CHAPTER 10 “I will hear no more of Voodoo!”
Morning found L’Intrepide moored at Grand Terre, the easternmost of the barrier islands guarding the entrance to Barataria Bay. It was now a waiting game, and Renato chose to wait with brush in hand, applying his genius once again to his masterpiece, The Last Great Terror of the Gulf. The encounter with Andre and his w***e of a daughter had provided new inspiration. At the bottom of the canvas he’d added two severed heads. One was round as a cannon ball, with a bulbous nose, a vacuous expression and a vermin-infested beard. The other had lustrous black hair, fiery red lips, and a serpent coiling through empty eye sockets.
Hearing the clack of Faraday’s boots, he pierced the man with a glare.
“I trust you bring good news, or you would not dare
