Vampires and Voodoo

By Darrell Tooker

It is 1718 and notorious pirate, Blackbeard is robbing merchant ships, confiscating their cargo, and even occasionally seizing ships. When Lieutenant Robert Maynard is enlisted by the governor of Virginia to find Blackbeard and kill him, a fierce battle ensues that leaves the pirate dead.

Nearly three hundred years later, the Pentagon asks private detectives Brad and Melanie Hicks to assist New Orleans police with a complex murder mystery. After the Hicks dock their boat in a marina north of the city, they have no idea what is in store for them over the next few weeks. As bloodless corpses begin appearing, others go missing, and the list of suspects remains empty, the police turn to local NCIS agents for help while Brad and Melanie visit an unscrupulous voodoo queen. After they follow her advice and end up in uncharted territory hundreds of miles from the French Quarter, the detectives are led to a mysterious encounter with Blackbeard and vampire activity that puts their lives in jeopardy. While winding through dark caves and mountains, the Hicks know that even if they manage to survive, this case may haunt them forever.

In this gripping mystery, two detectives become embroiled in a case that turns New Orleans upside down as a notorious pirate returns to find what he lost centuries earlier.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abbott Press
• Release date: Feb 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781458220585

Darrell Tooker

Darrell Tooker is a military veteran who practiced maxillofacial surgery for twenty years. Now retired from Walt Disney World where he captained friendship boats for ten years, Darrell lives with his wife, Jennie, in Clermont, Florida. His hobbies include stamp and coin collecting and woodworking. The Lords of Harrahan is his first book.

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Contents

Prologue

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

Epilogue

Prologue

40802.png here’s a ship comin’ in from the north, yelled the man from the crow’s nest. She’s ‘bout two leagues away."

Keep an eye on ‘er and let me know when she’s about a half league away. We’ll swing around and come at ‘er from the north.

She looks like three masts, shouted the man from up high, peering through his spyglass.

Prepare the men for combat, Mr. Hand.

Aye, aye, Capt’n, answered Hand. He turned and disappeared below deck and gave the men the information. A very large ship was approaching and she had at least three masts. He then returned to the deck to await the Captain’s orders.

She’s movin’ fast, Capt’n, yelled the man from above. Should be in me eyesight ‘ere shortly.

Keep an eye on ‘er, the Captain yelled up.

The men were all topside now and preparing for a fight. All the guns were in good working order. The time passed quickly and the large ship soon came in to sight. She was magnificent.

Wonder what she’s carryin’? Mostly supplies, prob’bly. Whatever she has, we’ll take it.

She’s a big one, Capt’n, Hand said. Looks like a French merchant ship. They always have lots o’ supplies and we er’ short on inventory.

Let’s hope they have a little booty, too, replied the Captain. We kin always use treasure to buy things with instead of trading supplies.

The men could use with some decent meals, too.

Yes, we all kin, Hand. Let’s hope.

When we get ‘er, let’s sail ‘er to Tortuga.

Good idea, Hand. We ere well liked there. We can relax and enjoy our forthcomings.

The ships were approaching each other. "She’s called La Concorde, Capt’n," the man up high yelled down.

Ye were right, Hand, she’s a French one.

The ships passed and the La Concorde continued her southerly path. They could see that she had no gun mounts. The ships parted and the distance between them was widening.

Let’s bring ‘er around now, Hand, piped the Captain. The time has come and we need supplies. This should be the easiest score to date.

Aye, Captain, said Hand.

The pirate ship took an easterly direction and then south and swung around making a hundred and eighty degree turn. She came in behind the French merchant ship and began firing over her stern. The ship tried to outrun the pirate ship, but it was too big and too slow. The French ship had no guns, so it couldn’t fight back. The pirate sloop gained on the merchant ship and came beside her. The men on the merchant ship surrendered immediately and the pirates took over.

Where’s your captain?

Right here. I’m Captain Benjamin Hornigold and we are sailing to Nassau. Who might you be?

Captain Edward Teach and I am commandeering this vessel in the name of England.

That’s a bunch of bullshit, replied Hornigold. You’re gonna take this ship and all its supplies for yourself.

Ye are exactly right my good friend. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I will give ye our sloop after we have transported everything to this one and ye can be on yer merry way, mate.

We’ve heard about you, said Hornigold. I’d like to join up with you if you don’t mind and, maybe, some of my men, too.

Very good, my friend. A wise choice. Any o’ yer men that want to join us ere welcome and the rest can take me sloop and go. We will leave them enough supplies to get them to Nassau.

Several of the men stayed with their captain and several boarded the pirate sloop and headed toward Nassau. The two ships parted and Teach, Hand and Hornigold headed toward Tortuga. They opened a bottle of rum and began toasting each other. Teach took the bottle and suddenly threw it at the bow of the ship smashing it into a hundred pieces, splashing rum everywhere.

"I dub thee, Queen Anne’s Revenge," announced Teach.

The three men opened another bottle of rum and continued drinking.

This could be a great partnership, shouted Hand. May we live long and pillage the high seas fer years to come.

Let’s jist git to Tortuga first, said Teach softly. We will relax, drink and take some women. Then we’ll plan our next folly.

In the early 1700’s, Blackbeard was robbing merchant ships, confiscating their cargo and, sometimes, taking their ship. He captured a French Merchant vessel, called La Concorde, and renamed her, Queen Anne’s Revenge. This became his primary vessel because of its size. He and his crew sailed the West Indies, raiding ships and stealing their cargo for the next three years. He operated out of Tortuga, Nassau, Belize and the Carolinas. He was feared by everyone, even other pirates because of his long and scraggly beard and his reputation.

In 1718, the governor of the colony of Virginia, Alexander Spotswood, was concerned that Blackbeard and his crew were living in North Carolina on Ocracoke Island and were too close in proximity to his state. He enlisted Lieutenant Robert Maynard to find him and kill him. Lt. Maynard was given two sloops, both equipped with firepower and manpower. He and 57 men set out to find Blackbeard.

In the meantime, Blackbeard had met another English pirate by the name of Charles Vane. His ship, the Adventure, was bigger than the Queen Anne’s Revenge, so the two decided to sink the Revenge and keep the Adventure. Blackbeard immediately renamed her the Queen Anne’s Adventure.

It was rumored that Blackbeard and his pirate friend, Charles Vane, were hiding out on the outer banks of North Carolina in the village of Ocracoke on the west side of the island. When Maynard’s crew arrived, Blackbeard was nowhere to be found. The next morning they found the pirates aboard the Queen Anne’s Adventure anchored on the east side of the island. When they found the ship, Maynard’s crew began firing at it. Blackbeard immediately cut the anchor and began moving east. However, he ran aground on a sandbar in the Beaufort Inlet and the three ships began firing on each other.

Lt. Maynard’s ships were much smaller than Blackbeard’s, but they fought fiercely for several hours.

Damn, Lt. Maynard shouted. I thought Blackbeard’s men were ashore.

I think some of them are, replied his first mate.

The only way we can defeat him is by getting him into hand-to-hand combat, said Maynard. We need to get him to board our ship.

About that time the Queen Anne fired their cannons all at once and started Maynard’s sloop on fire. Maynard lost about a dozen men in the attack. The second sloop ran aground, also, and left only the one with Maynard and his crew to continue the battle.

Keep firing on them, he shouted. Make them pay.

Aye, Lieutenant, answered the first mate.

Bring the sloop around and retreat to the east.

We can’t, sir. The rudder has been damaged in the fight. We’re at the mercy of the current.

Damn that Blackbeard, Maynard screamed. I wanted to circle around and get close to them on the other side. They’re stuck on the sandbar and can’t move.

Lt. Maynard and his crew were at a standstill. They couldn’t move their vessel and were now at the mercy of Blackbeard’s ship. All got quiet for a while and the fighting stopped.

What the hell is wrong? yelled Lt. Maynard. They’ve stopped firing on us. They probably just want to see us burn up.

No. Look, Lieutenant, yelled the first mate. We’re drifting in their direction.

Sure enough, the Lieutenant agreed. We’re going to crash into them and that’s what they are waiting for.

They are going to board our ship, aren’t they?

Yes, they are, answered Maynard, and they’ll get the surprise of their life.

As the ships grew closer together, Maynard and his crew were preparing for combat. All of a sudden the ships collided and Blackbeard’s crew began jumping down onto the sloop.

Blackbeard! shouted Lt. Maynard. We’ve come for you.

Who the bloody hell ere ye and what do ye want with me? shouted Blackbeard.

I’m Lt. Robert Maynard. Governor Spotswood sent me to capture you.

Like bloody hell ye’ll capture me.

Blackbeard and Maynard drew their pistols, but their shots never connected. Blackbeard pulled his cutlass and he and Maynard began to battle. The rest of the two crews were battling each other and the deck of the ship was drenched in blood. The battle wasn’t going well for Maynard and his crew, but suddenly 25 men emerged from below deck and entered the fight. Blackbeard and his men were pushed back, but Blackbeard kept fighting.

Give it up, Blackbeard, yelled Maynard.

No way in bloody hell, exclaimed Blackbeard. I’ll fight to me death if I have to.

Blackbeard lunged forward and broke Maynard’s sword. Maynard was suddenly without a weapon. He began to retreat.

Just as Blackbeard was about to make a move forward on the Lieutenant, one of Maynard’s men slashed at Blackbeard and made a gash on the side of his neck. As Blackbeard retreated, ten of Maynard’s men pounced on him and killed him. The remainder of Blackbeard’s men immediately surrendered. They were then taken prisoners and sent below deck.

Are you okay, Lieutenant? asked the first mate.

I’m fine, answered Lt. Maynard. Now let’s get the fires out and see if we can fix the rudder.

Aye, aye, Lieutenant, shouted the first mate.

Maynard turned to his crew. Bring me a knife.

One of the crew members handed Maynard a knife and he proceeded to remove the head of Blackbeard from the rest of his body.

String his head up on the bow, shouted Lt. Maynard. Let his beard flow with the wind and let this be a reminder to all pirates what will happen to them if they don’t cease and desist their evil ways.

Blackbeard’s head was hung from the bowsprit and his body was thrown into the water. After a few hours, the repairs had been made so as to be able to move the ship. When they were far enough away, they sunk the Queen Anne’s Adventure in the Beaufort Inlet.

Lt. Maynard’s sloop limped into the port at the village of Ocracoke where they remained for several days while the ship was being repaired to become seaworthy.

All the booty that Blackbeard had stored on shore was sold at auction and the money given to the state of Virginia. The treasure that Blackbeard claimed to have buried was never recovered and the two sloops returned to Virginia with their prisoners. Charles Vane was never found and Israel Hand was taken from the Queen Anne’s Adventure before they sunk her. Hand had been shot in the leg by Blackbeard keeping him from joining the fight, so Lt. Maynard couldn’t kill him. He knew that if they lost the battle, Hand’s life would be spared.

When they returned to Virginia, Lt. Maynard didn’t get the recognition that he deserved and he was disappointed. He left the service and no record of his life exists from that point on, other than he returned to England and later buried in Kent.

1

40938.png onnie Oglevie was 19 and living in the east end of the French Quarter. His mom was Cajun and his dad was from Dutch descent. He was tall and skinny with dishwater blond hair that always looked like it needed cut. On nice days, he takes his fold-up chair and a large blue plastic bucket and plays guitar on Bourbon Street for money. He’s been at this for a couple years or so and is starting to build his bankroll. He’s saving for a car when he graduates college.

On this particular day, he left his house about 8:30 am. While walking down Esplanade Avenue, he felt some cold chills giving him goose bumps on his arms. The past few days had been like this and it bothered him, but today, though, it seemed to be more pronounced. The cold chills were now causing a strange sensation in his anterior neck, right below the Adam’s Apple in that little depression just above the chest bone. It was a feeling of tightness as though his windpipe was narrowing. The whole situation was strange, but it didn’t seem to alarm him. Something just didn’t seem right, but nothing had evolved to make him suspicious, so he moved on toward his familiar spot. As he walked further, the chills seemed to leave just as suddenly as they had appeared and his throat no longer felt constricted.

When he turned onto Bourbon Street, the cold chills returned, this time, much worse. He found his spot, about eight blocks from Esplanade Avenue, unfolded his chair and placed the 3-gallon bucket on the sidewalk in front of him. He had a few one dollar bills already in the bucket to bait the tourists.

He began playing and before long a dozen or so people had gathered around to listen. The day was a good one for him as he’d made over twenty dollars in the first two hours. Usually, things were quiet this early in the morning, but today they were different. People were out early and prowling the streets in large numbers. This always meant better business for him which meant more money toward his car.

Around 11:30 one of the girls from the bar behind him brought him a soda. She brought him cold drinks a couple of times a day because the bar actually did a better business while he was there.

Hi, Lonnie,

Hi, Janise, replied Lonnie. Tell Fred I said thanks for the drink.

No problem. Fred knows a good thing when he sees it. Besides, he likes your music.

They both laughed.

You know, Janise, I’ve had these strange feelings the past two or three days like something weird is going on. Is it just me or is there something wrong in the air?

It’s not just you, answered Janise. There have been some strange characters prowling the streets at night. My husband says it’s the full moon, but Fred says it’s voodoo at work.

I don’t like voodoo, replied Lonnie. It always ends up bad for someone. My dad says there’s no such thing, but my mom feels differently. Of course, she was born and raised in this area.

Well, I don’t know what it is, said Janise, but I just wish things would get back to normal. I don’t like these eerie feelings any more than you do.

They continued to talk for a few minutes and then the cold chills came to Lonnie again and this time they were really strong.

Did you feel that? asked Lonnie.

Yes, I did, answered Janise. It was like a cold chill running up and down my spine.

Look, yelled Lonnie, pointing down the street. Look at those guys coming up the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Are they strange looking or what?

They’re certainly different, that’s for sure.

They’re dressed like pirates, swords and all, said Lonnie.

As the men got closer, they could see that a couple of them had beards and the others were clean shaven, but their hair was scraggly. They seemed to be in deep conversation and paid little, or no attention, to anyone else in the streets.

This is June, not Halloween, said Lonnie. I wonder why the pirate get-ups?

I don’t know, but they don’t look friendly to me.

The men walked on past them and entered a bar across the street. After a while, some of the customers came out and proceeded to another bar.

Weird, isn’t it?

Well, I don’t like it, said Janise, heading toward her bar. I’m going back inside and I’m glad they didn’t come to our bar.

Take my guitar and basket inside with you, would you, Janise? I’m going over there and take a look inside.

Sure, replied Janise.

She grabbed his stuff and went inside. Lonnie crossed the street and walked into the bar where the men had gone. As soon as he entered, he felt those cold chills again and this time they were severe. The men were seated in the far corner of the bar drinking at a round table. The one with the longest beard was doing the talking and the others were sitting in silence. He was dressed in all black and had his sword lying across the table. There were only five or six other patrons in the bar and they looked uneasy. Suddenly, the men all began laughing, stood up and carried their beers through a door behind the bar.

Lonnie walked over to the bar.

Hey, Sam,

Hello, Lonnie, the bartender replied. How are you today?

Good, Sam. Who were those men who were just sitting at that corner table?

Oh, they’re friends of mine, said Sam.

They’re dressed like pirates.

Yeah, some get-ups, huh? said Sam as he continued cleaning glasses and stacking them on the back counter. They come in here once in a while and I give ‘em free beer. They’re harmless.

Well, I’ve got to go back. I’ll see you later, Sam.

Okay. Keep the music comin’, Lonnie.

Lonnie left the bar and as soon as he was in the street again, the cold chills disappeared. He went to the bar where Janise worked and told her everything that had happened.

I don’t like it, said Janise. There is something fishy going on here.

I know what you mean. As soon as I left, the bad chills left me.

If you ask me, they’re up to something and it’s not good, said Janise. If you see them again, let me know.

Will do, said Lonnie.

He grabbed his guitar and basket and returned to his chair and began playing again. The afternoon went well for him just as the morning had. About 5 o’clock, he went inside Fred’s and had a po’ boy sandwich. He was hungry as he had skipped lunch because the tourists were continually rewarding him for his music. At times, he would rather make money than eat, to a point that is. Some days he played all day and didn’t eat till he got home. When he sat down on his chair, he noticed the four men leaving the bar across the street and heading east on Bourbon. He quickly stuffed all his money into his pockets and put his basket and chair inside Fred’s and headed back out to the street. The men were about a block away and he began following them with guitar in hand.

They proceeded down Bourbon Street and then into the bar that used to be Jean Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop years ago. When he arrived at the bar, they were nowhere in sight. He knew they came in here, but now they were gone. The only exit was behind the bar, so he knew that’s where they went. The cold chills had now returned and he was feeling a little queasy in his stomach.

What the hell is going on here? he asked himself in a low voice.

He turned around and walked outside and headed back to Fred’s. He grabbed his bucket and chair and placed himself back on the sidewalk and began playing. Even while he was playing, he was thinking about those men that were dressed up like pirates. He couldn’t figure out what they were doing or what they were up to. It was probably nothing, but it still bothered him. He thought he’d better let it go and keep his mind on playing.

It wasn’t very long before he noticed a large number of people running west down Bourbon Street. They were shouting, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying. It must be something big because everyone was heading in that direction. He took his bucket and his chair back inside the bar and stuffed the rest of his money in his pockets and handed his guitar to Fred. He ran down the street toward the commotion. Everyone was turning south on Bienville Street and the crowd was getting bigger. When he got to Chartres Street, he could tell that the commotion centered in that area. There were dozens of people congregated in an area about a half a block up the street. He couldn’t see what was going on because there were too many people in front of him. It was hard for him to get closer because of the crowd. People were edging their way in closer, so he followed suit and got as close as he could. Soon two police cars arrived and shortly after that an ambulance. He heard sirens in the distance and knew more emergency vehicles would be arriving soon.

Word had filtered back that someone was injured badly or possibly dead. No one knew the circumstances, but it must have been bad because there were certainly plenty of police cars and emergency vehicles in the area. They were trying to get everyone to move back to give the responders room to work. Pretty soon, lines of policemen had cleared out the area and set up the yellow crime scene tape. The massive crowd had moved backward, pushing Lonnie up against the wall of the building across the street from the accident. He heard that there were a couple of bodies on the street and that they had jumped from a window high up on the building, but he couldn’t see any open window. Maybe someone in the room had closed it.

Soon a helicopter hovered above the building shining its light down on the crime scene. He could see several police officers on the roof with rifles in their hands as if they were looking for something. They were moving back and forth and then suddenly they disappeared from view. The police on the ground were trying to keep order. He could see them talking to each other and motioning toward the roof.

This day certainly turned out to be a weird one for him. First, the weird guys dressed like pirates acting strange and then disappearing and, second, the crime scene here in the west end of the Quarter. He still couldn’t see what was going on too well, so after edging his way through the crowd he headed back toward Bourbon Street.

He grabbed his chair and bucket and began playing again. The crowd was thin now as everyone was at the crime scene and no one was there to listen to him play. He couldn’t get his mind off the events of the day, anyway, so he decided to pack it up for the day and come back tomorrow. He asked Fred if he’d heard anything about the accident. He said he hadn’t.

On his way home he began to get those cold chills again and it was starting to irritate him. These on and off cold chills were becoming a nuisance and he was getting tired of it. If, only, he could figure out what was causing them. And it was strange to him that Janise was feeling them, too. He wondered how many other people in the area were feeling the same thing. What could it possibly mean?

What Lonnie didn’t know and didn’t understand was the frightful situation that was going to be bestowed upon New Orleans in the near future. Those cold chills were some kind of warning, but he didn’t know about what. If he had known, there wouldn’t