Revenge: Voodoo Lucy

By vito zuppardo

The legend of Voodoo Lucy lives on as Lucinda Jones continues her life of intrigue in New Orleans in the heart of the historic French Quarter. Her interesting, unique relationships are interwoven with drug dealer Felipe Cruz, New Orleans Detective Mario DeLuca, and Stella James, an on-again, off-again romance, as Lucy seeks to right the wrongs in her life.

Her nightmares are getting worse until she discovers the reason for them. She seeks out the perpetrator, intent on revenge, as she engages her voodoo skills by creating a doll to send a message that chills the man to the core. Lucy receives help and cuts deals with unlikely associates, doing what she has to do get justice.

Lucy also seeks to give back to the New Orleans community, helping abused women by renovating a neighborhood and creating a safe haven for others. She might have somewhat crossed the line, involving money laundering, making deals with politicians, and walking a fine line of legal activities.

But it's all pure Voodoo Lucy, as she continues her legacy in Revenge, Book 2 of the Voodoo Lucy series.

Master storyteller Vito Zuppardo lives in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. He's the author of the True Blue Detective series, Voodoo Lucy series, and Alluring Lady Luck series and is currently working on his next novel.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: vito zuppardo
• Release date: Apr 13, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201814908

vito zuppardo

Encouraged by the feedback received from readers of his first book, based on true events of his years of dealing with high rollers in Las Vegas and by the interest displayed by the movie industry, Vito wrote an adaptation of his debut novel Alluring Lady Luck for the  big screen. The novel was received well by critics and readers, and received inquiries from Hollywood.   Vito Zuppardo is the author of 5 novels and started writing in 2010. He spent 25 years in the casino business operating high limit gaming customers to various casinos around the world.  It's his life adventures that make his books fun to read, and characters stand out.   Reviews state 'characters are very well defined' and 'the story captured me on the first page and then it got better with every page I turned.   Vito released the first novel Alluring Lady Luck in 2010 Inspired by a true story by the man behind the most exclusive high-stakes gaming party jets to casino around the world.    In 2011 Tales of Lady Luck a well-received book dug deeper into characters on the exclusives VIP list.   Vito, turned his attention to writing thrillers and the first novel True Blue Detective was a hit. Followed by Crescent City Detective, and a series called Voodoo Lucy, Tupelo Gypsy.   Vito was born and raised in New Orleans and moved to Baton Rouge, after Hurricane Katrina. Life is truly what you make of it.

Book preview

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING

Voodoo Lucy Tupelo Gypsy

5-stars

Kindle Edition Verified Purchase

Great read!

This was an exciting read and kept me flipping through the pages and glued to my kindle until the very end. You won't believe everything that happens in this book. It's like Lucy or someone else, takes care of one problem and here comes ten more. Lucy has more guts or has to be insane to do everything she does and keep right on going. This book never has a dull moment and I can't wait to read more.

5-stars

Amazing read! Kindle Edition

WOW!

This book is amazing. You have Lucy running with the bad boys and the boys in blue. Which everyone gets her where she wants is who she goes to. The whole story about how she came from nothing to the top is just amazing. I couldn't read this book fast enough to find out what was going to happen next. I highly recommend this book.

5-stars

Format: Kindle Edition

It exceeded my expectations Kindle Edition

Another book by Vito that is excellent, quick moving, cannot put down. A great way to spend several hours and get away to a great story

Join My Newsletter

VITO ZUPPARDO BOOKS

***

Voodoo Lucy Series

Revenge

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING

ALSO BY VITO ZUPPARDO

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Author’s Notes

About the Author

Voodoo Lucy Series:

ALSO BY VITO ZUPPARDO

True Blue Detective series

True Blue Detective

Crescent City Detective

Vieux Carré Detective

Street Justice

Escape To New Orleans

Two Kinds of Justice

Irish Bayou

The Auction House

Voodoo Lucy series

Tupelo Gypsy

Revenge

Club Twilight

Mirror of Lies

Night Terrors

Lady Luck series

Alluring Lady Luck

Tales of Lady Luck

Bonus read at end of this book True Blue Detective

Copyright © 2019 Vito Zuppardo

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 978-1722794026

Publisher’s Note: This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictional manner.

No part of the book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without permission.

A special thanks to my wife, Diane Zuppardo, for the cover picture of her original artwork.

Chapter 1

Lucy's eyes were wide open, but she could only see darkness. A tightly tied blindfold prevented any light from reaching her eyes. The material felt rough against her skin, and it had a musty smell that she would never forget. She strained to listen for any sounds that might give away her location - the rumble of a car, the whistle of a train, or people talking in the distance. But all she heard was deafening silence. As she walked, she dragged her feet along the dirt ground, trying to get a sense of where she was. It felt like an old garage or a barn. The hand gripping her arm was strong and rough, with thick skin. She held onto her friend Karen Foster as they walked together, step by step, until the hand suddenly jerked Lucy away. It was the last time she would feel Karen's familiar touch.

Her memory was hazy, but she could vaguely recall strolling down a dusty path with Karen, chatting about typical teenage topics. They had passed by a parked black truck on the side of the road, but she made sure to avoid making eye contact with the driver. Suddenly, a hand covered their noses, and they both felt their legs give out. The next thing she knew, they were drifting in and out of consciousness.

She had taught herself to use all of her senses, but this was the first time she had been blindfolded. Most often, men would tell her to turn around or close her eyes before taking advantage of her. She could sense that time had passed, but she couldn't remember anything from the moments of unconsciousness. The sweet smell that had taken her breath away was now gone. The intense heat surrounding her made her think of a barn fire, but that couldn't be possible - they were inside a building. She heard the sound of metal clanging and felt the increasing heat, and she knew without a doubt that she was standing in front of an incinerator.

A solid clang sounded when the steel door closed. Then the heat intensified again. The door must have been reopened, ran through young Lucy’s mind. Knowing better than to scream, it would only get her a smack and a rag in the mouth, making sure it didn’t happen again.

A voice she recognized, but couldn’t place for sure, kept saying something like a crawdad, making her think the heat was coming from a pot boiling crawfish. If so, the smell of garlic, crab boil, and seasoning would have been evident—there was no such smell. With a deep snort, a horrible smell came over her—nothing she’d ever sensed before.

Tears flowed down her face. Her dress wet from perspiration clutched her body. She let out a scream, then another.

Lucy, on the count of three, you will wake up, Dr. Griffin said. One, two, three.

Lucy sat up, her heart racing and a horrified look on her face. With one hand, she brushed damp hair away from her eyes. Then a calm came over her as she twisted her long, red hair into a curl, a dead giveaway. It didn’t fool Dr. Griffin.

Lucinda, let me talk to Lucy, he said.

This is Lucy, Lucinda said.

At the sound of the bell, Lucy will be at full attention, he said. Do you understand, Lucinda?

She’s weak. I can help her, Lucinda said.

The doctor hit a small desk bell. It rang with a ding. Immediately, Lucy responded with tears flowing rapidly from her eyes over her rosy cheeks across her lips. The doctor handed her tissues and a glass of water, the usual preparation for when Lucy awoke from hypnosis.

How did I do? Lucy asked between snuffles.

About the same, he said relaxing back in his chair. Even a psychiatrist, as well trained as Dr. Griffin was, fatigued after a thirty-minute session dealing with multiple personalities. Your mind shut down at the same part of the story.

Lucy opened her purse. She freshened her makeup and ran a comb through her hair. Maybe it’s for the best.

We have to address Lucinda, Dr. Griffin said, writing a note in his journal. Until Lucinda is out of your mind or at least controllable, anything is possible. None of which is healthy. He lifted his head to see Lucy gazing at the sun beaming through the transom window above his head. Lucy? We’re on the same page?

Yes, Dr. Griffin, she said, shrugging her shoulders like a child. I’ll get Lucinda under control. Something she’d said after every session. She’d never used the mind-manipulating tools taught by the doctor or taken the medication he insisted she needed to control her multiple personality disorder.

Fairly sure her problems started with Karen’s older brother Johnny, at least she thinks so. She was young—lured into a garage with him to look for some toy or game, she wasn’t sure. Can you remember early childhood events past the age of six? Maybe that’s what Dr. Griffin meant by mind blocking. Allowing her to suppress emotions she’s not ready to face visibly or to remember the traumatic event. One day Lucinda would allow Lucy to tell the doctor the entire series of encounters with the bad people she grew up with in Tupelo, Mississippi. For now, Lucinda would shield Lucy of the pain.

Dr. Griffin gently turned the doorknob to let Lucy into the empty waiting room. Even his receptionist had left for the evening, as she had often done when sessions ran long and no other appointments were scheduled.

Lucy? Please take your medication, he said, pulling her arm gently for attention.

With the other hand, she curled her hair repeatedly, then smiled back at the doctor. I’ll take care of her, Lucinda said, and you ever touch her again, I’ll slit your throat.

The doctor quickly dropped her arm. An innocent touch or gesture was the very thing that could set a patient off, spinning them out of control into a downward spiral. I’m sorry, Lucy. I was just making a point.

Lucy left a check on the front counter and picked up a reminder appointment card the receptionist had left for the next week. As usual, she’d be a no-show—until her nightmares become uncontrollable, then she’d beg Dr. Griffin for another session.

Lucy strolled down Royal Street, exchanging pleasant smiles and handshakes. Stopping to give a phony laugh at a store owner’s joke, the same one he’d told her three times. It was her way to get on with the day and show Lucinda her visit with Dr. Griffin gave Lucy her power back. For now, Lucinda would crawl back into the dark hole she lived in, only to surface when Lucy least expected or needed help.

***

Chapter 2

Mostly, Lucy’s life was rolling along. All aspects of the business were good, the legal ones and her business that walked the fine line of the law and often crossed.

Stella James, a vice cop with the New Orleans Police Department, bloomed into a little more than good friends with Lucy, thanks to Mario DeLuca. An introduction a year earlier allowed Lucy to run a scam with assistance from the police, without them ever knowing. It took a bad guy off the street and confirmed to another client that Lucy had voodoo powers.

Stella and Lucy had been out a few times, neither wanted to call it a date. Cocktails at a jazz bar and dinner ended with a walk through Jackson Square. A kiss goodnight and they would go their separate ways.

Stella always made time from her cop duties to meet Lucy after a session with Dr. Griffin. She didn’t know all the details of what took Lucy to treatment, but after Stella had sat with a police therapist for justifiably killing a man while on the job, she could only imagine what it would be like under hypnotist having a psychiatrist rifle you with questions. This day they were to meet on a bench across from St. Louis Cathedral. Stella introduced Lucy to cannolis from Brocato’s bakery, and it quickly became a favorite. Today’s visit was coffee and a cannoli for each. It should get a smile from Lucy—she thought.

Lucy arrived in a huff, took a seat, not saying a word, her usual actions for the first hour after visiting Dr. Griffin. Stella, her rock, shoulder to lean on, all around good friend, took the brunt of the shitstorm that came after a session.

I’ve got your favorite, Stella said handing a cannoli and a coffee.

Lucy frowned, motioned for her to place it on the bench. Thanks—you know this stuff goes right to my hips.

That’s me, Lucy, Stella said. Beefing you up, all one hundred and ten pounds of you.

Stella waited, and it came as it had every week. Big tears streamed down Lucy’s face, speaking but not making much sense. Their heads rested on each other’s shoulders. That was Stella’s clue to break out a small box of tissues she carried to Dr. Griffin’s after-party.

I take it things didn’t go well, Stella whispered.

No, Lucy said, lifting her head. I can’t remember behind the heat I felt on my face. Same as the time before and the time before that.

Stella always weighted her words with this topic. Maybe it’s your brain’s way of telling you, you’re not ready.

Ready for what? Lucy wiped her eyes with a tissue. Can it be any worse if the doctor pushed forward?

Honey, the little I know, it could be a lot worse. That’s why they’re doctors, Stella said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. He’ll know when you’re ready. Let’s finish up, and I’ll walk you back to the salon.

A half box of tissue later, Lucy’s tears were under control, and she knocked back the rest of the coffee and the remainder of the cannoli. Both touched up their lipsticks, sharing a little, gold, compact mirror. With a big puff, Lucy exhaled, taking Stella’s hand. It was Lucy’s way of saying she was ready to put the doctor’s session behind her.

They strolled the uneven concrete up Pirate Alley to Royal Street hand and hand. You’re just what the doctor ordered, Lucy said. Coffee, cannoli, and a shoulder to cry on.

Stella pulled her closer and gave a kiss on her cheek. I’m here for you any time and place. You need to let me in. I can help.

Lucy smiled and gave a squeeze of her hand, but that was as far as it would go. Her life was too complicated. Therapy sessions, Detective Henry Zack Nelson chasing her down for the bank job her father pulled, the after-hour business she inherited from Vivien, and the police yet to discover she’d killed Picklehead.

They stopped in front of the salon. Lucy smiled and looked into Stella’s eyes. She could be the one, but Lucy came with too much baggage. Stella, you couldn’t handle me.

Give me a try, Stella said, pulling her by the hand. Then she went for it and laid into her with a kiss. It was a passionate one—the type lovers do in private. Their mouths slid across the fresh, slippery lipstick. This time Lucy didn’t pull away. The embrace lasted and with every second that passed, Stella watched from the corner of her eye the woman of her dream’s fingers twirling her red hair into a long, tight curl. Her hand gracefully rested on her shoulder and fiddled the hair in place. This was not the shy woman Stella knew, but she was game.

They broke apart. Stella’s big, brown eyes flickered. Wow.

When you want loving, call on Lucinda, she said, running her tongue over her lips. I’m your girl. Then she stepped into the salon as a customer walked out.

Stella’s head was spinning. It made no sense to her. Call who?

***

Chapter 3

The beauty salon chatter was loud. With only one customer, two beauticians, and Wanda Jones, Lucy’s mother, in the place, it sounded more like they were at a bar. It was near closing time, and the afternoon cocktails had started early. The one customer, a regular, had started on champagne the second she walked into the salon.

Rich women dressed to the nines, getting dolled up for their husbands. Waiting curbside, their drivers in late model Cadillacs with a trunk full of D. H. Holmes shopping bags, the place they shopped for the latest New York brands. The beauticians didn’t shy away from discussing their opinions of the women who needed to get plastered by two in the afternoon. Living such a lifestyle, but getting smashed before heading home, baffled the ladies who worked a nine-to-five job every day. How bad could the rich women’s lives be? The salon ladies came up with some colorful descriptions.

After a visit with Dr. Griffin, Lucy preferred quiet and something to occupy her mind, like reading or working on a doll. The ladies were talking loudly, and the party atmosphere turned the salon into more than Lucy could handle. She made small talk as she strolled through the salon, keeping her eyes fixed on the beaded curtain and the door that separated the two rooms. Once the door closed, the sound diminished, allowing Lucy the ability to recover from the doctor’s visit. Aside from the pain and torment from nightmares, she felt pressure during the day, keeping secrets from her friends.

She told no one of her problems and only Stella of her visits with Dr. Griffin. She never felt close enough to her own mother to discuss the problem when it first surfaced. Wanda, a woman abused by her alcoholic husband for years, would only blame Lucy, like she did herself, when she’d wake up bruised and barely able to get out of bed. It was only recently that Lucy disclosed to Stella her doctor visits, and that information was vague.

The room was small, an afterthought of the owner or the many tenants the building had over the last one hundred years. The lease and living quarters came with the purchase of the salon from Lucy’s friend, Vivien Bluff, who died the day after she purchased the business.

The room was dark, except for the single bulb shining down on a worktable used for tarot card readings, scams, or Lucy’s therapy of making voodoo dolls with human hair from the salon.

At the open-air market in Jackson Square, people paid top dollar for dolls with real hair, especially those sporting bright red hair and green eyes—like Lucy. It was Lucy’s green eyes people were first attracted to and then to the dolls when people noticed they resembled Lucy. Some thought it was spooky; others paid the price for a doll like they had never seen, with a card attached with instructions how to get what they wanted from a voodoo doll. The demand was great, and Lucy could have made a living just making dolls, but she preferred to use them for getting what she wanted.

Dr. Griffin encouraged Lucy to make the dolls, said it would relax her mind and keep her from wandering into turmoil and confusion. She had just put the finishing touch of green eyeshadow on a doll when she heard the front door slam and a strange voice. The much younger voice than most of the salon customers overpowered the room. Whoever it was, Wanda would handle and calm the situation. Wanda was good with people, Lucy always said, but was just not good at handling family matters.

The noise interrupted Lucy’s concentration on a new doll. This one would sport jet-black hair. The one she used for scamming people proved so successful that Lucy believed her own bullshit of having psychic powers.

The shouting continued. Lucy cracked the door and found a young woman, maybe early twenties, sitting in a salon chair, her blouse ripped open to the point all the buttons were off. Her braless body was exposed, as she did her best to hold the pieces of torn cloth together. One beautician worked on getting her long blonde hair under control, as it looked like she put her finger in a light socket. Wanda stood over the young lady with a bottle and a cotton ball, dabbing her cheek. Lucy knew the bottle too well. It was Wanda’s special concoction for healing wounds.

Here you go, honey, one of the salon workers said. Holding up a Bluff’s Salon logo shirt. Take your top off. The young woman, hesitant, kept herself covered. Come on, dear. We’re all ladies here; we’ve seen boobs big and small.

The young lady dropped her arms, and Wanda slipped the torn shirt off. A loud gasp from all the workers could be heard all the way back to Lucy. That’s when she burst into the room to see what was going on for herself.

The women stood bare-breasted—black-and-blue ribs on the left side and what appeared to be cigarette burns on her chest.

What’s your name? Lucy asked.

Ruby, she said, slipping the new shirt over her shoulders.

Lucy stood, twisting her hair with her fingers. Who did this?

Before the woman could answer, a man rushed in the door. He was big, tall, and dwarfed her in weight and