Love Can Be Murder

Lamborne—Mojo resident and oldest woman in the state of Louisiana at one hundred and nine years—stride in sporting a walking stick, her white, wispy hair floating around her smiling, leathery face beneath a tattered bucket hat. So much for Marie's ESP.
    It was Jules who had put their business on the map a few months ago when the New Orleans Post had reported that Jules stopped by The Charm Farm on her daily walk and chugged a cup of Vigor Juice, claiming it made her feel like a spry ninety-nine-year-old again. The juice and smoothie bar, which Penny had hoped would appeal to tourists on their way to visit the Instruments of Death and Voodoo Museum next door, had become an overnight sensation.
    The article in the Post had also caught the eye of a New Orleans celebrity chef, Ziggy Hines, who was looking for a source for unusual herbs and spices. Shortly after the article had run, he had arrived at The Charm Farm unannounced, sporting his tall chef's hat. After much nodding and humming, he had bought every ginseng root and cinnamon fern fiddlehead that woodsman Jimmy Scaggs had foraged for Penny, plus all the fresh sulfur shelf and dried porcini mushrooms she'd had on hand, with an order to call him the minute she had more. Word had spread like warm cocoa butter, and soon professional chefs and fledgling gourmets from all over had made The Charm Farm a buying destination, all thanks to the ball that Jules had started rolling.
    "Good morning, Jules," Marie said.
    "Bonjour, ladies," Jules said, her voice warbling, but strong. She was a wrinkled slip of a woman, dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt, and white Adidas high-top athletic shoes. Time had robbed the centenarian of every feminine characteristic; her creased face, narrow figure, gnarled hands, and baritone speech were all androgynous. As she climbed up on a stool and leaned her intricately carved walking stick against the counter, she appeared more mythical than human. "I came for my morning elixir."
    "Coming right up," Marie said.
    Jules slanted her chin toward Penny. "Don't you own the house across the rue?"
    Penny could follow Cajun expressions as long as they were in context. "I used to. But now it belongs to my ex-husband, Deke Black."
    "Is he blind?"
    "Pardon me?"
    Jules tapped her temple. "I said, is the man blind? Must be, considering the godawful color he's painting that poor house. There should be a law against uglying up the town like that."
    "There is," Marie said, pulling a lever to dispense a greenish liquid into a glass. "But when your mama is mayor, laws don't apply."
    "I know who his mama is." Jules snorted, then took the glass that Marie extended, leveling her vibrant gaze on Penny. "How come you and that Deke Black to split up?"
    Penny hedged with a little smile. "Our marriage had run its course."
    "He was fucking around on you, was he?"
    Penny blinked. "Well—"
    "Yes," Marie declared.
    Jules swirled the liquid in her glass. "Fils de putain."
    "Son of a bitch," Marie explained, grinning.
    "Want me to put a hex on him?" Jules asked.
    "Yes!" Marie said excitedly.
    "No," Penny said, giving Marie a stern look.
    Marie pouted. "Oh, come on—get into the spirit of the festival."
    "Thanks anyway," Penny said to Jules with a little laugh.
    Jules looked disappointed, then raised the glass of fibrous Vigor Juice. "To the old days, when women had a remedy for cheating men."
    Her mind churning, Penny watched as the woman chugged the vitamin-packed liquid.
    Jules sat the empty glass on the counter, wiped her mouth on her sleeve, then heaved a satisfied sigh. "Guess I'd better be going. Thanks for the tipple."
    "Um, Jules," Penny said, her curiosity burning a hole through her common sense, "what did you mean when you said 'a remedy for cheating men'?"
    Jules grinned. "In my day, when a man got out of line, the wife put the voodoo on him as punition."
    "As punishment," Marie whispered.
    "Put the voodoo on him?" Penny asked.
    Jules leaned in, her aged eyes flashing with an eerie light. "You know—put a hex on him. Before long, the woman's problem was solved. You should think on it."
    A chill skittered up Penny's back, sending goose-flesh over her arms. "But Deke Black isn't my problem anymore. I'm over him."
    Jules studied her until Penny felt jittery, as if the woman could see into her soul and see what a big, fat liar she was. Finally, Jules shrugged her frail shoulders. "Whatever you say."
    "Are you going to stay in town for the festival, Jules?" Marie