It didn't feel like home turf.
The southern climate had forced Alec to leave his leather attire behind, in favor of thin, black slacks that fit tightly on his buff legs, and a simple linen button shirt that hung half open on his chest.
Far from a swamp, the Broussard estate was nevertheless wrapped in oppressive humidity that even the variable shade of gnarled cypresses along the uneven stone path barely eased.
The plantation was not open unannounced visitors but could be rented for those who preferred authentic slave barracks in the background of their wedding photos.
Alec removed his sunglasses as he came into view of the Georgian manor house, pale red walls framed by white, if dirtied, columns.
He was awaited by a brunet man in a tank top showing off his defined arms and a baseball cap on his square head.
"Alec Reyes?"
"Yes," Alec said and shook the offered hand. "You must be Mister Daniel Broussard."
"Just Dan, please."
They moved into the dim, dusty lobby. Alec couldn't help feel the building's age had been ignored for too long but the humidity was bearable here.
Dan led him up the stairs to a guestroom where Alec dropped his suitcase.
"You manage the plantation?"
"Sort of," Dan said. "My parents spend as little time here as they can. Me and my little brother Ricky are stuck here with Howard - grandpa. I'd leave if I could but... someone's gotta look after the old grump, haha.
"As for the Raven portrait..." Alec begun.
"So the painting actually *belongs* to Howard. You'll have to talk to him. If it were up to me I'd just have sent you the damn thing but he takes up fascinations sometimes." Dan looked like he wanted to say a lot more but switched track. "Grandpa can be stubborn. Maybe if you're willing to wait until he moved on to some new item."
"We'll see. Can I talk to him right away?"
"I'll check if he's sleeping. He's usually awake by now but... old people, you know."
==========+++++==========
Howard Broussard was a rather ugly man but aside from severely messed up, brown teeth he looked much younger than his age - barely fifty.
He gave Alec a disapproving once-over. Likely because of the ash blond mohawk and nose ring, possibly also because of the dark skin.
"Your client wants the painting?" Howard asked, as if laying a trap. "Well he can't have it," he added with finality. "I'm not *done* with it."
The old man lounged in a chair in front of a ceramics display hutch, an untouched, dusty tea set on the end table. The room stank of cigarettes but there were none in sight.
Alec dropped himself in the other chair, leaning back with legs wide to give Howard a show of rugged masculinity.
Dan, leaning on the doorway, twitched.
"And what exactly are you *doing* with it?"
"None of your business." Howard was quiet for a moment. "But if you've got any information on it that would help me figure out... Well, I'm interested in its history. Things that might not be in the official records. If your client, uh-"
"Raven."
"-Mister Raven knows the key to this mystery I'd part with it sooner."
The old bastard wanted to harness the portrait somehow. Conjuring? Sending visions to his enemies? Keeping a ghost as a slave?
"Can I see it?" Alec asked. "I've worked with Mister Raven for years. I have knowledge of 'mysteries'. From the mundane to the... tricky."
Howard gave him another faintly disgusted once-over but rose and waved him along.
At the back of the Broussard manor was a small office, overflowing with artefacts in glass cases and drawers, mostly open and loosely organized. Chinese scrolls, anatomical drawings, jars of snakes in aspic. A bookshelf where every other book carried a pentagram or a goat head on the spine.
Most of the walls were dedicated to African artefacts, like necklaces, shields and simple strings without obvious use.
Alec wasn't good at this type of thing but it took little effort to call forth the Connections. The hanging objects had overwhelmingly belonged to people who had lived on the estate and had not parted with their owners freely. Trophies of a sort.
Above a modest fireplace hung a portrait of Orion Raven.
The four hundred year old painting, about two feet high, had become tinged a dark yellow but the strict looking fellow with the ruff collar stared at the observers undeterred by the centuries of grime.
"Any visions since he got here?" Alec asked. "Nightmares? Hallucinations?"
Howard grinned with his rotten-looking teeth. "That's what I've been hoping for, but no. Not so far."
"What about you?" Alec said and turned to Dan who had stayed outside the room.
Dan flinched. "I... Um, no, not reall- No visions, sir."
A glance at Howard made clear Alec had just tipped the old guy off to something. Dan was lying but Howard didn't yet know the contents of the hallucinations. And Dan didn't seem likely to open up to his grandfather.
==========+++++==========
A knock on the guestroom door. An unfamiliar voice.
"Mister Reyes? The take-out's here."
Alec opened, wearing nothing but black briefs. The guy holding up a plastic bag of Asian food failed to hide his shock and awe at the displayed musculature.
"You must be Ricky," Alec said and took the bag to his small two seater table.
"That's me," Ricky said, nervously chuckling.
The 'little brother' was barely a few years younger than Dan, with the same edgy face, slightly taller and lankier, his brown hair in an even fringe.
Alec had planned to target Dan but he could still do that later.
"I was about to shower," Alec said, putting a lot of effort into his voice to make it The Voice without the aid of his wristlet which lay on the nightstand. "Does the water take a while to get hot?"
Ricky swallowed hard and tore his eyes off the hunk's abs. "Uh, hot, yes. I mean-" He pressed his eyes shut and cringed lightly. "The boiler was renewed last year so you'll be good."
This was easier than expected. Ricky didn't seem to need much convincing. Or maybe Alec underestimated his capabilities. He had gotten a lot of practice in Europe.
"I couldn't find the towels," Alec lied. "Could you show me where they are?"
"Sure," Ricky said, entered and closed the door behind him.
