CHAPTER TWENTY

"How? How could he be alive?" asked Trak.

"I'm alive," said Marcel, staring at the dangerous man. "I'm not certain how any of this works. But if I'm here, he could be here as well."

"We need to speak to Mama and Pops," said Alec. "I know they don't want to speak about themselves, but if this man is a descendant of Couvillion or, God help us, the man himself, then we've got problems."

"I understand you wanted to speak with us," said Matthew, walking toward the table. Irene was holding his hand as always, lovingly, with affection and warmth. It didn't seem to bother anyone that they'd only just had that very thought. Suddenly, as always, they were there in front of them.

"Pops, we think Jacques Couvillion, the first one who rammed Marcel's ship, could be alive and somehow connected to all of these issues with the non-profits." Matthew nodded, then looked at the men.

"He's alive. When I met his ancestor at Christmas a few years ago and bought the fishing boats, I knew that he was alive and well. I could feel it. I could sense the evil."

"And you didn't think to tell us, Pops?" asked Miller.

"I didn't think it was relevant at the time," said Matthew. "Contrary to what y'all might think, I don't know everything, and I don't always know when everything is going to happen. I cannot always give you insight into what might occur in the future. Fate must play its hand, and you all have to experience things as they come."

"Alright, Pops, but how."

"My circumstances, and those of my family before me, were different. Our agreement was with God and, in my case, the very beautiful and talented woman I knew I would marry. We were here to make sure good men and women did good for all mankind. We have fulfilled our promise ten-fold by providing all of this so that you can make the world right again."

"I understand," said Gaspar, smiling at his father. He was saying that he would ensure that his children, his children's children, and all those that followed would leave this world a better place. And he liked to believe they had.

"Then understand that the reverse could be true. Couvillion could have made a deal with the devil himself and somehow is alive and well today. He might look the same. He might look different. But he is here, and he is causing trouble."

"He always hated me," said Marcel. "I was a much better ship's captain than he was, a much better sailor and navigator of the seas. I was able to avoid robbers, raiders, and pirates, as well as weather. He was known to have sunk at least three of his ships because of poor navigational abilities.

"If it's possible that he's alive and perhaps behind these thefts for non-profits, then he could be doing it to get to the treasure left on my ship. He rammed me for two reasons. To kill me and to get to the crown jewels."

"Why? I mean, it's not like he could sell them," said Amy. "Could he?"

"No. He could not sell them, my love. But he could hold them ransom or use them as a tool to prove that he was better than others thought."

"I hate to mention this, Marcel, but this is a man who, in all likelihood, has been working for centuries to be better than you. He could very well have been preparing for you to return as well," said Nine.

"I am prepared for whatever he brings forth, but what he's doing with the computers and these organizations is not supernatural. This is something we can stop. Then I need to stop him, the man himself," said Marcel.

"How do we do that, Pops?" asked Gaspar.

"He is alive. Flesh and blood — a man. He can be killed like any of you, including you, Marcel. Y'all need to be careful. He's been practicing deceit for two centuries." Matthew hugged his ‘sons,' each one getting a firm back slap and kiss on the forehead. As they started to walk away, Gaspar called out to his mother.

"Mama? Is there anything else at work here? Something we should know about."

"Evil is at work, son. Evil."

The men watched them walk away, then all turned to stare at Marcel.

"That wasn't much help. Marcel, we need to know everything you remember about Couvillion. Anything could be helpful for us."

"Of course. I think the best way to describe him would be devious. Your parents were correct in using the words deceit and evil. He was a man who wanted to make money quickly, and he was adept at using others to get what he wanted. He never did an honest day's work that I was witness to and preferred stealing from others."

"Hi, someone asked for me to come over," said Ela.

"Yeah," said Code, nodding to the woman. "Can you do a sketch based on a description from Marcel?"

"Sure. I'll do my best." Ela took a seat next to the man, pulling her pad and pencil out on the table.

"Alright. He wasn't very tall, perhaps about, hmmm," said Marcel, standing and then walking around the men and women. "I'd say a few inches shy of Tanner's height."

"So, maybe five feet ten or so," nodded Nine.

"He had dark hair, not quite black. His eyes were dark as well, somewhat set apart, making him look peculiar. His nose had been broken many times and had a bump at the bridge. His jaw was rounded, not very masculine at all. There was a small scar near his left eye, placed there by me," he grinned. The men laughed, nodding at their friend and brother.

Ela, the niece of Zeke and wife of Marc Jordan, was an exceptional artist who sold many of her works in the Robicheaux General Store and in their online business. She'd done several sketches for the team in the past and showed a great skill that was only improving.

Angel smiled at his daughter-in-law as she worked. Although she'd been unable to have children, it did not diminish his son's love for her, nor his and Mary's love for the young woman. She was special, and they loved her being part of their family.

"Alright, how's this?" she said, turning her sketch pad.

"That's him!" said Marcel. "You are gifted. That is an exact likeness of him, only perhaps an eviler expression. He was not a likeable fellow."

"Keep in mind that he could have changed, like Pops said," Gaspar told them, taking the picture.

"I know him," whispered Amy, looking over Gaspar's shoulder. "I've seen that man and did not like the way he looked at me."

"What?" frowned Marcel.

"H-he came into Prometheus to speak with me about potentially giving a sizeable donation. He asked a lot of questions about how we were founded. He said that he was considering making a large donation to a non-profit but wanted to be certain that we were stable and in good standing in the community."

"What else, Amy? This is important, hun," said Nine.

"He asked about your portrait," she said, looking at her husband. "I thought that was odd. I can't explain it. I can't tell you why I did it, but he asked if it was the original, and I lied."

"You what?" frowned Gaspar.

"I lied to him. I told him it was a replica and that the original was in another location, one that I was unaware of. I remember that he asked if there were any other non-profits run by the Prometheus Foundation."

"Well, there are none," said Marcel.

"No, there aren't. But Mr. Sheffield wanted him to think we were bigger than we really are, so he said the Foundation was connected to dozens of other non-profits."

"He signed his own death warrant," frowned Marcel. "Couvillion will not give up until he destroys anything and everything associated with me. We need to contact this man, Sheffield, again."

The men saw the look of pain on Marcel's face, then looked at Amy. He was speaking of her when he mentioned Couvillion's desire to destroy anything related to him.

"He figured out that the shelter was run by the Robicheaux group," said Nine. "He's trying to tear down anything related to the Robicheaux name, but more than that, just destroy anything or anyone attempting to do good." Marcel stood, facing his friends and family.

"Then we stop him."