The structure exuded a sense of foreboding, from the chipped foundation to the roof that needed repairing. It was as if a million silent words poured from the old walls, like a symphony, reminding them of terrible deeds of long past, of the horrors the old house had seen. It was a sense of apprehension that was difficult to ignore.
“I remember as a kid, I’d walk this way on my way home from school,” Tommie said quietly, his eyes riveted to the peeling paint of the old walls. “The house was in better shape back then. Laveau was still alive but this place was really locked in on itself. Big dogs in the yard, people sitting on the porch with shotguns. No one came near it. We were terrified just walking past it. In fact, I’ve never been this close to it.”
Beau was looking up at the second floor. He swore he saw the outline of a woman standing in the corner room, near the windows. It was a rather curvaceous outline. But it was quickly gone and he snorted, thinking that maybe he’d seen a ghost. Given the stories about this place, it wouldn’t have surprised him.
“It was starting to look pretty run down when I was a kid,” Beau said, foregoing a mention of the ghost. “This had to be, oh, thirty years ago. Laveau was dead at that point but there were still people on the front porch with shotguns.”
Tommie snorted. “You couldn’t get away with that these days,” he said, peering at the porch and the door beyond. “I’ve never been inside it, but I think my daddy was at some point.”
Beau nodded. “I remember him talking about it,” he said. “I don’t really remember much about what he said, but I seem to recall him saying that he came here for a birthday party when he was young. Maybe it was Ms. Victory’s party.”
Tommie shrugged. “Maybe,” he said. “Ms. Victory and my daddy were born around the same time, so it’s possible.”
“Did they go to school together?”
Tommie shook his head. “Not back then,” he said. “Well-bred young ladies went to private all-girl schools if they could afford them. Pea Ridge had an academy out on the outskirts of town that serviced the entire county. Not much call for expensive private schools in this rural area.”
Beau didn’t say anything more. They were up on the porch now, greeting the people who were standing outside, eating and talking. Tommie reached out to open the ancient screen door, admitting him and his son to the cool, dank home.
People were congregated in small groups in the two front rooms. To the left was the dining room with a massive table, laden with food and crock pots, and to the right was a parlor. Tommie wasn’t sure which direction to go, so he headed into the parlor where people were sitting on furniture that was probably forty years old – all of it was covered in plastic but in surprisingly good shape.
As Beau stood back, visually inspecting the layout of the old house, Tommie approached a couple he knew and extended his hand to the male half. He shook hands with the man and exchanged some small talk, finally asking for Ms. Victory’s relatives or whoever was in charge. The couple pointed him into the dining room, specifically, to a man and woman who were in conversation with a very old woman with a walker.
When Tommie spied the pair, something about the man struck a chord in him. In fact, he felt a bit of a jolt because the man looked just like Laveau Hembree – tall, good-looking, and with a head of graying hair, the resemblance was uncanny. Tommie thanked his friends for their direction and, taking Beau with him, headed into the dining room.
The cavernous dining room smelled heavily of food, of chicken and greens and cornbread. It was enough to pull Beau to the table to inspect the offerings but Tommie headed straight to the man who looked like Laveau Hembree. He waited politely for the man to finish his conversation with the very old woman in the walker before introducing himself.
“Excuse me,” Tommie said, watching the man turn to look at him. He extended his hand. “My name is Tommie Meade. My family has lived in Pea Ridge nearly as long as the Hembree family and I wanted to come today to tell you how sorry I am to hear of Ms. Victory’s passing. She is one of the last of a dying breed around here.”
The man who resembled Laveau took the hand offered to him and shook it. “Bill Bondurant,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
Tommie suddenly looked stricken. “Bill Bondurant?” he hissed. Then, he broke down into ironic laughter. “Billy! Is it really you?”
“It is.”
“Good Lord, I didn’t even recognize you!”
Bill laughed right along with him. “Seriously, Tommie?” he said, feigning insult. “You and me hung around together right up through high school and you didn’t even recognize me?”
Tommie shook his head, embarrassed. “I haven’t seen you in over forty years,” he said. “People change. And my eyesight is terrible. I’m really ashamed.”
Bill kept grinning. “I left Pea Ridge when I was eighteen and went off to college,” he said. “Then I moved to California. I haven’t seen you in all of the times I’ve been back to visit my mother, so I’m the one who should be ashamed. I should have looked you up sometime in the past forty years but I didn’t. You and I were good friends, once.”
Tommie thought back to those days when he and his group of friends, Bill included, prowled around Pea Ridge on their bikes and later in their cars. They had all gone to school locally, a public whites-only school back in the days of the “Separate but Equal” movement before Dr. Martin Luther King’s movement began to gain steam.
Most of the boys Tommie had hung around with never left the area, content to stay in their own neck of the woods. But Bill had been one of the very few to actually leave and make something of himself outside of the small town culture that tended to suck down and smother everything and everybody it touched.
Deep down, Tommie had always envied Bill for having gotten out when he did.
“We were blood brothers from what I recall,” he said. “I seemed to remember slitting my finger over yours, once.”
Bill chuckled. “You sure did.”
Tommie’s gaze lingered on the man. “Then from one blood brother to another, you don’t need to explain things to me,” he said quietly. “I understand why things were the way they were. Your mama didn’t want me around and I get that. But we’re seeing each other now, aren’t we?”
Bill’s smile faded. “I’m glad we are,” he said. “With Mama gone, there’s no reason not to see each other again. But I have to tell you… I’m really surprised to see you here, given how my mother always reacted to you.”
Tommie scratched his head, an almost nervous gesture. “Me, too,” he admitted. “But it’s like I told my son – I felt like I had to come. I feel like I have to apologize.”
Bill’s eyebrows flew up. “For what, for Christ’s sake?”
Tommie shrugged, averting his gaze. “Things,” he said quietly. “Past things.”
Bill knew what he meant. He found it rather sad that the man felt as if he needed to apologize for the sins of their fathers and grandfathers. “Tommie, your family and my family have a history together that neither one of us should apologize for,” he said in a subdued tone. “We didn’t do any of those things that people talk about. There have never been any apologies between you and me and there never will be as far as I’m concerned.”
Tommie felt much better. In fact, now he was glad he had come. Seeing his old friend today had crossed his mind but he hadn’t seen the man in so many years, he wasn’t sure how Bill would react to his appearance. Now, he knew. It was better than he could have hoped for.
“Well…,” he said, touched by Bill’s attitude, relieved by the situation in general. “That’s good to know, Billy. I hope we’ll be seeing something of you in the future. I’d like that.”
Bill put a hand on his shoulder. “Me, too,” he said. “Mama left us this big, old monstrosity of a house. You will definitely be seeing us in the future while we spend some time here cleaning it out. This is my wife, by the way. I don’t think you’ve ever met Mary.”
Tommie turned his attention on the elegant blonde woman at Bill’s side. He shook her hand politely. “No, I haven’t,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Mary.”
Mary smiled pleasantly. “Nice to meet you, also,” she said.
Tommie caught movement out of the corner of his eye then, seeing that Beau was close by. He reached out and pulled the rather large man in a sheriff’s uniform away from the table and over to their group.
“This is my son,” he said to Bill and Mary. “Beau, this is my old friend, Billy Bondurant, and his wife, Mary. Billy is Ms. Victory’s son.”
Beau smiled pleasantly at the pair. “Hello,” he said, shaking their hands in succession. “My condolences on the passing of your mother, Mr. Bondurant. She was definitely one of the more respected residents in town. In fact, when my dad and I were walking up to the house, we were reminiscing about our memories of it. It’s definitely an icon around here.”
Bill shook the hand of the big man with broad shoulders and a superhero-square jaw. “Meade,” he muttered, looking at the uniform. “Didn’t I see that name on some posters around here?”
Beau nodded modestly. “I’m up for re-election.”
Bill’s eyes widened. “Sheriff Meade,” he said, making the connection. “Well, for Heaven’s sake… Tommie, your son is Sheriff Meade?”
Tommie nodded proudly. “That would be him.”
Bill laughed, doing a lite-version of a face palm. “I have no idea why I never made the connection,” he said. “I’ve seen that name around for a few years now, at least when I’ve come to visit Mama. Tommie, didn’t you work for the Tallahatchie County Sheriff’s Department, too?”
Tommie nodded. “I did,” he said. “I retired out as a lieutenant a few years ago, right after Beau was elected sheriff. Seems I couldn’t take orders from my own son.”
As Bill and Mary grinned, Beau simply shook his head. “He had been on twenty-eight years already and he’d been planning retirement long before I came on board. He just likes to tell people I chased him away. Needless to say, he is not my campaign manager.”
Bill chuckled softly, looking between father and son. “Your daddy also served in the sheriff’s department, as did your granddaddy,” he said to Tommie. “Four generations in the same family is pretty impressive.”
Tommie looked at his son, the warmth of pride still in his eyes. “Beau is smarter and better and more educated than the rest of us ever were,” he said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he ran for State Police Commissioner or even governor someday. This boy is working his way up.”
As Beau tried to downplay his political future, a new player entered the dining room. Lucy had just come down the treacherous stairs from the upper floor, looking for her parents in the front parlor before seeing Cousin Clyde and quickly changing course. Now, she darted into the dining room on the hunt for her parents and hoping to evade Clyde’s radar.
But she hadn’t been fast enough. Cousin Clyde saw her and, much to her horror, he was coming out of the parlor, waving to catch her attention. Mortified, Lucy pretended not to see him and quickly made her way through the people milling about in the dining room until she came to her parents. In a move of self-defense, she pushed herself between her mother and father, hoping Clyde wouldn’t have the balls to join them.
“Hi,” she whispered to her dad, eyeing Clyde as he entered the room. “Please hide me. Clyde has seen me and he wants to talk to me.”
Bill wasn’t the only one to hear her plea; Mary and Tommie and Beau did, too. Four heads turned in Clyde’s direction to see the man sauntering into the room, his attention in their direction. In his cheap suit and with his greasy hair and smarmy expression, Clyde didn’t seem to realize that Lucy had run from him. He was still trying to wave at her. Tommie was the first one to hiss.
“Not that boy,” he muttered. “I didn’t even see him when we came in. Did you, Beau?”
Beau was eyeing Clyde. “No,” he said. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”
Tommie snorted. “That’s a good thing,” he said. Then, he looked at Lucy. “Honey, is he after you? Do you want me to take care of him?”
Lucy looked at Tommie in surprise. She didn’t even know the man and couldn’t decide if his offer was chivalrous or simply vigilante-like. She didn’t need to set off some good ol’ boy down here and get her cousin bumped off. Standing right next to him was a younger, bigger, and much better looking version of the same man. In fact, she nearly did a double-take at the man in the sheriff’s uniform; to say he was hot would have been an understatement. Before she could reply to Tommie’s offer, however, Bill got involved.
“No, I’ll do it,” he mumbled unhappily. Quickly, he made introductions to the woman clinging on his arm. “Sheriff Meade, Tommie, this is my daughter, Lucy. Lucy, Tommie is an old friend of mine and this is his son, Beau. Now, head into the kitchen and I’ll go have a word with Cousin Clyde.”
It suddenly turned into some kind of covert operation and everyone was on the move, determined to get Lucy clear of the prowling cousin. While Mary and Bill went to head off Clyde, Tommie grabbed Beau by the arm and pointed to Lucy.
“Get her out of here,” he ordered his son quietly. “If Clyde slips past us, you’ll be her last line of defense.”
Beau knew who Clyde McKibben was and he furthermore knew the man’s reputation, thanks to his mother who went to church with Clyde’s mother. Not only could those church ladies cook, but they could gossip with the best of them, which sometimes told him more than he needed to know about people in the community. Knowing what he did about Clyde, he had no problem protecting the lady from what was widely known as a lecherous pervert.
Without a word, he followed Lucy out of the dining room, through the butler’s pantry, and into the big kitchen that hadn’t been remodeled since the nineteen fifties.
A mix of the very old and the very, very old, the kitchen had old wooden counters, a cast iron farm sink and sideboard, and a massive O’Keefe and Merritt Town and Country model stove that literally had everything built into it – burners, stoves, warmers, and all. It was in good shape for being as old as it was.
Huge open shelves lined one wall because, in the old days, there was no such thing as closed cabinetry for the most part, and even though there was an old General Electric refrigerator towards the rear of the kitchen, there was also the old icebox that no one had ever gotten rid of. As he came to a halt just inside the kitchen door, Lucy evidently hadn’t been aware that he’d followed her and she started when she realized he was standing in close proximity.
“Seriously,” she said, holding up her hands. “I’m sure it’s not all that critical that I need a bodyguard against Clyde. I think I can handle him if he comes in here.”
Beau’s gaze moved over the woman with the long auburn hair, cut into one of those sexy layered styles. She had the biggest green eyes he’d ever seen. He’d never seen her around town before, which was a shame considering how lovely she was. He would have definitely remembered her.
“How do you know?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows. “I hear he can be pretty wily.”
Lucy laughed softly. “You know him, then?”
“I know of him.”
She continued to giggle. “Oh, brother,” she said. “Don’t tell me he’s got a criminal record, too.”
Beau was rather enjoying listening to her laugh. “Let’s just say his reputation precedes, him,” he said. “Besides… my mama goes to church with his mama, so I hear things about him all of the time.”
Lucy was intrigued. Plus, she kind of liked this big cop with the deep voice. She liked the way his blue eyes glimmered.
“Like… what?” she said. “Like he’s been married six times? I can’t tell you how many times he has tried to make me wife number seven. It doesn’t even matter to him that we’re from the same family. Whenever I’d come to visit Mamaw, he always found a reason to come hang around. She’d have to chase him off with her cane.”
Bea
u broke out into a grin. “I believe it,” he said, scratching his head. “Like I said, his reputation precedes him.”
“Can’t talk about it?”
He wriggled his eyebrows, a smile playing on his lips. “I don’t want to gossip like my mama.”
“Facts aren’t gossip.”
He chuckled softly. “True enough,” he said. “It’s nothing earth-shattering. We’ve had a few calls on him, in various situations. Following women home from the market and things like that. Never enough to throw him in jail on, but he’s got a reputation.”
“Creepy?”
“Stalker is more like it.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Terrific,” she said, irony in her voice. “This family just can’t have nice, normal people in it, can it? Everyone has to be a freak to some degree.”
“You seem pretty normal.”
Lucy thought that might have sounded like a hint of a flirt. She raised her eyebrows at him. “How do you know?” she asked. “I could be the biggest freak of the whole bunch for all you know.”
Beau snorted. “That’s true,” he said. “Well, I suppose we’ve all got skeletons in our closets.”
“Some of us have an entire cemetery in ours.”
“You?”
She gave him a coy expression, much exaggerated. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
It really wasn’t a question, but more of a statement. Beau, swept up in the increasingly flirty conversation, almost answering that, yes, that he would like to know, but he didn’t give in to the urge. He shut his mouth and simply grinned. He didn’t want anything he said to come out as leading or inappropriate, no matter how cute he thought she was. It was better, at that point, to change the subject, so he did.
“So, you’re Ms. Victory’s granddaughter,” he said. “I don’t ever remember seeing you around town before. You said you’ve come to visit before?”
In the Dreaming Hour Page 6
