by Emery, Lynn
“Untie me and pretend you gave me ether. Get Marion to leave and I’ll—”
Gina’s eyes went wide with terror. She shook her head so hard her short red curls bounced around. “You must be out of your freaking mind, girl.”
“Then you come up with a plan. I know you want out of this situation. We’re talking heavy prison sentences here,” LaShaun said.
“Let me think. Shit.” Gina flailed her hands for a few seconds. Then she snapped her fingers. “I got it! I’ll pretend that you had to go use the toilet real bad. When I took off one strap you overpowered me. Punch me hard a few times to make it look real.”
“No problem,” LaShaun drawled.
“That could work. I’ll unlock the door. Take a left. At the end the hall is a window with no bars. Harry just put them on these windows for other, uh, activities we’ve had.”
“Right.” LaShaun took that to mean they’d held others here against their will. She made a note to do research on any missing persons around Vermilion Parish.
“Okay, okay. I’m going to untie you now.” Gina paused as though unsure.
“You better move it over here fast ‘cause Marion could be here any second,” LaShaun said firmly.
Gina scurried over and tugged at the knots in the leather straps. “Damn they tied these good. I’m not sure I can get them loose. Shit, I broke a nail.”
“Hurry up.” LaShaun scowled at the woman.
“I got this one. There.” Gina stood back, arms spread out. “Okay, slap me before I lose my nerve.”
“Sure thing,” LaShaun shot back. She put all her force into the slap across the left side of Gina’s face. The loud crack bounced off the papered walls.
The woman let out a whosh of air. She staggered, blinking rapidly. “What the…”
Before Gina could finish the sentence LaShaun punched her in the stomach with a closed fist. The redhead bent double as she gulped for air. LaShaun slapped her again for the satisfaction and then ran to the door. Before she could make it out, LaShaun felt pain at her temples. Gina had a handful of her hair. With a grunt of force she dragged LaShaun back into the bedroom.
“You believed that bullshit, didn’t you? I didn’t mention something. In a former life I was a wrestler.” Gina swung LaShaun until she slammed onto the bed. “Cherry Bomb, three time Divas of The South Champion.”
“Get off me,” LaShaun pushed hard. Only then did she feel the solid muscle of Gina’s arms and legs.
“I like it rough, baby girl. Let’s have fun,” Gina panted close to LaShaun’s ear.
“Yeah. I’m up for it,” LaShaun through clenched teeth.
Gina chuckled low in her throat when LaShaun couldn’t get leverage to get free. Indeed the woman enjoyed the thrill of a physical battle. LaShaun sensed the excitement that rippled through her. Not satisfied, Gina sprang back and let LaShaun get to her feet. But seconds later she jumped on LaShaun’s back. She straddled LaShaun, pinning her to the hardwood floor.
“Looks like you’re not up for it after all, sweetie,” Gina said between heavy breathing. She put her face close to LaShaun’s. “I hope they let me have a crack at you again. Hmm, you smell good.”
LaShaun stared into Gina’s dark blues eyes. The woman wore a sadistic smile as she puffed hard. With a burst of red hot energy coursing through her veins, LaShaun grunted. Gina’s mocking expression slipped, and so did the pressure of her hold on LaShaun. She looked confused for a few seconds.
“What the hell is happening?” Gina squawked. She tried to maintain her grip, but pain mixed with growing alarm distracted her.
“I’m not having fun anymore, baby girl,” LaShaun shot back.
She flipped Gina onto her stomach and delivered two quick blows to the redhead’s jaw. Gina’s body went slack, her eyes rolled back and then closed as she passed out. With her opponent down for the count, LaShaun ran to the door. She got there just as Marion appeared carrying a tray with glasses and a Backgammon board tucked under one arm. LaShaun body slammed Marion against the opposite wall and sprinted down the hallway to the window. No bars. Gina hadn’t lied about that at least. LaShaun grabbed a heavy brass ashtray on her way past a table. She smashed through the glass, not willing to take time opening it. She scrambled through it as male voices shouted behind her.
For a few dizzying moments LaShaun hung onto the window sill. She looked down from the second floor. When the voices grew closer she let go. A gardenia bush broke her fall, but she had scratches from the wood. Rolling to the ground, LaShaun felt stunned. But fear and adrenaline forced her up. She sprinted straight ahead into dark woods. A full moon lit the way as she pumped her legs until she ran full speed. LaShaun made as little noise as possible despite the panic stabbing into her like daggers. With eyesight sharpened by survival instinct, she dodged trees and wild shrubbery. Shouts in the distance propelled her onward. LaShaun slowed to a quick trot. Glancing around to get her bearings, she estimated directions. Lights from the bed and breakfast appeared to her left, west. So she raced straight ahead in a northern direction. Highway 90 should be several miles ahead, if she made it that far. Then she stood still. The sound she heard meant someone or something had closed the gap between them.
“Damn.”
LaShaun shot forward opening up a burst of speed as she zig-zagged hoping to confuse her pursuer. But the effects of whatever drug Marion had put in the brandy seemed to have bounced back on her. Light-headed and breathing heavily, she slowed down. A solid body crashed into her as she darted to avoid a large pine tree. They both hit the ground.
“Got you,” Chase said. Or it was Abiku using his voice?
“Get the hell off me you…” LaShaun punched hard but missed when Chase snapped his head aside.
“It’s me. LaShaun, it’s me.” Chase struggled with her. “I swear it’s me.”
LaShaun continued to slap at him until her will to right the man she loved dissolved. No matter what possessed him, LaShaun couldn’t try to hurt Chase once she heard his voice. He pinned her hands down against a carpet of dead leaves as she sobbed until her chest hurt.
“I can’t do it anymore,” LaShaun cried.
“Shh…, baby I know.” Chase cradled her against his body. “LaShaun, listen to me. We don’t have much time.”
“Oh Chase.” LaShaun frantically kissed his face, hoping to wake up from the nightmare.
He pulled away and pressed keys into her hands. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold on. Thank God you ran in this direction. Turn to your right. There’s an old barn. Get in the truck and go.”
“I’m not leaving you with these demon worshiping psychos! No, I won’t—”
“They’re not going to hurt me, right? They need me to take over the world and start the new age. Until maybe we get Manny out of prison,” Chase added in a soft voice.
LaShaun cupped his face with both her hands. “You just said we, Chase. Let’s fight off that bastard from hell.”
“I turned off my flashlight, so they can’t see which way I came. Now run.” Chase shoved LaShaun away from him.
LaShaun wiped tears from her eyes. Voices sounded closer and closer. “I’m coming back for you.”
“Don’t go home. Not tonight. But you know that.” Chase turned to leave, but then faced LaShaun again. “I love you.”
“We’ll be together,” LaShaun protested, pushing back against the finality in his voice.
Chase shook his head and shot off in the opposite direction. Seconds later a bright light bounced when he turned on his flashlight again. LaShaun bit back a cry of anguish as she followed his instructions. After ten minutes of hard running she found the ramshackle barn with the doors lying broken on the ground. LaShaun almost sagged to her knees with relief when she saw Chase’s truck. She scrambled inside, fumbling to get the key into the ignition because her hands shook. Once she got the engine started, LaShaun hit the gas pedal. Five minutes of bumping down a gravel road brought her to a black top surface.
“Whic
h way do I go?” LaShaun muttered in frustration as she looked around. Then she remembered the GPS system.
LaShaun whispered a thank you when the mechanical sound of its voice command gave her directions. Each time she saw headlights in her rear view mirror LaShaun tensed up. She didn’t know which made her more paranoid, being alone on the dark highway or watching a vehicle approach. With the window down and cold air hitting her face, LaShaun’s thinking cleared. Only one destination might offer safety for a time.
“Let’s hope I’ve got enough gas to make it to Mouton Cove.”
Chapter 19
Miss Rose shushed her anxious husband and three grandchildren. The oldest child, a tall lanky girl of eleven, had large eyes, round with curiosity. The next one in age was a boy who appeared to be about eight. The youngest couldn’t have been older than five. She had sandy red hair, light brown skin, and one thumb in her mouth. She gazed between her grandmother and their visitor.
LaShaun hadn’t expected Miss Rose to have a full house. No wonder they stared at her in fright. Leaves drifted to the floor when LaShaun raked fingers through her tangled hair. She tried to tuck the shirt into the yoga pants. Realizing that only made her appearance more bizarre, she smoothed out the shirt instead. LaShaun smiled at the five year old. The little one shrank behind her grandfather until she disappeared completely.
“Pierre, take the children over to Eloise’s. They can spend the night there,” Miss Rose said quietly. Then she looked at her grandchildren. “Your Tante Eloise baked a chocolate cake and has ice cream waiting. Your cousin Tremaine is over there.”
“Tremaine has video games,” the little boy piped up in excitement. He shot off without waiting for more instructions.
“Come with us, Monmon,” the youngest girl said in a high voice that spoke of tears to come.
“Papa is going to be with you, sweetheart. We’ll sing while your Uncle Ivory plays his guitar,” Mr. Fontenot said. He picked her up and kissed her round cheeks. As he tickled and teased her, the little one smiled. Soon she let out a laugh as Mr. Fontenot walked off with her.
“Go on now, Isabelle,” Miss Rose said, urging the older child to follow him.
“I’m not scared. I can help,” Isabelle said with confidence. She gazed at LaShaun.
“Not yet, baby. I’ll let you know when it’s time.” Miss Rose shooed her down the hallway. Though reluctant to leave, the child obediently walked away. But not without several backward glances.
“That little lady wants to know what’s going on,” LaShaun said when Miss Rose came back into the living room.
“Isabelle has the gift of special sight. I pray that she’s not burdened by it. But Le Bon Dieu knows best,” Miss Rose said with a sigh. Then she turned her full attention to LaShaun. “Well?”
“These people are playing with forces they don’t understand, Miss Rose. But that’s on them. I’ve got to save Chase.”
“Sit down and tell me.” Miss Rose eased into one of the chairs nearby, a rocker that matched the two sofas.
“No, if I sit down I might pass out from exhaustion,” LaShaun replied. She massaged her forehead trying to think straight.
Then she told Miss Rose about the sequence of events while pacing. She paused only when Mr. Fontenot came back to announce they were leaving. With a brief wave he turned back down the hallway. The children’s voices could be heard as they waited for him at the back door. The back door slammed shut and the locked clicked. Only then did LaShaun finish her account. Miss Rose asked no questions, but allowed her to tell the story in her own way. Finally LaShaun finished. Spent, she sank down onto the sofa.
“I ended up here to tell you what happened, to get advice or an opinion. Or… something. I don’t know. I can’t go home.” LaShaun hid a yawn behind her right hand. “I’ve got money for a hotel.”
“No, you won’t go to a hotel. You stay here,” Miss Rose said.
“I can’t put you at risk, Miss Rose. They’ll be looking for me. Chase will figure out where I am eventually and he’s, well he’s not responsible.” LaShaun fought the urge to curl into a ball and cry her eyes out. Now was definitely not the time to collapse.
“You’ll be more vulnerable alone. Besides, you say those folks are on a deadline. They won’t spend what little time they have searching for you.” Miss Rose looked at LaShaun with a grave expression. “They have Deputy Broussard, and as you said this evil one has control over him.”
“He helped me get way, so the control isn’t complete,” LaShaun protested. She sat up straight.
“The fact remains that Deputy Broussard loses himself for long periods of time, cher,” Miss Rose said, pressing home her point.
“I would know, if…”
“Non, ma cherie. We who have the gifts can’t always tell what is happening to the ones we love. It’s as if God knew what true heartache that might bring. How could we stand to be around family knowing they would be hurt or worse? How could Pauline and Justine not go insane hearing from their own deceased family members constantly? There are those of us who do. Mostly they live solitary lives with no mate, no children. They cut themselves off to have some measure of peace.” Miss Rose gently rocked in the chair.
“That’s who we need, someone with a powerful connection to the other world. Let’s get in touch with her, or him.” LaShaun stood up.
Miss Rose continued to rock in silence for a few seconds. Then she went still and gazed up at LaShaun. “I only knew of two. Your grandmother, Odette. The other was the man Jean Paul. I haven’t seen him in over thirty years, and I have no idea where he might be.”
“But there must be others,” LaShaun insisted. “You just said…”
“I know of others, but only secondhand. We can’t just call up somebody we don’t know and invite them to battle with demons, cher.” Miss Rose raised a hand cutting off LaShaun’s impending passionate argument to the contrary. “There is more. Sit back down.”
“I don’t like the sound of this,” LaShaun mumbled, but obeyed much like the older woman’s granddaughter had earlier.
“From your account these events have been well planned. Those teenagers have likely been performing rituals that strengthened this thing,” Miss Rose spat out the last word with disgust.
“Makes sense,” LaShaun agreed.
“But more cunning adult followers somehow detected the demon had grown in strength.” Miss Rose stopped talking and studied LaShaun. She waited patiently while LaShaun thought for a time.
“How would Neal Montgomery know about things happening in Vermilion Parish?” LaShaun asked, but not Miss Rose.
The older woman kept quiet as LaShaun got up and paced again. This time LaShaun didn’t have the feverish movements of a woman in panic mode. She turned over the facts in her mind. Suddenly images flashed before her as though a tiny movie screen inside her head.
Miss Rose nodded. “You see it.”
“Montgomery met Manny Young a good five years ago. This club or group has been searching for a sign, and Manny led them to Vermilion Parish.” LaShaun came to a stop in front of Miss Rose. “He and this spirit have grown stronger, thanks to me.”
“No time for self recriminations. You weren’t the first Rousselle deceived into opening the door for him,” Miss Rose warned wagging a forefinger at LaShaun.
“I carry the same amount of guilt for this crime,” LaShaun said. “But you’re right. What’s done is done.”
“So this Montgomery and those of his group learn that a strong power rests here in Vermilion Parish. Go on,” Miss Rose urged.
“They probably stumbled on Manny by accident. Nothing in the court documents would make him stand out from any other serial killer in Louisiana.” LaShaun paused. “Can’t believe I just said that.”
“South Louisiana has been a killing ground. Three killers were caught in Baton Rouge alone. They were sentenced to death like Manny Young.” Miss Rose stopped rocking and rubbed her chin in thought.
LaShaun looked at her. �
�There are still at least sixty unsolved murders of women in East Baton Rouge Parish. None have been connected to any of those three.”
“There’s another series of murders in central Louisiana, too.” Miss Rose stared back at LaShaun.
“You’re thinking what I’m thinking, huh? Evil has been at work. What if these lawyers and their helpers know other serial killers? They could be helping them avoid capture.” LaShaun stood still as the full force of her theory hit home. “What if this demon leads them to the others? They represent them for minor crimes; advise them on staying under the radar or how to avoid detection.”
“Lord help us. Lawyers are helping vicious killers roam free? These are educated people,” Miss Rose said, her voice rising. The former teacher seemed to find it hard to believe such a thing. To her education and those with advanced degrees would find only high and noble purposes.
“Education and morals are not always connected. How many educated men worked for Hitler? For Chairman Mao? Remember your history lessons.” LaShaun gave Miss Rose a consoling pat on the shoulder. “I’m afraid book knowledge doesn’t equate to goodness in the soul.”
“Oui.” Miss Rose sighed. “I sound terribly naive for my age. Of course you’re right. So Vermilion Parish attracts their interest.”
“Manny must have told them about his father. I don’t know if Manny told him about the Rousselle family. But with even a little bit of research they could find out. If they visited the museum in Beau Chene, I know Pete would have been thrilled to give them more sources,” LaShaun said. As the museum director Pete Kluger had his dream job. He would probably live at the museum if his wife allowed it.
“I haven’t been there in a while. I used to take my students to the old Francois House on field trips when I was still teaching,” Miss Rose put in with a smile. “That was years ago. Then it became the first museum, and a bigger, modern building was put up.”
