Chasing Shadow Demons

by John Moore

  “That is a sad story, Dusty,” Susan said. “Do you have any family?”

  “None that aren’t in jail. There’s just me,” she answered. “I probably would have started turning tricks were it not for you, Alexandra.”

  “Me, why?” I asked.

  “When I first saw you walk into the club, I thought you were a dancer too. I went near the door to listen to what you and Clint were saying, wanting to know about my competition. I heard you tell Clint you wouldn’t make any deals with him. Nobody ever stands up to Clint, and I said to myself, if she can be that brave, maybe I can too. Then when I heard how you fought to get the little girl back, you inspired me to change my life. I don’t have to be a dancer or make a living on my back. I am here to stay on my feet, find a real job, and finish my education. Maybe I’ll even go to law school. Thank you, Alexandra.”

  I felt a swell of pride surge up my spine. I never considered myself an inspiration to anyone. I was just a small-town girl from a corn farm in Indiana. I wondered how many lost souls there were like Dusty in the city; surely too many to count. It’s funny how one story like hers and a thank-you could make all of the trouble worth it.

  Susan didn’t miss a beat. “Why that’s wonderful, Dusty. You would make a fine lawyer.”

  Piper and I left the center and met Tom at home. The day had been wonderful for him as well. He was relieved to find that he still had a job. The company he worked for was also environmentally concerned and supported his peaceful protests with ROLL. They did not know about his activities with the non-violent sister organization ROLF. It was a good day all around.

  The next day Tom asked if I could invite Zach and Maddy over for coffee. Tom and I had something we wanted to discuss with them. They arrived in the early afternoon. Zach’s injuries had mostly healed. Maddy was her usual ball of energy describing how she and Zach had been researching organic farming on the web. She went on and on about their future plans, creating the opening Tom was looking for.

  “Zach, Maddy,” Tom said. “Alexandra told me all about the help you gave her when I was in Mexico. It was a very brave thing risking your life to help her. She also told me that you and Maddy would one day like to farm organic vegetables. As you know, Alexandra has farmland in Indiana. It is currently under lease by Aggrow, a land-destroying, chemical-spewing, conglomerate monster. Their lease is ending at the end of this month. We won’t renew it. Would you like to start your organic farming operation on Alexandra’s land? We’ll put up the seed money and we’ll all share the profits.”

  Zach fell completely quiet. He rubbed his ears as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard what Tom said. Maddy smiled and looked at her brother, who looked a little dumbfounded, waiting for him to answer. Slowly the words sunk in as he decided Tom and I were serious. A smile conquered his face, and he shouted, “Hell yes!”

  “That’s fantastic,” Tom said. “I’ve been networking through the company I work for and found a California company who does environmental remediation. Their founder also has an organic vegetable farm. I’ve spoken to him. He’s agreed to meet us in Indiana to sign the contract to remove the poisons from the well. He’ll also be an adviser to you and Maddy on organic farming. As it turns out my mother and father have already visited his farm. He’s the real deal.”

  Maddy jumped up, ran around the table, and hugged me. She grabbed Piper, and the two spun around doing her happy dance. She asked me what my hometown was like. I told her all of my stories about growing up in Silbee. It sounded perfect to her. She told me she’d start a fitness program for the residents free of charge. I thought of the three frumpy old ladies who’d been my mother’s friends, dressed in leotards, and had a great chuckle. That would really be a sight to see, I thought.

  Tom and Zach diagrammed the farm, sectioning the parts right for growing vegetables without irrigation. They’d calculated the temperature changes and figured not many vegetables would be appropriate for the harsh Indiana climate. They factored in building a greenhouse to cope with the fall temperatures. Profit wasn’t our motive. We wanted to do our part contributing to a sustainable way of living for all Americans, having no idea where our efforts might lead. But, we did believe it was the right thing to do.

  Maddy and I talked about my family home. I told her she could do whatever she wanted to it. No one had lived in the house for quite some time, and it would require a mammoth effort to clean and organize. She said she was more than ready to take that on. I had no doubt about that. She was a solid ball of energy. I was sure my mother was smiling down from heaven at the thought of having such a sweet person rattling the pots and pans in the family home again.

  Piper had long since gotten bored with our conversation and was using Google Earth to view the French Quarter and the condo we were closing on in the morning. The bank had quickly approved our loan using an updated appraisal to verify that the value of the condo was much greater than what we were paying. It was settled that after the closing tomorrow, Tom, Maddy, and Zach would hop a plane to Indiana, and Piper and I would start painting the garage at the condo in the French Quarter. We all called it a day, knowing tomorrow would be long for all of us.

  Tom, Piper, and I went to the closing at eight in the morning, and by nine we had the keys and were on our way to the French Quarter to walk through the rooms. The color scheme was a little dated for my taste, so Piper and I chose new colors to paint the entire condo and modernize it. We bought all the paint we needed and stored it at the condo. My plan was to have the garage, kitchen, bathrooms, and bedrooms painted when Tom returned from Indiana. There was a great deal to be done, but excitement was powering us.

  Piper and I took Tom to the Louis Armstrong International Airport and dropped him off. We scooted back to the Quarter to start painting. Since my skills were a little rusty, I parked my car in a parking garage down the street, not wanting to get paint on my car. Piper and I walked to the condo enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of the French Quarter. We painted and laughed, having a great time all day. We got poboys for dinner, figuring we had worked off the excess calories. Maybe not the best choice, but it didn’t hurt to splurge every once in a while. Besides, we had to stay in the Quarter and get takeout to finish our painting job on the garage. Piper had gotten most of the paint on herself. She looked like modern art.

  Darkness fell, and before we knew it, it was nine o’clock. It was time for us to quit for the night. We cleaned our brushes and a little off our faces. I had paint down the legs of my pants to my tennis shoes. Piper had it all over her clothes, face, and hair. We looked as though we’d rolled in it.

  We held hands, chattering away about our talent as painters all the way to my car. The parking garage was almost completely empty, the lights near not working. When I looked closer I saw the bulbs were smashed. There was glass on the concrete floor under each of the light fixtures. Damn vandals, I thought. Why would they want to bust these lights out?

  I didn’t have time to answer my own question. El Alacran sprung out of the stairwell by my car brandishing a long machete-like knife in his left hand. Before I could react he was on me. He balled his right fist and knocked me to the ground. The punch landed right on my jaw. I was dazed and a little out of it as I hit the concrete floor with a thud. Piper ran at him swinging wildly. He pushed her to the ground and she fell against the car. He had a crazed look in his eyes, like the one I’d seen in Colombia just after he killed Camila and threatened me.

  “Now, you American puta, I’m going to teach you to fuck with me. Victor isn’t here to save you. I’m going to cut this little smart-ass computer bitch’s head off while you watch. Then, I’m going to cut yours off and roll it down the stairs like a bowling ball.”

  While he was screaming at me, he was pointing the machete at me. Then he turned his back to me and walked toward Piper. She was pinned against the car. I could see tears and a terror-filled expression on her face as the machete caught a ray
from a distant light and glinted in her face. I slowly regained my senses as El Alacran took deliberate steps toward Piper. I pulled up my pants leg and pulled my .38 from the holster. I took aim and squeezed the trigger gently just like my father had shown me so many years ago. The bullet hit him in the upper right-hand corner of his back. It spun him around. He looked at me in disbelief and took one step toward me. It was the last step he ever took. I shot him in his black heart. He catapulted backward, hitting the trunk of my car and rolling to the ground not five feet from Piper.

  I sprang to my feet, opened the car door, and threw Piper inside. I walked back over to El Alacran. His chest was not moving. I saw a black form rise from his body and whisk away into the ground. I stood over him ready to fire again, but it wasn’t necessary. He was dead. There could be no doubt El Alacran was dead.

  Chapter Thirty-Two:

  The Return

  I know I saw evil leave his body, and it scared the living hell out of me. I’d heard stories about souls leaving the body since I was a child, but never thought I’d actually witness it. I shuddered, thinking of where that soul was going. Then I looked up to see Piper staring at me from the back window of the car. She strained her neck to see if the Scorpion was dead. I glanced back at him and wondered for a brief moment if he would get back up, if he had some deal with the devil for extra lives. It didn’t seem that far-fetched once I’d seen that black form emerge from his body.

  I started shaking to the point where I could barely hold the .38. Should I put it down or back in my holster? I decided the safe thing to do was to snap it back in its ankle holster. Devil or not, he wasn’t getting up like the monsters do in horror movies. He was gone for good. He was permanently and irrevocably dead.

  When Piper saw I was trembling, she opened the door and called 911. I kept my eye on the Scorpion’s body just in case I was mistaken. Funny how the movies have taught us not to trust that evil can be killed. Maybe it can’t. Maybe it just makes its way into some other body. From what I’d witnessed it was always around. The evils of the world were like weeds in a garden. They would always find a way to grow back. Good people needed to stay vigilant.

  While Piper spoke to the 911 operator, I called Detective Baker. He said he’d come right away. My mind ran the scene over and over again like an instant replay from an ESPN broadcast. I couldn’t get the picture of El Alacran’s face when I shot him out of my mind. Soon the flashing lights and sirens arrived. Baker came shortly afterward and took Piper and me to the precinct for questioning. Baker and I both knew it was just a formality. He was happy there was one less drug lord plaguing the streets of New Orleans, but we both also knew that it was like swatting mosquitoes. You could never get them all.

  While we were in the interrogation room a detective brought in a computer and put a disk in it for Detective Baker. The garage had a working surveillance system. My entire encounter with El Alacran was recorded. There could be no question about the righteousness of the shooting. Still I struggled with the fact that I’d just taken a man’s life. His face, the look in his eyes when he knew he was dying, stained my thoughts. I had to find a way to reconcile it in my mind, never dreaming I’d kill anyone. I wondered what the judge in Piper’s custody case would have to say about me having custody of Piper now.

  When I finally had a chance to call Tom, he and Zach had finished arranging for the contractor to remediate the well in Indiana. Tom immediately dropped everything and jumped on the first flight back to New Orleans. Zach and Maddy agreed to stay in Indiana and oversee the job, but I needed Tom back in the city next to me. It was time to make some sense of our crazy life. We needed to move into our new condo and get Piper enrolled in school. The judge still had to rule on our custody arrangements. My mind was working overtime.

  As I drove home, I looked at the sky. Silently I asked my mom for strength. No words were spoken to me from the heavens, nor did I hear my familiar inner voice, but what I did see was a peculiar cloud formation. Just for a moment it looked like a girl smiling at me. Then I realized it looked just like Camila. Was she smiling because her killer had been dispatched, or was it because she had found peace? Maybe I just needed to see something like that, or maybe it was really there. It didn’t matter which one it was because it worked. I smiled right back at her, my inner critical voice silenced, calmed down, and giving me some rest.

  Piper and I picked Tom up at the airport. We didn’t talk much on the way home. We were headed to my old place. We still didn’t have furniture in the Bourbon Street condo, and the painting wasn’t complete. There was time to do all of that tomorrow or the next day, or the next. I just needed to be held in Tom’s arms. That’s exactly what he did all through the night. He stroked my hair and told me everything would be alright. Every time I awoke, he was stroking my hair or kissing me gently. I don’t believe he got any sleep that night.

  Piper ran into our room in the morning with a cup of coffee in each hand. “Can we start moving into the Quarter condo today? Can we please?”

  “We sure can,” I said. “But first we have some painting to do. This time let’s try to get some on the walls.”

  We all laughed. Family was just what I needed. I’d learned a great deal about myself over the last few months. I wasn’t a loner after all. I was a family woman. Sure my family was a little unconventional, but we were a family nonetheless. I drew strength from them, and I’d learned I’d go as far as I needed to protect them. I didn’t regret shooting El Alacran. I was haunted by the memory, but I didn’t regret it. Sometimes the evil in the world forces you to kill to protect your family. Not your property, your family.

  Piper turned on the television to check the weather forecast. She loved seeing the bottle-blond weather babe try to look intelligent when she tried to speak like a meteorologist. Piper said she’d never seen so much hairspray on thin hair till she moved to New Orleans. I’m not sure if she was talking about the women or the men. New Orleans had to be the comb-over capital of the world.

  The news was on instead of the weather. We all paused when we heard the reporter say, “The body of a law enforcement officer was discovered leaning against an above-ground grave in historic Lafayette Cemetery. The officer, Alric Jaeger, died of an apparently self-inflicted single gunshot wound to the head. Mr. Jaeger, an Interpol agent, had recently been placed under investigation as a result of molestation accusations leveled against him. The grave was that of a young child murdered by a German immigrant in the early 1800s. The child was a resident of the Irish Channel. Lafayette Cemetery is the final resting place for many of the poor working-class immigrants who lived in the Irish Channel section of New Orleans. The police report indicated that no foul play was involved. Mr. Jaeger’s body will be transported back to his native Germany.”

  We all sat in shock. I found it hard to believe that Jaeger shot himself. More likely he received street justice. He was a law enforcement officer who crossed the line. That made him fair game in this city. I couldn’t help but think he got what he deserved. He crossed into the world of the shadow demons to do what they did. I guess he got what they got. Once he went in, he couldn’t find his way back out. As sad as it was, I knew actions had consequences, and Jaeger’s karma finally caught up with him.

  A week later we’d completed painting and furnishing the condo. I had to admit it was beautiful. Piper and Tom loved living in the Quarter. I wouldn’t say we were a conventional family, but then again, nothing is conventional in New Orleans. And in the French Quarter normal is just weird. I worked during the day with Charlotte, promoting our stevia company. Since we now had a large place with three bedrooms, Tom and I had the privacy to make love at night, and boy, did we ever. The energy of the French Quarter was quietly thrilling: tourists mingling with locals, artists of all types filling the streets by day, and jazz and blues ruling the night.

  Mr. Swartz escorted Tom, Mandy, and me into court for the custody hearing. He presented the evidenc
e to the judge, showing her photos of the condo and Piper’s bedroom. He detailed our finances so she could confirm we had the ability to take care of Piper. When he finished he asked the judge if she had any questions.

  She looked directly at me. “Ms. Lee, the court has your entire record before it. You have indeed had some brushes with death. At first, I was concerned about the safety of Constance in your custody. Then I realized you and I have a great deal in common. You did not seek out the troubles that came into your life. They found you. You chose to help people and protect them from evil. I do much the same every day, and my job may be even more dangerous than yours. I get death threats on a regular basis, but that doesn’t stop me from doing what’s right, nor should it stop you. Evil will always find good people, and good people must always fight it. That’s the way the world is made. You are hereby awarded the permanent care, custody, and control of Constance Sanders. A judgment will be signed accordingly. Court is adjourned.”

  We went to Brennan’s Restaurant to celebrate and asked Mr. Swartz and Mr. Clark to join us, but their schedules wouldn’t allow it. I really think Swartz was scared to go anywhere with us. He’d seen us weather some rough waters, and he didn’t seem the type to appreciate adventure. I wasn’t so sure about Joshua Clark, who appeared more adventurous. One of the beautiful perks of living in the French Quarter was the fine restaurants were within walking distance of our new home, like Brennan’s on Royal Street. After we ate, we took a carriage ride around the Quarter.