"And maybe Ray has been right all along. Maybe he's been following us." Raif looked at her face. "Pack," he said. "We're going home right now."
Raif chartered a flight directly to the small air strip in Eau Boueuse. He called Ray in flight and told him what had happened. He also said, "Don't take Kyle to New Orleans yet. Y'all wait at my house. He needs to face Neely, and I have a stop to make before I take one more trip."
Ray contacted Parker and let him know the details about what had happened. At the Eau Boueuse Police Department, Parker sat with Gigi Cockerill and gave her a sketchy story about the recent goings-on. "You can report that a witness who can identify Lloyd and connect him to the rape-murders in New Orleans has come forward."
"Who is this witness?"
"I really can't tell you that for his safety."
"Where is he now?"
"In protective custody. That's all for now."
Gigi walked behind Parker and rubbed his neck. She said seductively, "Parker, you're stressed to the breaking point. How have you been relaxing while your family has been away?"
Parker stood and turned around. He took Gigi's hands firmly in his. "Prayer and meditation. Please, don't do that. It makes me uncomfortable. I've already told you that."
"I can think of a better way for both of us to relieve stress." Gigi looked Parker enticingly up and down.
"No, thank you," said Parker.
"Why? Chicken? Afraid the little woman will know you noticed another woman?"
"It takes a lot more courage to be faithful to the woman I love than to give in to a momentary temptation. I think you have your story for now. You need to go."
"Courage to be faithful?" asked Gigi.
"Yes. It would be much easier to cheat and lie."
"I don't understand."
"A coward can't keep a commitment. I am no coward. Good night, Gigi."
Since Gigi Cockerill seemed to want to stay, Parker left. He called his father in his car. "Daddy, what's the plan?"
Ray could hear the stress in Parker's voice. "Did the siren attack again?"
"That woman is a barracuda. You owe me."
"I'll repay you somehow. Hopefully, it's almost over. We all need to meet at Raif's house. He wants Kyle to face Neely, and he has something on his mind. He sounds like a person I've never met. I feel as if I'm talking to myself. I don't think that's my brother anymore."
Raif and Neely walked into an expectant crowd, none more anxious than Kyle LaFontaine. When Neely walked into the room, their eyes met. He could not break his gaze.
Neely said softly, "Everybody, leave us." She held Raif's hand firmly. "Not you. I need you to stay."
Everyone except Neely, Raif, and Kyle left the room. Still, Kyle was transfixed by Neely's face. She let go of Raif's hand and walked to the boy who sat at the end of the sofa. She sat beside him. She looked at his angelic face and wondered, is this really the same face I saw a year and half ago?
Neely said softly, "We never officially met. I'm Neely Rivers Gautier. I understand you're Kyle LaFontaine." Kyle dropped his eyes to the floor.
"Kyle, look at me," she ordered.
"I can't. I'm too ashamed. I'm so sorry." The boy started to cry.
"Look. At. Me," Neely said assertively. "You had no trouble looking at me once. You can look at me now."
Kyle raised his eyes to Neely's. "All right," she said. "Now, Kyle, tell me what you did."
"Do I have to say it all again? I just want to throw up."
"So, throw up, but I want to hear you say it."
Kyle complied. "I came into your shop with four other guys. Lloyd paid us to beat you up and rape you. I was supposed to kill you. We told you we wanted 'MOM' tattoos, and you asked to see cash up front and I.D. You asked if we had any particular style in mind. I told you yes and grabbed your wrist. When you started to scream, I hit you. While some of the others locked the door and turned off your lights, I dragged you behind the counter with the help of one of the others. You fought hard; we kept hitting you. I'm the one who tore off your clothes. I was first. We all raped you. We kicked you and I started to strangle you, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill you. I guess you passed out. We ransacked your shop and left. I'm so sorry."
Neely said, "Kyle, what do you want me to do?"
"Forgive me, but do whatever you need to do. I deserve to go away forever."
"Yes, you do." She stood and walked to the window to stare out at the darkness. "Part of me wants to let you rot in jail. You know, for what you did, you most likely would be tried as an adult. You would be somebody's play thing for a long time."
The boy gasped. "No. Not that. No."
She turned back from the window and stared at him. "Kyle, do you believe in Jesus?"
With a look of utter confoundedness Kyle asked, "What?"
Neely repeated her question.
"I used to when I was a little boy," Kyle said.
"Do you remember what He said about the people who crucified him?"
Kyle shook his head.
Neely said, "He asked God to forgive them because they didn't know what they were doing."
"They didn't deserve to be forgiven."
"None of us do, Kyle. Have you asked Him to forgive you?"
"Why would He?"
"Because He said He would if we ask. You need to seek His forgiveness before mine. But, Kyle, an evil man used you. He manipulated an angry, sad, lonely little boy into doing a wicked thing. However, you're still responsible for your own actions." She took a deep breath.
"I've thought about this all the way from Hawaii. This is my proposal for you: If you'll help put this evil man away, and if you'll go into intense counseling, I'll hold off on testifying against you. You do realize that there is no statute of limitations on forcible rape in Louisiana?'
He shook his head, eyes filled with fear.
Neely nodded. "I also want you to give up the names of the other members of the gang. Some of them are over eighteen. I'm sure Lloyd used some form of coercion on the kids, but, Kyle, one of the older ones came to Hawaii to do something else to me—the one that did that last thing to me. I know you remember it."
He blurted, "I tried to stop him."
"I know you did. That's why I'm offering you this one chance."
"Are you serious?" His pale blue eyes stretched wide in amazement. "You won't testify against me?"
"Yes. Kyle, there's nothing I can do if the state still charges you, except refuse to testify. I think if you help them, they'll cut you a lot of slack. We're talking about a cop killer." She took another steadying breath. "Kyle, I can't remember any of their faces but yours. I didn't recognize the guy's face in Hawaii, but his voice. I know that if I don't testify against you, I can't testify against them either. It's up to you to help me now. Help me put these evil people away. Please?"
"Of course, I'll do it. I'll do whatever you ask. Mrs. Gautier, may I ask something else of you?"
"What?" she said with a scowl on her face.
"You're a tattoo artist." Kyle pulled off his shirt. "Do you know how to get this evil thing off me?"
"I do."
"Will you take it off?"
"It'll hurt."
"I don't care. I want it gone."
She rubbed her hand across her lips. "Yes, Kyle, I'll help you."
Raif stared at his wife in amazement as he asked, "Are you and Larkin two sides of the same coin?"
"Why?" She looked up at him as he stood behind her.
"I heard what you proposed to Kyle. I know what Larkin forgave Dupree and me."
"Maybe we are. Maybe I'm your side of the coin while Larkin is Ray's side of the coin."
Raif nodded. "Well, baby, I have another trip."
"Where to?"
"The Czech Republic."
"Not without me."
"Then, get your passport while I visit Colleen."
"What for?"
"To ferret out cowardice. Don't ask too many questions."
20
One of Their Own
When Raif returned from a visit with Colleen, Neely had packed lightly for both of them. Everyone else had returned to the living room.
Raif said, "Ray, give me your badge and I.D."
"What?" Ray asked, shocked by his brother's request. "Where are you going?"
"The Czech Republic. Give me." He held out his hand.
"Raif, impersonating a police officer is a felony."
"So, arrest me!" Raif snapped. "But give me your stuff anyway. It's not as if we've never done this before. The first time it was your idea."
"What are you up to?"
"I'm going to see Edyta Descartes. She's a lying old faker, and I know it."
Ray handed Raif his badge and wallet. "Good luck. Do you need a weapon?"
"No, I have the weapon I need in my pocket." He touched his chest and felt the object inside his interior coat pocket and then gave his twin his wallet.
"Need my passport too?" Ray smirked.
"Won't hurt."
"Go by my house. Top bureau drawer."
"Okay. Just pray." Raif took Neely's hand. "Come on, baby."
"Just a second."
Neely went to Kyle and Deanna. "Kyle," she said, "do you normally have your father's curly hair?"
"Yes, ma'am." He still stared at the floor, unwilling to make eye contact.
"This is the last time I'm going to tell you to look at me," Neely said through barely open teeth.
Kyle's head popped up. "It's just that I'm not my father."
"I realize that." She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "But your father was handsome. Let your hair grow back, long. Go for the surfer look, even highlights. It suits you better. When I get back, we'll exorcise the demon."
"Thank you. Chief Reynolds already called the New Orleans Police. Saul's taking me there after you leave. I'm gonna tell them everything I know and give a description to a sketch artist."
"That's good. Kyle, look around this room. There are a few of us missing because they're in different parts of the country. We've all been put together somehow by the evil of Latrice Descartes. I'm glad I never personally knew her, but her evil has extended twenty years to affect me. And you. Kyle, you're one of us. Get used to it."
"I've never really felt I belonged anywhere."
Deanna touched her son's prickly scalp. He looked at her. "Not your fault, Mom."
Shaking her head, Neely went on. "We're a strange lot, but you're destined to be a part of us. I expect to see a great deal of you."
Neely took Raif's hand and they walked out the door.
Saul Blackwell escorted his stepson into the federal courthouse in New Orleans. Kyle turned frightened eyes to the man. "You sure Mom should stay home?"
"I'll be with you every step of the way, Kyle. I promise to take care of you." Saul reached out to touch the boy, but Kyle flinched away.
Saul sighed. "I'd like to be a father to you, if you'll give me the chance."
"It's not you," Kyle barely mumbled. "Sorry. I'm really scared."
As they spoke, a bottled-blonde stepped to the reception desk. "May I help you?"
"Saul Blackwell to see Montel Desmond. I spoke with him on the phone a few hours ago."
The woman placed a headset over her garish hair and pushed a button on a panel in front of her. "Mr. Blackwell to see you."
A moment of silence passed before the woman pushed another button and the door to the side buzzed. She gave a nod. "Room three-thirteen. He said he's been waiting."
Saul and Kyle passed through a second metal detector after the one at the front door, took the elevator to the third floor, and found the appropriate office. Saul knocked and received, "Come in."
The two stepped through the door to find three people waiting. A tall, plump black man stood and extended his hand. "Montel Desmond."
Saul shook the man's hand before Desmond extended his hand to Kyle. With trepidation, Kyle shook hands.
Desmond turned to the other two people in the room. "Let me introduce LaKeisha Rollins, a juvenile advocate that I asked to represent you, Kyle."
The light-skinned woman smiled, stood, and shook hands with both Saul and her client.
Desmond went on as he indicated a stout older white man with a blue-gray ring of hair from ear to ear, "This is Senior Agent Ed Pickering with the FBI. Kyle, I understand that you're coming forward to offer testimony that might help us catch a person who has killed several law enforcement agents and, apparently, orchestrated, or at least helped to orchestrate, several heinous crimes here in New Orleans."
"Yes, sir." The boy's voice shook when he spoke.
Desmond indicated two more chairs. "Please sit down."
Kyle and Saul took the two offered chairs. Desmond pulled out a half-dollar-size disc recorder. "I have to record this."
Kyle nodded.
Desmond pressed a button and then said, "Kyle LaFontaine, I must inform you that you are now under arrest for the rape and attempted murder of Neely Rivers."
Kyle clutched Saul's arm. "I thought…"
Rollins said, "This is a formality, Kyle. Mr. Blackwell has told Mr. Desmond that Miss Rivers does not want to testify against you if you cooperate with authorities, but the charge must be brought and the deal officially made." She gave him another warm smile. "I am here to protect your interests. I won't let you incriminate yourself, if you decide this is not what you want to do."
"I promised Mrs. Gautier."
"Who?" Pickering asked.
Saul cleared his throat. "Miss Rivers has since married Raiford Gautier."
"Ah." Pickering gave an understanding nod. "I have a couple of my agents tailing his son for Reynolds."
Desmond went on to read Kyle his rights and asked if he understood them. Kyle said that he did and looked at Saul for encouragement. His stepfather nodded.
"I have been authorized to offer you immunity from prosecution," Desmond droned, "if you, indeed, have sufficient information to help convict the person you say you know about. There are stipulations. One—you will testify. Two—you will undergo intensive counseling. Three—you will give any and all names of anyone you know to be involved in this rash of brutal crimes. Four—until the age of twenty-one, you will meet weekly with an unofficial probation officer. If you miss a meeting without due consent from the officer, you will be taken into custody. You do understand that Miss…Mrs. Gautier could at any time change her mind and file rape charges on you?"
"Yes, sir. I know."
"Do you agree to the terms I've set forth?"
"Yes, sir. I do have a question."
"What is it?"
"I don't live in New Orleans. Where will this probation officer be?"
"We'll find you one in Baton Rouge. And if you go off to college, other arrangements might be made. That might be 'due consent.'"
"I understand. But there will be no criminal record on me?"
"No. And after you turn twenty-one, even this amount of legal proceedings can be expunged."
"And I won't be a registered sex offender?"
Rollins said, "You sound as if you don't believe us."
Kyle barely whispered, "I'm having a hard time believing I won't go to prison and be somebody's bitch for the next ten years."
Saul laid a hand on the boy's arm.
Desmond said, "This is the only chance you'll get to stay out of jail. Lie, and all deals are off the table."
"I'll take it," Kyle hastened to say.
With a nod, Desmond said, "Then tell us your story."
Kyle repeated his tale again and after being fingerprinted and having a mug shot done, he left with Saul.
A nurse escorted Raif and Neely into a dull room where an old lady sat staring out its single window though Raif had to wonder what she could see through the grime on the glass. Touching the old woman on the shoulder, she said, "Ms. Edyta, you have visitors from America again."
Edyta Descartes turned dead eyes toward the couple.
Raif sat d
own in front of the old lady. He looked her in the eye. "Mrs. Descartes, do you know who I am?"
The old lady did not answer.
"It really doesn't matter whether you speak to me or not." Raif smirked. "You see, I know you're faking it. I'm not Parker Reynolds. I don't have the compassion or gullibility he has."
Raif reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a voodoo doll.
Neely gasped. "How did you get that through airport security?"
"I laid it with my badge." He had not told her what he had seen Colleen about. He continued to talk to Edyta. "Do you know what this is or who this is? Well, it's you. Parker's visit here did give me some of your hair. He was nice enough to actually kiss you good-bye. I had a bon-a-fide voodoo priestess make this for me. I'm dying to see if it works. You believe in the power of voodoo, so let's see. I don't want you to die. I just want you to talk." Raif held the pin above the doll. "Where would be the best place to stick you—the mouth?"
Edyta Descartes growled, "I told Latrice not to use you. She didn't listen, and now she ees dead."
"Who do you think I am?"
The old woman laughed wickedly, sounding much like a Hollywood witch. "You are not Raiford Reynolds alzough you are pretending to be. You are zee vun she could not control. Your spirit vas too strong. Eet still ees. And you"—She looked at Neely—"I told Lloyd not to harm zee rose tattoo. He vill pay zee price, too."
"Where is Lloyd?" asked Raif.
"I do not know, Mr. Gautier. I have not seen my grandson een years. Believe eet or not, I really did try to help zat sweet Parker. I gave him hints, but I don't zink he understood zem. I told him zey took Lloyd avay from me vhen zey deported me. I zought for sure he vould track him down."
"He did, without a trace of him." Raif rolled his lips together. "When was the last time Lloyd came to see you?"
"Vhen he decided to go to Louisiana. He should have stayed een New York. He probably had a better life vizout Latrice zan he vould have had vif her."
"Who was his father?"
"I do not know. He vas conceived during a ritual. It could have been any number of men."
"Do you know if he was adopted by a family in New York?"
Broken (The Raiford Chronicles #3 Book 1) Page 15
