Deadline

by Judy McDonough

Caroline awoke to Cade caressing her face with the back of his hand.

  "Hey, sweet girl. How are you feeling?"

  Her mouth was incredibly dry, Caroline's tongue stuck to her palate. She managed to form a single word. "Parched." She licked her lips, but, with her tongue so dry, she may as well have rubbed cotton on them.

  Cade smiled and handed her a glass of ice cold water. She gulped it down and handed it back to him. He went to the dressing table and refilled the glass from a pitcher. "Man, you came prepared. Was I catching flies or something?"

  He chuckled. "No, your mouth was closed."

  He sat back on the bed beside her. "You were dreaming again, weren't you?"

  "Yes, how'd you know that?"

  "You were talking in your sleep. You said Rachel's name a few times and 'Baby Joseph' once or twice. Just before you woke up you hummed what sounded like a lullaby."

  Caroline was embarrassed. Singing had never been her strong suit. The only way anyone would ever hear her sing is if they overheard her in the shower. "Me. . .singing. I hope you listened carefully 'cause that's the last time you'll ever hear that again."

  He smiled. "You have a lovely voice. I don't know why you don't realize that. So what was your dream about this time?"

  "Oh, Cade, it was so sad. I was in Rachel's room as a spectator this time, watching her stress over something to wear. I saw her rubbing her pregnant belly, and assumed it was Joseph, the baby she had with Jackson, my G3 grandfather. Then I heard a baby crying, and a lady brought him to her so she could feed him. I heard her talking to herself about being pregnant while she nursed him. She'd been raped, and the baby was the result. Cade, she was pregnant when she died and nobody knew."

  "Who raped her? Whose baby was it?"

  "I'm not certain, but I have a good idea. I saw a picture of a man in the old albums my dad showed me. He had his left hand bandaged just like the creep that's been chasing Rachel in all my dreams. I think it was a man named George Callahan."

  Cade abruptly stood up. "Callahan? Like. . .Trevor Callahan?"

  "Yeah, I thought the same thing at first. But it's just a coincidence. Trevor's family is from New York, not Louisiana."

  Unconvinced, Cade didn't press the issue. "Are you hungry? Do you want me to bring you something to eat?"

  "You know, I feel like I've been in this bed forever. I would really love to get up and walk. Would you help me walk downstairs so I can sit at a real table and eat?" She was glad her doctor had sent a nurse this morning to remove that disgusting catheter, or there was no way she'd be able to do this. How embarrassing.

  "I think that's a great idea. Let's get you up and moving."

  They took the stairs with caution, Cade holding on to her tightly. Despite her shaky legs, it felt good to walk around and get the blood flowing. And she didn't get dizzy once. They ate lunch while Delia and Delphine entertained them with their quick wit and humor.

  Cade helped her back up to her room and settled comfortably in bed. "If you're feeling up to it," he said, "I would like to take you out this weekend. Are you interested?"

  "Out? You mean, out of this house? Into civilization? Are you kidding me? I'm very interested. Let's do it! Do you think the doctor will allow it?"

  "Well, he said to keep you in bed for at least a week and then slowly get you up and moving. It's only Tuesday, so you have all week. I think as long as you felt up to it, he probably wouldn't mind. I want to take you up to New Orleans and show you around the French Quarter."

  Caroline hardly contained her excitement. "New Orleans! I've never been there. Do we have to wait until the weekend?"

  Cade laughed. "Yes, ma'am. I don't want to rush your recovery and cause you to have another accident. This will just give you something to look forward to." Cade leaned in and kissed her cheek. "I've gotta run. I'll see you later, beautiful."

  When he closed the door, Caroline eagerly pulled the journal out from under the covers. What did Rachel have to say from the grave? She gently traced her finger along the scroll design on the front of the leather journal and carefully opened it to the first page to Rachel's perfect script.

  These are the personal thoughts

  of

  Rachel Caroline Fontenot

  Beginning in June of the year 1885

  Caroline's hands shook as she carefully turned the page, stepping back in time. The first page must have been written when Rachel and Jackson had gotten home from their honeymoon. She began this journal right after she got married, and there were several entries from different days, or possibly weeks, on one page.

  Today was a glorious day. My dashing new husband and I enjoyed our honeymoon cavorting around the French Quarter in New Orleans. It is a dreadfully grand city. I shall greatly enjoy hearing my new name.

  I had an encounter with Jackson's business partner, George Callahan, today. He is a considerably rugged fellow. He fancies me even as a married woman. His temper is quick, and often he appears to be terribly angry. He is quite mysterious and dark. It concerns me, but I will not speak of this to Jackson as they are friends.

  Mr. Callahan approached me today. He is appallingly jealous of my relationship with Jackson. I'm afraid he is capable of more than I realized. I shall strongly attempt to avoid him from this time further.

  Clearly, George made no attempt of keeping his feelings secret from Rachel. Had Jackson known how George felt about his wife? In one of her dreams Caroline had overheard an argument between Rachel and Jackson after her assault. He seemed to know who she spoke about and Jackson wanted to kill him. Had Jackson ever confronted George about raping his wife? If that had been Trevor, he would have already committed murder in the first. Caroline turned the page and continued reading.

  Today was a blessed day. I cannot be certain, but I believe I am with child. I have been ill and quite dragged out. My clothing is snug, and, at times, I instinctively touch my abdomen as if to comfort my unborn child. God has truly smiled upon us.

  I felt beautiful today at church as several people congratulated Jackson and me on our upcoming child. I happily allowed the children in my class to feel the baby move. I am eager to meet the little angel within me.

  Mr. Callahan came to the house today. I assumed he was meeting with Jackson. As I walked past them, I could feel his eyes on me. It made me feel frightfully uncomfortable. I spoke to him regarding his ill father, Peter. He seemed distraught and told me his father's health is dwindling because of the pneumonia. I felt sad for him and requested he send my well-wishes to his father.

  I finally met the perfectly handsome little boy that occupied my womb for so long. Joseph Beauregard Fontenot was born on the 9th day of February in the year of 1886. He is perfect in every way imaginable. I never knew love until I gazed into the precious eyes of my son.

  Caroline smiled as the desire to have a family fluttered in her chest. She hated that Trevor only wanted one child but still hoped he would someday change his mind. Maybe after he held their first child in his arms and looked into the baby's eyes, he'd decide it was worth having more children.

  It's been some time since I've written last. Joseph has been keeping me busy, and I have enjoyed watching him grow and develop. He is three months old now and eats frequently. I greatly appreciate the help I receive from Ms. Marianne. She has allowed me to rest and has taught me a great deal about babies. She is truly a blessing.

  Today was a horrible, wretched day. I decided to take a walk and breathe the fresh springtime air. I was unexpectedly approached by Mr. Callahan. He tried to kiss me, so I struck his face and ran away from him. This angered him, and he chased me into the woods. He violated me beyond words. He ripped the garments from my body, and I experienced the worst pain of my life as he forced himself upon me against my will.

  He did to me what only a husband should do to his wife. I am severely distraught and afraid for my life and that of my family. I'm not certain what he was talking about, but he mentioned something of Jackson and Jefferson double-crossing
him. I pray for the safety of my loved ones.

  Caroline tried to imagine what that must have been like for Rachel. Having such a traumatic thing happen and not being able to tell anyone about it, then finding out she was pregnant as a result. Caroline's first dream only led her through the prelude of the crime, she never saw the climax. What she did see was intense, and to truly understand was to experience the trauma herself. That, Caroline prayed, would never happen.

  She flipped to the back of the journal to see if Rachel had been able to scribble anything in her rush to hide it before she died. The last written page was in the middle of the journal, signifying a precious life cut short—too short. Caroline's eyes filled with tears as she read the emotional last words of her great, great, great grandmother.

  This will be my last entry. George Callahan has drugged and captured me and informed me of his immediate intentions to end my life. He said people will believe my death was by my own hands. But this is my final testament. I love my husband, son, and unborn child too much to take my own life. He doesn't realize it, but he will be taking the life of his own flesh and blood that has yet to walk upon this Earth. I pray that God protect my family and have mercy on his soul.

  George Callahan is a cold-blooded murderer.

  Thirty-Four