"I still feel bad that I got in that truck and didn't stay to help that man." Tyler took a deep breath and said something to the judge.
I sat still, my hands shaking because I was trying to forget about the time I rode in the back of Keith's truck with Warren and a bunch of people, and Tucker roped a black teenager and Keith dragged the poor boy behind the truck until he looked like ground meat. I’d sat on the railing of that truck and watched as though it were a movie, not real life. Listening to Daniel Tyler talk about the incident he witnessed, I felt a sheet of shame cover me. I wanted to hide… from myself. In that instant, I hated Warren for subjecting me to such evil. And I hated myself as much.
I didn't hear the rest of Tyler's testimony. I spaced out until the judge called for a recess.
*
That afternoon, one witness after another testified to seeing Keith Rousseau and Tucker Thevenot in the blue truck in front of the Church.
The neighbor across the street from the Church sat on her front porch because she heard a black man and white woman were getting married and she wanted to see the couple when they came out. She told how the blue truck pulled up in front of the rectory at about ten minutes before one o'clock and waited.
"The truck was idling," she said as she rocked back and forth in the witness chair. "I could tell because there was smoke coming out the tailpipe." She said she could see the driver clearly and would be able to identify him because the truck was parked facing town. "I could see the other guy, too. He looked shaggy and blondish." She said the couple came out of the church at ten after one. "The man sitting shotgun stuck something out of his window, and I heard two shots. Then the truck took off, and I looked up at the couple, and I couldn't see them no more. Some people made a circle and crowded around something on the concrete porch on the front of the Church. Pretty soon the ambulances and police and firemen all came."
A man who lived next door to the rectory said he saw the blue truck and he could identify Tucker Thevenot, "Clear as day. They drove slow in front of my house, and his window was down, and he had his arm resting in the opened window. I stood on my porch so I could see what was happening because it seemed awful strange, an old truck like that with two scraggly looking fellers, parked outside the Church when there was a big wedding going on inside.
"That man right there," Mr. Tim Laborde pointed at Thevenot. "He sticks his other arm out the window, and I hear two shots. Then the truck peels out on the blacktop road and heads towards town."
"Are you sure you saw this man, the defendant, Mr. Thevenot?" Luke seemed amazed at Laborde's testimony.
"Yes, sir. I never seed nothing like it before. I'll never forget it."
Perkins crossed examined Mr. Laborde with questions meant to trick him into saying that maybe it wasn't Thevenot, maybe a green truck, maybe not June 30; but Mr. Laborde stood his ground, and by four o'clock evidence against Thevenot was mounting.
Luke did not redirect; there was no need.
*
The last witness of the day was the man who called himself the maintenance person at the church. He said he kept up the grounds, including the cemetery and the priest's house, that he fixed things when they broke and he cleaned up after weddings and funerals and the like. His name was Everett McCann, and he said he'd been working for the church since he was an altar boy. "It's the only job I ever had," he told Luke.
"Where were you on June 30 at about one o'clock in the afternoon?" Luke had one leg bent, and his right hip cocked out a little. He leaned on the podium for support.
"I was at the church, of course." Mr. McCann was short and squatty with a little hump in his shoulders that made him bend forward a bit. He had a straw hat in his lap that he'd taken off when he entered the courtroom, and his head was completely bald. "We had a big wedding that day, the ex-senator's daughter. And he's a member of St. Alphonse's. He gives generous donations to the church, so we wanted to make sure everything went off perfect."
"Where exactly were you standing when the couple came out of the church, and what did you see?"
"I stood on the side of the front steps so I could go in the church as soon as everyone came out. I saw an old blue truck. It stopped in front of the rectory. I watched it for about ten minutes or so and waited for it to leave. When it didn't, I started to walk towards it, so I could tell the driver to move on. Just then, the church bells started ringing, which meant the wedding was over. The truck moved forward about fifty yards and stopped in front of the church. I saw that man sitting in the passenger seat." McCann pointed at Tucker Thevenot. "Just as I came up on the truck from behind, he stuck something out the window. I heard two shots; actually they sounded like firecrackers, then the truck took off. I turned and looked at the front of the church, and there was people coming out and rushing to where the newly married couple should have been. I ran over there and saw the bride and groom on the concrete slab that spans the front of the church. They were bleeding."
Perkins got up to cross-examine McCann. He looked as tired as Luke.
"Mr. McCann, you said that you came up on the truck from behind, right?"
"Yes, sir. They didn't see me coming, I don't imagine." McCann nodded and ran his hand over his bald head.
"If you approached from the back of the truck, how are you so sure the person who shot the gun was my client, Mr. Thevenot?"
"Oh, I saw him for ten or fifteen minutes sitting there in that truck, parked in front of the rectory. I watched and saw him real clear. I didn't start to walk over to the truck to tell them to leave ’til the church bells rang. I should have gone sooner."
"How did it happen that you could see him so clearly, but the truck was in front of where you were standing?" Perkins was trying to disqualify the witness, but Mr. McCann didn't seem the type to make things up.
"Oh, no sir, you don't understand. They was parked directly in front of me, then when the church bells rang out, they pulled up from the rectory about fifty feet to in front of the church, so that's when they got in front of me. For ten or so minutes, I stared at the two of them. I could identify the driver, too, if he was here. But I don't see him in the courtroom."
"I tender this witness, Your Honor." Perkins went to his seat and slid down in his chair as though he'd been beaten at his own game.
"Redirect, Mr. McMath?"
"No, Your Honor." Luke stood up behind his table, then sat back down. He, too, slid down in his chair.
The judge dismissed Mr. McCann then adjourned for the day. "We'll start at nine in the morning rather than eight. See you then."
*
Luke was the last one in the courtroom and didn't see me behind the prosecution's table, sitting on the bench in the corner.
"Luke?" I spoke softly, and he jumped, as though he'd heard a ghost. He turned around holding his briefcase, and was about to walk towards the door.
"Sissy?" He looked at me with an expression of utter amazement. "What are you doing here?"
"Waiting to talk to you." I didn't move. Had he turned and walked out, I wouldn't have tried to stop him.
"I'm really beat." He let both his arms fall by his sides, one holding the briefcase.
"I know." I stood up and took a couple of steps towards the railing that separated us. "Could we have a drink? You look like you could use one." He looked at his shoes, then back at me. His eyes said that he still cared about me, but he was trying to move on. I still didn't know what I'd done to run him off. Just when I thought our relationship was going somewhere, he’d walked out. Go figure.
"Sissy, this is a bad week." He looked so tired I wanted to back off and leave him alone, but I needed to know why he had walked out on me so abruptly.
"I just want to know why." I could hear him breathe, in and out, but there was that damn fence between us, so I couldn't put my arms around him like I wanted to.
"I'm surprised you don't know the answer to that question." He looked down at me from his towering height to my fiv
e-foot-two frame, taller because of my two-inch heels.
"I don't. Help me understand."
"It's simple. I love you, and you don't love me." He turned and walked out of the courtroom, and I stood glued to the floor, like a dummy, trying to understand what he'd just said. I heard him run down the stairs, as though he couldn't get away fast enough, but I couldn't move from my spot to go after him.
All night I thought about his words: "I love you, and you don't love me." What did that mean? The next morning I was at Susie's kitchen table at seven o'clock, dressed and ready for court. I'd made a pot of coffee, and she came into the kitchen at about seven ten. She saw me sitting there, poured herself a cup, and sat down next to me.
"Spill it, Sissy. What's wrong?" She bent forward so she could look me in the eye. Her face was very close to mine, and I wanted to hug her. I thought about all she'd been through, what she was still going through, and I felt selfish for dumping my problem on her.
"Luke walked out on me last week." I was determined not to cry and ruin my mascara, so I spoke as though I were detached from my own feelings. "He just left and refused to see me. Yesterday, after court, I waited for him and asked him, why. He said, 'Because I love you and you don't love me.' What does that mean?"
"Do you?" She squeezed my hand, which made me lift my eyes to hers. "Do you love him?"
"How would I know?" I'd never been in love. I had no idea how love felt.
"You just know." She let go of my hand and took a sip of her coffee. "Sometimes it happens immediately. Sometimes it grows over time. But you know that you're in love with a man if you are miserable without him, if you think about him all the time, and if you feel as though your life would be destroyed if he fell for another girl. I mean, Sissy, you just know."
"Oh, God, Susie." I put my hands on my cheeks because I could feel the heat rise from my neck. "If I thought he was with someone else, it would kill me. And I do think about him all the time. I'm happiest when I'm with him and miserable when I'm not."
"You need to tell him that." She patted my hand and smiled at me. "Now that he's confessed that he loves you, the next move is yours. But you have to be honest. None of that, give me time stuff. Just go for it, or you'll lose him."
I went back to my garage apartment and gathered my purse and car keys. All the way downtown, I thought about what Susie said.
Chapter Fifteen
***
Victims
THE FIRST WITNESSES Wednesday morning were the three cops who had been at the scene.
The first one on the stand was Mike Richard who said that he never thought the shooting was a crime because it was just a black boy who'd been shot. He said, "Now, if that white girl had got shot, we'd probably had to file a police report." Even the jury saw the fallacy in his testimony.
Grady Baudin was the second cop called. He said that he had talked to some of the folks who'd attended the wedding and, "No one saw nothing. You can't put, 'nothing,' in a police report."
The most surprising witness was Joey LeBlanc. He testified that he was the third cop to arrive at the church and that he saw the two people lying on the concrete bleeding. He said by the time he got there, the paramedics were putting them on stretchers. "I saw a lot of blood, but it looked to me like they fell and busted their heads. I couldn't see no crime." Then he laughed a coarse, wet laugh.
The judge called for a short recess, and I tore out of the courtroom looking for Joey. When I didn't find him in the hall, I headed down the stairs, out of the courthouse. He was standing near a city police car, smoking and talking to the other two cops who'd testified. I recognized them as having been at the scene, but I was sure Joey had not been there. In fact, I remembered that the third cop was Dennis Smith, a redheaded guy who'd been one year behind me in high school. I wondered why he hadn't testified and how Joey could have replaced Dennis. Was that legal?
"Hey, Joey, got a sec?" I walked towards the car, and all three cops looked at me with shocked expressions. Joey took a step backwards, as though he was afraid of me. I almost burst out laughing, but instead, I walked right up to him and slapped him across the face, then, for good measure, I slapped him again. I'll admit my palm burned like I'd set it on my stove's electric burner, but I didn't let on. The shocked look on his face was worth any amount of pain.
He reared back his fist and was about to slug me, but Grady caught his arm. "Hey, man! There are witnesses all over the place. Careful."
"You think I care about witnesses? I'm a cop, and she just slapped me. That's a crime—hitting an officer of the law." He reached back and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt loop and attempted to place them on me, saying, "You are under arrest."
"Just try that, Joey LeBlanc." My words were sharp, and my voice loud, which stopped him for a nanosecond. "I'll turn you in to the attorney general for assault, rape, and perjury. Did you truly think you could get away with testifying that you were at the church when you were never there? Where's Dennis? Did he pay you to take his place because he's a decent guy and would admit that someone should have filed a police report?"
"What the hell?" He waved the handcuffs in the air.
"I'm not done with you." I turned around and ran up the steps into the courthouse as fast as a bunny skipping across my backyard. I dared him to try to put his hands or his cuffs on me inside the courthouse.
*
When I got to the courtroom, it was half empty. I went right through that swinging gate and up to the prosecution's table. Luke was standing up, bent over a legal pad that was on the table. I tapped him on the back.
"I need to talk to you."
"Not now Sissy."
"Yes, now!" I motioned with my finger for him to follow me out of the courtroom to Judge DeYoung's office. Something about my determined walk must have told him he should follow me. I pressed the beige button on the wall beside the door to the judge's chambers and heard the click. When I opened the door, the judge was standing in front of his secretary's desk.
"Judge, I need to tell you something, and I want Mr. McMath to hear it, too. It's important." I stepped towards the opened door to his inner office, and the two men followed me. The judge shut the door, and we stood in a semicircle in front of his desk. "It's about Joey LeBlanc."
"The police officer who testified this morning?" DeYoung looked from me to Luke and back at me.
"Yes. First of all, he was not at the church. The third city cop was Dennis Smith. I'm sure of it. I saw all three of them clearly. I'm not sure why Joey testified. He was not there. Ever."
"Well, that's certainly unusual. I'll call the chief and tell him to pick LeBlanc up for questioning." The judge walked around his desk and sat in his chair. He picked up the phone and asked Lydia to get Winn Marchand on the phone.
"That's not all," I said when he hung up. Luke and I were standing in front of the judge's desk. "He was one of the two guys who assaulted me. I'm one hundred percent sure he's the one who raped me."
"Sissy, there's something you need to know," Luke took my elbow and guided me into one of the two chairs in front of the desk. "I haven't known how to tell you."
"Don't you dare keep anything from me, Lucas McMath." I could feel the warmth start on my neck begin to crawl up to my cheeks. I was so angry I could have spat.
"The semen samples gathered at the hospital." Luke sat down and took my hand. I pulled it away and crossed my arms over my chest. "There were two."
"Two what?"
"Two different sets of DNA."
"So both of those bastards raped me? I was only awake for the first one. The second creep must have raped me after I blacked out. Wait until I get my hands on that asshole." I stood up and started for the door.
"You know who the other guy was?" Luke stood up and tried to follow me, but I was already out of the judge's chambers and walking in front of Lydia's desk when he caught me by the arm and turned me around. "Do you?"
"Yes, and I'm going to find
him now." I could see the judge standing in his doorway as though he were watching a movie.
"Sissy." Judge DeYoung took a few steps towards us. "That's not a good idea. Give me his name, and I’ll have Marchand pick him up, too. Mr. McMath can question him."
"I have to do this, judge. I want to get in his face." I turned and walked out of the office, into the hall, and was down the stairs before Luke caught up with me.
"Let me go with you, Sissy." He was breathing hard; so was I. "It's too dangerous for you to go alone to confront an assailant. I can't imagine what he might do to you."
"Luke, you have to let me do this. I know how to take care of myself." I ran across the street, got in my car, and drove off. I knew Luke couldn't follow me. He had to get back to the courtroom before the recess was over.
*
I found Warren on Highway One. His red truck was parked next to a new Dodge Ram truck on the side of the highway that went from Jean Ville to Alexandria. An older man was standing behind something that looked like a camera on a tripod. Warren was across the road, holding something in the air. I pulled up on the shoulder in front of Warren and jumped out of my car.
My short legs never took such long strides, and in a few seconds, I was facing him. I pulled my elbow back as far as I could and threw my arm forward. My fist caught him under the chin, and he grabbed his face. His shocked expression made my bleeding knuckles tickle as I socked him again, this time catching the side of his eye. He grabbed me by the shoulders and started to shake me. I kicked him in the crotch, and he let go of me and grabbed himself.
The older man must have crossed the street because he had an arm around my waist and was pulling me off Warren. He lifted me in the air and started to back away.
"Let me go. I'm going to kill him." I was kicking my feet, which were off the ground.
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