by Sala, Sharon
“Yes sir, thank you,” he said and sat down.
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” LeGrande asked.
“Yes it is,” Brendan said.
“So you found your lady.”
Brendan nodded. “Thanks to you. It’s why I came. I had to thank you again, and Juliette asked me to thank you, as well. I don’t know if you are aware of how close we came to losing her, but another five minutes and the police would’ve been too late.”
The old man shook his head. “I heard the news. They found other bodies on the property, so the man was certainly a bad one.”
Brendan nodded. “Yes, and he has confessed to other murders.”
LeGrande gasped. “Indeed?”
“He has been killing women all across the country and no one had identified him as a serial killer. If you hadn’t been so diligent, things would be very different.”
LeGrande frowned as he shook his head. “I have lived too long, I think. This world has become a very ugly, very dangerous place to be.”
Brendan couldn’t argue. “Yes, sir, that it has.”
“Is Juliette going to heal?”
Brendan hesitated briefly. “With time.”
LeGrande turned until he was looking at Brendan face-to-face. “You won’t let it matter?”
“No sir. Never!”
“Then you have a good day,” LeGrande said. “And give your lady my best wishes.”
He’d been dismissed, and that was fine. He’d said all he came to say.
“Yes, sir, I will,” Brendan said, but LeGrande had already turned his gaze back to the wide expanse of water.
He wondered what it was that the old man saw, then let it go. Everyone had things they wanted to remember, and things they were trying to forget.
Chapter Fifteen
Grayson was on his way to the hospital when his phone rang. When he saw the sheriff’s number on caller ID, he quickly answered. Finally, he’d get some good news.
“Hello.”
“Mr. March, this is Sheriff Henry. I wonder if you could find time to drop by this morning. There are some things we need to discuss.”
“I can be there in ten minutes,” March said.
“Good. See you soon.”
March hit the brakes, taking the next right with a surge of righteous indignation. He assumed they were going to tell him Anson Poe was in custody. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
****
Grayson March leaped from his chair, slamming his hands on the sheriff’s desk in sudden anger. “What the hell do you mean my men were in the wrong? I told you exactly what was reported to me. There could be no other explanation for what happened out there and you know it. What the fuck! Are you one of the cops on his payroll?
Sheriff Henry’s face turned a dark, angry red as he eased up from his chair and leaned across his desk until he and March were practically nose-to-nose. He was so pissed he could hardly think for wanting to put a fist right in the middle of March’s face.
“Sit. Down.” Henry said shortly.
Grayson glared as he dropped back into his chair.
Henry delivered his words standing up. “This is my office, not yours. You do not speak to me in such a slanderous manner. I will, however, do you a favor and chalk it up to frustration and regret over the loss of two of your employees.”
Grayson was still reeling from the knowledge that Anson Poe wasn’t in jail.
Henry sat back down.
“Now, with regard to what our investigation has turned up, unless some witness unknown to us at this time comes forward, this is what’s going in the report. Do you want to hear it or not?”
“I’m listening.”
“Sometime after ten o’clock last night, Anson Poe said his neighbor, Voltaire LeDeux showed up at his house wanting to make a deal. We have since verified that bartering was the man’s only way of doing business. He was something of a hermit, having lived in the bayou all his life and it’s also been confirmed that everyone around seemed to know and accept his oddities. Poe said LeDeux needed a new pair of shoes and wanted to know if they could make a trade. Poe claims he gave Voltaire money and told him to bring him a bucket of crawfish once a week for a month and they’d be even. Shortly thereafter, LeDeux took his leave... in the dark... on foot... the same way he’d come in.”
“What does that have to do with—?”
Henry held up his hand. “I’m not finished. Now, without the verification of your guards to back this up, the rest has to be conjecture, because all interested parties are now deceased. But according to Poe, and everyone else we have interviewed since, LeDeux did not like strangers, did not allow people on his property he didn’t know, especially after dark. And even more important to the story, if he felt threatened, he would shoot first and ask questions later. So, enter your two men who are on stakeout. They see a man coming up the road from Wisteria Hill in the dark, and now this is where your statement plays into what happens next. You stated your men called you, said Poe was afoot, and had ducked into some trees along the road. Then you stated the men told you he came out of the trees farther up and started running.”
“Yes, I did, and that’s exactly what Carl Parker said.”
“The only problem is that it appears your men didn’t see Anson Poe. They saw Voltaire LeDeux, and I’m guessing the reason he was running was because he saw them too and got scared when he saw strangers parked up in the trees all secret-like. Since there wasn’t any moonlight to speak of last night, your men assumed they were following Poe just because he came away from Wisteria Hill. But they made the mistake of following another man who was trying to get home to safety. Without any witnesses to say otherwise, the facts show that those men shot and killed each other. Ballistic tests aren’t in yet, but I’ll know soon enough if it all matches up.”
“But how do you know it wasn’t Poe doing all of that to get back at me?” Grayson asked.
“I’m sorry, but he could hardly plan something like that since LeDeux’s appearance at Wisteria Hill was unexpected. Poe also stated your men have followed him to LeDeux’s location before, which backs up Poe’s claim of a neighborly relationship. He also denied having any kind of reason to walk to neighbor’s house in the dark when he could have driven, and he would never go at night because Voltaire would most likely shoot him.
“For the record, a good number of other people interviewed said the same thing about the man. They claimed he was distrustful of strangers and would not have willingly allowed anyone on his property after dark. So that’s how this situation has played out. Your men made a mistake. It got them killed, and it cost an innocent man his life.”
Grayson was stunned. He kept trying to find a way out of the tangled web of facts, but the only way out still implicated him and his men, and it hurt.
“I never told them to go onto anyone else’s property,” Grayson said.
Henry shrugged. “Yet they were there.”
“So what happens now?”
Henry’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Do you mean, what happens to you?”
Grayson didn’t respond.
Henry shrugged. “Legally, two of your employees went rogue and killed an innocent man. You’ll have to deal with the public fall-out, but there will be no charges filed against you, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Grayson felt numb. “Are we through here?”
“Unless something else comes to light,” Henry said, shuffling a file from one side of his desk to the other. When March walked out, he got up to refill his coffee cup.
Outside, the sun was still shining, and the gull that had been sitting on a light pole was still there as Grayson got back into his car. He took a few moments to gather his thoughts. He was numb from the shock, and he knew when the media got hold of this news, he would catch hell. Still, he had somewhere to be and headed back to the hospital, anxious to see Julie before the day got any older.
****
Brendan got off the hospital elev
ator with a sack in one hand and a stuffed teddy bear in the other. He trusted Mama Lou enough to deliver the medicine she’d made up for Julie and hoped he could talk her into trusting him enough to try it. He paused outside her door, wondering which parent he’d be facing, then pushed the door inward.
****
Julie had been alone for almost two hours. Her mother had gone home to clean up and get some rest. She hadn’t heard from her father, but it didn’t matter. Their presence exhausted her. She was emotionally numb, coping with too many distraught glances from them in her direction—too many questions that sounded more like accusations. She knew what it would take to make it stop, but she was not giving up her apartment and moving home, and she wasn’t dumping Brendan just to satisfy their social consciences.
Doctor Ames had made rounds while Lana was still here, but the news that Julie’s eyes had escaped injury and she would suffer no adverse effects to her sight didn’t seem to be all that newsworthy to Lana. All her mother seemed interested in knowing was if there would be scars. Once again, it sent the same message to Julie that her survival alone wasn’t enough.
She leaned back and closed her eyes, wishing she and Brendan could just get in a car and start driving. Destination didn’t matter. If they found a place that looked promising, they would stop. If not, there was always the open road and new possibilities.
In the back of her mind, she was honest enough to admit her daydream was no different from her mother’s need to pretend this never happened. They were both ignoring the bottom line. There was no way to go back to what was. What she had was a huge knot in her stomach. Would she ever feel normal again?
She was almost asleep when she heard a tapping at the window. She opened her eyes to a pigeon on the ledge outside the window. He was fluffing his feathers and flapping his wings, and every few seconds he would give the window a sharp peck. It took her a few moments to realize the bird had mistaken his own reflection for another bird and was trying to chase it away.
She was still watching when she heard a knock. She looked up as Brendan walked in, and waved him over.
“Brendan, you have to see this.” She pointed at the window, just as the pigeon did it again. “He thinks there’s another bird in his space and doesn’t realize he’s seeing his reflection.”
Brendan leaned down and kissed her. “Guys can be pretty dim sometimes, but not me. I come bearing gifts.” He handed her a chocolate-colored teddy bear with shiny black eyes.
“Oh, Brendan! I love him.”
“And I love you. So, I named him Merlin because he’s going to make magic for you. Any time you get scared or feel sad, just tell him your troubles and he’ll make them go away, like magic.”
Julie hugged the bear beneath her chin. “You, Brendan Poe, are the magic in my life, but thank you for always thinking of me.”
He smoothed the hair back away from her face and then set the sack on the table by her bed.
“There’s more.”
“Like what?” she asked.
“Mama Lou sent you something.”
Julie’s eyes widened. She leaned forward, whispering. “The voodoo Mama Lou?”
He nodded.
“Oh my God, I keep forgetting you two have a history. I don’t know whether to be nervous or impressed. So what did she send me?”
Brendan pulled the glass jar out of the sack. “It’s to put on your skin to make you heal faster.”
Julie eyed the pale amber liquid a little nervously. “The hospital personnel would have a fit if I use this.”
He sighed. “I know. I certainly can’t make you try it, but here’s the deal. Claudette said this is some secret concoction the slaves once used to heal themselves after they were whipped by their owners. The fact that Mama Lou is even sharing it is a big freaking deal, honey.”
Julie pointed. “Can I smell it?”
He unscrewed the lid and held it beneath her nose. “It doesn’t smell bad at all. Is it greasy?”
Brendan let a little bit drip into the palm of her hand. She rubbed it lightly across the lash marks on her forearm.
“It’s not greasy at all, in fact, it’s… Oh wow!”
“What?” Brendan asked, suddenly anxious.
Julie looked up. “It’s numbing. It’s taking away that hot, stinging sensation.”
She threw back the sheet and then held out her hand for more.
He poured a little more in the palm of her hand then watched as she rubbed it on both legs.
“Oh, this is wonderful,” Julie whispered. “It’s really numbing the pain.”
“What about putting it on the rest of you?” Brendan asked.
She untied the hospital gown and let it drop to her waist, unashamedly baring her body as she proceeded to rub it on every place a lash had struck. The last place she put it was on her cheeks and chin.
“I wouldn’t put it anywhere around your eyes,” Brendan said.
“Agreed,” she said, then looked up at him and grinned.
“What?” he asked.
“Look at us. I’m sitting her bare-ass naked, rubbing some voodoo concoction all over myself while you hold the bottle. I wonder how long it would take Mama to pitch a fit if she walked in on this?”
“Oh hell, I never thought. Just hurry,” he said and looked nervously over his shoulder.
She slipped her arms back through the sleeves of the gown and re-tied it.
“There now… all doctored and decent and no one’s the wiser.”
Brendan screwed the lid back on the bottle and slipped it into the cotton pouch.
“I’m going to put this in the bottom drawer of this table, okay?”
Julie watched him tuck it toward the back of the drawer behind the small plastic tub.
“Is there any rule to how often I can use it?” she asked.
“Claudette just said to use it as you felt the need. I think you should wash it off the palms of your hands, though.” He gave her a wet, soapy washcloth to clean up.
As soon as she finished, she lay back down, tucked the bear beneath her arm and let out a long, shaky breath.
“Tell Mama Lou thank you from the bottom of my heart. This is the first time since it happened that I almost feel normal again.”
“I will. Oh. I found LeGrande this morning and told him you sent your thanks for his help.”
“What did he say?” she asked.
“He was pleased, I think. He told me to take care of you. I told him that was a given.”
She smiled, but her thoughts were in free fall. “They’re going to dismiss me in a day or so.”
“That’s wonderful,” he said.
“As much as I hate to go there, I’ll probably finish recuperating at my parents’ home, but only because it will be easier until I can be mobile on my own.”
“I guessed as much.”
“You’ll come see me, won’t you?”
“I’ll call you every day,” he said.
“But you won’t come there?”
Their gazes locked. Finally, it was Brendan who looked away.
She sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Before he could explain, the door opened and Grayson March strode in. His face was flushed, and there was a glitter in his eyes that Julie recognized as fury. She didn’t know what was wrong, but she knew her father was about to make the current situation worse, and he did when he glared at Brendan.
“This is the last damn person I want to see right now.”
Brendan lifted his chin, as if bracing for a blow.
Julie was horrified. “Daddy! How dare you—”
Grayson was so angry he was shaking. “I can’t prove it, but I know your father was responsible for—”
Brendan was fed up and pointed a finger in Grayson’s face.
“That’s enough, damn it! I’m sick and tired of being the punching bag for what’s going on between you and Anson Poe. You two grew up together. You have known him a hell of a lot longer than I hav
e. I haven’t lived at home since I was nineteen years old and there is a reason for that. You’re a grown man. Try acting like one.”
Grayson flinched. The put-down was hard to hear, and he could tell by the look on Julie’s face she was going to be mad at him all over again.
Brendan lifted Julie’s hand to his lips. “I’m sorry, Julie. I love you. I will always love you, but you have to go home to get well, and I wouldn’t set foot there if my life depended on it.”
Julie was crying. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“You are no more responsible for your father’s actions than I am for mine. I’ll call you.”
“You don’t understand,” Grayson snapped. “Two of my men are dead and—”
Brendan’s expression went blank. “Are you accusing me of murder?”
“No, but—”
“Then shut the fuck up,” he said softly and walked out of the room without looking back.
Julie pointed at the door. “Get out.”
Grayson sighed. “Look, you don’t know what’s been happening.”
“I won’t ask you again,” Julie said.
He pivoted angrily and strode out of the room, blaming everything that was going wrong in his life on the argument he had with Poe at the apartment building. He was convinced that none of this would ever have happened had it not been for his daughter’s infatuation with Anson’s son.
****
Lisette Branscum finally made a decision. Knowing she had been burned out on purpose had destroyed any interest she might have had in rebuilding her life in New Orleans. Without knowing who her enemy was, she’d be living the rest of her life looking over her shoulder. She had applied for a passport and as soon as her insurance money and the passport arrived, she was going to Paris—maybe for good. In the meantime, she’d decided to make the rounds of the city where she’d been born, saying good-bye to her friends without tears or angst.
It was during one of her visits that she heard the latest local gossip about Anson Poe and wondered if the voodoo curse she’d asked Mama Lou to put on him had taken a wrong turn. If it was working, Anson should’ve been the one going down for murder, not giving a statement that pointed the finger at Grayson March’s hired guns.
