In the Dreaming Hour

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Stop right there,” he said. “I’m Stephen Latling. My wife told me you two wanted to talk to me.”

  He sounded unwelcoming. Lucy came to a halt, as did Beau. “I’m Beau Meade,” he introduced himself calmly. “I’ve lived in and around this town most of my life and I can’t say that you and I have ever really crossed paths. That’s strange, considering the size of this town, so I wanted to introduce myself.”

  Latling shook his head. “I know who you are,” he said, disdain in his voice as his gaze lingered on him. “There’s a good reason we haven’t met. I wanted to make sure we never met, just like I’ve made sure to stay away from your daddy. Oh, I know who he is but he’s a lot younger than me. I made sure our paths never crossed.”

  Beau had to admit he was a bit taken aback by the hostility. “Oh,” he said, unsure how to proceed at that point. “My dad has never mentioned you, either. If there’s some animosity between you two, I didn’t know about it. I apologize.”

  Latling’s bushy eyebrows lifted. “Animosity?” he repeated. “You’re a Meade. That’s all I need to hear. And you…”

  He was looking at Lucy, who, at this point, had a cool but professional expression on her face. “I’m Lucy Bondurant,” she said steadily. “My grandmother was Victory Bondurant. My father, Bill, is….”

  “I know who Billy Bondurant is,” Latling spat. “Good Lord, a Hembree standing right in front of me. I’d hoped your family had all died out by now. I saw in the paper that Victory died recently and I was glad to hear it. The last of that horrible family finally dead.”

  It was a harsh insult to Lucy but she didn’t rise to it. “Mr. Latling, I understand where you’re coming from,” she said. “I know what the Hembree name means around here. But I was born in California and I personally had nothing to do with whatever happened in the past. I’ve come here today to find some answers about some things that happened years ago, things your father was involved in. I’m hoping that might bring some peace to both of us, sir.”

  Latling shook his head. “I already have peace,” he said. “Whatever answers you’re looking for, look elsewhere. I won’t help you.”

  He sounded final. As he turned to walk away, Lucy called after him. “If you have peace, it’s a lie,” she said. Now, she was starting to sound nasty, spurred on by Latling’s hostility. “If you think for one moment your father wasn’t wrapped up with whatever the Hembrees or the Meades were doing, think again. He was just as dirty as the rest of them and I think you know it or you wouldn’t be so upset about it. I’ve come here today to help us all find closure to sins of the past but if you want to keep ignoring everything that happened, then you don’t deserve any peace.”

  She was harsh about it. Latling came to a halt and turned to her, his features contorted. “Who the hell are you to come to my home and talk to me like that?” he demanded. “I don’t know you. In fact, if you don’t get off my property, I’m going to tell Sheriff Meade here to remove you. And then he can get the hell off my property, too.”

  Lucy wouldn’t be pushed around, not when she was determined to seek the truth for Mamaw above all else. Even in the face of a man who obviously knew the histories of the families, she was going to stand her ground.

  “Your father delivered an illegitimate child back in nineteen thirty-three,” she fired back. “Our guess is that the child was killed and, if it was, your father was in on it. That makes him a murderer. Now, do you still want to walk away from me and pretend that all of the Hembree-Meade ills weren’t something your family contributed to?”

  Latling’s jaw dropped. “You bitch,” he hissed. “That’s slander! I’ll sue you for slander!”

  Lucy remained cool. “I have proof,” she said. “You can’t sue me if it’s true.”

  Latling stood with one foot on the steps to his porch, his entire body twitching with rage. After a moment, he backed away from the porch and moved in her direction.

  “What in the hell do you want from me?” he asked, perplexed. “I’ve spent my entire life ignoring the Hembrees and the Meades, and now you’re both on my doorstep making threats. Are you trying to coerce me into something?”

  “You never even asked why we were here,” Lucy pointed out. “You came out throwing hate and accusations at us. Whatever you’re pissed off about, I didn’t do anything to cause it and neither did Sheriff Meade. Like you, we’re descendants of families in this town who have lived here a very long time. Instead of being rude, you simply could have asked us our business. I have a couple of questions and it won’t take very long.”

  Latling’s jaw flexed dangerously. “I really have nothing to say to you.”

  Lucy took a step towards the man, her gaze imploring. “But I have something to say to you,” she said quietly. “I am sorry for whatever my great-grandfather did to your family. I truly am. But I didn’t perpetrate anything and neither did Sheriff Meade. You and I and the sheriff are from the generation that’s dealing with the fallout. I know my great-grandfather was an evil bastard and I’m just trying to right some of those wrongs. If you still don’t want to help me, then that’s your business. I’ll go away. But I’d like to think there’s some humanity in you that wants to see justice served for the shit Laveau Hembree put people through in this town, your family included.”

  Latling’s jaw was still ticking. By this time, his wife and the housekeeper had come out of the house, hearing the agitated voices. The elderly African American housekeeper stood back by the front door while the wife stood on the porch steps, listening to everything that was being said.

  “Steve,” the wife pleaded softly. “Please….”

  Latling didn’t look at his wife but he certainly heard her. Something in his expression changed and, after a moment, he simply shook his head. “Your great-granddaddy was purely evil.”

  “I know.”

  “What do you want to ask me?”

  He said it as if he didn’t mean it but Lucy didn’t care. At least she had his attention. “The baby I just mentioned, the one born in nineteen thirty-three,” she said. “I don’t know how old you are but I’m guessing you weren’t alive back then.”

  Latling shook his head. “I was born eight years later.”

  “I’m assuming your dad kept records from that time, but do you still have them? Specifically, I’m looking for any mention of that baby.”

  Latling sighed sharply, trying to recall over the frustration he was feeling. “Daddy kept records back then, of course, and we have boxes of stuff up in the attic,” he said. “I don’t know if there’d be any mention of a baby but I’m sure there must be if he delivered it. But you said he killed it. Did he or didn’t he?”

  Lucy nodded faintly. “I think he helped,” she said. “But I’m really not sure. I’d like to find the records of that child to see if we can exonerate your father.”

  “Did you look at the county birth records yet?”

  Lucy shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. She hesitated a moment before continuing. “We don’t think there would be any public record of the birth. The child was born out of wedlock and Laveau Hembree would have most certainly covered it up.”

  Latling was calming, thankfully. He seemed less agitated now, more thoughtful. “Whose baby was it?”

  Lucy glanced at Beau, looking for some kind of support. Should she tell Latling? Should she keep quiet? Already, she’d mentioned the baby to Aunt Dell. Now she’d be telling a second person. If she wanted to keep the child secret, she wasn’t doing a very good job of it. She didn’t want it to get back to her parents before she had a chance to tell them.

  “It was a biracial baby,” she said, avoiding the question. “Suffice it to say it was born under Laveau’s roof. Look, I’m a defense attorney. If you let me take a look at your father’s records from that time, I swear I’ll keep them in the strictest confidence. I just really need to see if your father had any record of the birth.”

  Latling looked at her a moment before his gaze shifted to B
eau. He was considering the request but, after a few seconds, he simply shook his head.

  “I… I don’t know,” he said. “They’re all up in the attic in boxes. I’d have to go look for them because I don’t want you pawing around in my daddy’s private records. Let me… let me think about it. Come back tomorrow and we’ll see.”

  Lucy was disappointed at his answer but at least he hadn’t run them off altogether. She assumed that was as good as it was going to get at the moment so she didn’t push.

  “Okay,” she said. “Thank you for the consideration. I promise I’ll be very careful with the records and I’ll keep them completely confidential, but I just want you to know how important this is, to so many people. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”

  Latling simply nodded his head and turned for the house. The wife was still standing on the stairs, looking worried, but the housekeeper had disappeared back inside. When her husband drew near, the wife reached out and put an arm around him, obviously very concerned for his mental state.

  Lucy and Beau watched Latling and his wife disappear through the front door and the panel shut softly. When it was just the two of them again, they turned to each other.

  “Wow,” Lucy said with some disbelief. “That is one pissed-off man.”

  Beau nodded, turning for the car. “That’s how a lot of people around here react to the name Hembree,” he said. “If you spend any time here at all, that won’t be the first time you run into that.”

  Lucy followed him as they headed to the cruiser. “Do you still get that? With the name Meade, I mean?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes,” he said. “Not too much, though. There’s really only a handful of people left who really remember my granddaddy and later generations just don’t care too much. But Hembree… that’s a name that most people know.”

  “And hate.”

  “Exactly.”

  They took the stairs down to the sidewalk and eventually to the curb, where Beau opened up the passenger door for her.

  “Latling made it sound like it all happened yesterday,” she said.

  Beau glanced back up at the big, rambling Victorian. “It was his daddy who was involved in it,” he said. “He’s an old man. Old prejudices die hard with that generation. But you handled yourself admirably, counselor. I don’t imagine many people get the best of you.”

  “Not many. No one, actually.”

  “I would believe that.”

  Lucy smiled weakly as he shut her door. He went around other side of the car, climbed in, and fired it up. He was just pulling around the side of the house, a smaller street that would take them to a major boulevard, when they saw someone on the driveway behind Latling’s house.

  It was the old African American housekeeper, the same woman they’d seen standing in the front door. She was waving a hand at them, flagging them down as she stood in the driveway. Curious, Beau pulled up to the driveway and lowered the passenger side window.

  “Yes, ma’am?” he said. “Can I help you?”

  The woman was very old and very agitated. “There’s not much time,” she said. “Ms. Priscilla has taken Dr. Latling up to his bedroom to rest, so there’s not much time. I heard yous talkin’ about a baby.”

  Lucy eyed the woman with some uncertainty. “Yes, we were talking about a baby,” she said. “But we’ll be back tomorrow. Why do you ask?”

  The old woman shook her head. “Because,” she said, “I… I think I have somethin’ ya’ll might want to know. My mama was the housekeeper for the first Dr. Latling back in the day. I used to come to work with her when I was little and I helped her around the house a bit, doin’ what I could. You say this baby was born in nineteen hundred and thirty-three?”

  Lucy didn’t know why, but her heart suddenly began to beat faster. Something was stirring in her, something excitable. “Yes,” she said. “Why?”

  The housekeeper put her old hands on the car. “I was six years old in nineteen hundred and thirty-three, and this may not have nothin’ to do with the baby yous lookin’ fo’, but Dr. Latling brought home a baby one night in October or November of that year. I knows it was autumn because the colors of the trees were changin’. I heards him and his wife talkin’ about the baby and I heards it cryin’. I remember that Ms. Latling was cryin’, too. I heard Dr. Latling said he done brought the baby over from Mr. Laveau’s house and that Mr. Laveau wanted to kill it. He told Ms. Latling to hide the baby.”

  Lucy felt the car sway; it wasn’t even moving but she felt it sway. Seized with the woman’s astonishing tale, she grasped the side of the door for support.

  “A… baby from Laveau Hembree’s house?” she repeated. “My God… that’s the baby we’re looking for!”

  The old woman looked behind her, nervously, just to make sure no one was watching her from the house. She was about to open her mouth again when a door slammed loudly somewhere in the house and they could all hear a woman’s voice, high-pitched, calling for someone.

  Cora!

  The housekeeper shuffled away from the car. “I gots to go,” she said fearfully, waving her hand at the car. “Go on, now – get! Don’t let Ms. Priscilla see you here!”

  She struggled up the driveway as fast as her little legs would carry her and Beau, not wanting to aggravate the confusing situation, put his foot on the gas and tore away from the curb.

  But Lucy wasn’t ready to let it go yet; she turned around in her seat, watching the rear of the Latling house fade away, watching the old housekeeper until she disappeared from view.

  “Shit!” she hissed, facing forward again, her eyes wide with shock. “Holy Shit… did you hear that?”

  Beau took a left turn at the intersection right in front of them. “I heard it.”

  “She knows about the baby!”

  Beau straightened out the car and continued north on the main boulevard. “She knows about some baby,” he said. “Don’t get your hopes up, now. She could be mistaken. You don’t know yet until you hear the whole thing.”

  Lucy knew that. God help her, she did. But her heart was pounding and her mind was racing. “Oh, my God,” she breathed, struggling to calm down. “What if it’s as easy as all that? What if an eye-witness really saw that baby and knows what happened to it?”

  Beau reached over and patted her knee, a gesture of comfort and nothing more, but to Lucy, it was the touch of a man. She hadn’t felt that in such a long time. Now her heart was racing for another reason entirely.

  “Like I said,” Beau said calmly. “Don’t get your hopes up. She’s a very old woman and there’s no telling how she remembers things. Just keep that in perspective.”

  “But you heard what she said,” she insisted. “A baby from Laveau Hembree’s house? It has to be Mamaw’s.”

  Beau was trying to stay even about the situation. “Possibly,” he said. “But the old lady could have been mistaken. You shouldn’t get too excited about it until you hear everything. What we want are all of the facts.”

  She couldn’t believe he couldn’t see the obvious. “But she said a baby in nineteen thirty-three from Laveau Hembree’s house!”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  “There couldn’t be two babies from that year, that place.”

  “All I’m saying is that if it’s not the baby we’re looking for, it’s going to crush you. We don’t want that.”

  He was sounding chivalrous. After that pat on the knee, Lucy might have taken his chivalry for something more than just polite concern. She eyed him a moment before facing forward, looking out of the window.

  “You’re probably right,” she sighed. “But it sure sounded to me like it was exactly what we’re looking for.”

  “It did to me, too.”

  “And what about that Latling guy? He was seriously hostile to both of us.”

  Beau nodded as they came to a stop at a red light. “We’re probably lucky he didn’t come at us with a shotgun,” he said. “People tend to still do that down here.”

&
nbsp; She grinned. “Great,” she muttered. “I’ve spent my whole life in Los Angeles around criminals and I’ve never had my life threatened. It would be ironic that I’d come back to Mississippi and have a gun shoved into my face by some hillbilly.”

  “A hillbilly with a sweet house.”

  “True.”

  They laughed about that as the light turned green and he continued on to the main drag that would take them back to her hotel. The conversation died at that point but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, there was a warmth to it that hadn’t been there before. Lucy tried not to read too much into it. Up ahead, her hotel came into view.

  “Well,” she said, “I guess that’s it for today. Thanks for the ride, Sheriff.”

  He pulled into the driveway of the hotel. “Anytime,” he said. “I suppose I should get back to work and do what the people of this county actually pay me to do.”

  She smiled as she gathered her things. “Are you usually busy?”

  “Never a dull moment.”

  “Then I’ll let you get back to work,” she said as he pulled up in front of the hotel. She didn’t get out right away; she turned to look at him. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your help in all of this. I won’t ever forget your kindness.”

  “It’s been a pleasure, ma’am.”

  “Do you want to go with me back to Latling’s tomorrow?”

  He nodded. “I think I’d better,” he said. “It might diffuse some of his prejudice off of you.”

  “I appreciate it. What time?”

  “Same time as today, I’d think.”

  “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  With that, she opened up the door and climbed out. She was half-hoping he’d mention something about having dinner together but he didn’t. Maybe it was better that way because it would be easy to become accustomed to having him around. With a wave, he pulled out and she turned for the hotel lobby.

  It was an effort to force herself away from thoughts of Beau Meade and on to Mo Guinn, the lawyer she had an appointment with in about an hour. She wanted to change her clothes to look more businesslike, especially when meeting with another lawyer, so she headed up to her room and took a quick shower before changing into a business pantsuit, the only one she’d brought with her.