The Sinner in Mississippi

by D L Lane

  “I hope we’re not disturbing you?”

  “I have a few minutes.” I walked over to the seating area. “Please, gentlemen, let’s get more comfortable.”

  Once everyone had taken their seats, Ms. Bauman asked, “May I get anyone anything before we start? Coffee, perhaps?”

  Both men shook their heads, detective Hamby saying, “No, thank you, ma’am.” His gaze directed at me, he cocked his head. “We’d rather get into things if you don’t mind, Mr. King.”

  “I don’t mind at all. And please excuse my poor manners. It’s been a long night, and today hasn’t been much better.”

  I glanced at the woman seated primly with her hands clasped in her lap across from me. “Gentlemen, this is Ms. Bauman. She takes care of this household.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Hamby said.

  “Likewise,” said Sergeant Broussard.

  “I’m happy to make both your acquaintances as well,” she said, never breaking her straight posture.

  The detective’s dark eyes came back to me. “If you don’t mind, would you tell me about the events which led to your housekeeper calling the station yesterday, which in turn led us to the home of Bruce Singleton?”

  I proceeded with a rundown of what happened, not leaving out a thing. While it’s true, I would be forever grateful James Henry brought Mississippi to me, and if I were honest, walking in on what he did, I couldn’t blame him for his actions; the truth was, I was powerless when it came to protecting him from the consequences. I was sure he ran once he left my drive, and all I was capable of doing was assisting with retaining legal services once he was apprehended. And he would be. Eventually.

  “Are you aware James Singleton is wanted for the crimes of robbery?”

  I nodded. “I am.”

  “Now he is our main suspect for two very violent acts and is wanted for a double homicide. So I must ask. Do you know where he went or have any suspicions as to his whereabouts?”

  “I’m sorry, but I do not.”

  “Do you know of anyone he might seek out who would be willing to harbor him?” Broussard asked, with his pencil poised over a pad of paper.

  “I’m afraid I don’t, Sergeant.”

  “Ms. Bauman,” he said. “Would you have any information regarding the same?”

  “I wouldn’t. I’ve never met Ms. Singleton’s family,” she answered.

  “Would you mind telling me why Officer LeBlanc was turned away after arriving here yesterday evening?” Detective Hamby kept his sharp eyes trained on her.

  “He asked if he could speak with Ms. Singleton, and she wasn’t in any shape to see anyone, let alone undergo questioning.”

  I sat forward in my seat. “Ms. Singleton had been seriously injured and required medical attention. When the officer arrived, she was...” I closed my eyes, trying to stave off the horrible memory.

  “She was what?” Hamby asked.

  “She’d been abused—sexually assaulted by the two men you found at her father’s home.”

  I had to take a moment.

  “Ms. Singleton wasn’t mentally stable once she woke,” Ms. Bauman added.

  “What do you mean,” the detective asked.

  “She tried to hurt herself with a scalpel she’d taken from the doctor’s medical bag,” I said.

  Both men frowned, appearing to be sincerely upset.

  “I’m sorry.” Sergeant Broussard shook his head, the detective agreeing with him.

  I was too.

  Throats cleared, then the men went back to their professional demeanors.

  “We will need to speak with Ms. Singleton,” Hamby said.

  “She is currently under my doctor's care, and I’m afraid she still isn’t well enough to speak with anyone. But, if you would like to confirm her medical condition, I’ll be happy to provide you with Doctor Rhymes’ phone number and address.”

  “Yes,” he said, “I would like to speak with him.”

  “Ms. Bauman?” I shifted toward her. “Will you make sure Detective Hamby receives the information before he leaves?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  She inclined her head.

  Returning my attention to the men, I mustered up something of a smile. “If we are finished here, I must attend to other matters, but I am available any time if you require any further follow-up, or if I can be of some assistance.”

  “I would like to back up for a moment, if I may,” Hamby said.

  “All right.”

  “You told us James Singleton brought his sister to you, and from what you said, she was in dire need of medical attention.”

  “Yes. That’s correct.”

  “But why would he bring his sister to you? How are you and she acquainted?”

  Keeping my features smooth, I placed my right ankle on my left knee. “Ms. Singleton has been a guest in my home since July, and due to the shortage in my staff as well several more guests arriving, she consented to help Ms. Bauman around the house temporarily.” I shrugged. “As to why James Henry would bring her here, I assumed she had been lucid enough at one point to tell him to, knowing I would help her.”

  “But you can’t say for sure, just your best guess?”

  “That’s right. I can’t say for sure; he never told me why. Our interaction was brief, as I already explained.”

  “So, if Ms. Singleton resides here,” Sergeant Broussard said, “why was she at her father’s when the alleged incident between her and Dudley McCoy and Alistair Blevins took place?”

  Anger flared, but I held it back. “The incident isn’t alleged. Doctor Rhymes can confirm her condition, as well my entire staff as to how hurt she was upon arrival.”

  “Yes, I didn’t mean to offend with my word choice; it is a habit at this point in my career.”

  “Ms. Singleton and another one of my female guests had a misunderstanding, and Ms. Singleton left.” I sighed. I wasn’t going to open the can of worms Catherine had created.

  “Why would she do that?”

  “I assumed to cool off,” I hedged.

  “But she didn’t return that night?”

  I shook my head. “No, she did not.”

  “And that wasn’t unusual?”

  “It was, and I intended to go look for her, but I was detained with other things.” I dropped my leg and straightened. “I was waiting for my driver to bring the car the next day to do what I failed to do the evening before when James Henry arrived, and the rest you have already heard.”

  “I see.”

  I scooted to the edge of my seat. “Now, as I stated earlier, I have things that require my attention.”

  “We’re done here,” Hamby said, “but we may need further inquiries.”

  “Of course. Thank you for coming.”

  I stood, and everyone followed, rising to their feet one-by-one.

  “Oh, and give Police Chief Dubois my best,” I said. “I hope his wife is feeling better.”

  The two men glanced at each other then back at me. “Yes, I believe she is recovering. And we will pass on your sentiment,” Sergeant Broussard said.

  “We appreciate your time and candor, Mr. King,” the detective added.

  I nodded. “Ms. Bauman will provide the information you need and then see you out. Have a good afternoon, gentlemen.”

  “You as well,” the men returned in unison.

  Leaving them behind, I headed for the stairs. I needed to check on Mississippi, and I had a feeling the driving urge to make sure she was safe wasn’t something that was going to end anytime soon—if ever.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  What happened?

  “Mr. King.”

  My shoulder was being nudged, and I think I mumbled something unintelligible.

  “Mr. King, wake up,” Ms. Bonny said—more shaking of my arm.

  Panic rushed in at once, and I sat up. “What is it? Mississippi?” My gaze bounced over to the bed I’d been sitting by—her small for
m under the sheets, sound to sleep.

  “No, sir. She’s been sleeping since her last outburst.”

  Mississippi had awoken while the doctor was visiting. Another manic incident taking place, only nothing as devastating as her first episode. But, it had been bad enough. Doctor Rhymes gave her something to calm her nerves, which allowed her to fall back to sleep.

  The panic resided as I scrubbed my palms down my face. “I must have dozed off.”

  “Understandably. Have you slept at all in the past couple of days?”

  “Not much,” I admitted, glancing up at her.

  “I’m sorry I had to wake you, sir, but Ms. Bauman sent me. That officer is back, asking to speak to Mississippi, and she thought you should handle it.”

  “Which one? A detective and sergeant were here this afternoon.”

  “LeBlanc,” she said, “and he’s pretty insistent.”

  I got to my feet, forgoing the need to stretch. “I’ll take care of it. Stay here with Ms. Singleton, and don’t let anyone in this room except for—”

  “You, Ms. Bauman, and Doctor Rhymes,” she said, smiling.

  “Has my mother and Catherine arrived home yet?”

  “Yes, about an hour ago, but I don’t know where they got off to.”

  “All right. I’ll check back in as soon as I can.”

  ***

  From the top landing of the stairs, I glanced down into the foyer where Ms. Bauman stood with a uniformed officer who appeared to be agitated—my housekeeper calm as she spoke, and before I made it to the bottom, my mother and Catherine appeared as if by magic.

  “Whatever is going on?” Mother asked as she approached the pair by the front door.

  “I will take care of this,” I said, coming up behind the small crowd.

  Catherine’s green eyes met mine. “Thayer, I’ve—”

  Holding up a hand, I said, “Not now.”

  Pursing her lips, she turned her head but remained silent.

  I hadn’t had time to deal with her yet, but I would soon. To look at her turned my stomach.

  “Mother, Ms. Carrington, Ms. Bauman,” I said, drawing their gazes, “please take your leave, I’ll take care of things with the officer.”

  “LeBlanc,” he dropped, “Officer Abel LeBlanc.”

  Striding over to him, I held out a hand, which he shook. “Officer LeBlanc, would you mind speaking with me in my office?”

  “I wouldn’t mind in the least; in fact, that would be my preference.” He narrowed his gaze on Ms. Bauman. “I’ve been asking to speak to you and Mississippi Singleton.”

  “I’m afraid Ms. Singleton isn’t well enough for visitors, speaking to me will have to suffice.”

  Leaving the women to their low chatter, the officer and I made our way to my office, where I securely closed the door when we stepped inside.

  LeBlanc took off his cap, carefully holding it between his hands. “I’m afraid I have some news which will require Ms. Singleton being notified.”

  “As I said. She isn’t able to speak with you, regardless of the matter.” I took a seat at my desk. “She’s suffered grievous atrocities and horrible injuries, and has been sedated by the doctor for her safety.” I rubbed my throbbing temple. “Speaking with Ms. Singleton, at this point, just isn’t an option.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for her troubles, but I’m afraid the news I have will only add to them.”

  “Whatever you have to say will need to be said to me.”

  “Mississippi,” he said, then paused a crease forming on his brow. “Ms. Singleton’s brother was killed earlier today in an altercation.”

  Sorrow hit, but not surprise. “James Henry?”

  Officer LeBlanc shook his head, a lock of sandy-brown hair falling over his right eye, which he swept back. “No, sir. James Henry is still considered at large. It was the other brother, Danny Joe.”

  Blinking, I allowed his words to sink in. I’d been expecting to hear they’d caught up to James Henry, and there was some resisting when apprehending him, resulting in his death, but not that Danny Joe had been killed.

  “If you don’t mind,” I said, “what happened?”

  “Danny Singleton had been spending the last few days at one of the more questionable establishments in the shadier part of the parish. You may have some knowledge of it, Clarisse Eugenia’s place?”

  I nodded. “While I’ve never frequented such an establishment, I’m aware it exists.”

  “Apparently, he’d been racking up quite a tab without an ability to pay, which resulted in an argument between him and one of Clarisse’s female...employees.” He shifted from foot-to-foot.

  “As I understand it, being an employee of Ms. Eugenia’s is a polite way of putting it,” I said.

  “Yes, well. It would seem she took exception with something Danny said and slapped him. He returned the favor, knocking her to the floor. She pulled a knife and stabbed him.” His hazel gaze came to me. “Eighteen times.”

  The information was shocking, but I focused my thoughts. “I assume the woman has been taken into custody?”

  “Yes, sir. The case is cut and dry.”

  This wouldn’t be an easy conversation, but Mississippi would need to know.

  “When Ms. Singleton is strong enough to hear the news,” I said, “I will inform her, Officer LeBlanc.”

  “The thing is, the Singleton’s are one of the many families in the parish that have fallen on hard times without any recovery, and well...” He gripped the hat in his hands a bit tighter. “Danny Joe and I were classmates when we were younger until he dropped out of school, and while I wouldn’t call us anything close to being friends, I still feel the need to do something.”

  “As in?”

  “With Ms. Singleton’s older brother attempting to outrun the law, her father in jail, and her mother gone for many years now, there’s no one to claim the body.”

  I glanced at the desktop. LeBlanc was right. There was no one left to take care of Danny Joe’s remains. And there was nothing Mississippi could do either.

  Returning my attention to the officer, I said, “I’ll make some calls and take care of things.”

  His eyes rounded. “You will?”

  “Yes. Please inform the coroner; I’ll make sure his body is claimed for burial alongside his mother.”

  “Thank you, Mr. King.”

  Head aching, I rose to my feet. “There is nothing to thank me for.”

  “Just the same,” he said as I walked him to the door.

  “I appreciate you notifying me.” I reached up for the bell pull on the wall, tugging at it.

  A few seconds later, staff arrived. “You rang?”

  “Yes, would you please see the officer out, Ms. Bonny?”

  She bowed her head. “Yes, sir.”

  So, with a final handshake, I said my good-evenings. Ready to step inside my office and shut the door, Catherine came sauntering down the hall, waving.

  “Yoo-hoo, Thayer, hang on. I need to speak with you.”

  “Catherine—”

  “Nope.” She flipped her hand up—palm out. “You can’t keep ignoring me.”

  I hadn’t been, but at that point, I wanted to. I just needed a little more time to clear my plate, and then I’d be ready and focused on dealing with her. And deal with her, I would.

  “Whatever you have to talk about, now isn’t a good time. I have many things to take care of, and my head is pounding.”

  “Aw...” she cooed, the frown on her face vanishing. “I could give you a neck massage.”

  Revulsion slivered down my spine at the thought of her hands on me. “No. I’ll be fine.”

  The displeasure reappeared just as fast as it had left, lining her brow. “Ever since you brought that girl back into this house—”

  “You do not want to go there, Catherine.”

  She crossed her arms. “Oh, but I do.”

  “All right,” I said, stepping aside, allowing her entrance into my o
ffice.

  Hips swaying, she crossed the room, coming to a stop in front of the window, setting her chin, those green eyes narrowing.

  Clearly, I’d be dealing with her sooner rather than later.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure, but we both know I’d be lying

  Stepping up to Catherine, I loomed over her. The look on my face must have been unpleasant enough to make her take a step back. “I want to know what, if anything, you had to do with the condition Ms. Singleton was in when I carried her broken body into this house, and I want to know now!”

  She blinked, rapidly. “What? You think I had something to do with whatever happened to her?”

  “I think you are the reason she left this house in the first place, which put her into danger.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” She flipped her golden hair. “That girl stole something valuable from me, was caught, confronted, and then she ran. I don’t see how her despicable actions fall on my shoulders.”

  “Everything falls on your shoulders, Catherine, especially since you are the one who planted the necklace under Ms. Singleton’s mattress.”

  Gasping, she cupped her palm over her mouth. “How can you suggest such a thing of me?”

  “I don’t suggest it. I know what you did, and it was your vile actions that set the whole dreadful thing into motion.”

  “Something is wrong with you; I would never—”

  I pointed my finger in her face. “You, Catherine, are responsible, and you know it. But I want to know, were you in any way responsible for what happened to Mississippi after she left this house?”

  “So, it’s Mississippi now?”

  “Answer the question!” Carefully, I watched for any sign of knowledge in her eyes.

  “I don’t even know what happened to her,” she said with a sniff.

  I didn’t see any deception or hear it, believing she was at least telling the truth of not knowing, but we stared at each other for unfathomable moments, both of us reading the other, then something flickered within the depths of her green gaze. Spitefulness.

  “But even if I did know something,” she said, trying to get under my skin, “why would I tell you anything after the way you are treating me?”