She turned her gaze to the passing landscape, all green and lush as summer lolled hotly through its dog days, sticky and humid in the bayou country. It’s all right. I have been attempting to put last night and this morning out of my mind. I think it’s best. Mr. Badon. . . ?”
Jon, please.”
For the very first time since he had put eyes on the woman beside him, Linda smiled. It was a lovely smile, only adding to her beauty. All right . . . Jon. And I’m Linda. I apologize for being so ...” She laughed, and it was a good hearty laugh, nothing girlish or simpering about its sound; it was a laugh of acceptance that she could not change what had happened in her life; so live with it and work it out. . . . Snooty, I believe is what Alma called me.”
Alma?”
Alma Brady. Her husband used to work—If that’s what you want to call what he did—for us. His name is ... well, I don’t know what his real name is. Everyone calls him Booger. I guess I am snooty. But the culture shock of moving out of New Orleans to this . . . haven of rednecks and hillbilly music is something to which I still cannot become acclimated. So if that makes me snooty, so be it.”
Some people, Linda—most, probably—cannot differentiate between sophistication and snobbery. It isn’t your fault; it’s the inadequacy of others. A great many people, unfortunately, reach a certain intellectual level and choose to go no further. They are suspicious of anyone who rises above them, and since they cannot cope mentally, they choose derision instead.”
Thank you, Professor.” She laughed. Where did you attend school, Jon?”
I went as far as the ninth grade down in south Louisiana.”
No . . . I meant college. What university?”
None.” She was shocked with his answer. But that does not mean a person must stop learning.”
You must read a lot.”
I try to read five books a week when I’m not in the field.”
Languages?”
Several, en effet.”
Oh, good! And your accent is quaint.”
A quick, noncommittal smile from the man. You and this Alma, you have bad blood between you? A quarrel, perhaps?”
A very public one. At a local supermarket. Right after Paul fired Booger from the place.”
What prompted the dismissal?”
She smiled, shaking her head in disbelief. You do not speak as I would imagine a mercenary would. But there again, I suppose I’ve seen too many movies. Paul couldn’t keep Booger out of the swamp and on the job. He was officially employed as sort of a handyman. He can’t do too much. He’s . . . slow. Not really retarded, I believe . . . just a little below average in intelligence. One of those who stands about in public and scratches himself. You know the type.”
Unfortunately.” Jon’s brow furrowed in thought, then relaxed. What does this Booger person look like, Linda?”
Short, stocky, eyes set close together and deep-set in his head. Funny . . . yellow-looking eyes. And he is hairy as a brute.”
She knows nothing, Jon surmised. Paul kept her ignorant as to his real work. The other workers?”
How many?”
No . . . I mean, why don’t they live on the place?”
We don’t have that many men, really. Paul said farming wasn’t like it was a few years ago. A place this size didn’t need that many people working it. I rarely see them; only hear the sounds of equipment running. The foreman didn’t want to live on the place, even though we offered him a rent-free home.”
Jon turned off the parish road and onto a newly laid blacktop road. We are now officially on Breaux property,” he said with a smile.
She put a slim hand on his tanned, muscular forearm, the fingers tightening, warm on his skin. And I am officially getting scared, Jon.”
Don’t be. I took your brother’s money to come here, and I will see that nothing happens to you. I give you my word.”
And you don’t go back on your word?”
Never.”
She rubbed her fingers on his arm and he wondered if she knew how sexual a motion that was. I still get the feeling you aren’t telling me all you know. I think we have a lot of talking to do, Jon Badon, mercenaire.”
Peut-etre que oui, ” was his reply. Perhaps so.
How long can you sit on this, Sheriff?” Joe asked. How long are you going to keep the people uninformed?”
It was late afternoon, and Mike, involved in thought, was not paying attention to Joe. Why in God’s name did Badon and Ms. Breaux want to stay out at that . . . death house? What did Badon really have up his sleeve? If anything. Mike didn’t completely trust the man. Call it cop’s instinct. He looked up, meeting Joe’s eyes. What did you say, Joe?”
The people, Sheriff. The people of this parish. They have a right to know what’s in that swamp. The dangers in there. Don’t you think that’s so?”
Joe . . . man, we’d have pure panic. Everybody in this parish would drag out his rifle and shotgun and be shooting at anything that moved in the night. You know that’s so; I shouldn’t have to tell you. Do you have any idea how many innocent people would get shot? Hurt? Killed? I don’t even like to think about it.”
Blackwell is stomping around out in the front office, demanding a statement. What are you going to tell him? Do you have that thought out?”
Yeah, Mack got together with me and we worked it out.” He flipped a single-spaced, typed report at the man. There it is, and may God help me.”
Joe quickly scanned the single page, his lips moving as he read. Joe had always been a slow reader. Sheriff—this is a bald-faced lie, all of it.”
Yeah, but that’s the way it’s going down, Joe. And the coroner and Ralph at the funeral home will back me up all the way. So will Mack. And I’m counting on you to do the same.”
I won’t tell a lie, Sheriff.”
Mike rose from behind his desk, his face suddenly red with anger. You goddamned sanctimonious prick!” he cussed the man. He cursed him until he was out of breath. Joe sat calmly, taking it without comment, impassively waiting until Mike wound down.
I’ll forgive you for that, Mike,” Joe finally said, after taking a deep breath. But I still won’t tell a lie. I know and you know the people have a right to know about those beasts of the devil.”
Mike slammed a hand on his desk top, rattling a pencil holder, almost overturning a half-filled cup of coffee. Beasts of the devil? What in hell are you preaching about now, you asshole?”
Joe folded his arms across his chest and shut his mouth.
Joe? Listen to me! I’ve got a call in to Governor Parker’s office right now. I’ve spoken with Captain Sundra of the LHP and he agrees with what I’m doing. He thinks the governor will, too. Both judges here agree with me. We’ve got to sit on this for a time. Got to have some thinking room. You’re a minority of one, Joe.”
Joe remained silent, but his eyes were blistering with fury—the eyes of a religious fanatic.
Joe ... you’re a good cop, a bulldog, but you’re letting your religion get the best of you on this one. It’s overriding common sense. I’ll make a deal with you.”
The hot eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Maybe those things . . . those creatures, are the beasts of the devil. I don’t know, Joe. I know that what I saw—we saw—is a beast, for a fact. You want to rewrite this report stating the murderers were some sort of devil-worshipers ... fine, go ahead. You can even use the word inhuman if you want to; just be damned sure you use it in the right place and context. ’Cause, Joe, if you fuck me on this one, I’ll put your ass in isolated protective custody so far back in the woods somebody will have to pump daylight to you. Then I’ll tell everyone you went to L.A. for two weeks to a law-enforcement school.”
You’d do that to me, Mike? To me?”
Try me, Joe.” Mike’s voice was harder than the chief deputy had ever heard it.
Joe sighed, picked up the report, slowly got to his feet. Yes, he thought. Yes, Mike would do just that. All right, Mike, I’ll ... rewrite this
report. But I think you’re wrong. I think those . . . beasts are going to cause a lot more misery and bloodshed than you realize.”
I hope you’re wrong, Joe.”
I do, too. But if I’m right—and I think I am—it’s all on your head. And mine, too, now.” He left the room. Mike heard him say: I’ll have an official statement for you in about an hour, Mr. Blackwell.”
It’s about damned time!”
The phone buzzed on Mike’s desk. Yeah?”
Governor on line four, Sheriff.”
Yes, Governor?”
I just spoke with Colonel Jeansonne of the LHP. He’s spoken with Captain Sundra of your distract. Monsters, Mike? I mean . . . beasts?”
That is correct, sir. Monsters. Beasts. Right out of a horror movie.”
A pause from Baton Rouge. A sigh. This is not a joke, now, Mike? I know how you guys like to kid around up there.”
No joke, sir. The thing just last night killed Paul Breaux out at Despair Plantation and tried to attack—abduct, we believe—Paul’s sister, Linda.”
I know the family. Fine old family. Jesus! I hear you’ve got some sort of mercenary working with you on this. Jon Badon. Colonel Jeansonne pulled the FBI package on him, Mike; he’s a bad one. Hired gun.”
Yes, sir. I know he used to be. But I just deputized him about three hours ago. Special investigator.”
Governor Parker’s reply to that, had it been printed and broadcast, would have cost him every Baptist vote in the state.
Mike let the chief executive of the state of Louisiana cuss for half a minute.
All right, Mike,” he finally said. Play it your way. What’s the plan?”
We sit on it, sir.”
For how long?”
For just as long as it takes, sir.”
Takes to do what, Mike? Come on ... stop pitty-patting about this; be more specific.”
Mike sighed heavily. It was times like these that made him wonder why he had ever got into police work.
Mike? God help us if the press gets wind of any cover-up. What about that fart-head, Blackwell?”
He’s satisfied—for the time being, at least. As much as he’s ever satisified.”
He hates your guts, Mike.”
Tell me about it.”
And mine. Screw him! Mike . . . you want a team from the state police?”
Yes. Sundra believes it would be best to get one from out of our district. Keep our troopers out of it for a time, so we don’t create suspicions.”
Good idea. I’ll have Jeansonne send you his best tach team.”
Then Mike laid it all on the line for the governor, going into detail about Paul Breaux’s suspicions about the Links.
There was a long, very heavy silence from Baton Rouge. When Governor Parker spoke, he shouted the words. Mike held the receiver about six inches from his ear. Good jumping Christ! You mean ... you’re telling me ... you believe they’re producing human babies?” Parker didn’t wait for Mike’s reply.
Mike . . . you really believe all you’ve just told me?” There was a definite note of pure desperation in Parker’s voice.
Governor. . . I don’t know what to believe. But . . . yeah, I believe it. To a degree.” He sighed. I’ve been going over old records we had stored in the basement—those records I could find, that is. Many of them, the old ones, have been destroyed or misplaced. I’d opt for destroyed.”
Destroyed? Unsolved cases’ records?”
Yes, sir. Quite a lot of them.”
But why would anyone do ... ?” Parker was silent for a moment, allowing Mike’s words to sink in. Oh ... crap! You mean . . . you think . . . hell! You’ve got the offspring of some of those . . . things working for you?”
I ... guess so, sir. Maybe. Or did have, at least.”
I’m coming up, Mike. I’ll bring Jeansonne. We’ll drive; attract less attention than a helicopter. We’ll be there in two hours, Mike. Just hold on.” He banged the phone into its cradle.
Hold on to what?” Sheriff Saucier muttered.
The deputy on guard at Despair Plantation had called into the office, receiving permission from Sheriff Saucier to leave. Before he left, he told both Jon and Linda he thought they were nuts to stay out there:
I’ll make certain all the floodlights are working,” Jon told her. For now, using what daylight we have left,”—he glanced up at the sky—four hours, I want to secure the house.”
I don’t want to enter that house alone, Jon.”
I’ll go in with you. We’ll close off the office, then secure the den, the kitchen, and two hall bedrooms. We’ll stay close, I assure you. I won’t let anything happen to you. Now, where is the pistol you used last night?”
Sheriff Saucier has it.”
You have another?”
All types of guns in the house.”
He took her hand in his. Her slim hand was cold from fear. Jon smiled at her. Let’s go inside.”
Inside the huge old plantation house, with its columns and breezeways and continuous wrap-around porch, once over her initial fright at reentering and reliving—if only momentarily and in her mind—the nightmare of the previous night, Linda stood by and watched Jon work. She had shown him her brother’s workshop, and he had busied himself boarding up windows and closing off doors. He removed the outside latticework, making it practically impossible for the Links to climb up to the second floor. He replaced the front door with a door he found in the workshop, then boarded up the part of the double picture window that had been shattered by the thrown shotgun and the angered crazed Link. When he was satisfied he had done all he could do with the materials at hand, he went to the gun cabinet and picked up a snub-nosed .38 for Linda.
He checked it, asking, You’ve fired one of these before?”
Yes, but I prefer that automatic.” She pointed. That one.”
She pointed out a .380 ACP, built on the style of a German Luger. Jon checked it, filled a clip, then filled a spare. He found a holster that would fit the weapon, and a belt. He handed the equipment to her.
From now on,” he told her, this is part of your normal dress. White women in Africa have long grown accustomed to firearms as part of their day-to-day dress. So shall you as long as you live here and the Links have not been contained.”
Yes, sir.” She smiled.
Her smile was not returned. Jon Badon was all business; he was working at his chosen vocation.
Jon prowled through the large gun cabinet, finding an over/under twenty-gauge, then filling a shell-belt. He said, Come on, let’s see what you can do with these weapons.”
She did more than well. She was one of those people who are not at all gunshy: she did not flinch, and she blew hell out of any target Jon pointed out or set up for her. She had been well-trained.
Jon nodded his approval. When you leave the house—for any reason—this over/under goes with you. After you put on your jeans in the morning, the .380, in leather, is the second thing you put on. Both weapons go with you when you leave the house. Before you open the door, front or back, you will check your weapons, make certain they are loaded, and you will take the spare clip and the shell-belt with you. Understand?”
She slowly nodded her understanding, her eyes serious. They’ll be back, won’t they?”
Jon pulled no punches at work. And this was his work. Probably tonight.”
The five oldest males, leaders of their tiny clans, met under a cypress tree, on a blanket of damp moss, to talk of their mutual problem.
A grizzled old male, his chin solid gray, grunted and signaled, I remember my grandfather saying, more than sixty springs ago, that one day this would happen.”
Your grandfather spoke of the madness?”
No, no.” The old Link brushed away the question.
He spoke of the day our way of life would end.”
It has not ended yet,” the youngest of the elders said grimly. And I, for one, will not lie down and let the humans kill me. Not without a fight.”
&nbs
p; A fight is what we are trying to avoid,” he was reminded.
That cannot be.” He was wise, although the youngest. And you all know that is true. I believe that we must decide, at this time, whether we are to live in cages, as the human women have talked of, or whether we will die as free beings, in the place of our birth. Our place.”
I agree with the young one,” one elder spokesman said. If the humans come into our swamp, attempting to destroy us, we must fight.”
We have never made war in all our time,” another Link said. It is against our way. We were all taught that.”
Perhaps the way is against us.”
That is foolish!”
Think about it before you speak!” the old Link snapped angrily. The old ways must go the path of all old and useless things.” He thumped his massive chest, covered with gray pelt. We know we mean no harm to the human people. But they do not know it. Therefore we must find some way to tell them that, as in their race, there are good and bad among us.”
The second elder said, That is true. But of all the snakes in the swamp, only three kinds are dangerous. Yet we have all seen the human men kill snakes that meant them no harm, that were no danger to them. And compared to us, a snake is a thing of beauty to the human men. No ... your words are true, but to put them into action would be impossible. A child might not be afraid of us, but an adult human would point the metal sticks at us—the guns—and kill us.” He rose to his feet. I am returning to my clan. I will not fight.” He sighed heavily. We are only a few days away from the birthing period. And my mate says she feels the child is pure human. If so, then our dying will not be in vain. We will live on through the children. I will not fight,” he repeated.
You are a fool!” the youngest said. I will fight!”
And I will fight!” another said.
The two remaining shook their heads. Each saying in unison, I will not fight.”
The youngest of the leaders stalked away, into the swamp. He did not look back as his ally followed him.
I cannot believe they will help the maddened ones,” a Link said sadly.
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