Rougarou II

by Judith Ann McDowell

  Seelah beamed at him as he continued to hold her. “Just as delirious as yesterday and the day before that and every day since I met you!” she laughed, spreading kisses over his face.

  With little effort, he lifted her forward to place a quick and loving kiss on her rounded stomach. “Daddy’s home.” His face lit up as it always did with this on-going ritual.

  Seelah felt the child leap as though acknowledging his father’s love for him.

  Jack placed her on her feet and turning towards the stove rubbed his own stomach in anticipation. “When’s dinner gonna be ready, baby? I’m a hungry man!”

  “You have just enough time to jump in the shower and get dressed before everyone gets here.” She took the bib-apron off the hook, tied it back around her waist to position it over her short-sleeved red top and black slacks.

  For a moment he stared at her then slapped his forehead. “Oh yeah! Donavan, Barb and Jenny are comin’ tonight!”

  “That’s right, detective.” She took a package of dinner rolls from the freezer, laid them on the counter. “You’ve been with the man all day, how could you forget?”

  The happy moments slid to a halt as the face of Lawrence Hindel jumped into his mind.

  Seelah glanced at him, the small brush she had been using to butter the rolls, still poised in her hand. “Jack, what is it? Did something happen today at the station?”

  “Yeah.” His brows knotted for a brief moment. “We had a surprise visitor this afternoon.”

  “Lawrence Hindel,” she murmured, then dropped the brush into the sink.

  Even after all the time they had been together, he still found it unsettling when she nailed something so accurately without even thinking about it.

  “Yep!” Jack walked past her to open the refrigerator. Leaning in, he withdrew a bottle of beer from the six-pack setting on the shelf. “Breezed into the station to let us know he had returned and to inform us he would not be tolerant of any visitors on his property.” He twisted the top on the bottle, flicked the cap into the trash.

  “I have a feeling you aren’t telling me everything,” she said without turning.

  Jack drew in his breath; let it out to take a long pull off the bottle of beer. “It didn’t amount to much. Not really.” He could feel her waiting for him to finish. “Oh hell! The idiot pissed me off and I jerked him across the desk. No real harm done.”

  “Not yet, anyway.” The words popped into the air before she could stop them.

  He lowered the bottle as she turned to walk to the stove. “What’s that mean? I might have’ta watch my back?”

  “You destroyed his father.” Seelah pulled open the door to the oven and bending over placed the tin of rolls on the top rack. “He will always have it in for you.”

  “I didn’t do it alone.” Jack grinned trying to shrug off the feeling of unease pushing his hunger-pangs off to the side. “Donavan has some rewards comin’ too.”

  “This isn’t a laughing matter, Jack.” She flipped the oven door closed with a bang.

  “What’s the matter?” The unease dug in a little deeper.

  “Lawrence Hindel isn’t the evil man his father turned out to be. By that I mean, he isn’t a monster, but he is still a very disturbed man.”

  “Hell, I could have told you that!” He laughed, swigging the last of his beer. “A person can’t grow up in a household with a father who’s out slaughterin’ people on every full moon and come out sane for Christ’s sake!”

  Sliding her arms around his lean waist she laid her head against his chest. “That’s true. That’s why I want you to be extra careful when you’re around him.”

  “I’ll do my best, baby.” Jack kissed the top of her head, pulled her rounded hips tighter against him.

  The ringing of the doorbell drew them apart. Seelah ran her fingers through her hair, then gave him a gentle shove.

  “You better hurry if you want that shower.” She tried putting a happy smile on her face. When she looked up she knew she hadn’t fooled him about the frightening feelings still running strong through her mind.

  “I think we should try and make this a short evenin’.” Jack turned, tossed the empty bottle into the trashcan. “I don’t know ‘bout you, but I need some T.L.C. tonight.”

  As Jack walked down the hall to the bathroom, Seelah went to the door to welcome their guests. At the sight of her best friends waiting on the small front porch, some of the frightening feelings seemed to lift.

  “Barb,” she cried, spying the cake pan and covered dish. “You didn’t need to bring anything.”

  “I know, but I also know how much you and Jack love my white cake so I whipped one up complete with strawberries,” Barbara Hays laughed moving through the open door.

  Seelah eyed her slim figure clad in tight jeans and a dark green pullover top, then looked away. “If anyone wants a beer, you know where they are. Jenny,” she turned to the dark-haired young girl who stood watching her dad pluck a strawberry from the bowl, “there’s also some coke in there. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Seelah,” she grinned, as her mom slapped his hand then pulled the plastic cover back in place over the bowl to take it to the refrigerator.

  “Where’s the man of the house?” Donavan took the beer Barb handed him.

  “In the shower. He should be out any minute.” Seelah slipped an oven-mitt onto her hand, pulled open the oven door.

  “At least he got one,” Donavan grumbled glancing down at the short-sleeved shirt and slacks he had been wearing all day.

  “Barb, pull out the cutting-board for me, will you?” She turned a pan of golden-brown dinner rolls in her hand.

  Donavan looked around the tidy kitchen, noting the gleaming stove and matching refrigerator with its trail of healthy green ivy falling over the top and down the sides. Barbara glanced at him as she turned towards the sink, her hands filled with the makings for a tossed green salad. He moved out of her way to stand beside a table covered with a dark green linen tablecloth. A vase of fresh-cut red roses and silver candle sticks each holding a dark green taper occupied the center of the table. He recalled Jack telling him about green being Seelah’s favorite color and about it being the color of healing. Donavan recognized the Rose-Print China and silver as the same pattern his grandmother had been so fond of and always brought out on special occasions. The silver had been polished to a bright sheen.

  He felt tempted to give one of the knives a light tap on a goblet, placed just so, to see if crystal did hum when you tapped it. Without being obvious, he hiked the tablecloth to look at the round oak-wood table, with its legs formed in the shape of a lion’s paw. Jack said Seelah refused to give up the table when they sold the house she had been living in when they met. As he dropped the tablecloth back into place he noticed how well the dark green of the linen complemented the light, green and white floor-tiles.

  “Hey! Here he is.” Donavan gestured with his bottle of beer as Jack walked into the kitchen, dressed in a dark blue sports shirt and jeans.

  “Yep!” He dropped a quick kiss on Barb’s head, then pulled Jenny into a bear-hug. “Now the festivities can begin.”

  Jenny squealed with pleasure her dark eyes gazing up at the man holding her close then drew away. “Uncle Jack.” Her voice took on a more serious tone.

  “That’s me!”

  “I have something I want to talk to you and Aunt Seelah about. Something very important.”

  Jack took her arm, turned her in the direction of the table. “If it’s important then by all means let’s hear it!”

  He pulled out a chair for her and then plopped down in the chair next to her, motioning for Seelah to join them.

  “Well…” she gulped, tried again. “Well, you know I’m eleven-years-old now. Might as well say I’m a teenager.” Jenny tugged her red shorts into a more comfortable position, smoothed out her matching red top.

  “That’s true, you are.” Seelah rested her hands on Jenny’s shoulders, already knowing wh
at she wanted to say. “A very mature eleven-year-old, too, I might add.”

  Jack glanced over at her, as Seelah smiled.

  “Okay.” Jenny rubbed her hands together in a brisk manner. “Here goes! Maybe some night, or day, it doesn’t matter…”

  Donavan tipped her face upward. “Sweetheart, why don’t you just come out and say what is on your mind.”

  “I’m trying, Daddy,” she giggled, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

  “I have an idea, Jenny,” Seelah spoke up, “while you’re trying to think what you want to say, your Uncle Jack and I have something we would like to talk with you about.”

  Jack gave her a “what-are-you-talking-about” look, pulled the bottle of beer, Barbara sat before him, over closer.

  “We wondered if, after the baby is some months old, you might like to baby-sit some evening. We would pay you of course and…”

  Jenny jumped to her feet, threw her arms around Seelah’s waist. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” she squealed hopping up and down in her excitement. “And you won’t have to pay me anything! This is so weird!” Her dark eyes moved around the room. “I planned on asking you the same, exact thing!”

  “Wow! Imagine that!” Jack murmured, tipping the bottle of beer to his mouth then coughed spewing beer across the table as Jenny threw her arms around his neck.

  “Good lord, Jenny!” Barbara grabbed a napkin from the table to begin mopping Jack’s face. “You could have choked him!”

  Jack reached out stilling Barbara’s attempts to wipe away the beer. “Thanks anyway, Barb.” He grinned up at her.

  “Sorry, Uncle Jack,” Jenny said, then squealed as he reached out pulling her onto his lap.

  “You didn’t do it on purpose, baby child! But if you ram a bottle down my throat you might end up baby-sittin’ me ‘stead of the baby.”

  “I think everything is ready, so if everyone wants to take a seat we can begin.” Seelah set a bowl of tossed-green-salad down on the table.

  “Sure don’t have to ask us twice! Right, Donavan?” Jack straddled a chair at the end of the table.

  “Nope!” Donavan pulled out a chair for Barbara then walked over to seat Seelah and Jenny.

  “Thank you, Donavan.” Seelah smiled up at him. “Jack is still working on getting the hang of being a gentleman.”

  “Uncle Jack’s a gentleman,” Jennie spoke up on Jack’s behalf. “He just doesn’t stop and think sometimes.”

  “Yeah, like earlier today when Lawrence Hindel came into the station,” Donavan breathed, then realized what he said as he heard the sharp intakes of breath from around the table.

  “Lawrence Hindle’s back in the parish?” Barbara filled the small salad plate, sitting to the left of her plate, placed the salad server back in the bowl. “You didn’t mention anything about it when you came home, Donavan.”

  Donavan felt his stomach tighten as he helped himself to a slice of roast beef from the platter Seelah handed to him. “You know how I feel about bringing my work home.”

  “So he’s back in town.” Jack looked around the table “Who gives a rats…” he swallowed the rest of his sentence as Seelah glanced at him. “Just tryin’ to lighten the mood’s all.” He picked up his fork to begin eating.

  Donavan took a drink of his iced tea giving himself time to think of the words he needed to calm everyone’s fears. “Maybe now that his father’s no longer here to coddle him, he’ll settle down.”

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to say Lawrence could ever be a model citizen, although I do think he will try to keep a low profile. And, if no one tries to antagonize him,” Seelah shot a meaningful look at Jack, “he might leave everyone alone.”

  “I think you make a very valid point, Seelah,” Donavan told her. “And with that said, I suggest we change the subject and just enjoy this fine meal.”

  ***

  Later, after everyone had left, Jack gathered Seelah into his arms. “I’m glad you told Jenny she could baby-sit some evenin’.”

  “Jenny is a responsible girl. She’ll take good care of the baby.” She nestled herself into Jack’s arms.

  Through the sliding-glass door, leading from their bedroom out onto the patio, they could see the full moon. Its silver glow bathed the many potted flowers situated around the edges of the well-manicured lawn.

  Jack heard her deep sigh of contentment and bending his head, placed a kiss on the side of her face. He knew how much she had loved the house she had been living in when they met. But too many memories filled the house for them to ever feel happy living there.

  Seelah was still mourning the death of her first husband when she and Jack met and Jack had been trying to get up from a failed relationship. When they decided they would get married, they went house hunting. The moment they walked into the little house, sitting on a corner lot and a mere block from Barbara and Donavan, they knew they had found the place for them.

  Now in two months, they expected the birth of their first child and they couldn’t be happier.

  ***

  All remained quiet as Seelah left the comforting arms of her husband to walk through the sliding glass door and out onto the patio. A slight breeze blew across her face and she reached up pushing her dark hair back behind each ear, her movements stilted as though everything moved in slow motion. She turned as someone called out to her.

  “Chandra?” she whispered reaching out to take the woman’s hands in hers. “Chandra!”

  Chandra pulled back to look at her. “I thought it best to come to you while you slept.”

  “You’ve come back from the other side to talk with me?”

  “No, Seelah, not from the other side. I have chosen to remain earthbound. I have too much to do yet to go home.”

  “But…I don’t understand. Jack and Donavan told me you burned up in the fire, yet your spirit carries none of the scares of such a death”.

  “I healed my spirit,” she told her, smiling as she glimpsed the disbelieving look crossing Seelah’s face.

  “Simply because my body is dead does not mean my soul has lost any of its psychic abilities. My mind, soul and psychic gifts of healing are as strong as ever.”

  “Where do you stay now that you are no longer in your body?” Seelah could feel herself beginning to shake thinking her friend had no place to go except back to the place where she had died such a horrible and terrifying death.

  “My spirit does not linger in the bayous, Seelah, but in the place where I can do the most good.” She pulled away. “I am here to warn you about staying away from the Hindel Mansion. Do not allow Jack to go there. If he does it could mean his death.”

  Seelah sat upright in the bed her body chilled and damp. Reaching out she ran her hands over Jack’s chest assuring herself of his safety and to make sure he remained lying beside her before easing her head back against the pillow.

  Sleep did not come easy for she knew that for Chandra to come to her she had to be very worried about Jack’s safety. “How sad,” she told herself before closing her eyes once more, “even death cannot silence the love we still hold in our hearts for another.”

  Chapter Two

  Lawrence Hindel walked through the front entrance of the estate, slamming the heavy oak door behind him, his uncontrollable rage right at that moment, in close proximity to that of the man who had sired him.

  “Arrogant son of a bitch!” The venomous words erupted into the silence as the smug face of Jack Olivier’ continued to swirl in the red haze gaining power over his thoughts.

  “How dare he put his filthy hands on me? Me! The son of Jonathan Hindel!” His hands latched onto the lapels of his suit-coat wadding the expensive material in his fists and amidst popping buttons tore it from his body.

  A tall, brown-skinned woman drew back watching the anger spew forth as Lawrence paced the floor of the living room, ripping and tearing at his clothing until he at last stood naked and panting.

  “Father!” Lawrence screamed into the silence, the nails of his long
fingers raking a blood-path down his chest. “I shed the blood of my body for you! For you, I bring forth the taste of sweet wine to satisfy your hunger! Hear me!”

  His thin arms raised in supplication. He fell to his knees, the blood coursing down his chest mixed with the sweat bathing his body.

  The woman stepped forward; reaching out her hand to console his pain, then drew back, knowing he could not feel her touch.

  As the silence in the room deepened, Lawrence raised his head as if waiting for someone to acknowledge his need. At last he stood, the anger still very much a part of him, although he could already feel it beginning to drain away.

  No one came to answer his need except the woman standing by his side, her green eyes filled with helpless torment. She watched him struggle to come to grips with the knowledge that Jonathan Hindel could not protect him anymore.

  Wrapped within his fear he walked over to seat himself on the long, white leather couch, uncaring of the blood dripping down his chest. A slight chill touched him and he pulled the blanket, he had used to cover himself the night before, down from the back of the couch to spread it over his nakedness.

  Alone in the silence his mind slipped back into the past to a time in his childhood.

  The many candles flickering in the darkness bathed the room in a silver glow that seemed to push the gloom, stealing forth from the shadows, to somewhere beyond the beauty of the dancing lights. He had always loved the dancing lights. Their silver glow reminded him of the frozen chips of water he liked to place on his tongue on the hot humid days of summer. He remembered the woman who would come. The beautiful, tall lady with the light brown skin, black hair that always smelled of flowers and the dark green eyes that spoke volumes of love for him.

  Lawrence shook his head dispelling the memory before it had a chance to turn his angry heart into one of childish hope. Hope he could always count on to come crashing down to leave him wallowing in trembling despair.

  The woman felt his pain and her heart went out to him. She wanted nothing more, right at that moment, than to gather him into her arms and comfort him just as she had all those years ago when, as a small boy, he would crawl onto her lap and rest his small head against her breast. A sob crept upward in her throat and knowing no one could hear her she allowed the anguish to continue out into the silence.