Between Dusk and Dawn

by Lynn Emery

  “Good morning. How can I help you?” A fresh faced young woman beamed up at her. Savannah’s new legal secretary had big hazel eyes and bouncy reddish brown curls. Her smile suggested that any legal problem brought to their door could be solved. The name plate on her desk read “Ginger Roberts” in black letters.

  “Hi. Nice to meet you, Ginger. I’m here to see Savannah. LaShaun Rousselle. I don’t have an appointment,” LaShaun added before the young woman could ask.

  “Oh, I see.” Her light brown face grew serious, as though not having an appointment meant LaShaun was in serious trouble. “I’ll check with Mrs. Honoré right now.”

  “Thanks.”

  LaShaun grinned at the way the young legal secretary hustled off. Moments later Savannah led the way back to the lobby. Her secretary blinked rapidly at LaShaun.

  “Good morning,” Savannah smiled. Then she tilted her head to one side. “I hope this is purely a social visit.”

  LaShaun laughed. “It is, I promise.”

  Savannah grinned back and walked to her office. “Okay, then you can come on in. Otherwise I was going to send you over to my friend in Lafayette Parish. I can’t take another action-packed episode in the life of LaShaun Rousselle.”

  “Hey, I’m not the only source of turmoil around here,” LaShaun tossed back, and sank down in a comfortable leather chair in the seating area.

  Savannah brought out a box of donuts, and then poured coffee in two mugs. She sat across from LaShaun in a matching chair and propped her feet on the seat of a third one.

  “I’m not going to comment, except to say you provide the most interesting commotions at least. None of this routine, penny ante trouble. Why can’t people manage their lives a little neater?” Savannah bit into a donut and chewed for a few moments. “I mean, is that too much to ask?”

  LaShaun selected one of the glazed treats that had a filling. “Apparently the answer is yes. Life is messy.”

  “Oh well, I could have stuck to marine law, and mineral and oil rights practice. But I wanted the human side of law.” Savannah sipped from her mug.

  “Be careful going after what you want, as the old saying goes.” LaShaun gave her shoulder a pat and laughed at the scowl on her friend’s face. “Speaking of messy lives, Miss Clo came to see me. For once, somebody other than me is being accused of putting bad gris-gris on folks.”

  “Humph, that’s small town Louisiana for ya. Your neighbor trips and breaks a toe after y’all get into a fuss, and bam! You must be burning black candles on ‘em. It’ll blow over soon enough.”

  “Like it blew over with me, you mean?” LaShaun looked at her.

  “You have a point. So Miss Clo came to consult our local expert in the dark arts, eh?” Savannah smothered a laugh when LaShaun’s eyes narrowed to slits.

  “Funny. What have you heard about Patsy Boutin? She’s younger than us, right?” LaShaun asked as she licked icing from her fingers, then grabbed a napkin and wiped her hands.

  “Yeah, about twenty-four. Patsy was in school with one of my cousins on mama’s side. She married her high school sweetheart. Vic ignored all the talk, and his mama’s advice, and marched down the aisle with her anyway.”

  “What talk?” LaShaun said.

  “Patsy’s hobby is collecting male admirers. Rumor has it her current back door man is a handsome fella who moved here three years ago; a very married handsome fella.” Savannah carefully selected a second donut and sat back in her chair. “Not that I’m one to spread gossip, you understand.”

  “Oh, of course not; you’re simply sharing insights into human nature,” LaShaun tossed back with a chuckle.

  “Very important in my profession,” Savannah said and grinned back at her. “I’m guessing you already know he finally got fed up and walked out on her.”

  “All a big misunderstanding according to Miss Clo,” LaShaun said and frowned. “And she’s not some gullible little old lady either.”

  “So somebody is saying she’s sneaking around because somebody put a spell on her?” Savannah let out a sharp laugh. “Yeah, some hunky man with a nice package in his tight jeans.”

  “If your daddy and aunt could hear such earthy talk,” LaShaun shot back. Then she tapped her fingers on the table top. “I’m totally sympathetic to a woman who’s the subject of lurid gossip about her romantic life.”

  “I remember the big scandal when a local high school coach got caught with Patsy parked on a secluded country road in the back of his SUV. They weren’t discussing sports. Lucky for him, she’d turned eighteen the week before. Instead of a jail sentence all he got was suspended from his job for the school year, and a cast iron skillet aimed at his head when he got home. He survived, and so did his marriage, but just barely in both cases. He walked around with stitches on his scalp like he was wearing a big letter ‘A’ for adulterer.”

  “You just made my life simple again. I’m eternally grateful. I can go back to my quiet bayou country existence,” LaShaun said as she got up to refresh her mug of coffee.

  “Glad I could help. But like you said, Miss Clo is pretty sharp. If she’s sensing something is up, keep your eyes and your mind open,” Savannah replied.

  “I will. Your new secretary seems very efficient.” LaShaun sat down again.

  “A little wide-eyed and innocent, but we’ll put an end to that with a few sordid small town scandals,” Savannah quipped. “She just moved here from Indiana with her husband. He’s an instructor at the University of Lafayette. She needed extra money, and my paralegal left for bigger things.”

  “Sounds good.” LaShaun was about to go on when Ginger knocked on the door and came in.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s a call from the sheriff’s station. Detective Broussard is on line two.” Ginger’s eyes were wide, proving Savannah’s description as accurate.

  “Thanks, Ginger.” After Ginger left Savannah glanced at LaShaun. “Your sweetie tracked you down, girl. Must be checking in to see if he needs to pick up milk or something before he comes home.”

  “Number one, no man keeps tabs on me. Number two, if he did I’d make him regret it and number three, we’re not playing house,” LaShaun shot back.

  “Whatever,” Savannah replied with an impish grin. She went to the phone and picked up the cordless handset. “Hello officer. You’re right on time. Oh, you really need to talk to me. Never mind, what’s up?” She listened for a few minutes before she grabbed a legal pad and wrote notes. “Right, I can be there in a few minutes. I don’t have any appointments until after lunch. Got it. And don’t answer anymore questions.” She hung up, stood and grabbed her leather satchel that functioned as a brief case and purse.

  “Is Chase okay?” LaShaun’s heart started to hammer in her chest. “Why would he need a lawyer?”

  Savannah checked to make sure her supplies were in the satchel. “Those instructions weren’t for Chase. He put his suspect on the phone.”

  “Enjoy the more human side of the legal profession,” LaShaun joked as she walked out with her. “I’m going back to simple stuff, like picking up some fresh vegetables from the Farmers Market.”

  “Don’t get too comfy. I have a feeling you’re going to get a call from Miss Clo before Thursday. Vic just got arrested for trying to kill Patsy, but he’s claiming it was self-defense.”

  It was LaShaun’s turn to stare at Savannah with wide eyes. “Oh hell.”

  “And her daddy is at the station demanding a few minutes alone with Vic to beat some answers out of him. Patsy has gone missing.” Savannah pushed through the front door. “Just watch the evening news tonight. I’m sure you’ll hear more.”

  “Oh double hell.” LaShaun planted her fists on her hips as she watched Savannah get in her car and drive off.

  Chapter 3

  Two days later the weather was just as lovely as the day before; a perfect Friday to cheer up all working people. Noon day sunshine painted the landscape and made colors look brighter against the clear blue sky. LaShaun loo
ked forward to the weekend. Chase had three straight days off after working long hours all week. They planned to shut out the ugliness of the past five days. But instead of thinking TGIF, LaShaun was entertaining potential trouble in the form of two country ladies. Miss Clo had shown up after calling early in the morning again. This time she’d managed to drag Joyelle along. LaShaun went back into the front parlor where her grandmother had entertained for three and half decades. When she walked in balancing the painted wood tray the two women stopped their intense whispered conversation.

  “Here we are, ladies, tea with a touch of mint.” LaShaun smiled at Joyelle to put her at ease. The taut smile in return said she needed a lot more convincing.

  “Thank you, baby.” Miss Clo picked up the tall glass and drank. “Hmm, delicious and just sweet enough.” She nudged Joyelle.

  Seeing her friend had no ill effects, Joyelle cautiously raised the glass to her mouth and sipped. “Yes, it’s very good.”

  “Thank you. Now what can I do for you ladies today?”

  Miss Clo and Joyelle exchanged a glance. Miss Clo cleared her throat, sipped some tea and put down the glass. “You remember I came to you a few days ago about strange happenings, and Joyelle seeing some of her clients.”

  “Yes.” LaShaun raised an eyebrow.

  “I don’t care what nobody says, Vic didn’t hurt Patsy,” Joyelle blurted out. Then she pressed her lips together as if working to keep more words from escaping.

  “Okay.” LaShaun sat back in chair startled, and unable to think of any other response. She looked to Miss Clo for some coherent explanation.

  “That body wasn’t even Patsy, and they still don’t know who she is. Was,” Miss Clo added with a wince. “May the Lord give the poor soul sweet rest.”

  “Amen,” Joyelle said softly.

  “Yes, I saw the news reports.” LaShaun nodded.

  According to KATC, the Lafayette television station they picked up in Vermillion Parish, no one had come forward to identify a dead woman. Found in a swamp, she didn’t fit any of the missing persons reported in either Vermillion or Lafayette Parishes. Chase had told her there really was nothing else that the department was withholding.

  “It means Vic didn’t kill Patsy,” Joyelle said, this time with less force. She seemed to have relaxed a little.

  “Well, it means no one knows where she is. She could still be alive,” LaShaun said carefully.

  “Plus thatTommyDaigle is missing. Did they run off together, LaShaun?” Miss Clo leaned forward as though LaShaun would go into a trance and solve the mystery.

  “Seems likely, huh?” Joyelle stared at LaShaun as well.

  LaShaun smiled. “There is nothing supernatural about two cheating people high-tailing it out of town together; which brings me back to Patsy going out at night.”

  “And having amnesia, don’t forget that part,” Joyelle cut in. “I knew Patsy’s reputation, so I was gonna tell Vic to get some sense. But then I talked to her, looked into her eyes. Something ain’t right with the girl.”

  “I believe most folks would agree. Let’s just say Patsy has a problem with faithfulness,” LaShaun replied.

  “I wouldn’t argue with one thing you’re saying,” Joyelle said with a firm nod. “I told Vic instead of me he needed to see one of them marriage counselors.”

  “Or a lawyer about a divorce. Reverend Fletcher should be preaching to those two instead of going after good people. Vic ain’t no angel by a long shot,” Miss Clo said and gave a grunt to punctuate her opinion.

  “Really?” LaShaun became even more convinced no psychic abilities were needed figure this one out.

  “The ones we really feel sorry for are their two little girls. Poor babies are caught up in Sodom and Gomorrah,” Miss Clo replied. “Lord only knows what they seen and heard in that house.”

  “Bless their sweet little hearts,” Joyelle added.

  “This all sounds very interesting, but I don’t know why you’re here talking to me.” LaShaun shrugged.

  This time both women cleared their throats. Miss Clo nudged her friend with an elbow. Joyelle blinked back at her and remained silent. Then she studied some far off point visible through the window facing the sofa where she sat. Miss Clo heaved an annoyed sigh.

  “Joyelle ain’t only talkin’ about Patsy. I told you about the little boy. There were two others who had the same problem. They all was disappearing at night, and would come home looking like they’d been running in the woods all night.” Miss Clo nudged her friend again, this time harder.

  Joyelle twisted her hands together. “I just thought at first it was some kind of strange sickness I never seen before. But after a while I thought... maybe somebody put something on these folks.”

  “You mean voodoo,” LaShaun said out loud what they kept hinting around. Both women flinched, and then nodded in unison.

  “I got a bad feeling about it all,” Joyelle replied barely above a whisper.

  “The facts don’t point to anything strange. Since Patsy’s lover happens to be missing now, I’d say you don’t need to worry.” LaShaun picked up the small plate. “Have a spicy cheese puff.”

  “No thank you.” Miss Clo waved away the offer while her friend shook her head. “LaShaun, you haven’t been listening with your full attention. You got to look past the surface here. There is a pattern.”

  “A dark, dangerous pattern,” Joyelle added leaning forward for emphasis. “In the last year six peoples come to me, mais yeah. They all got the same kind of sickness. Finally with a lady over in Iberia Parish, I went one morning to see her. Her mama said she’d been out all night. Her eyes were red and wild, and she couldn’t say where she’d been or what she’d been doing. She was covered with scratches.”

  “Tell her about the marks,” Miss Clo said.

  Joyelle put a hand to her mouth then lowered it. “She had bite marks on her neck.”

  LaShaun looked from her to Miss Clo and back again. “Bite marks?”

  “Looked like something had just been nipping at her like, not deep wounds. Some barely broke the skin. God protect us,” Joyelle said quietly. “I really think there is some kinda evil movin’ through the land.”

  “Sounds more like hickeys. Her boyfriend got a little too affectionate.” LaShaun grinned at them hoping to lighten the mood. The two women stared back at her.

  “This ain’t a jokin’ matter, young lady,” Miss Clo said.

  “Yes, ma’am. Sorry. Tell me a more about these symptoms you’ve observed.” LaShaun put on a serious expression.

  “All of ‘em have memory loss. Two of them had bad dreams that they was runnin’ through the woods after something or somebody.” Joyelle stopped and looked at Miss Clo.

  “Go on, tell it all.” Miss Clo nodded. She looked at LaShaun. “This part we haven’t told anybody.”

  LaShaun felt an uneasy prickle along her arms. “Okay.”

  “I said it was six in the last year, but back in 2007 I had another case. I didn’t think about it until all this started happenin’.” Joyelle closed her eyes for a few seconds and then opened them again. “Manny Young came to see me, actually his grandmama brought him. He was runnin’ wild. Ms. Flora Lee wanted me to pray over the boy.” She stopped again. Her hands trembled in her lap.

  Miss Clo put a hand on her shoulder. “You heard about Manny Young?”

  “Yeah,” was all LaShaun could manage from her now dust dry throat.

  The entire country had heard about Emanuel “Manny” Young, the Blood River Ripper as some creative reporter had named him. Seven young women and five men had been found ripped apart, their body parts scattered in the prairies across three parishes. His lawyer had successfully put on an insanity defense. Manny was convicted in 2010, but in an unusual move, the judge ordered that he be committed to the Feliciana Forensic Hospital. The court found that he needed treatment. When he became mentally stable, he’d be sent to Angola State Penitentiary’s death row.

  “Manny was doin’ the sa
me thing. Goin’ out at night, comin’ back in looking all wild and crazy. He’d get drunk, like his daddy, and get into trouble.” Joyelle drew in a deep breath and let it out.

  “His mama took off when he was a baby,” Miss Clo put in.

  “They started finding the bodies in April 2008. Flora Lee should have come to see me early on, though I’m not sure it would have helped.” Joyelle picked up her glass, emptied it with one deep gulp and then put it back down.

  “His granddaddy said he’d grow out of it,” Miss Clo said.

  “I tried prayin’ for him, but he got a little crazy and tore outta my house.” Joyelle gave a shudder. “The look in his eyes was terrible. A month later they found the next body, and another, and another.”

  “All of the women had a history of arrests for drugs and prostitution, so did the men,” LaShaun murmured as the details she’d read when she lived in Los Angeles came back to her.

  “Some came from out of New Orleans after Katrina,” Miss Clo said. Everyone in Louisiana referred to the horrendous Hurricane Katrina by one name. The 2005 storm had killed hundreds, and changed New Orleans forever.

  “So folks from around here just assumed it was all drug related, some gang or something.” Joyelle seemed to age as she thought about the grisly events. Then she looked at LaShaun.

  “If you read about it, then you know they finally found Manny’s DNA on three of the bodies.” Miss Clo continued to pat her friend’s shoulder.