Between Dusk and Dawn

by Lynn Emery

  “There is always hope and forgiveness. Remember the prayer,” LaShaun said quietly. She still held his hand.

  “You think so?” Willie’s gaze pleaded for reassurance.

  “I know it,” LaShaun said without hesitation.

  Willie let go of a long sigh, and more tears came. Then he swallowed hard. “I’ve done a lot of bad stuff, knifed a guy once in a fight on Bourbon Street in New Orleans. I killed another dude in self-defense. Then there was lots of women, not all of them were willing. You know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, we know,” Chase clipped, an expression of disgust stamping his face into a grimace. His mouth clamped shut at the look M.J. gave him.

  Willie’s gaze flickered past LaShaun to where Chase and M.J. stood. “I deserve to suffer. High on drink and drugs, I got myself into some real bad company. At first I just thought we was partyin’ hard. I should have stopped when some of the others started roughin’ up folks off the street. But I was sweatin’ to get next to Emelda. That girl could drive a guy crazy swingin’ those hips when she danced.”

  “What’s her last name?” LaShaun said softly.

  “Good,” Chase whispered so low his voice barely made a sound.

  “I don’t know. Said she grew up in Grand Coteau . Got tired of the small town scene. What a hot good-looker.” Willie smiled. For a moment he looked like a normal man remembering sensuous good times. “She took to me. Well, I had some money at the time. But still...”

  “You had fun at first,” LaShaun prodded to pull him back from memories of the woman.

  “My mama used to tell me the fun wouldn’t last, and she was right. Emelda bit me one night while we was makin’ love, I didn’t think nothin’ of it. I mean that girl had some crazy moves. Oh Lord, have mercy.” Willie started breathe heavy.

  “Damn, that was some kinda woman,” the male nurse mumbled and wiped sweat from his forehead.

  “You right about that, sick as he is just talking about her gets him hot,” his colleague replied with a leer.

  LaShaun ignored the urge to slap sense into them. They were the kind of men who, like Willie, would be seduced into trouble that would suck them dry. Evil knew exactly how to appeal to the flesh, as she could bear witness to from her own weaknesses in the past. She gestured to Chase and M.J., and they drew closer.

  “You better clear the room,” LaShaun said.

  M.J. studied LaShaun’s expression for a few seconds then nodded. She turned to the charge nurse. “I’m gonna ask y’all to step outside during our interview with Mr. Dupuis. He may be about to give us sensitive information related to an on-going investigation.”

  Nurse Jones blinked rapidly. “Uh, but he might get upset and need medical attention. Or what if he gets aggressive again?”

  “We’ll call you.” M.J. waved the three hospital employees toward the door. “Just stand by.”

  The two nurses looked disappointed, but the aide beat them getting out the door. LaShaun continued to hold Willie’s hand. The latex glove annoyed her. She knew the sickness eating at Willie Dupuis wasn’t contagious.

  M.J. pulled the deputy posted outside into the room. “Don’t let anyone come in until I say so.”

  “You got it,” the young man replied and went back to the hallway. The door whisked shut blocking out the hum of voices.

  M.J. heaved a deep breath and positioned herself at the foot of the bed. Chase moved closer to LaShaun. Both of them watched the sick man closely. LaShaun patted Willie’s hand, a sign of reassurance and that he should continue his account.

  “I got the fever first, that’s what me and a couple of guys I was in jail with called it. I was used to havin’ blackouts because of the drinkin’ and drugs. That didn’t seem unusual. I’d wake up with blood on my shirt. Just a few spots. I thought, damn, we must have gotten into some good fights. But one night I had had blood in my mouth, on my face, and even in my shoes.” Willie shivered.

  LaShaun pulled the blanket up to his chin. “It’s all over now. But you need to tell us.”

  “Emelda loved it. I’ve seen some crazy stuff in my time, but I never saw somebody’s eyes light up like hers would.” Willie gulped in air and continued. “One night I didn’t drink as much as usual. The party got started the same way, but then Emelda and the others changed.”

  He gripped LaShaun’s hand tighter. When Chase started toward her LaShaun firmly shook her head to stop him. “It’s okay,” she whispered.

  Willie’s eyes were wide and glassy when he turned his head sharply to look at LaShaun. “The horror movie turned real. Their faces got long, and at first I thought my eyes was playin’ tricks on me cause their skin turned dark. But it was hair growin’ on ‘em; right before my eyes. Then my jaws popped and I felt pressure on my neck. I was sittin’ next to a window in that old shack we had out in the woods. My face was changin’ the same way. Lord, help me. I didn’t know.” He stopped and whimpered for a few moments.

  “Of course not. Even with all you’d done you would never have chosen to go that way,” LaShaun said.

  “Emelda came over and got on my lap, and then we had some of the wildest kind of sex. The others got to it, too. Six men and four women switched up partners like it was nothin’. When it was all over I thought it was my imagination. Besides that, Emelda had me by the balls. Pardon my language, miss.”

  “No problem,” LaShaun replied, and glanced at Chase.

  “I loved every minute of being with that girl. It was a high better than anything. We called ourselves ‘The Pack’. The leader, this older guy, kept us in liquor and drugs. And fresh girls. Some would leave. At least I thought they would leave. I found out different later, when we killed one of girls; a hooker from Baton Rouge.” Willie gazed at LaShaun as if asking if he had to tell it. When she nodded a tear slid down his cheek.

  “We dragged her out to the woods I thought for more fun. After the older guy had her one last time he clawed her back. She started screaming about calling the police.” Willie let go of LaShaun’s hand. His skin turned grayer. “The leader gave a signal and... they ripped her to pieces. Blood and body parts was all over.”

  “My God,” M.J. whispered.

  “A few hours later we all woke up on the ground. We threw the parts into the swamp way out near the parish line.” Willie’s voice sounded empty of all emotion. “No use lookin’ for it. I’m sure between the gators, turtles and fish ain’t much left. Besides, I’m not sure exactly where we tossed her, or what was left of her. The old guy knew the back roads, and he did the drivin’.”

  “Give the officers a general idea maybe,” LaShaun spoke gently to him though inside she recoiled in revulsion.

  “I wasn’t too clear-headed, and I’m not from around here.” Willie squeezed his eyes shut. “Not much I wanna remember, but I can’t get the pictures out of my head. Things didn’t get much better from there. Tell him to help me. Please.”

  LaShaun moved closer to the hospital bed. “Tell who, Willie?”

  “I don’t know why he got me into this mess. Even my mama could smell the demon in me, told me to leave and not come back. With all I’d done mama had never said that to me. I’ve got no home now in this world even if I was to live. I don’t wanna burn in hell.” Willie strained forward and grabbed LaShaun’s arm in a tight grip. He started shivering and coughed so hard pinkish spittle dripped from one corner of his mouth.

  “Let go of her.” Chase stepped between Willie and LaShaun, and worked to pry the man’s hand loose.

  “Calm down and give me a name,” LaShaun said, but her words were drowned out.

  The male nurse, male aide and young deputy rushed into the room with the charge nurse right behind. They helped Chase push Willie back onto the pillows. The nurse already had a syringe of medicine on a tray. The charge nurse briskly barked orders for the deputies and LaShaun to back away. Willie lay shaking, tears leaking from his eyes. He called out to God and his mother to forgive him. Two or three minutes later he slipped into a drug induced slee
p. Nurse Jones disposed of the syringe in the sharps container attached to the wall, and stripped off her latex gloves. She stuffed them into another trash can with special markings and then went into the bathroom to wash her hands. Seconds later she came.

  “Dr. Oliver is coming, and he’s not happy,” Nurse Jones said, and raised an eyebrow at M.J.

  As if on cue the door opened. A short thin man with red hair entered. He went straight to the bed to stare down at Willie. Then he got gloves from a box on the table, put them one and examined him. He lifted his eyelids and put a stethoscope to Willie’s chest.

  “I need everyone who isn’t medical staff out. Now.” Dr. Oliver said without looking at them.

  “Of course,” M.J. replied.

  Chase, the deputy and LaShaun followed M.J. as she left the hospital room. LaShaun glanced over her shoulder once. Willie’s eyes fluttered open and his lips moved. He seemed to be fighting the drug to keep talking. His message came through loud and clear to LaShaun, and the sensation caused her stomach to lurch. She stumbled against the young deputy who caught her.

  “You okay, ma’am?”

  Chase put a protective arm around her. “Get a glass of water, please.”

  “Sure.” The deputy looked at them curiously as he walked down the hallway.

  When the deputy returned, M.J. took the small plastic cup from him and sent him back to stand outside Willie’s room. “You look shook up bad.”

  “I’m okay.” LaShaun said. She accepted the cup and took a few sips.

  “Let’s go down there.”

  M.J. pointed to the end of the hall past the two empty rooms. They moved farther away from Willie’s room and the deputy. A large window faced one of the parking lots. Beyond the pavement and circles of white light from large lamp poles trees seemed to hover like giants in the dark. LaShaun crossed her arms to ward off the cold she felt.

  “What just happened?” M.J. looked to LaShaun for answers.

  “Willie Dupuis seems to think LaShaun can help him get absolution.” Chase rubbed his jaw.

  “That makes no sense. He should have asked for a priest.” M.J. continued to stare at LaShaun. “But instead he asked for you.”

  “She doesn’t know anything about...” Chase stopped when LaShaun gave him a look.

  “You’re right, M.J. It’s weird that he asked for me, but I’ve never met him before.” LaShaun returned her gaze. “I don’t like it anymore than you do.”

  “Then what the hell are we dealing with?” M.J. broke off when Dr. Oliver strode toward them.

  “Don’t upset my patient again.” Dr. Oliver jammed his fists on his narrow hips.

  “He asked to talk to us, and we’ve got a murder investigation to conduct. He’s the main suspect,” Chase said.

  Dr. Oliver wore a grim expression. “Well I doubt he’ll make it to a trial, or even out of this hospital. We tried strong antibiotics, but I’m afraid he’s got a resistant bug.”

  “A strange infection is what the charge nurse said,” M.J. replied.

  “Strange is right. His grayish skin looks like silver poisoning, which is something I’ve never seen before. But it’s rarely fatal, even if the patient has ingested large quantities.” Dr. Oliver sighed.

  “Why would people swallow silver?” M.J. asked.

  “Folks have used silver for generations for various home remedies, despite medical advice to the contrary. But he didn’t know what I was talking about when I asked. Even that doesn’t cause his symptoms: fever, blisters, and that wound on his left leg won’t heal. In fact it’s getting worse, like the flesh is just rotting away.” Dr. Oliver sighed. “Mr. Dupuis gave us next of kin contact information. His mother hung up on the hospital social worker after saying she didn’t even want to speak his name. So Willie gave me permission to talk to you three about his treatment. If we don’t figure out what he’s got and how to treat it he’ll take his secrets to the grave.”

  “Thanks for the information, doc. We talk to you first before we question him again,” M.J. said.

  “I wouldn’t count on that. He’s slipped into a semi-comatose state. I hope you got something helpful tonight.” Dr Oliver gave M.J. a handshake, nodded to Chase and LaShaun and walked away.

  “Sorry I couldn’t get more information from him,” LaShaun said.

  “You did good,” Chase replied. “You sure he didn’t scratch you?”

  “No, but it wouldn’t matter if he did.” LaShaun cleared her throat, but decided not to say anymore in front of M.J. “We need to find out who Willie was talking about, the guy that got him into the ‘pack’. And the one he begged me to find.”

  “We know exactly who he is and where to find him,” M.J. said. Her dark eyebrows pulled together to give her a seriously troubled expression.

  “Yeah, and we don’t have to worry about him going anywhere either,” Chase added. “He’s talking about his cell mate back in 2002 at the Lafayette Parish Jail.”

  LaShaun felt the rise of bile in the back of her throat. She swallowed more of the now tepid water in the plastic cup still in her hand. Then she looked at Chase.

  “The Blood River Ripper was Willie’s old pal,” M.J. said quietly.

  An hour later LaShaun was home. Chase checked her locks and security system thoroughly as she filled a kettle for hot tea. She’d tried to assure him there was no danger, but he made his rounds anyway. His cell phone rang twice as he did so. His muffled voice sounded clipped and to the point. When Chase returned to the kitchen he sighed.

  “I’ve got to go, still on duty. But I hate leaving you alone.” As he spoke, Chase strode to the window and looked out into the dark.

  “I’m fine. Besides, I have it on good authority that Mr. Marchand and his son are keeping a sharp eye out. They’ve got rifles and know how to use them.” LaShaun joined him at the window and pulled him away. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  Chase kissed her. “No going out to investigate strange noises or opening the door to late night visitors. Do it for my peace of mind.”

  “I’ll follow your orders, sir.” LaShaun planted a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Now go catch some bad guys.”

  Once alone LaShaun read through her family journal again. After a few minutes of reading she put it aside and did an internet search. She found the right company and clicked on the button to order the specialty ammunition, silver bullets for Chase and silver pellets for her shotgun.

  Chapter 11

  The next evening LaShaun’s had dinner alone for the third straight night. Chase was working long hours, barely taking time to eat and sleep for a few hours. So she ate from a tray sitting on the sofa with only the television for company, not that she paid much attention to it. An old black and white zombie movie from the fifties played in the background. She laughed at the bad acting and an even worse story line. Her phone rang, and she picked up the cordless handset at the same time she hit the mute button on the TV remote.

  “You better turn to Channel Six,” Pete said without pausing for usual chit-chat.

  “Good evening to you, too,” LaShaun retorted. “Yes, I’m feeling fine and yourself?”

  “Sorry. My Yankee directness comes back even after living in the south for eleven years,” Pete said.

  “You know we don’t get to the point until we’ve rambled on for at least ten minutes,” LaShaun quipped as she hit the button to bring up the local station. Her amusement evaporated when she saw James Schaffer and Reverend Fletcher on the local Fox affiliate.

  Schaffer wore a black turtleneck, black jacket and sunglasses. Seated across from him was Reverend Fletcher. “So you believe that demonic forces are in Beau Chene? This is such a beautiful bucolic place. Amid the magnolia trees and Spanish moss draped oaks bathed in fall sunshine, it’s hard to believe evil lurks here.”

  “Give me a break,” LaShaun muttered.

  “Look at Fletcher. He’s trying to figure out what bucolic means,” Pete said with a snort.

  Indeed the preacher st
ammered for a few moments. He soon found his footing by honing in on the words he did understand. “Satan uses beauty to seduce those who aren’t on guard to his cunning ways. Look in the Bible. There are so many instances of lovely women pulling men to their doom.”

  LaShaun flinched as if he’d aimed a direct hit at her and Chase. “I’d like to pull him into something unpleasant.”

  “Well, thank you for that insightful discussion. Reverend Fletcher.” Schaffer turned in his chair as the camera moved in to show only him. “The story in this pretty little bayou town continues to get more and more extraordinary. Residents are buzzing about late night visits to interview a suspect rumored to be possessed, and another shocking murder has occurred. The local sheriff seems overwhelmed by the bizarre events. Our Ghost Team will have all of the shocking details in our next episode. We’ll wrap after the break.”

  “What a ham,” Pete blurted out.

  “Yeah, but sounds like Schaffer knows about Willie Dupuis.” LaShaun looked at the television screen without really seeing the next commercial about a local bank.

  “Willie who?” Pete asked.

  “The guy they found not far from my property, with the dead woman.” LaShaun sat down on the edge of the sofa.

  “I’m not surprised he’s found folks willing to flap their lips,” Pete said.

  “Yes, but certain parties were supposed to keep quiet.” LaShaun shook her head.

  “When money starts talking, people start talking back. Guess we better tune in next week to see what Schaffer had to say. Maybe he’s just blowing hot air for ratings, and he doesn’t really know anything. Don’t let it bother you. Call if you need any more research. And do keep me informed of anything you find out.”

  “Yeah, right,” LaShaun mumbled and hit the off button.

  Her appetite was gone, so LaShaun put away the remains of her dinner of Cornish hen, green beans and dirty rice. She was still wired about the Ghost Team interview two hours later when Chase showed up at her kitchen door. His morose expression meant she didn’t have to ask how his day had gone. They kissed, and he trudged off to wash up while LaShaun heated up a plate of food for him. When he came back they exchanged small talk as he ate. LaShaun gave him space to wind down from work. In between bites of food Chase read text messages a few times. Finally LaShaun rubbed his shoulders.