by ANDREA SMITH
"That's not a fair question Tylar given what I know now I cannot answer it objectively, I'm sorry."
"One final question Dad. Did your marriage to Olivia boost your appointment to the federal bench?"
He looked at me and was clearly bothered by the content of my question.
"In all truthfulness Tylar, I have to say that having the backing of such a powerful and prestigious family as my wife's certainly didn't hurt. Was that my sole purpose in marrying her? I can honestly say that it was not."
I looked at him for several moments; I assessed what I saw and what my instincts so far in life had taught me. I believed him.
CHAPTER 44
The drive to Vidalia took less than two hours. My dad had arranged for a limo to take us. Preston was kept entertained by the assortment of toys we had brought along with us. I had fed her before we left in hopes that she wouldn't start her 'num-numming' on the road. I wouldn't have been comfortable nursing her around my father.
Vidalia was a small town with less than five thousand residents. It was quaint and had an attractive river walk along the banks of the Mississippi river. The sign that welcomed travelers into town boasted Vidalia as being the 'sister' city of Natchez, Mississippi directly across the river.
Miss Trinity LaFleur owned a shop in the small downtown area. It was located in an old brick building on the end of the main thoroughfare. My father opened the door of the shop for me and a bell overhead tinkled our entrance.
The shop was not well-lit and had a musty smell to it. The shelving that adorned all of the walls displayed a variety of homemade pottery in various shapes and sizes. They were hand-painted with exquisite landscaped scenes of the river and the town itself. There were glass cases that held a variety of small potted herb plants; various seed mixtures were bagged and labeled. There were books for herbal remedies and holistic healing.
"A little bit of everything it appears," my father commented as we headed to the back of the store.
The aisles were narrow so my main concern was keeping Preston from reaching out to touch the colorful pottery.
A door from behind the glass counter creaked open and a light-skinned black woman appeared.
"May I help you?"
"Are you Miss LaFleur?" my father asked.
"We are expected."
"Oh yes," she replied with a faint smile. "Judge Tylar and Mrs. Sinclair, please come around through here. Trinity is in the parlor."
We followed her down a hallway and entered the room she had gestured to us. She closed the door behind us going back to the storefront.
Miss Trinity LaFleur was not as I had expected. She appeared to be in her early forties which would have made her fairly young at the time of my birth. She was of Creole dissent; dark eyes, hair and creamy pale skin. Her ear lobes boasted multiple piercings from which a variety of long, dangling earrings danced about sounding musical. She had a very exotic look about her.
She came toward us and I noticed she was dressed in an ankle-length silk caftan. She wore socks underneath her laced up leather sandals. Her focus was immediately turned to me as I clutched the baby close.
"You have the essence of Marla," she stated simply taking my free hand into hers.
"It was there at your birth and it still remains."
I wasn't sure exactly what that meant but I decided to take it as a compliment.
"Thank you Miss LaFleur."
"Please call me Trinity. Your mama and I were once very close. We remain close in the spirit world. I assisted in your birthing more than twenty years past. You were born behind a veil. That is always a good sign."
She turned her attention to my father, extending her hand in greeting.
"Judge Tylar," she said, "It is nice to put a face to the voice on the phone. Both of you please sit down."
We did as instructed my father taking a seat in an over-stuffed floral chair; Preston and I sitting on the matching settee. Trinity took her seat beside us.
"Trinity," I said, "Can you explain what you meant by my being born 'behind a veil?' I have no point of reference on that."
She smiled, nodding her head at my confusion.
"Technically you were born with a caul attached to your face. It is a very rare but mystical occurrence. Don't be alarmed by the sound of it please. It is nothing more than part of the amniotic membrane that breaks away and forms tightly against the head during the birthing process. It appears like a translucent veil covering the baby's face."
It sounded totally gross to me and Trinity read my reaction.
"Trust me mon cher' - it is indeed something to be proud of because it does offer some mystical and magical elements. Tell me that you have not had good fortune in your life?"
I thought about it and it was true. I had had the good fortune of loving and being loved by Trey; blessed with a beautiful baby and finally locating my father. But at what cost to my mother?
"I've been blessed in many ways Trinity that is true but never knowing my mother or what happened to her haunts me now."
"Ah yes mon cher and that is what brought you to me. Things unfolded the way that they did for a reason. Do not believe that it is pure coincidence that you and your father sit before me now. There is a purpose to all of this. It is the finishing of the story and proper punishment for the guilty."
Preston was enamored with her soft, melodic voice as was I. She watched the dangling earrings and I shifted her on my lap afraid she might reach over to pull on them as she sometimes did with mine.
Trinity turned her attention to Preston who had begun squirming in my arms wanting free reign.
"And who is ce bel enfant?"
"This is my daughter Preston."
"A very exquisite child," she commented, "I see you are a very proud mama and dare I say the judge is a very proud grand-pere?"
"Je suis effectivement cela," my father responded in perfect French.
I took that as a 'yes' being that I couldn't speak French.
My father took Preston from me allowing me to present Trinity with the plastic bag that held the key and the note that I had found hidden in the jewelry box.
She accepted it from me and read the brief note instructing her to give the envelope to Maggie. Her face grew dark with something that felt like anger.
"I told Marla not to trust that sister of hers! I knew that in the end, Maggie would not cross Matthew."
She shook her head in sorrow.
"If she had only done what Marla requested of her when she knew she was dying perhaps the monster would be behind bars right now."
"He is," my father replied, bouncing Preston on his knee.
Trinity's head snapped up in surprise.
"Then evidence has surfaced about his involvement in Marla's death?"
"I'm afraid not," my father replied.
"He's been arrested on unrelated charges. I think I explained that Maggie confided to Tylar on her deathbed that she felt he had poisoned her the same way that he had poisoned Marley."
"Yes I recall that Judge. But will those unrelated charges keep him in prison for the rest of his miserable life?"
"Perhaps," he replied, "But they won't get him the death penalty."
I looked over at my father's somber expression. He wanted an eye for an eye. He wanted to avenge my mother's murder. I felt the same way.
Trinity rose and went to a tall wooden cabinet in the corner of the parlor. She opened the door and searched the top shelf finally pulling out a small envelope. She handed it to me. It was sealed; 'Maggie' was written on the front.
It was my mother's handwriting. I recognized it from the pages she had written and torn from the notebook.
I opened the sealed envelope and took the folded piece of paper from it. There was a curly lock of hair taped to the paper. It looked like baby hair. The note was short and direct.
Maggie,
Please take this lock of Tylar's hair to Preston in Baton Rouge. Please tell him that he has a daughter and that she ne
eds his protection. The hair will provide the DNA proof that she is his child. He will protect you as well for doing this good deed. Trinity will know what the key opens.
Love,
Marla
The business card that my father had given to my mother before he left was enclosed in the envelope as well.
I handed it over to my father to read. Tears sprang to my eyes as I sat back down and tried to compose myself.
My father looked up first at me and then at Trinity.
"I don't understand why Marley would have trusted Maggie with a task such as this," he said, handing the note to Trinity to read.
She shook her head; her eyes were full of sadness.
"I'm so sorry Judge. Marla was still trying to look out for Maggie in some way it would seem. She knew that Maggie needed to be kept safe from Matthew; she knew that you were one person who could do that."
Trinity wiped an errant tear from her cheek.
"She never shared with me the contents of that envelope there or the contents of the metal box. She said it was family business; it wasn't safe for me to know too much. Marla loved me like a sister but she was a very private person. Why I never knew you were her baby's father until I received your phone call. She did ask me if the key ever found its way to me if I would do what I could to assist."
I was confused; my father appeared to be as well.
"Assist in what way?" I asked.
"In getting the metal box opened," she replied.
"Let's do it then," my father replied standing up holding Preston.
"Can you get the metal box for us?"
"I’m afraid not Judge Tylar," Trinity replied softly.
"Why not?" My dad and I both asked in unison.
"It's hidden inside the casket with Marla."
CHAPTER 45
The ride back to Baton Rouge was a very quiet one. Preston was sleeping soundly in her car seat. I was lost in thought about all we had learned from Trinity today. I suspected my father was as well.
Shortly after the botched attempt by my mother and Maggie to leave New Orleans and return to Mississippi, Trinity had moved to Vidalia. She had preferred the quiet life of a small town to the crowded, noisy life in New Orleans. Around the same time, Matthew had moved to Baton Rouge with my mother, Maggie and me. This had allowed my mother to stay in touch with Trinity. My mother had done just that.
Trinity said it hadn't been more than a month since they had moved to Baton Rouge when my mother had shown up at her apartment in Vidalia. She had taken a bus from Baton Rouge. Trinity had been concerned because my mother had not brought me with her. She had questioned my mother about it.
My mother had told her that she had been really sick; that she had to stop breast-feeding me because it had been making me sick. I had started vomiting after nursing. She had put me on formula and left me with Maggie while she came to Trinity for help.
Trinity said that my mother had looked deathly ill. She had put some various herbs and roots together in a mixture instructing my mother to mix it with boiled water and drink the concoction several times a day. She said it would flush her system of whatever virus or infection she had going. My mother had given Trinity the envelope asking her to keep it in case Maggie ever came to her. She wouldn't tell Trinity anything further.
It was barely a week later that my mother had again shown up at Trinity's. This time she had me with her.
Trinity said she looked worse than before. She was having trouble breathing and complained of hallucinations.
She asked Trinity if we could stay with her. She had told Trinity that she suspected someone was trying to kill her. Trinity said that my mother's behavior had been very erratic. She had rambled incoherently at times; but handed Trinity a locked metal box and made her promise that if anything happened to her she would place the box inside her casket hidden underneath the blanket where no one would see it. Trinity promised her she would.
My mother had also given Trinity the caul that she had preserved. She asked her to make sure that it was placed in the casket as well. She said that my mother had said she wanted something of me with her for eternity.
Trinity told my mother she was taking her to a doctor she knew in nearby town the following morning. My mother had told her it was too late. She just wanted to go to sleep.
During the middle of the night Matthew had come to Vidalia and was beating on the door of Trinity's apartment. He claimed that my mother had been using drugs and that he was there to take her back to Baton Rouge for treatment. Trinity had told him that she felt my mother was ill and needed to go to a hospital first for a full assessment. She told Matthew she had planned to take my mother to her doctor that morning. Matthew had told her to keep out of it; it was family business and she was not family.
He had then pushed past Trinity. He went to the bedroom where my mother and I were sleeping. My mother was dead. I was still cradled within her cold arms.
Trinity had made it a point to travel to Mississippi prior to my mother's burial. She arrived at the funeral parlor early that morning asking to see my mother. There was no visitation or funeral scheduled; only a graveside service. She had quizzed the mortician at great length about the embalming.
She explained she was my mother's best friend and insisted they open the casket for her to view my mother.
When they finally opened the casket she said that they had done a magnificent job with her. The mortician had commented to Trinity that he had cried while preparing her for entombment. He said that something was not right. He told her maybe someday someone would want answers. He assured her that my mother's body was well preserved. He then left her alone to say goodbye to her dearest friend.
Trinity had then carried out her promise to my mother. She placed the caul on her pillow and the metal box down underneath the satin coverlet at her feet.
My mother had been entombed in the family crypt at a cemetery in Braxton, Mississippi.
The silence of our ride back to Baton Rouge was broken when my father spoke for the first time since we had gotten into the limo.
"I can order an exhumation Tylar. It is what needs to be done. You do realize that don't you?"
"Will it be done for the purpose of opening the metal box?" I asked.
"Not entirely," he answered.
I looked over at him as he continued.
"The metal box might very well contain evidence that will help convict Matthew but we also need forensic evidence. That type of evidence can only be gathered by having a forensic autopsy conducted."
"Can they do that after all of this time?" I asked, astonished somewhat at the thought of it.
"Yes. Modern embalming methods and advances in forensic technology can help prove the exact cause of her death even after all of this time. I want your approval though. You are her next of kin."
"You have it Dad," I replied, though I knew that in his judicial capacity he could have ordered it without my consent.
By the time we reached my father's estate Trey had arrived. I saw coming down the stairway as we came into the entrance hall. I flew into his arms. Dad carried a sleepy Preston up from the limo. I took her from him and headed upstairs to our suite. Trey stayed downstairs talking with my father presumably about what we had learned on our trip to Vidalia.
I changed Preston's diaper and stretched out on the bed with her so that she could nurse comfortably. Trey joined me in the suite several minutes later. He sat down on the bed next to us.
"You've had quite a day it seems," he remarked.
I nodded not trusting myself to speak for fear I would burst into tears at any moment.
"You know sweetie, it is okay to feel emotional about this. You learned some very disturbing things today. That is why I am here with you now. You don't have to go through this alone."
"I know Trey," I sobbed. "I just don't want to think about what my mother endured because of me."
"She loved you sweetie. Would you have done any less for Preston?"
/> I looked down at my baby who had fallen asleep cuddled against me. Trey lifted her from me and carried her into the adjoining nursery. He placed her in the crib.
He rejoined me on the bed, pulling me into his lap. He rested his chin on the top of my head; his strong arms were wrapped tightly around me
"Tell me what you're feeling baby?"
"I feel so many things I guess. I feel sadness for the loss of my mother; I feel anger that Maggie didn't do the one simple thing that my mother had asked her to do."
"Anything else?"
Trey knew me so well.
"Okay yes, there is something else. I feel sort of angry with my father. Why in the hell didn't he check on her after he walked out? If he loved her why didn't he see that she was protected? My God, he knew the type of man Matthew was at that point."
"Aren't you a bit angry with your mother?" he asked quietly.
"Why would I be mad at her? She was the victim in all of this. I have no right to be angry with her."
The tears started rolling down my cheeks as I continued to deny any anger towards my mother.
"Tylar you have a right to feel however you feel. Feelings are not right or wrong - they are what they are."
He was rocking me gently back and forth in his arms. I knew that he understood me totally and how I rolled. I couldn't deny those feelings to him any more than I could deny them to myself.
"Okay yes then. I do feel angry with her. Why didn't she go to my father? She would be alive today if she had done that. I just don't get it. She died and left me with Maggie. It was wrong."
Trey lifted me up and turned me around to face him. He gently brushed my tears away with his thumbs. He leaned over and kissed my cheeks and my nose. I looked up at him and realized that whatever pain and suffering I had endured along the way to finding him had been worth it. How could I be mad at anyone for that?
He tilted my chin upward and kissed me warmly on my lips. I laced my arms around his neck and kissed him back loving the taste and feel of him.