Lacene Lords

by Fornataro, Nancy

  Spence was silent for a minute. "It was...it was the week before my parents died. Then, after that, it went by the wayside with the murders..."

  "Interesting. So somehow, they made their way into the box after that. Who knew about the box? Just you and your father?"

  "I really don't know," Spence said honestly. "My mother may have known. I just can't tell you that."

  Davey nodded, before he said, "Okay, here's what we're going to do. This is new evidence in a very old murder, but I'm going to reopen the case."

  Spence realized he'd been holding his breath and it came out in a long sigh. "Thanks, Davey. Where do you go from here then to catch the murdering son-of-a-bitch?"

  "I had an idea as we read the letters. There is a handwriting analysis pro over in Rushburg. He's a straight arrow, and can tell us a lot of different characteristics about this writer."

  "Like what?"

  Davey smiled. "Let's just wait and see. I also want him to figure out the signature on the third one here. It looks like some kind of a letter of the alphabet to me, but I'm not sure. Then, of course, before we send them off, we'll dust them for prints. Although, chances of finding anything are pretty slim. Don't get your hopes up."

  Spence put his hand out. "Thanks, Davey." Then, on his way out of the conference room, Spence said, "You'll tell Pap, right?"

  Davey laughed as he started bagging the evidence. "Yeah, it's against police procedure but I'll let him know."

  Spence arrived back at Big Jake's place late in the afternoon. He walked through the back door into the kitchen and found Lila, Meg, Willie and, to his amazement, Harv Brewster sitting around the kitchen table.

  Meg smiled tightly. "Spence, you remember Harv?"

  He nodded to Harv. He noticed the man was fresh from a shower, with his long hair combed straight back, wearing a new checkered shirt and jeans.

  Lila lit a cigarette and said, "Harv will be staying in the barn apartment for a while, Spence. So if you see him in and out of here, don't worry."

  Spence, curious now at this turn of events, sat across from Meg and Willie, while Maria bustled around, making dinner and singing softly in Spanish.

  "Now," Meg said to Willie, "I will repeat. Why were you and Joe fighting on the highway?"

  Willie's hand came up to brush the hair out of his face and Spence saw the bandage on his knuckles. But Willie didn't reply to the question, just sat looking at the table.

  Meg said to Spence, "Davey got 911 calls that they were almost getting run over on the highway. He said Willie was pounding the snot out of Joe, and had to bring Willie back here in handcuffs."

  Spence observed Willie with some surprise. He just didn't seem like the type of kid to be fighting. Now, he still sat, head down, shirt filthy and jeans ripped out at the knees.

  Lila added, "And he came in screaming for me. Heard him all the way from the barn. When I came in here, he gives me this g-normous hug, like I haven't had since he was eight years old."

  Spence said quietly, "Why don't you let him get cleaned up now? He looks like he could use a shower. Then he and I will have a little talk, man to man."

  "Okay, you go clean up," Meg told Willie.

  He got up, with a sullen expression, and banged out the kitchen door on his way upstairs.

  "Now Harv," Meg said firmly, "this stays here, or I'll kick your drunken ass, you get it?"

  He nodded and sipped his coffee.

  Meg continued, as she looked at Spence, "Willie and Joe had been smoking pot. Willie reeked of it when Davey brought him in here. He denied it, of course."

  "Has he ever done that before?" Spence asked.

  "I've had my suspicions but not proof positive. Did a room search one time. He said it was someone else's bong."

  "Right," Spence replied dryly.

  "This time, even Davey could smell it on him. At any rate, something set Willie off. He's not one to fight."

  "And, what with the big hug for me," Lila added, "it just doesn't make sense."

  Willie came into the kitchen, freshly showered about half-hour later. He stood looking at them all.

  "Okay," Spence said, as he refilled his coffee, "let's go on the back porch Willie; see if we can get you some justice."

  Once on the porch, they sat on white deck chairs, and Spence continued to sip his coffee. Silence between them grew.

  "So," Spence finally said, "what's the deal here?"

  Willie sprawled in his chair, arms crossed, staring at the wooden deck. "Ain't something I can talk about, Spence."

  "Ain't ain't a word."

  "It is. It's in the dictionary. I checked."

  Spence smiled. "Your mother must have been after you about it."

  "My mother is always after me about somethin.'"

  "It's because she loves you."

  "Right."

  Spence continued sipping his coffee, thinking he was getting nowhere with the kid. What was it with teenagers and brick walls? "So, you fought with Joe about...?"

  Willie shifted and looked uncomfortable now. "He disrespected my family."

  "How did he do that?"

  "By being a dumb, fucking asshole."

  "Language, Willie."

  "Sorry."

  "So, how was he dumb?"

  Silence was his answer, and Spence searched his mind for something to say to the troubled boy. "I guess," he began, "if you're truthful, and a good guy, following all the rules, you don't have too many friends, do you?"

  Willie thought about this for a while. "Guess you don't."

  "But is life still worth living?"

  "'Course it is." Willie rose and stood with his back to Spence, and leaned against a porch rail. "Not like my mom. They came to get her with an ambulance that time. Then she was gone for a long time. Came back like nothing happened. Nobody ever said a word to me about it."

  He turned, with his back against the rail. "So much for being truthful and being the good guy. No one would talk to me. I was alone." His voice broke then, and he couldn't continue.

  Spence sighed. "It feels like you're alone sometimes as a teenager. Trust me, I can relate to how you're feeling. I was alone when my folks died. Truly alone, until I went to live with my brother Mark, when he came back from Europe. I don't know what I would have done without Big Jake and your Uncle Chad."

  "But, isn't there a commandment? Thou shall not kill? I mean, doesn't that make any difference to my mom?" Willie was visibly upset now. His face was red and tears were forming in his eyes.

  "Doesn't she think about me?" he continued bitterly, "Doesn't anyone around here think about the bastard son?"

  Spence sighed again. "You can't think that way, Willie. You are who you think you are. If you think you're a bastard, everyone you meet will think that too. And it will hound you for the rest of your life."

  "It's a bum rap. I never did anything to deserve it."

  "Yeah, I know. And I didn't deserve to have my parents killed in eighty-two either, but it happened. It's not what happens to you in life, Willie, but how you deal with it that really counts."

  Willie nodded.

  "You can't use your fists anymore, Willie. Eventually, you'll end up in jail. And, trust me, you don't want to be there."

  Willie smiled wryly. "Well, you trust me Spence. Joe wouldn't apologize to me. To anyone. He's too much of a dick."

  "So, do you have to hang around him? There've got to be other kids to be with. Is Joe the one with the pot?"

  "Yeah, I guess you're right. Joe's a bad seed. I need to stay away from him. Maybe I could hang with Mike Mitchell. He's a cool guy."

  "It helps to have a plan." Spence smiled at him. "Still can't tell me what happened out there?"

  Willie shook his head.

  "Okay, go in there now. Give your mom and grandma a kiss and a hug. You can stay away from Harv if you want."

  They both laughed.

  "Seriously, though," Spence continued, "give him a chance too, Willie. You just never know what is behind a man
, what's happened to a man and what makes him what he is today. Be patient. I have a feeling he's not as horrible as people believe him to be."

  Willie nodded then shook Spence's hand.

  "You need those knuckles looked at?" Spence asked, as he saw Willie wince.

  Willie replied, "Yeah. Not the knuckles, though. Think I broke my collar bone when I slammed into a tree today."

  "Christ, Willie, why didn't you say something?" Spence got up, looked at the lump on Willie's collar bone then called for Meg to come on the porch.

  "God," Meg said, after Spence told her, "Come on then, I'll take you to urgent care. You should have said something."

  After they left, Jake drove up in his black SUV. He loosened his tie as he walked towards the back door. "First day back to work since...well, nothin' got done while I was gone. Let me just put it that way."

  "Mayor's office never sleeps?" Spence asked, as Jake sat heavily beside him.

  "Somethin' like that. What went on here today?"

  You don't want to know, Spence thought. "Well, Willie was in a bad fight after smoking pot. Meg's got him at the urgent care right now. Probably broke his collar bone."

  "Christ!" He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. "But I guess he's at that age. Had some humdingers at that point in my life. Wouldn't listen to anyone. He's just like his grandpa."

  Spence smiled, before he said, "There's a little surprise for you inside."

  Jake rose. "Guess I'd better see what it is. I could sure use a nice surprise on a day like today."

  "You might not like it."

  "Oh, hell's bells."

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jake entered the kitchen and let out another oath.

  "An' good afternoon to you too, husband. You remember Harv?"

  Jake said nothing as he helped himself to a beer from the refrigerator, and popped the top. "What's goin' on Lila?" he asked in a low tone, as he stood against the sink.

  "Harv's going to stay in the barn apartment for a while. Be our guest, you could say."

  Harv watched the table intently, head down, not uttering a word.

  "Remember," Lila said quietly, "God is our stronghold, the God who shows us loving kindness. We, in turn, pass that on."

  Jake snorted. "What the hell, Lila. Why don't you bring every goddamn stray in the county to live here."

  "We've got a lot," she replied simply. "He has nothing."

  "Oh, wait," Jake said sarcastically, "let me go get my checkbook and give him everything we've got."

  Lila sighed and put out her cigarette. "You never will understand, will you? It's God' will. Do unto others. His wife turned him out and he had an accident at church and cut his arm. We have all of Chad's clothes still, and they're about the same size."

  "Can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear."

  At that, Harv raised his head and looked at Jake. "Don't want to be no bother, Jake. Trying to get back on track here. Trying to find a job. The wife's been on me really bad..." his voice broke and Lila grabbed his hand.

  "You're going to be okay, Harv." She went on consoling him in a soft tone as Jake shook his head and returned to the porch with Spence.

  "Never seen the likes of it," Jake told him. "The woman brings in stray cats, stray dogs, horses that need a home, now she's countin' on a loser like Harv to give her a place in heaven."

  Spence laughed. "I'd take him in too if it would keep me a place up there. I need a reservation. Come on, Jake, give the guy a break."

  "He's a drunk," Jake replied sourly.

  "Maybe he can change if someone gives him a chance."

  "Do I have any choice?"

  "Not that I can see. Thought I'd take him over to Ned's Barbershop. He looks like he hasn't had a shave and haircut since Nixon was in office."

  Jake sat in a chair and chugged half his beer. "Damn, that' good. All right Spence. If you think the fella's worth it, I'll buy in."

  Spence was still grinning as he drove Harv into town. Jake, he knew, was all bluster and bluff. Truth be known, Spence had seen him feeding Lila's stray animals and grooming the abused horses she took in.

  He watched Harv clutch the door handle, so he slowed his speed.

  "So Harv," he said, "what happened with the wife?"

  Harv rubbed his hands together then clutched the seat. "Came home once too often wasted, I expect. It's just been getting to me lately what with the jobs not being there, an' I started drinking more and more. Didn't know how to cope with it, you know?"

  Spence nodded. "We'll help you out, Harv. You don't have to go it alone."

  "And I do thank you." Harv shot him a look of appreciation.

  They arrived at Ned's a few minutes later.

  Spence walked in, and Ned shouted, "Spence Moorehouse! As I live and breathe!" The two shook hands, hugged and Ned said, "How you been? Thought I saw you roll into town the other day."

  Grinning, Spence replied, "Oh, I'm still a dirty white boy."

  Ned laughed and said, "Every damn time I play that CD I think of you." He shook out a cape draped over the chair."Being the only black man in a sea of white faces," he continued, "I need to have someone I can relate to."

  "Didn't see you at the wake."

  "Sorry, son. I had a cold. Didn't want to spread it. I sent nice flowers though."

  Spence said, "Old Harv here needs a shave, haircut, the works. And, me too, while you're at it."

  Ned picked up the hair on Spence's neck. "What's it been, three months since your last haircut?"

  "You've got to know, Ned. I don't have time."

  "Well hell," he said, as he guided Harv to the cutting chair, "women nowadays like that anyways. They call it the dirty-sexy look."

  "Well, maybe I should leave it then," Spence said with a grin, as he sat down to wait for Harv.

  Ned pointed a finger at him. "You stay right there dirty white boy. I'll make you look so good, the women'll be climbing all over each other to get to you."

  Spence laughed and picked up a magazine.

  In Rushburg, David Ellison listened to his cell phone messages and cursed. He went to run a hand through his hair and realized he was simply stroking his bald head, and he cursed again.

  His partner, Daniel Smith looked at him across their desks at the police station. "What?"

  "Why do you have all that hair?"

  "I eat well and take care of myself," Smith replied blandly.

  "How can you have a full head of hair at your age? How old are you now, sixty?"

  Smith smirked. "Something like that. So what's all the swearing about? You always swear when you get bad news. Was it your ex-wife again?"

  "Well, fuck a duck, remember that Moorehouse double-homicide in that little Lacene borough?"

  "Yeah," Smith said thoughtfully, "it was the fifth year for me on the force. I'd been promoted a few years earlier. It was your first gory homicide and you were totally green around the gills." He leaned back in his chair. "The woman had her throat slit along with the husband, only he lived for a while and fought like hell into the kitchen, where he either bled out or the killer hit the carotid. Autopsy said the carotid was slashed, just couldn't figure out how this guy could make it to the kitchen with the artery spurting like that."

  They both sat for a minute, silently reliving it.

  Ellison said finally, "They called us 'Double D' because of our first names."

  Smith nodded, and finished eating his spinach and sprout salad.

  "How can you eat those weeds?" Ellison asked disgustedly, as he polished off a burger and fries.

  "Love it, can't do without it." He pointed to his full head of blond hair. "So what's with the Moorehouse thing?"

  "Got a message from the deputy over there. New evidence and they're reopening the case."

  "What the...after how many years now?"

  Ellison checked his computer, and whistled. " A little over twenty ."

  "I'm trying to remember," Smith said, "why they called us in on that
one."

  "Hah!" Ellison said enthusiastically, "You have hair but your mind is going soft!"

  "Up yours. I remember now. Dinkwater sheriff was overwhelmed, said he needed help."

  "We didn't find too much either on that one, and it didn't help the bragging rights. And, for a new guy at the time, I could have used some."

  "So," Smith asked him, "what's the new evidence?"

  "Hey, so you don't have a computer over there? Jesus, how lazy is lazy?"

  Their captain came out of his office and called them both into his office. "You remember the Moorehouse case from way back when?" Martinez asked them. "I wasn't around then, but it appears Lacene is opening it up again. Got an e-mail from Sheriff Miller on it."

  "Yes, sir," Smith replied briskly, "we were just discussing it."

  Ellison rolled his eyes at Smith's kiss-ass attitude. But, they'd been partners forever and the man wasn't about to change anytime soon.

  "You'll look into it then?" Martinez continued, "And let me know the results?"

  "Yes, sir," Smith answered, as he and Ellison walked back to their desks.

  Ellison muttered, "Yes, sir, no, sir. What a load of horse crap."

  The two checked their computers and found the new evidence listings.

  "Holy shit," Ellison said, "love letters, stuff from 'Nam. No prints it says here, but it's the letters I'm interested in."

  "Yeah. The Lacene sheriff is sending them to Stutgart that handwriting analyst. We had him come in on the Borchard case, remember?"

  "Oh, shit. Not him. Jesus Christ, every time I send anything to him I'm afraid to sign it. Maybe he'll tell Martinez I'm a serial-killer or something."

  Smith laughed. "I've got my eye on you."

  "Right."

  *****

  Pap watched Davey carefully. "So tell me again what it was in that box." His oxygen tank clicked on and off in the quiet living room. Davey repeated his list of new evidence.

  Whistling, Pap said, "So we don't know if the letters were from the husband or someone else?"

  "Not yet. I'm sending them to Rushburg for analysis. No prints. Also, I'm getting a warrant for any banking information the husband may have done. Might be a sample of his handwriting in the records somewhere."