Lacene Lords

by Fornataro, Nancy

  "You're starting to sound like him."

  "God forbid," she said as she smiled and relaxed a bit. She sat on the wicker couch but he continued leaning on the rail.

  She felt him studying her. And when she looked up, his eyes were soft and comforting.

  "Meg," he said suddenly, "I wanted to talk to you about something."

  "Go ahead."

  "Remember the first night I came back into town?"

  Yelling in Red's Bar? How could she forget? The way he'd held her while she cried. After all the years. She could never forget any of her times with Spence. "Yes," she said.

  "You said my parents came to you in your dream. That they knew who killed them. That I was there when they died. Remember?"

  "Yes."

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I never told anyone. Thought they'd call me crazy or something. But when we came out of the movies that night, right around the time Pap said they were killed, I saw my parents across the street from the theater."

  "Saw them? I don't understand."

  "They were just there. Standing across the street, holding hands."

  "Are you sure it was them and not another couple?"

  "Yeah. They were wearing the same clothes they wore when they...died."

  "I'll have to ask Renee," she said softly.

  He sat next to her and she smelled mint and his aftershave. "When is the grand jury hearing?" she asked, trying not to feel his body heat.

  It didn't work.

  "I don't know," he replied as one of his arms came across the seat back by her neck. "Meg," he said gently, his lips close to her ear, "I've missed you so much." His fingers moved in her hair.

  "Spence--"

  But he cut her off, as his lips came down on hers hard. Her lips and body responded achingly to his, and they prolonged the kiss.

  "I love you," he said, his lips against hers, "I've always loved you, Meg."

  Her arms wrapped around his neck then she pulled back to look at him. "You remember the first time?"

  He grinned. "Like it was yesterday. We must have waited at least two years for that moment."

  "And what a good moment it was. Makes me wish the tree house was still there."

  "You wore these silky little panties, they were light blue, like your eyes, with lace on the top."

  "Oh yes. I remember those. I chose them so carefully."

  "And your bra," he continued, "was white with lace on the cups." He held her close and his hand moved to her breast. "So beautiful," he sighed.

  Then he realized the Indian boy was watching them. "We've got an audience," he said dryly. "How long is he there?"

  She sat up. "Until they finish the excavation. The Indians will be there in shifts. I told them they could use the house whenever they needed to. It's got to be a really boring job."

  Loud, excited chatter came from the house. "Willie," she said, laughing, "he likes the professor."

  Big Jake came onto the porch. "Spence. You two patch things up? You coming back here, boy? Better than a motel."

  Spence laughed. "Yeah, I'll go get Mark. He'll be thrilled."

  The next morning, Ellison and Smith came into work at the same time.

  "What's going on, dick-brain?" Ellison asked, eager to have some fun and get on Smith's nerves.

  The man just grunted a reply and sipped on his coffee, then sat blankly staring at his dead computer.

  "Ah, turning the thing on might help," he said to Smith.

  "Yeah. Who burned the coffee? Someone burned the coffee, I can smell it." Smith rubbed his neck.

  "You're doing it again. What happened to your neck, fart-face?"

  Smith grunted again, and pulled out his wallet.

  While he made an appointment with his doctor, Ellison grinned. "What'd she do?" he asked, when Smith was off the phone.

  "Who?"

  "Meg of course. Little Meg Cowell. The one who did this." He pointed to his own eye, which had turned a sickly green color.

  "She didn't do anything. I hurt my neck when I was banging my girlfriend."

  Ellison hooted and laughed at that. "First of all, you did something to it, or should I say Meg did it. You've been clawing at your neck since you came out of Cowell house yesterday. Second, you haven't had a girlfriend in ten years. Nobody can stand you. You're too much of a wuss. Like Felix Unger for Christ sake."

  Smith sniffed and sipped his coffee. "You know nothing of my personal life." Then he uttered an oath and held the back of his neck with one hand. "Did you call Karl Cowell yet? See if he'll give us a written statement about the Moorehouse kid?"

  "I just fucking got here, ass-wipe. Give me a minute."

  Five minutes later, after he'd verbally jabbed at Smith a few more times, Ellison called Karl Cowell. After asking the man for a statement, he couldn't believe his ears.

  "What? You won't give us a statement? But I just spoke to you the other day. Yes, I did. You don't remember it?" He put the phone on speaker.

  "Smith," he said, "you remember listening to Karl Cowell say that the Moorehouse kid knew about the money before the parents were killed?"

  "Yeah." Smith's look was questioning.

  "Sorry detectives," Karl's smooth voice came over the phone, "it was probably a prankster. We have some teens in Lacene who think their Lord God. I'm talking major trouble makers. I'd bet my bottom dollar it was one of them calling you, trying to get me and Spence in trouble. I've been too busy to call you. I'm doing a major project in Rushburg right now. Ask Mark Moorehouse. He's my partner."

  Smith muttered, "I recognize the voice."

  "I heard that, detective," Karl continued, "and I don't appreciate being called a liar. Perhaps I should call my attorney." Then he clicked off.

  "Cock-sucker," Ellison spat.

  They reviewed the case for five minutes, trying to piece it together for shreds of evidence against Spence Moorehouse.

  Martinez came out of his office and stood between their desks. "Hear you all had a busy weekend."

  "Yes, sir," Smith replied quickly.

  Martinez had a tight grimace on his face. "Hear you," he looked at Smith, "were out there bothering the Cowell woman. Very much so. And you," he looked at Ellison now, "have been bothering Karl Cowell. Badgering him over the phone, making up stories. Or so they tell me."

  Ellison and Smith just sat looking at each other.

  "The lawyer called just now," he continued, "and you need to leave the Cowell family alone. We'll get sued. You individually will get sued. With their money and connections, anything could happen."

  He seemed to wind down after that. In a calmer voice, he said, "What did the search warrant on the Cowell house turn up? Hopefully you didn't make too much of a mess."

  Smith sighed. "We weren't able to obtain one, sir."

  "Why not? For God sake, a woman was murdered out there."

  "Judge wouldn't approve it," Smith said helplessly.

  Furious, Martinez looked them both over. He walked quickly back into his office and slammed the door.

  All noise in the outer office stopped.

  "Oooo-eee," someone cried.

  *****

  Spence and Mark stopped at Davey's office to get their DNA swabs done.

  "Don't think it will show anything," Davey said to Spence, as Lee Cobb hovered in the doorway. "Take these samples and overnight them to Rushburg," he told Lee, "don't want to drive over there again. Just got back a few hours ago."

  "So," Spence said, "I'm not sure what they'll use the DNA for."

  Davey said, "First, to make sure the bodies buried there are your folks. Then, if there is any material under the fingernails, like signs of a struggle, if the two scratched someone during the crime, they could match it to you. Or whoever."

  "Sorry I asked," Spence said softly.

  After the two brothers left, Davey headed towards his squad car. He called Doctor Sloan. Dana's tox screen was negative.

  He strolled into the high school administratio
n offices five minutes later.

  "Sheriff Davey," Kathy Pretcher said warmly, "how are you?" He'd often thought Kathy had a crush on him, but he wasn't the slightest bit attracted to her. She was pretty in a wholesome way, with short brown hair and glasses, and almost as tall as he was with her flat shoes.

  "The last time I saw you," she said, "was at Chad Cowell's wake. Never heard so much good music played."

  And, she was a talker.

  "Kathy," he said as she finally paused for a breath, "what can you tell me about Dana Keefer?"

  "Oh, her." She came around the front desk and led him to the hallway. "She's here today. Doesn't seem to skip school, but grades could be better. Bit of a hard player. Get the feeling her home life is not the greatest. Lives with her uncle down towards Maynard Hill."

  He nodded, realizing she was answering his questions without even knowing it. Maynard Hill was the poorer part of town, where an apartment or house could be cheaply rented. He let her talk on.

  "Always hanging on the boys," she continued, whispering conspiratorially now, "first it was Joe Hopkins then Tom Jameson, the one with the cool Mustang. Always did like those older Mustangs. Anyway, heard tell her naked picture was posted on someone's Facebook page before the Facebook people took it off."

  She shook her head. "Poor girl. Needs so much guidance and care from a woman."

  "You heard of her sleeping around then?"

  Her voice became even lower. "That's not the size of it, Davey. Heard she slept with the whole of the football team one time. Ugly rumor. Why you asking, by the way?"

  He put on his hat and prepared to beat a hasty retreat. "No reason, really. The uncle asked me to look into her schooling. Thanks for your help, Kathy."

  "Oh, by the way," he said, turning at the front door, "what grade did you say she was in again?"

  "She's a sophomore, Davey."

  "Okay, thanks again."

  *****

  Dana walked slowly into first period. Biology. What a joke, she thought, as she stared at Joe and Tom. Lifting her chin, she walked up to Tom.

  "Back for more?" he grinned, looking her up and down. "That sure was fun the other night."

  "I still want to do the deal," she said evenly.

  "Shit," he said, "had to move all the stuff to Joe's shed. The cops were sniffing around after the party." He looked her up and down again boldly. "Almost got caught with our pants down."

  That wouldn't show much you limp-dick bastard, she thought. "Whatever. Can I get it tonight? And no funny stuff. I'm bringing someone with me."

  "Yeah?" He got right in her face. "Want to have a foursome then?"

  Pansy-ass coward. She struggled for control as more kids came into the room. "Look, you want to sell or not? Take it or leave it."

  His face settled into more placid lines. "Sold. Meet you at Joe's house. Seven o'clock. Bring a truck."

  She nodded and took the seat furthest away from Tom and Joe.

  *****

  Simon hung up the phone and called to his sister. "Justine!"

  She limped into his office.

  "They've postponed the hearing. I think their witness punked out on them."

  She sat in the wing chair in front of him. Smiling, she said, "Wonderful news. God does provide. But we knew Spence was innocent from the start. Yes?"

  Simon sat back and nodded. Now he could really relax with Tammy. The past week she'd been needling him and saying he had a head only for business. Then, she'd bitten him. His dick swelled now just thinking about it.

  "How long has it been since you've been to confession, Simon?" she asked, as if she could read his thoughts.

  He sighed and his daydream ended. "Not too long, why?"

  "Father Damien asked after you this morning. Said you haven't been to church all week. Says he needs your help with some budgets."

  "I've been busy, Justine," he snapped, "someone has to pay the bills around here. That's volunteer work, and it's second to being an attorney here."

  "So," she said gently, realizing she'd offended him, "when are they exhuming Spence's parents?"

  "It's scheduled for today. I don't know what they expect to find. That's the only thing holding the case against Spence open right now. They're very weak and they know it. Reminds me of twenty years ago."

  "Yes. Say, have you heard about the Cowell's place?"

  "No," he said, "what about it?"

  "Well, apparently they've found a treasure trove of very valuable Indian artifacts out there."

  "Really?"

  "Yes. I imagine they'll be sent to a museum somewhere or go back to the tribe. They're guarding it day and night."

  "Hmph. Interesting. All right," he said, as was his way of dismissing her, "back to work."

  *****

  Spence and Harv ended up going to the cemetery. Mark and Karl had gone to Rushburg and Meg refused to go with Spence.

  A back-hoe worked to carefully unearth the coffins. Two men with shovels continued and finished the process.

  "Graves-r-us?" Spence said.

  Harv chuckled at the black humor.

  But Spence's mouth was in a hard line. And as they reached the metallic coffins, he said, "How dare they?" as he furiously clenched and unclenched his hands.

  "Guess they have a job to do like everyone else. Wouldn't want their job, seeing dead bodies, no sir, not me."

  Every thump of the shovels was etched in Spence's mind.

  Then Lila walked up and crossed herself. "Spence, I'm so sorry this had to happen. Is there anything I can do?"

  He looked over at her. "Tell them to hurry up over in Rushburg, Lila. Tell them I need to rebury my parents and give them some rest."

  "They're at peace, Spence," she replied. "Trust me, they are at peace."

  *****

  Meg sat across from Renee in the university coffee shop, and gazed warmly at her. "I don't know what I would have done without you, Renee. You've just been a life saver. I'd be in a padded cell right now, chewing on my nails or something."

  Renee laughed. "All in a day's work for me. So tell me about Professor Tim and Chetan. I know Chetan works in the department. He's a Berilian Indian. He doesn't say much usually, but he's helped Tim enormously this past year." She paused. "Tim had heart surgery about ten months ago. It didn't go as well as planned. He's lost a lot of weight and he's in a pretty weakened state from what his secretary tells me. I wanted to tell you because of Willie. Does he know Tim is his father?"

  "Yeah. I told him the other day. I still need to tell Tim, though. That won't be easy."

  Renee smiled. "He's a talker all right." Her smile grew wider. "I can relate to that."

  But suddenly, Renee's face grew serious.

  "You okay?" Meg asked her.

  I want you right now. I need you, right now. Renee whirled around and saw Lex staring at her from a far table.

  Turning towards Meg again, she said, "Thought I heard someone call my name. Sorry."

  Meg didn't notice Lex and continued to tell Renee about the dig at her house.

  But, Lex's thoughts kept intruding.

  Remember the first time we made love? I pulled you close and you resisted?

  Renee grew warm. How could she forget?

  But you relented, because you love me. I took you against the wall, remember? Lifted you up...entered you slowly, carefully...then I touched you--

  Her hand came up to her mouth as he quickly cut her off.

  "Renee?" Meg said, watching her carefully, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

  "I'm all right," Renee said, almost thankful Lex cut her off, "just a little shaky. Too much coffee."

  After regaining her composure, Renee went on explaining to Meg about their portal theory.

  "So, we don't know if my portal is to the past or the future?" Meg asked her. "How will we ever know?"

  "When you dream again, we'll talk about it. I promise."

  Renee arrived back at her office an hour later. Darkness approached and it was t
he time of day she dreaded the most. Dusk. It always made her afraid. Ghosts and demons come out to play at dusk, she thought.

  Something out of a past sermon always came to her: 'And they return at evening, they howl like a dog, and go around the city, they wander about for food, and growl if they are not satisfied.'

  Don't be frightened.

  She spun around to see Lex lounging against the doorjamb.

  "Do not do that!" she cried, as she slammed her purse down on the desk. "How dare you intrude on a pleasant conversation I was having with a friend? You're going to engulf me, smother me. I can't take that, Lex. I need to be my own person." Her eyes met his. "My thoughts are my own. And, for your information, I'm not afraid."

  He walked over, closed and locked the door and drew the blinds.

  Then, holding her by her shoulders, he pulled her in for a kiss. And then I touched you everywhere, even in the special place.

  She whimpered as his kiss became more insistent.

  But then he drew away and flipped on her desk light. "Sorry to have intruded," he said gently.

  She sighed as he went back into his inner office. Pacing the room, she could think of nothing else. Not pottery, not Meg, not the papers on her desk, just him.

  Don't be afraid of me.

  As she walked angrily to the doorway of his office, she said, "I am not afraid of you. But you won't be happy until I telepath, right?"

  He laughed softly as he relaxed and observed her silently from his chair before he said, "Yes, Renee?" His eyes were heavy-lidded and sensual.

  She was temporarily taken aback at the sight of him, but she shook it off, and thought All right, fuck you Lex. That okay for you then? She looked at him triumphantly and crossed her arms.

  His grin said it all. That's fine by me. Wish you would. Come on over here.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Susie watched her step-father warily, then said, "I won't do it again."