by Lynn Emery
“He’s a self-righteous bag of fart wind. Daddy said so when he ran for sheriff,” Sherry blurted out before the door whisked shut behind Sheriff Godchaux. She wore a smirk as if satisfied he’d heard her putdown.
“You always listen to what your daddy and Tommy tell you.” LaShaun pulled up a chair and sat down.
“Tommy ain’t… he wasn’t but a few years older than me. Him and my daddy just alike.” Sherry picked at a loose thread on the white hospital blanket covering the bed.
“People say your daddy is a hard man, and Tommy—”
“Ain’t nobody’s business what happens in our family,” Sherry snapped.
LaShaun studied Sherry. “I’ve been the subject of gossip most of my life, so I understand.”
“Yeah, except your grandmamma left you lots of money. We still poor as dirt.” Sherry stuck her bottom lip out. She darted a side look at LaShaun and then stared at the wall.
“My family worked hard to make it. I know yours does, too. I’m not gonna lie to you. It doesn’t look good right now, Sherry, with Tommy’s history and what we know about Kris.” LaShaun shrugged.
Sherry looked at her sharply. “What about Kris?”
“She has a criminal record, mostly petty stuff,” LaShaun added when Sherry snorted. “But still, you know those two kids aren’t hers?”
“Yeah, she told me. Which proves she’s a good person. Kris didn’t have to take on that load. She wants the best for those kids,” Sherry shot back. “With all your money and fancy husband, you wouldn’t know anything about us.”
“So she could help you out with money and take Dina off your hands,” LaShaun said, brushing off the hostile swipe.
“Dina throws temper tantrums every hour seems like. Something strange about that child. Gives me chills the way she looks at me sometimes.” Sherry blinked at them. “Kris and her get along great though.”
“She understood Dina in a way you didn’t. That makes sense.” LaShaun worked to sound empathetic.
“Kris takes good care of her kids. I wouldn’t have agreed if she didn’t. I saw how she kept house, and dressed them all nice.” Sherry let her head fall back on the pillow. “What’s the big deal? People let their kids stay with a relative all the time.”
LaShaun decided not to point out that her brother was a sex offender, and Sherry hardly knew his girlfriend. “That was good of her to reach out, give you relief from taking care of four kids on your own. Where did she get all this money though? Kris must have had a pretty decent job.”
“She had money her parents left her. She even set Tommy and Daddy up in business.” Sherry lifted her chin.
“What kind of business?” LaShaun knew Tommy had few skills and little education, their father even less.
Sherry shifted in the bed. She fidgeted with tissues in her hand. “My throat is dry and scratchy.”
“Here you go.” The nurse appeared from the position she’d taken up in a corner. She poured water into a cup, handed it to Sherry and then retreated again.
“You were about to tell me about Tommy’s business,” LaShaun prodded.
“Um, hunting and fishing guide. Taking tourists on boats in the swamp. Stuff like that.” Sherry waved a hand in the air, a vague gesture that reinforced how false her reply sounded.
“Hmm, I see.” LaShaun raised her eyebrows at Sherry.
Sherry sat up again, plumping the pillows behind her. “I’m not stupid. That good cop, bad cop bull is obvious.”
“Except you know I’m not a cop,” LaShaun replied mildly. “I’m trying to help you. I’ve been on the wrong end of the law a few times myself.”
“I heard. You pulled a cop into your bed, got him to make legal. Smart move.” Sherry wore a sly smile.
LaShaun chose to ignore the wisecrack. Instead she leaned forward, elbows on both knees. “When Dina disappeared, you asked to talk to me for a reason. Something Kris or Tommy did scared you.”
Sherry’s grin vanished, and the guarded expression returned. “Oh yeah?”
“You know what I think?” LaShaun let a few beats pass. She pressed on when Sherry avoided her gaze. “You got freaked out by them or their friends. Maybe it was the writing, or you asked to see Dina and kept getting excuses. Both?”
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Sherry seemed to study the pattern of threads in the blanket with much interest.
“You started to wonder about Kris, where she gets all that money, and why she was so interested in Dina,” LaShaun replied.
“You can think up all kinds of stuff, doesn’t mean a thing. Anyway, I can get help even with Kris beat up in the hospital. My little boy is starting to act weird like Dina.” Sherry looked at LaShaun, chin lifted. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“You still don’t know what the writing on the wall of your house said. Maybe they’re lying to you, Sherry. We found a message like it next to your brother’s body.
“Oh Lord, no.” Sherry’s eyes widened with terror. One hand covered her mouth as if to keep a scream from getting out.
“Who contacted you after Kris got hurt breaking into my house?” LaShaun leaned forward even more.
The hospital door swung open with a whooshing sound. A woman strode in. She wore a leather jacket over a navy blue suit. “Don’t answer, Ms. Bradford. I’m assuming Ms. Bradford and Ms. Evans have been informed of their rights.”
Sheriff Godchaux and Det. Anderson came on her heels fast. The sheriff stepped around her first. He looked at the woman. “Ms. Bradford hasn’t been charged. She’s voluntarily helping us find out what happened to her daughter.”
“And far as I know, she didn’t ask for a lawyer. So where did you come from?” Anderson gave her an up and down glance.
The woman ignored him and spoke to the sheriff. “Felicia Benoit, attorney representing Ms. Bradford and Ms. Evans for now.”
“Isn’t that a possible conflict of interest?” LaShaun put in.
Benoit swung her sharp gaze to LaShaun. “And you are?”
“LaShaun Rousselle Broussard. Ms. Bradford asked to speak to me.”
“Yes, at the beginning of the investigation into her daughter’s disappearance. Before she became a suspect,” Ms. Benoit retorted. She turned to Sherry. “I’m advising you to not answer any more questions.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sherry gave Sheriff Godchaux a smug half-smile.
Sheriff Godchaux’s face flushed red. “You’ve just advised your client against her own best interest. She has the chance to give us clues that could help figure out who took Dina. Cooperating could protect her other children as well.”
“So you threatened to take her children, and call this interrogation ‘voluntary’. Right.” Ms. Benoit gave them all a side-eye. Then she looked at Sherry again. “I’m already talking to DCFS about custody issues. Don’t worry. The pressure tactics won’t work. They have no solid legal basis to take your children away.”
“You better find out more facts before you make promises, lady,” Det. Anderson retorted. He spun around and strode out.
“This interview is over. Oh, and don’t bother going to Ms. Evans’s room either. I’ve spoken to Dr. Wilkinson. She’s in no shape to give consent to incriminate herself,” Ms. Benoit said in a cool voice.
“She’ll be talking to us sooner or later, Ms. Benoit. I can assure you of that. Kris Evans was caught committing a felony.” Sheriff Godchaux turned to LaShaun. “Let’s get out of here. I need some fresh air.”
LaShaun gave the two women a slight smile and nod before she followed him into the hallway. The hospital door whisked shut cutting them off from Sherry and her new lawyer. Sheriff Godchaux huffed in frustration a few times. Dr. Wilkinson appeared from around a corner.
“Sheriff, I suspect you’re probably not too happy with the way things are going right now,” Dr. Wilkinson said quietly.
“We’ll push on and get at the damn truth in spite of the bull crap being thrown in our faces,” Sheriff Godchaux barked.
Several nurses in the nearby clinical hub stared at them in frank curiosity.
“Come with me, please.”
The doctor touched the sheriff’s elbow and started off down the hallway. LaShaun and the sheriff followed him. He opened a door marked “Consultation Room”.
Once the doctor closed the door, Sheriff Godchaux blew out a breath. “What’s this about doctor?”
Dr. Wilkinson took off his glasses, cleaned them with a small cloth from his pocket, and put them back on. “Ms. Evans was seriously injured, that’s true. But she’s making good progress. I think another day of rest and she’ll be able to answer questions. I just told Ms. Benoit the same thing. I wanted you to know as well.”
“Well that’s something at least,” the sheriff said, his frown still in place.
“Look, Sheriff Godchaux, My job is treating patients. I have to be as neutral as possible when it comes to their wellbeing: ethically and morally.”
“Yes, yes.” Sheriff Godchaux waved a hand at him.
“Of course, Dr. Wilkinson. We wouldn’t expect you to do anything else,” LaShaun put in, her tone softer than the vibe Sheriff Godchaux was giving off.
“Ms. Benoit reminded me, unnecessarily, about doctor-patient privilege. So I can’t tell you anything either woman has said to me.” Dr. Wilkinson gazed steadily at LaShaun.
“I see.” LaShaun reached out to him with all of her senses. “If Ms. Evans is afraid, you should at least tell Sheriff Godchaux so he can arrange security.”
“Has she been threatened? By who?” Sheriff Godchaux said gruffly.
“She startles at the least sound or sudden move, and the nurses report she becomes even more agitated after midnight for some reason,” Dr. Wilkinson said.
“He can’t repeat anything she’s said while she’s on strong pain meds. Ms. Benoit would jump all over any such statements,” LaShaun said, a hand on Sheriff Godchaux’s shoulder.
“Right.” Sheriff Godchaux rubbed his jaw.
“Not to mention get me in serious trouble with the Louisiana Board of Medical Examiners.” Dr. Wilkinson winced as if imagining that dire reality.
“We have one security staff person. Cliff works evenings after he leaves his other job at Home Depot. One of your deputies works part-time for us,” Dr. Wilkinson said.
“I’ll talk to him and assign another deputy to assist. Tell Ms. Benoit it’s out of an abundance of caution. Her buddies from the other night might get scared she’ll talk.” Sheriff Godchaux gave a crisp nod. The deep furrows in his forehead relaxed as he took some measure of control.
“Thank you. I’m sure Ms. Benoit will be asking. She doesn’t miss much.” Dr. Wilkinson pursed his thin lips.
LaShaun picked up on Dr. Wilkinson’s unease about Felicia Benoit. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”
“Ms. Benoit had a lot of questions about the routine here, and security.” Dr. Wilkinson gave a nervous laugh. “You’re going to think I’m letting my imagination go wild.”
Sheriff Godchaux grunted. “With the stuff I’ve seen on these two cases so far, nothing you say will sound weird.”
“I guess I shouldn’t let the news reports about coded cult messages or local rumors affect me, but I got a funny feeling. I wasn’t sure if she was concerned about her clients’ safety, or trying to find out about the hospital layout and security for another reason.” Dr. Wilkinson laughed again. “Sounds even more paranoid now that I’ve said it out loud.”
“I’m gonna find out more about Ms. Benoit, and who’s paying her,” Sheriff Godchaux said.
“You must have read my mind, Sheriff Godchaux,” LaShaun quipped. She had indeed planned to ask Savannah to check out Felicia Benoit.
“Don’t start with me, LaShaun,” Sheriff Godchaux retorted.
****
After leaving the hospital, LaShaun picked up Ellie from her Aunt Shirl’s house. Despite a rocky family history, Aunt Shirl and LaShaun had developed a relationship. Ellie seemed to have brought LaShaun closer to the Rousselle clan, though they were a volatile lot. Aunt Shirl and LaShaun’s cousin Azalei willingly babysat Ellie when they could.
Three and half hours later, after errands, stopping for gas, then lunch and checking on the house, they sat in MJ’s office. Beau was along for the ride. He curled up in a corner, but seemed tuned in to the human conversation.
The Vermilion Parish Sheriff’s Department headquarters included a modern annex that had been added fifteen years before. MJ enjoyed a nice view of the landscaped grounds surrounding the historic courthouse next door. Late afternoon sunshine slanted through the window to the left of MJ’s desk. The overcast chilly morning had finally given way to a more pleasant afternoon.
Ellie rested in MJ’s lap. After a while, she tickled the toddler under her chin. Ellie giggled but didn’t move from lying comfortably against her godmother’s tummy. “I think someone is ready for an afternoon nap.”
“She went out like a little lightbulb while we ran the streets. Didn’t even wake up the three times I took her out of the car seat.” LaShaun smiled when Ellie’s only reply was a big yawn. She clutched her stuffed rabbit.
MJ’s expression turned serious. “They were able to find a foster home for all three of the Bradford kids. The same family that got them before had openings. At least they’ll be with familiar people and together.”
“You heard Sherry has a new lawyer by now, right?”
“Oh yeah, in the most colorful language Dave could come up with,” MJ joked, then got serious again. “Felicia Benoit isn’t with the public defender’s office. I checked.”
“So we don’t know who’s paying her to represent Sherry and Kris Evans.”
“That’s not confidential information, but we, meaning the Sheriff’s Department, can’t make Ms. Benoit or her firm tell us.” MJ looked at LaShaun.
“Correction, we don’t know right this minute. But we will.” LaShaun winked at her. She stood and picked up Ellie. “Now we gotta move. For once mama is going to be the good housekeeper and fix a home cooked dinner.”
“Bye little butter bean.” MJ planted a kiss on Ellie’s cheek.
“Toodles,” Ellie blurted out and waved.
LaShaun and MJ exchanged a look then burst out laughing at the same time. LaShaun finally got control and wiped tears from her eyes. Beau bounced up, tail wagging.
“Girl, don’t even ask me where she learned that. I’m going to guess my crazy cousin Azalei though.”
Ten minutes later, they were on the road when LaShaun’s cell phone rang. The caller ID flashed Pauline’s name. She used the blue tooth hands-free in her Forrester to answer. “Hey Pauline and Justine.”
“How did you know we were together?” Justine said.
“Seriously, you two are joined at the hip,” LaShaun teased. “Now what’s up?”
Pauline came back on. “News on the missing kids. Can you talk?”
LaShaun glanced into the rearview mirror. Ellie had dozed off again in the car seat. Beau’s large head perched on the seat back as if protecting her while she slept. “Yeah, nothing too graphic. I’m in the car with Ellie.”
“No worries. We can fill in gruesome details later. The TEA thinks they know a headquarters where Juridicus and Legion have the kids. That’s the good news,” Justine said.
“The bad news is looks like it’s a complex right outside the Mexican city of Matamoros,” Pauline put in, her voice heavy with concern. “A real danger spot according to the US State Department. In fact, the entire state of Tamaulipas, where Matamoros is located, is on the department’s travel warning list.”
“A hotbed of drug gangs. High homicide rate, too,” Justine added.
“Getting intel will be difficult, and of course that’s what they intended. Can I hold out hope TEA has contacts in Matamoros or anywhere in Mexico?” LaShaun glanced in the mirror at Ellie again. A black Chevy Tahoe continued to follow her.
“We do, but it won’t be easy. Paranoid is Legion’s middle name,” Justine
quipped. “We’ll get back to you.”
“Are you okay? I’m getting some bad vibes about your trip home.” Pauline’s voice went low through the speakers. Her psychic gift was psychometry, gaining information by concentrating on objects.
“Think I’m being followed. Or maybe all this talk about Legion and its long reach has me paranoid like them.” LaShaun’s breathing sped up. “Okay, they turned off on Sugar Mill Road.”
“Maybe we better stay on the line.”
The twins spoke at the same time, something they did when worried or combining their psychic efforts. LaShaun was about to reply when the transmission crackled, breaking up their words so that she couldn’t understand them. A gray van whizzed by going in the opposite direction. The sky had grown overcast again, making the afternoon look darker than usual. She glanced at the clock display. Four-thirty. Darkness came early in mid-January. LaShaun pressed the gas pedal until her speed eased up ten miles over the limit. She debated what to do as a heavy mist rolled across the pastures on both sides of the Forrester. Beau sat alert on his hind legs.
“We won’t go home in case we’re being followed. Let’s visit the Marchands instead. Xavier and his shotgun will come in handy. Agreed?”
LaShaun glanced at Beau in the rearview mirror. He woofed as if giving approval. Then she hit the speed dial feature on her steering wheel. Chase picked up on the second ring.
“I’m on Choate Road. I think I’m being followed,” LaShaun said while he was still saying hello.
“Damn it. I’m a good…” Chase breathed hard into the speaker. “Fifteen minutes away at our Kaplan substation. Are you near a house?”
“No, I’m headed to Xavier’s place. He and his youngest son stay locked and loaded, bless their gun toting hearts.” LaShaun felt a prickle of heat when headlights appeared in the fog behind her. “The black Tahoe is back.”
“Slow down, let them pass and call out the plate number. I’m on the radio to the station nearest you.” Chase’s voice was tight with worry. “Is Ellie with you or still at the babysitter’s?”