Blood Parish

by E. J. Findorff

  “That sucks.”

  Her grandmother bent over slightly. “I didn’t take Delilah. I didn’t kill Clint. Your truck windows? Not me.”

  “No one goes against the patronne.” Angel stopped struggling against the restraints. Her hearing returned as her heartbeat slowed.

  “They’re pressuring me to step down. And I can’t kill them. One of them is to be my heir. I’d rather have one of my daughters kill me than let this parish fall apart.”

  “That’s… wow.”

  “You said you’d sell to Izzy after telling Lucy May you’d give it back? Which is it, Angel? Which is the lie?”

  “Lucy May will get the land back. That was my intention all along.”

  “Good answer, but whether it’s coerced or not, it better be the outcome. One last question. What is keeping you here?”

  The barrel of a rifle touched her temple.

  “I have nothing to go back to.” It didn’t feel like a lie.

  Paulette seemed pleased. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

  The other man climbed the incline of the mound and knelt at Angel’s ear. “You’re lucky the patronne is here. You’re looking mighty sexy strapped down like that.”

  “You touch me, you better kill me.”

  “Enough.” Paulette straightened up. The man spit near Angel’s head.

  “Maw maw. You deliver Delilah to me, and I promise I’ll hand over the house to Lucy May immediately.”

  She hesitated. “Is that all it’ll take?”

  “I promise.”

  “I’ll hold you to that. Cut her loose.” She swung her cane up to tap one of the men. “Call Trevor and have him bring Joe-Joe to the mansion tonight. Tonight!”

  “Joe-Joe has her?”

  The patronne didn’t answer. As Paulette’s vehicle drove away, one of the men tossed her cell on the incline of the mound but kept the gun. The other cut one of Angel’s arms free. As she yanked the stake from the ground, she saw the van’s brake lights moving away until they disappeared around the bend.

  Chapter 50

  The forest glowed under the crescent moon. Reverend Trevor Healey had been on the backroads for a half-hour, cruising past an endless line of pines and an occasional sugarcane field. Joe-Joe remained quiet in the passenger seat. The kid looked out the window with awe, as if he’d never seen nature before. Sometimes, he poked at his leg where the bullet had entered. Trevor felt for the boy but wanted to kill him, also.

  “Why does she want us to come tonight?”

  Trevor turned on his high beams. “Must be important.”

  They turned onto a road that indicated no outlet - a homemade sign told trespassers they would be shot. After a mile of a single lane road dividing the forest, they arrived at the checkpoint leading to the final destination. Trevor supplied his name to Mel who had a large flashlight. The ever-silent guard stood next to a sturdy shack on a concrete foundation.

  After Mel cleared them at the first level of security, they pulled onto the property with a road expertly laid with multicolored paver brick. The curb had spaced lighting like an airport runway. Trevor noticed one of the guards walking the perimeter. It was a beautiful estate with stunning architecture and landscaping backlit with colored lamps.

  An amber bricked wall about eight feet tall curved around the mansion’s property. Branches from strategically placed bark trees intertwined along the top of the wall, almost like barbed wire. It would lead one to believe that it was a gated community of houses, but the wall protected only one.

  A Bubba in overalls with an intimidating gun stepped up to the SUV as it stopped at the entry gate. He approached the window and took the license from Trevor. After examining it, he spoke into his two-way radio. A solid metal gate slid sideways behind the wall, allowing Trevor and his guest to pull onto the compound. Strategically placed trees kept eighty percent of the land from any spying from above.

  Another serious man Trevor had named Carl directed him to a covered parking spot between a Lamborghini and an Aston Martin. The multi-level Los Angeles style mansion could pass as an island resort home for a media mogul.

  Trevor finally said, “We don’t know why we’re here, so don’t speak unless she asks you a question, and be confident when you do. She understands most of the parish is uneducated and forgives a lot.”

  “She knows I ain’t stupid.”

  “No, but you have a temper, don’t you, boy? Don’t let her trigger it.” Trevor turned off the engine. He exited the car and handed another man dressed in slacks and a jacket his cell phone, keys, and wallet before being patted down. He saw that Joe-Joe was assisted in getting out of the passenger side, still having a slight limp.

  The man scanned Trevor’s body with a wand. Both were silently escorted under a covered walkway leading to a side door. Joe-Joe pulled at his damp shirt. Once inside, they were taken by a tough-looking woman to an empty office the size of his rectory with a ceiling two stories tall. Joe-Joe immediately found a plush chair.

  The cherry hardwood floor was immaculate, and there wasn’t a big game hide or buck’s head to be seen. Trevor had been in the room many times, but the anxiety always surfaced. Various tasteful paintings by well-known masters hung on three of the walls, but the most expansive wall had something completely different.

  An extensive Blondeaux genealogy chart reached twenty feet wide and six feet tall, complete with a library ladder to get to the higher entries. Multiple laser copies had been pinned to the board. Hundreds of names and colored lines connected each other like a maze, creating a geometric work of art. It looked nonsensical.

  It had gotten to the point where eight years ago, genealogy software was acquired with the sole purpose of keeping everyone straight as the interconnections became too complicated for the board. Paulette’s direct descendants were the only ones prominently displayed across the center in a larger typeface. With each newborn came a new entry. The green names were the living, and black meant deceased. The rare red name was a person of no relation that weaseled into the family tree. Trevor stopped trying to connect the thousands of dots long ago.

  “If she brings up the shooting of that lawyer, try not to defend yourself because she’ll just poke holes in your excuses, just be apologetic,” Trevor advised. He finally sat in an immersive, deep leather chair with silver rivets, facing the hand-carved wood desk, which was currently clear of clutter. There wasn’t a distinct smell other than that of wealth.

  “Gentlemen,” a raspy voice said from a hidden entrance behind a bookcase. The patronne appeared in an expensive dark pantsuit. A soft perfume fragrance entered with her. She was in full makeup; however, she had a manly air. Her diction was that of an educated person with a deep south drawl. “Thank you for escorting Joe-Joe. How are you, Reverend?”

  “Another year older, patronne.” Trevor didn’t bother to stand.

  Paulette Blondeaux smiled as she would’ve with any answer given. She rested on the corner of her desk with her black diamond-encrusted cane resting across her lap. “First order of business - Joe-Joe, where’s Delilah Forester?”

  He stiffened. “D-Delilah?” He avoided eye contact. “Angel’s friend?”

  “Answer my question.”

  Trevor’s head snapped at him. “Don’t tell me that was the problem you came to me with.”

  “I fucked up.”

  “Tell me she’s still alive, Joe-Joe.” Paulette tapped her cane slowly on the floor.

  He wiped his nose. “I can’t.”

  She walked to the genealogy board, pointing at a name that was too small for either of them to read. “After your debacle with Angel and the lawyer at Lorna’s house, the only reason you’re still alive is because you’re right here on my chart. You were a great match for Angel, except for compatibility in the looks department. We even had your parents move next door to my daughter. A perfect situation.”

  Joe-Joe pleaded, “No one knows anything. All trace is gone.”

  “Perhaps Izzy is right. Ma
ybe I need to make an example of someone to let the clan know I’m still in charge.”

  “We can figure something out, Paulette,” Trevor said, calmly.

  “We could have used her against Angel. What good are you to the family if you hold no value?”

  He fidgeted. “I have value.”

  “When I was a young woman, a cousin stole the proceeds of gambling debts collected for my uncle, the boss. My cousin wore a mask, but the stupid asshole had a dead gray eye. The slits didn’t cover it. My uncle asked me what I would do with my cousin if I were the head of the family.” She walked to the empty fireplace, picking up an iron rod from the rack.

  “What’d you say?” He swallowed hard.

  She looked at the tip of the rod. “I answered with a fire iron to his good eye. I still remember the smell from the sizzling.”

  “Jesus.” Joe-Joe squirmed.

  She gently placed it back in place. “Blind bastard killed himself with liquor because no one would go near him. He was much more stupid than you. Everyone took notice of me after that; I’ll tell you what.” She beamed.

  “Stop scaring him, Paulette. He’s a loyal kid, just impulsive.”

  “We’re lucky the feds aren’t raining down on us. Izzy told me Angel is suspended from the Bureau. I checked, and there is an investigation. This could be our opportunity to use her, if not bring her back entirely.”

  “You believe that?” Trevor asked.

  “Angel never gave the FBI anything on us. That is a fact. Still, we don’t know what side she’s on. You want to redeem yourself, Joe-Joe?”

  He perked up. “I’ll do it. Whatever it is.”

  “First, you stay clear of Angel unless I say otherwise.”

  “Okay.”

  She limped next to Trevor, putting her hand on his shoulder, but faced Joe-Joe. “I’ve humored my brother Earl’s whim for too long.”

  Joe-Joe sat straight. “What do you mean?”

  Trevor glanced up at her. “You want to kill the last one.”

  “The player.” Joe-Joe caught on.

  A slight nod from Paulette. “He should have been killed with the rest of them, but I had to indulge Earl’s stupid punishment for Rob. And I certainly don’t trust Rob to kill the man he’s kept alive for thirty years. Has Rob ever killed anyone?”

  “Not that I know of,” Trevor responded.

  “What do you say, Joe-Joe? Can you tie up that loose end?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  Paulette circled the desk, going into a drawer. She pulled out one of those scary guns Trevor never liked. With the weapon in one hand and the cane in the other, she hobbled to Joe-Joe, handing it to him. “No more starter pistols, sport.”

  “I got a new Ruger from Rob.”

  “This is better.”

  Trevor said, “You’re going to give this responsibility to Joe-Joe?”

  His chest puffed out. “I have no problem with it.”

  Her lips curled in a grin. “You’re going to help the lad.”

  “You have any number of Blondeauxs that can go with him. I can’t…. be a part of it.”

  “I never understood why you think protesting will change my decisions. It’s very tiresome.” She spoke an order into her watch, then looked at Joe-Joe. “Go wait in the car.”

  Joe-Joe hesitated but headed for the door. It opened of its own accord, and a large man appeared in the hall.

  Paulette shook her head. “That boy has too much testosterone and arrogance.”

  “Are you going to tell Rob?”

  “No, he’s too close to it. We can’t chance Angel stumbling on the last living player.”

  He stood. “As you wish, patronne.”

  Paulette turned, quicker than a woman her age should. “How’s Lucy May doing? Nice of you to take her in.” The statement was open-ended.

  “She needed a place.”

  “And how could you say no?” She said, like a mom to a child.

  “What you should be worried about is your daughter Izzy. She’s trying to snatch the land away from us.”

  “I’ll handle Izzy.”

  “From this ivory tower? It’s frustrating to be in the dark, Paulette.”

  She cackled. “Fucking my granddaughter doesn’t mean you have a say in family business.”

  “I’m not…”

  She dismissed his answer with a wave. “I come from a time when girls were married off at puberty, so I don’t take offense to either of your ages, or a man’s… desires.” She shook her head, seemingly enjoying Trevor’s awkward disposition.

  Trevor nodded, praying to be dismissed.

  “Come get the reverend,” she said into her watch. Paulette took one final look at the family tree and appeared sullen. The door opened.

  The patronne moved from the desk, speaking as she walked behind him. “Is Lucy May showing yet? I think it’s time she’s brought here for a visit.”

  Chapter 51

  Trevor and Joe-Joe rode off the patronne’s property in silence. The semi-automatic rested in his passenger’s lap. Izzy was correct to criticize Paulette’s decisions, but he wasn’t about to jump ship. He and the patronne had been together for decades, and unfortunately, Lorna had been the only sister to earn his trust.

  “Who’d you call before we left?” Joe-Joe asked. He turned the gun over, giving it another look.

  “As soon as I take orders from you, I’ll tell you.”

  “You called Mr. Rob, didn’t you?”

  “Mind your business.”

  He seemed pensive. “I won’t say nothing. It’s only right.”

  “Let’s drop it.” Trevor drove a few miles under the speed limit.

  “I’m a bit nervous, Reverend.”

  “You’ve killed before.”

  “Yeah, but… this is different.”

  “Because you know him. You know him well.”

  It was nearing 10 p.m. Trevor drove as slow as possible until dropping Joe-Joe off at Wilken’s Funeral Home to retrieve the hearse for transporting the body. Joe-Joe would tell Rhett it was family business, and the questions would end. Trevor pulled off the curb and followed Joe-Joe to the final destination.

  Along the way, Trevor watched for Izzy or any other spies that might have been lurking. It appeared to be clear. He drove past Mable and Rob’s darkened house, parking on the street as Joe-Joe backed into his driveway. All was quiet in the night. He contemplated the decision to go against the patronne by calling Rob. Not since the mass murder three decades ago had Trevor felt so far from absolution.

  Joe-Joe kept the hearse at home on occasion, so the neighbors, especially Mable, wouldn’t think twice about seeing it in his driveway at night. Trevor exited his car and met the boy at the front door.

  “Honestly, Reverend, it’ll be nice to have the house to myself again.”

  Trevor stared through him. “Such a humanitarian.”

  Joe-Joe twisted the key, then stopped. He looked at Trevor. “The turn was too easy, and there was no click. It wasn’t locked.”

  “You forget to lock it?”

  “Never.” He rushed inside and shot to the back of the house. The reinforced metal security door was wide open. Rob was lying face down.

  “Oh, shit.”

  They searched the entire soundproof room, not that there was anywhere to hide. The mattress, portable potty, and empty shackles held no clues. The bricked-in window was still intact.

  “He escaped.” Trevor fell to Rob’s side. “He’s breathing.”

  “You shouldn’t have called him! This is your fault.”

  Trevor shot back up and held Joe-Joe at the shoulders. “Rob deserved to say goodbye to that boy. It was the right thing to do, you said it yourself.”

  “I’m calling the patronne.”

  Rob moaned, lifting his head. He rolled over. “Shit.”

  Trevor slapped the cell from Joe-Joe’s hand, causing it to land on Rob’s stomach. “Paulette will kill all three of us. No, let’s take an hour before we ki
ck up that shit-storm. Simon knows he can’t just run to a stranger while in town. He’s going to try to leave the parish to get to safety.”

  “I reckon.” He looked unsure. “One hour. I’m agreeing to search for him for Mr. Rob’s sake. We can split up.”

  Chapter 52

  The time limit of an hour’s search closed in fast. Joe-Joe continually wiped the sweat from his brow as he toured every major road out of the parish, as well as gas stations. Mister Rob had to have told the guy what was happening. Why else would a docile prisoner suddenly attempt escape? He jumped out of his skin when his cell rang.

  “I found him,” Trevor announced.

  “Thank Jesus.” Joe-Joe pulled his car over on the road. He let out a gigantic sigh. His blood ran cold at the thought of what could have happened. “Where was he?”

  “God’s Light church, thinking it’d be the one place that would help him in the parish. As far as I know, he wasn’t seen.”

  “You told Mr. Rob?”

  He hesitated. “Rob is here with me at Wilkens. We’re about to handle the situation.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “No. I’ve worked the cremator before. It’s on now. You need to track down Angel and let me know what she’s doing. Can you do that?”

  His car bucked forward. “Patronne said don’t go near her.”

  “You don’t have to confront her. I just need to know she’s not coming here to visit Bobby again or something like that.”

  “Got it.”

  “Oh, and Joe-Joe, as far as the patronne goes, everything went as planned. You took care of things. Rob is on board with that because none of us can admit the screw-up. You’ll look good in this.”

  “Fine by me.”

  Chapter 53

  This had been one hell of an exhausting day, and it wasn’t over. Angel had almost been the latest addition to the Indian mound, if any Indians were actually buried there.

  Her brain swished on the walk back to the main road, led only by the light of the stars. A welt with a slight scrape had developed on her cheek, complete with throbbing. The insects were out in full force, circling and attacking the raw skin. Her own grandmother had indeed given Angel a mob-style warning.