by BJ Bourg
“Were you drunk?”
“Of course not. I don’t drink when I have to work.”
“Then how is it possible you don’t remember an argument that resulted in your stepson beating the piss out of you?”
“He’s not my stepson.”
“You married his mother, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make him my stepson.” Foster spat the words. “He’s nothing to me.”
I nodded slowly and leaned back in my chair. “There’s definitely some bad blood between the two of you. If it’s so bad that he wants you dead, then I’m guessing it’s so bad that you could probably get in trouble for it.”
He shifted in his chair and shook his head. “I never did nothing to that boy. I’ve been a good father figure to him, but he never wanted anything to do with me. He was an ungrateful little brat. He was always being bad and doing things he wasn’t supposed to do; destroying other people’s property.”
“Foster…” I leaned forward. “Why don’t you stop with the crap and just tell me what it is that you did. The sooner I find out why he wants you dead, the sooner I can lock him up.”
“I already told you—I never did nothing to him, so it’s not him that wants me dead.”
“Suit yourself.” I stood and grabbed my file. “If you don’t care that someone wants you dead, why should I?”
“Wait, where are you going?”
“You’re free to go.” I opened the door and stood back to make room for him to pass. “Go on about your life. When Matthew finally catches up to you and completes his mission, maybe he’ll leave enough evidence behind so I can arrest him. If not”—I shrugged—“so be it. You had a chance to help yourself but you chose not to.”
Foster didn’t move from his chair. “You can’t make me go out there. Somebody wants me dead.”
“You can’t stay here.”
He stared up at me for a long moment. His shoulders finally fell. “Okay, I’ll tell you what happened, if you think it’ll help, but I don’t believe it had nothing to do with somebody trying to kill me.”
CHAPTER 40
4 days earlier…
Friday, November 18
Mechant Loup, Louisiana
The young boy, who wasn’t so young anymore, pulled into the driveway of his mother’s home in southeastern Louisiana. It was four-thirty in the morning and the headlights from his truck splashed across the front of the two-story, barn-style house. It looked too nice to be his mother’s, so he pulled out his phone and checked the address again. It was correct.
He glanced at his wife, who sat beside him, and whistled. “It seems she’s done well for herself.”
His wife only nodded. Her eyes were red and tired, and he knew she needed sleep. He glanced in the rearview mirror at his grandfather and then over to his special needs sister, Kimberly. Kimberly had been wheelchair-bound ever since an incident occurred when she was a little girl. She had been sent away to live with their grandpa on their father’s side, and the young boy hadn’t seen her for years.
In fact, it wasn’t until he’d run away from his stepdad’s dungeon and joined the military that he first learned Sissy was still alive. He had reconnected with her and his dad’s side of the family, but he lost touch with his mother and her controlling and abusive husband—that is, until a month ago when she made contact with him through his grandpa and requested they come visit for Thanksgiving. She told him she was in poor health and would like to see them before she passed away.
“Matthew, are we sleeping out here in the car?” asked his grandpa. “Or do you plan on letting us out?”
“You know how to use the door handle,” Matthew muttered, watching as the front porch light came on and the door opened. He wasn’t sure how he would feel about seeing his mother again after so long, but he knew for sure how he felt about seeing his stepdad. He’d made a promise to himself, and he intended to keep that promise.
“I’m getting out,” said his wife, Jill, as a woman stepped onto the concrete porch. “I’m guessing that’s your mom. I’m going meet her and I’m going find someplace to crash. I don’t even care if it’s on the floor.”
Pearly Bernard Blake let out a screech when she saw Matthew step out of the truck. Before going to say hello, he opened the back door and helped Grandpa Desmond get Kimberly into her wheelchair. He then stood back while Desmond pushed Kimberly toward the front door. His mom bent forward and threw her arms around Kimberly and held her tight, weeping uncontrollably. Between sobs, she said how good it was to see Kimberly again, and then turned her attention to him.
“Oh, my, you have grown up so much—”
“Where is he?”
Pearly’s face fell. “Please, son, he’s changed. He’s a different man now. All those things he did back then, it was in his youth. He didn’t know how to be a stepdad. He was a kid himself.”
Matthew looked toward the house. “Is he here?”
“Yes.” Pearly’s voice was low. “Please don’t cause a scene. It’s almost Thanksgiving and I haven’t seen you guys in ages. I’d like to have a quiet—”
“Mom, where is he?” Matthew’s voice was firm. “Either you tell me or I’ll tear the place up looking for him.”
Pearly sighed heavily. “He’s in the back yard, sitting by the fire pit having his coffee.”
Matthew didn’t even bother walking inside. Instead, he went around the side of the house and stopped when he saw Foster sitting there with a thick branch in his hand, stoking the fire.
“Hey, asshole, you remember me?”
Foster’s hand froze and he looked up slowly. “Matthew. How are you, son?”
“I’m not your son.”
“Fair enough.” Foster stood slowly to his feet. “How’ve you been?”
“Remember what I said to you before you pissed in my face?”
“You still mad about that?” Foster spat in the fire. “When are you going to man up and get over that trivial shit?”
Matthew moved closer to him, stopping only when there were several feet separating them. “I told you I was going to make you pay for what you did.”
Foster shifted his strong leg back a little. “Oh, yeah, and you plan to do that now?”
“I’ve thought about it,” Matthew said, “thought about it for a long time. I told myself I’d kill you when I saw you again.”
“Yeah, I remember you saying that when you were knee-high to a short alligator.” Foster chuckled. “I remember laughing my ass off at you.”
Matthew felt his blood boiling, but he took a few slow breaths to remain calm. “Lucky for you, my mom wants to have a nice peaceful Thanksgiving. Otherwise, I’d make good on my promise.”
“A peaceful Thanksgiving?” Foster let out a guttural laugh. “Your mom doesn’t care about Thanksgiving, boy. She called you here to see if either you or your sister is a donor match. She doesn’t want your company—she wants your kidney.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your mom’s as selfish as they come, and it’s time you found that out. The only reason she called you and your sister was to have you come down here so she could pull at your heart strings.” Foster leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Can you imagine how evil a person has to be to try and take a kidney from her handicapped daughter? Kimberly can’t even make a sentence and your mom wants to take the poor girl’s organ.”
Matthew’s eyes narrowed. “You know, I never did tell anyone what really happened that day. Well, I tried, but no one would listen. But that was then, and this is now. When I talk, people tend to take heed nowadays.”
“Watch your mouth, boy. You’d better not go around spreading any lies about me. There’re consequences for that kind of thing.”
“Oh, they’re not lies. Everyone thinks Kimberly fell, but you and I both know you pushed her.”
“I did no such thing. She slipped and fell and hit her head. I didn’t do nothing to her. You were too young to even know what was going on.�
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“Yeah, that’s what you were counting on, but you’d be surprised what kids can remember.” Matthew stepped closer. “And I’m not a kid anymore.”
“So…what? Are you going to tell your mommy on me?” Foster let out a guttural laugh. “She won’t believe a damn thing you say. I’ve got total control over her and she trusts everything I tell her. I could punch her right in the face and make her apologize to my fist.”
Matthew felt his blood boiling, but he tried to remind himself to remain calm. “I want you to apologize for what you did to Sissy, and I want you to apologize for all the things you did to me. If you do that, I won’t hurt you.”
Foster laughed again. “You…hurt me? Now, that’s a good one. As I recall, you’re only good at one thing, and that’s getting your ass beat. I don’t care how long you spent in the military. The military don’t make real men—real men are born.”
“You’re right about one thing; the military didn’t make a man out of me—I was a man before I went in. Those beatings were not for naught, that’s for sure. It taught me some things about me and it taught me some things about you.”
“Oh, yeah, what’s that?”
“It taught me that you’re a coward and you prey on young children and women who are helpless and won’t fight back.” Matthew clenched his fists. “It also taught me that I can take everything you’ve got and still keep going.”
“If you think you’ve seen all I’ve got, then you’re dumber than you look. You ain’t never seen the devil come out of me, boy, but if you keep walking toward me, you will—” Foster stopped talking and, in one swift motion, swung the tree branch he’d been holding directly toward Matthew’s temple.
Matthew quickly brought his left arm up and the branch crashed harmlessly into his elbow, sending speckles of dead bark and wood raining down over him. Before Foster could rear back with his hand to strike again, Matthew kicked him in the groin. Foster dropped heavily to his knees, clutching at the front of his pants. Moving deliberately, Matthew stepped forward and grabbed a handful of Foster’s hair. Jerking his face upward, Matthew smashed his fist into Foster’s nose. The older man cried out in pain and collapsed in a heap to the ground.
“How’s that feel, you old bastard?” Matthew asked. Foster just lay there groaning. Matthew leaned over and jerked him back to his knees by the hair. “This is for Sissy…” Matthew punched him as hard as he could in the left temple, knocking him unconscious.
Matthew straightened and stared down at the man he had dreamed of killing for many years. Suddenly, Foster didn’t seem worth the effort. Matthew turned when a soft voice called his name. It was his mother.
“Is it true? About Sissy?”
Matthew nodded. The sun was just starting to rise and he could see tears streaming down her face.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough to leave,” she said. “I’m so sorry for all you went through. The torture, the hate. It’s all my fault.”
“No, mom, it’s okay. He didn’t break me; he just showed me how strong and determined I truly am.” Matthew turned back toward Foster. “I’m going to need you to go inside now,” he told his mother. “You’re not going to want to see this.”
“Please don’t kill him…he’s not worth it.”
“I’m not going to kill him,” he promised, “but you will not want to see this.”
When his mom was gone, he unzipped his pants. “If you pee on me, I pee on you—that’s the law. It’s right there in the rule book of life, page three, section eight…”
CHAPTER 41
Mechant Loup Police Department
It was twenty after eight when Foster finished telling the story about Matthew beating him up and urinating on him. He said Matthew had barreled his way into the back yard immediately after driving up to the house and attacked him without provocation. He said the younger man hit him when he wasn’t expecting it and beat him while he was down.
“And then he pissed all over me while I was unconscious.” Foster shook his head. “That’s no way to greet someone after going years without seeing them.”
It was obvious Foster didn’t want me to know why Matthew beat him up. “Damn,” I said as convincing as I could muster, “Matthew sure sounds like a hothead.”
“He is!”
“And a bit psychotic. I mean, who goes around peeing on people?”
“That’s what I thought, but then Pearly gets all mad at me and makes me leave the house. Tells me she doesn’t want to see me again until her children leave. She didn’t even let me get cleaned up first. I had to walk into the hotel lobby smelling like piss.”
I could’ve challenged him on his earlier lie about leaving the house on his own accord, but I decided to keep pressing him about the reason for the beating.
“Well, Matthew’s obviously crazy and I’m sure it doesn’t make any sense, but why’d he want to fight with you? He must’ve said something while he was attacking you.”
Foster was quiet for a long moment. When he didn’t answer right away, I told him I could ask Pearly and the others at the house. “I’m sure someone overheard what was being said between y’all,” I said. “If you don’t remember, I can head out to the house right now and interview everyone.”
“I mean, I remember some of it,” he finally said. “You’re right, it didn’t make sense. He was babbling about Kimberly’s accident and trying to accuse me of pushing her.”
“Kimberly?”
“She’s his sister. She fell and hit her head when she was a little girl. She had severe brain damage and has been in a wheelchair ever since. Pearly had a job and couldn’t care for Kimberly like she needed to, so Kimberly was sent to live with her grandparents on her dad’s side.”
“Who’s their father?”
“Some guy named Willis Bernard. I’ve never met him.” Foster shrugged. “As far as I know, he’s never been a part of their lives. I know he’s never paid child support and he’s never visited the kids. I think that’s why Matthew turned out bad. You know what they say about boys who grow up without their dad.”
After momentarily wondering about my own biological father and whether or not he’d be willing to meet with me, I studied Foster, trying to imagine him pushing a little girl. I could actually envision him doing it. “So, if I understand you correctly, Matthew thinks you pushed his little sister and that’s why he attacked you?”
“Yeah, that’s the gist of it. Crazy, isn’t it?”
“I have to ask; did you push her?”
Foster acted offended. “I’d never intentionally hurt a little girl.”
Based on his answer, which wasn’t actually a denial, I was certain he’d pushed the little girl. “When I sit down and visit with Matthew, what’s he going to say is the reason he peed on you?”
“He’ll probably try to say I pissed on him when he was younger, but that’s a lie. I never did nothing like that to no one.”
“Would he say you abused him in any other way?”
Foster squirmed in his chair and hesitated before shaking his head. “No, he…he wouldn’t say anything more than that, and I don’t believe he’s got a reason to want me dead.”
“He attacked you and knocked you unconscious, Foster, so I’d say he’s mad about something. If it’s not about him, it must be about his sister.” I squinted. “When Matthew was beating you, did he say anything else? Anything at all?”
Foster was thoughtful. After a minute, he raised an eyebrow. “He did! He was demanding that I apologize for something.”
“For what?”
“The…the thing with Kimberly. He said I should apologize for what I did to Kimberly and to him.”
“Did you apologize?”
Foster shook his head.
“Then you need to apologize, and it’ll all be over”—I snapped my fingers—“just like that. My guess is he really believes you hurt his sister and he’s not going to stop until you pay for your sins or you make it right by apologizing.”
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nbsp; “For what? I didn’t do nothing.”
“Tell me about the accident. How’d it happen?”
“It was a long time ago…”
“It might have been a long time ago, but that kind of thing is hard to forget.” I placed my forearms on the desk and leaned close. “Where did it happen?”
“At our house, back when we lived in Breechville, Kentucky.”
“Where at your house—did it happen indoors or outdoors?”
“It was outside, near my old truck. She slipped and fell on the sidewalk, hit her head on the ground.” He frowned. “It was really scary.”
“Where was Matthew when it happened?”
“He was also on the sidewalk. They had just got through playing with some paint or something. I’m actually not sure what they were doing, but she fell and hit her head. Matthew might have even pushed her, and that might be why he’s blaming me now.”
“Where were you when she fell? I mean, if you were close to Kimberly, maybe you were obscuring Matthew’s view and he didn’t actually see what happened. And if you were close to Kimberly that might explain why Matthew mistakenly thinks you pushed her. If we could somehow convince him that it was an accident, he might feel bad for trying to kill you and he might admit what he did.”
“I…I really think it’s Connie who paid somebody to kill me, so it’s probably better if you just talked to her. I don’t think Matthew knows anything.”
“Why don’t you let me worry about who knows what, okay? Now, let’s get back to Kimberly…where were you when she fell?”
“I…I was too far to push her.”
“You know, a simple fall wouldn’t produce the kind of brain injury Kimberly sustained. Kids fall all the time and they bounce right back up and keep going.” I paused to let him think about it. “She must’ve hit the ground with some degree of force—the kind of force that would come from a push.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You need to find out who Connie paid, because he’s still out there somewhere. I mean, I don’t even know who to watch out for. It could be anybody.”