DarkHeart of Hampton House

by Joy Redmond

  Joey slumped down into the cushions of the couch and yelled as if he wanted the heavens to hear him. “Shit! That hospital is for the criminally insane. Nobody ever gets out of there. But he did almost kill a nurse and doctor. Maybe he’s crazier than I ever realized. Maybe that’s why Lacy took off. Maybe he tried to kill her and she managed to escape. I’m glad she got away. I just hope she contacts me some day.”

  ***

  Lacy answered the door. The server came inside carrying a tray. He set the table as if she were royalty. She tipped him and thanked him kindly.

  This is the life, she thought as she picked up half of the turkey club sandwich. She took a bite, savoring the taste, then opened a red notebook.

  As she read about his life at Hampton House, she almost choked, twice. As much as she thought she hated Lance, she felt her eyes sting. The last entry was about his departure from Hampton House. “Then where did you go?” She pushed the plate aside.

  She picked up the other notebook and went over to the bed. She tucked the pillow behind her head, leaned against the headboard and began to read. Lance had unique penmanship. It’s almost feminine, she thought.

  She sat spellbound, reading in disbelief, horrified, and she could barely breathe, barely make her fingers flip the pages. She clasped her heart and felt all the blood drain from her head. He was a murderer; one that was proud of his killings and made sure he had details of how he had done them in. A bitter taste of bile filled her mouth. He said he was a serial killer when he picked me up.

  She sat paralyzed, her throat dry, and her hands trembling. What kind of twisted mind would write about killings and describe them in such detail? I feel as if I witnessed each murder scene. She could barely whisper, “What should I do with the journals?” She began to pace the floor.

  Lance was dead and nothing could be done to him, but the family members of the people he had killed deserved to know how they had died and by whom. Her heart hadn’t beaten so fast since she had taken off on the bike. Lance Jackson was written on every page of the journal, as if he had autographed them.

  She placed her chin in her palm. Her mind spun faster. She snapped her fingers. “Got it!”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Joey came home from work and checked his mailbox. He withdrew a manila envelope. There was no return address but it was postmarked Little Rock, Arkansas. “What the hell?” He hurried inside, ripped open the envelope and pulled out two red spiral notebooks. He shook the envelope and a piece of paper hit the floor. He picked it up, then sat down on the couch and began to read.

  Dear Joey,

  I just wanted you to know that I’m safe and sound. Thank you for being my friend and for all you did for me. I found these notebooks in with my stuff. I sent them to you and I hope you take the time to read them. Please read them carefully. I’m not going to get involved with anything that has to do with Lance Jackson. He’s behind me. He’s going to stay behind me. I know you will do the right thing. I’m washing my hands of it all. I’m starting a new life and Lance is just a bad memory. I do miss you. I hope someday I’ll see you again.

  Love,

  Lacy

  Joey clasped the note to his heart, hung his head and tears rolled down his face. “Ah, Lacy. I’m so glad you contacted me. At least I can stop worrying about you. I love you too.”

  Joey fixed himself a drink, then opened the first notebook. As he read, more tears rolled and he talked to Lance. “Damn, man. What a horrible life.” He got up, went into the kitchen and brought the bottle back with him. “Lacy, I have no idea why you thought I needed to read this. It’s just breaking my heart.”

  He turned up the bottle of Jack Daniel’s and took a large swig. He wiped his tears and opened the second notebook. As he read, his head began to swim, sweat beads popped out on his forehead and he wondered if he was reading a script for a horror movie. By the time he had finished it, he was sick to his stomach. He ran for the bathroom and retched until he had the dry heaves. When he felt strong enough to stand, he went back to the couch and placed his hand on one notebook.

  “Lance, you lowlife bastard! I hate that you had such a horrible childhood, but that’s no excuse for killing just to appease the rage in you. You actually killed the woman who raised you? She was harsh, but she did give you a home. I wondered about what you did to Lacy the night she took off. I’m more convinced you tried to kill her, though she didn’t mention it. I guess she figured me reading all this sickness was enough. I’m sorry I saved you.”

  Joey stared out the kitchen window and smiled as a beautiful redbird perched on the rim of the birdbath. The bird calmed him and he spoke to it. “Wait a minute. What if Lance was writing a novel about a serial killer? Maybe he made all this stuff up. Maybe I’m getting all worked up for nothing.” He hurried over to the end table by the couch and picked up the notebook and thumbed through it. “Names, dates and locations. That would be easy enough to check out. Dumb bastard. If it’s the truth, you sure left the bread crumbs. Now, what do I do?”

  After careful consideration, he looked up a phone number and reached for the phone.

  He dialed and heard one ring before a man answered. “Agent Cody. How may I help you?”

  Joey was so shocked when an agent answered, he almost couldn’t speak. He cleared his throat, then explained what he had stumbled upon. He wasn’t about to mention Lacy. He made sure the agent thought he had found the notebooks when he had cleaned out the house.

  Agent Cody asked for a name and address.

  Joey gave his full name and the address of the clinic.

  Agent Cody said another agent would be in touch.

  Joey hung up the phone but he continued to talk to the agent. “You snotty shithead. You didn’t even thank me.” He rubbed his brow. “You think I’m some kind of crackpot. Well, if, and that’s a big if, an agent does contact me, maybe after reading the macabre details, they might decide to investigate. They have all the information they need to verify the killings. It seems to me it’s a written confession and signed by him. If they dismiss it, then I’ve done all I can do.”

  He laid his head against the back of the couch and again he held Lacy’s note to his heart. “Well, Lacy, I did what I thought was right. Thank you for writing to me. I miss you, girl. I hope someday you’ll come see me, or at least drop me another note. Right now, I just want to curl up in a ball and die. Just as I had a happy life, everything had to blow up in my face.” Joey cried himself to sleep.

  ***

  After one week of being holed up in a hotel room, Lacy thought her body and mind had healed well enough to venture outside. She had loved Little Rock the few times RoJo had brought her here. She needed to go shopping since she had only brought a few clothes.

  She went out the door, making sure it locked behind her. Fuck you and the bike you rode in on, Lance Jackson. Your name will never roll off my tongue again. It’ll take a while to completely wipe you from my mind, but I’ll do it.

  She smiled and nodded at a maid as she hurried down the hallway.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Lance had been in a catatonic stupor for three months. He was tied to a wheelchair by a tight belt around his middle and across his chest. He stared through the grimy window pane he had been wheeled in front of.

  Willy, an attendant who had worked at the State Mental Hospital for twenty years, came into the tiny room. He had been taking care of Lance since he had been brought to the State Mental Hospital.

  The room had one small window covered with black, iron bars. Lance stared at the bars. Like I’m going to jump out of a window? I can’t even get out of this damn wheelchair.

  Willy walked to Lance’s side. “Nobody ever leaves this ward. Them stupid doctors make sure of that. They fix ye where ye can’t be of harm to anybody, ever again. They used to do them lobotomies on peoples like you, till they was outlawed. Good riddance if’n ye axe me, ‘cause they was downright in-human. But nobody ever axes me nothin’. I’s just a po, dumb da
rkie what only got sense enough to take care of crazy white people.”

  Lance was tired of hearing Willy repeat the same thing every time he came into the room.

  “How ye like all them purdy tulips in bloom out there? I helped plant ever one of ’em. Sorry ye can’t enjoy ’em. Or maybe ye can. Them eyes look like they sees things now. Look like they wanna talk too. Well, maybe someday ye will.”

  Willy talked on as he smoothed the sheets on the twin bed. “You sho be a heap different then when ye first come here. Wild as a buck, ye was. After ye got revived with that adrenaline stuff, ya went plum berserk and damn near kilt a nurse and doctor. I hear they charged ya with two counts of attempted murder. They stuffed yo wild ass in a straightjacket and brung ye here. Then, them stupid doctors pumped ye full of Thorazine and some new shit they’s experimentin’ with. They put ye in yo own closed-off world. If ye axe me, them doctors are crazier than any patient here.”

  How many times are you gonna tell me that, Willy?

  “They acted all nice by puttin’ your clothes in the closet over there, like they think ye ever gonna need them again. Come on,” Willy said, as he pushed the wheelchair close to the bed. “I gotta get ye back in bed and do yo exercises so’s yo muscles won’t atrophy.”

  As Willy talked, Lance was yelling inside his head. Turn the page, Willy. I know this by heart. I bet they cleaned out my wallet. Well, the joke was on them. I’d already stashed my money in my briefcase.

  “I take good care of ye, son. I talk to ye even though them doctors and nurses says ye can’t understand me. I talk to all my peoples. Don’t matter if’n they understands me or not. Just ‘cause they’s doctors that don’t mean they know everythin’. How they know you can’t understand me? They sho nuff can’t axe ye, can they?”

  “I knows if I tell ’em you is responding to any kind of stimulation, them stupid doctors will pump ye full of more shit so they can keep ye a vegetable.” Willy shook his head. “No sirree! Them tight-ass doctors ain’t gonna get no information outta Willy Sampson.”

  Willy set a water pitcher on the bedside table and picked up a clean glass. Lance gulped ice water when Willy put a straw in his mouth. “I dunno what them po-lice wanna talk to ye ‘bout. They done charged ya, but they sho ain’t gonna take ya outta here. I guess they don’t know they can’t get no answers outta no vegetable, huh?”

  Police? Lance’s eyeballs shifted sideways, and he watched Willy fill the water glass. He strained with all his might. A low animal-like grunt erupted from his throat.

  Willy almost dropped the water glass. “What the—?” Willy bent by Lance’s side. “You understood what I said.” Willy held a coy grin. “I knowed you could. I knowed them uppity doctors don’t know shit from Shinola. Shinola is shoe polish, ya’know.”

  Yes, I know what Shinola is, I’m not stupid, and I’m not a vegetable, you moron!

  Willy walked to the doorway, looked up and down the hall, and returned to Lance. He looked into Lance’s eyes. “Ye listen to me, son. If any them nurses or doctors hear ye do that, they’s gonna tell them po-lice from the FBI. I knows they’s FBI, ‘cause I heard ’em say so. I don’t know what you done or why they wanna talk to ye, but I don’t think they’s here to pay no social visit. Ye gotta be quiet.” Willy stood up, rubbed his head, and blew a deep breath. “I’s tryin’ to protect ye, son. Somethin’ tells me you’s in heap big trouble.”

  Lance blinked his eyes. Why does the FBI want to talk to me? So I’ve been charged with attempted murder. Any good lawyer can beat that. Another thought ran through his mind. Did Joey and Lacy find my notebooks? So what if they did? I covered my tracks. Nothing can be pinned on me. The FBI just wants me to think they have me by the balls. Well, they don’t. They never will.

  “Ol’ Willy won’t tell on ye. I kinda like ye. I figure ye done been punished enough bein’ kept here in this hell-hole. Now, ye be quiet when anybody else comes by. I’ll be back later to feed ye.” Willy patted Lance on the head.

  Lance grunted louder.

  “Hush! I done told ye not to do that. It be too dangerous.” Willy patted Lance on the leg, smiled, and left the room.

  Chapter Fifty

  Lacy awoke, stretched her arms over her head and smiled. Darlin, her poodle, came running to her bedside. “Three months of nothing but happiness beyond what I ever thought I’d find, Darlin.” She headed for the kitchen and pushed the button on the coffee maker. “Brew me a good one, Mr. Joe.”

  She dressed, brushed her teeth, and her hair as she waited for the coffee to brew. She walked back into the kitchen, poured a cup, then went outside, barefoot. She sat down in a lawn chair and admired the small tulip bed she had planted in the little patch of ground that was considered the front yard. May was her favorite month. As she listened to the sweet chirping of birds, she petted Darlin and remembered the day she had gone downtown to Little Rock on a shopping spree.

  She had pulled the bike into a parking space, got off and was digging through her tattered purse for change so she could feed the parking meter. She had just dropped in the last dime and turned the handle, and the red time flag came up. Two hours.

  She ran her hands through her hair, raised her shades and looked around. Where do I start? She was about to head up the sidewalk to a shoe shop when she heard a familiar voice.

  “Lacy! Lacy, is that you?” She turned around.

  She almost took off running when he started walking toward her, but her feet weren’t receiving the message. All she could do was stare with her mouth agape, not believing her eyes, wondering if she was dreaming.

  “Oh, God. It’s really you. I never thought I’d ever see you again. Where have you been, girl?”

  “Put me down, RoJo! What do you care where I’ve been? You sure didn’t care where I was on prom night. You didn’t even come out to see if I was alright after I got tossed out on my rear while all your mucky-muck friends had a good laugh.” She fought tears. “I stole the bike.”

  “You stole the bike! You still have your crazy sense of humor. If you’ll just give me a minute, I can explain. I’ve been out of my mind the past nine months, wondering where you were. I looked everywhere for you. I’ve cried my eyes out for you since that horrible night. Will you come in the store and let me explain? Then if you still want to hate me, I won’t ever bother you again. Please!”

  “What store?”

  RoJo pointed upward. “Read the sign, honey.”

  Lacy backed up a step and read the bold red-and-black sign. RoJo’s Sporting Goods. “What the hell? You mean you’ve got your own business here in Little Rock? Shit, man. I never thought you’d ever get out of Yellow Creek or out from under your parents thumb. Or do they still run your life? Maybe I shouldn’t come inside. I wouldn’t want to contaminate your place of business. I wouldn’t want to be tossed out on my ass. I sure—”

  RoJo placed his hand on Lacy’s lips. “Shush and listen to me before that temper gets the best of you. This is my place. I say who does and doesn’t come in. I haven’t spoken to my parents for a year. After prom night I told them to go to hell. I packed up and came over to Little Rock, found me a little apartment, then opened up my own store. I’m the boss of my life. I’ll be the boss for the rest of my life. Now, are you gonna come in or not?”

  “I reckon I can come in for a few minutes. But you better have a good explanation for what you did to me.”

  “Please lower your voice. People are looking. I can explain, and nothing would make me happier than to have the chance to tell you the truth.” RoJo smiled at a passing couple as he took her hand.

  The minute Lacy felt the warmth of his strong hand she felt butterflies in her stomach. The same butterflies she had felt every time she was near him through their high school days. Damn him. I thought I had lost all feelings for him. He can still turn my world upside down. But he’ll never know it. She walked beside RoJo, her knees feeling weak.

  Lacy walked inside the store and her head turned in all directions. “Sweet B
aby Jesus! This is all yours?”

  “Well, it belongs to me and Nancy.”

  Lacy dropped his hand. “Nancy? That’s the snotty bitch you took to prom!”

  RoJo starting laughing so hard he could barely reach for Lacy’s hand as she turned and headed for the front door. “No, silly. Me and the fi-nancy company. It’s a joke. You used to laugh at all my corny jokes.”

  Lacy chuckled. “I’m sorry. There just hasn’t been too many things for me to laugh at lately. I guess maybe I lost my humor the night I lost you.” Her voice became hard as she finished her last sentence.

  RoJo gathered her into his arms. “You never lost me. You never will if you’ll still have me. You’re the only girl I’ve ever loved. I told you a long time ago that I’d love you till the day I died. I still mean that. You ripped my heart right out of my body when you took off. I just hoped you’d hold on to it, take good care of it, and someday bring it back home to me. Here you are. Where did you put my heart?”

  Lacy grabbed her heart and with tears rolling, she said, “Right here beside mine. I tried to lose it but it’s still beating within me. Damn your hide!”

  “Good. Come in the back room, and we’ll pick up where we left off before prom night. I want to make things right. I’ve become my own man. No more taking orders from parents, grandparents or anybody else. You’re looking at a new RoJo who still loves his Lacy.”

  “You silk tongue fool.” Lacy playfully whacked him on the arm. “Where’s that back room?”

  From that day forward, Lacy stayed with RoJo. He had explained what she really already knew, but she wanted to hear it from him and she wanted an apology. She got more than an apology. She got back the love of her life.

  Three months of heaven, RoJo. I love you with all my heart.

  Lacy went back inside, put her coffee cup in the sink, slipped on her shoes, picked up her purse and headed off for classes. Being a cosmetology student was more hard work and more book studying than she had thought, but she enjoyed it. RoJo jokingly called her his hairmesser in training. “Hairmesser,” she mumbled and hurried out the door.