When we woke Abolina was already gone. She left a note on the dresser telling us she went to check on Clem.
Beau and I were by ourselves and had to work around each other to wash up in the bathroom. Thankfully, Beau had bought toothbrushes and deodorant at the store the night before, so we could at least freshen up. I did not have my spray hose for the shower like we had at the house so I had to take what we called a whore’s bath. It’s just a washcloth and soap, cleaning the essential parts. We were both up and dressed in day old dirty clothes in time for continental breakfast.
We went down together and ate quickly, wanting to hurry back to the station to see if there was more news.
When we arrived we saw Clem out of his cell and sitting with Abolina in the hallway. He was still crying and shaking his head. He looked a terrible mess. We were told J.B. was on his way to pick them up. Terry Thibodeax was in for questioning but so far hadn’t admitted to anything. Jimmy was back in the interrogation room and still considered the number one suspect.
Banyan told us we were free to go. He planned to come by later that night around dinner time to talk to us.
“You won’t find me there,” I told him. “Beau and I have an appointment with the therapist for my leg. But tomorrow night the whole lot of us is staying at a hotel not far from here to get ready for All Saints’.”
Abolina heard our conversation and jumped up like she just remembered something. She ran over to Banyan and cried, “Will Lisette be back in her crypt for All Saints’ Day? I told them it was important when I let them take her out. She needs to be back in her crypt.”
Lt. Poortvliet came over and placed Abolina’s hands in hers and said, “She will be laid to rest for All Saints’. Everybody knows how important that is.”
Banyan walked over to me and asked me in a whisper if we could talk in the interrogation viewing room. I followed him and when we were inside he said, “I don’t want to sound like an idiot but I don’t understand this stuff. Why is it important for her to be back in her grave for Halloween?”
I explained to him that it’s the days after Halloween that are important: All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day. On All Saints’ we go to church and then visit the family plots and clean them. We have a little party with close friends and family. Then on the next day, All Souls’, we have a huge party for extended family and friends. I told him it’s very important that all souls departed are at rest by All Saints’.
I invited him to the celebrations and he promised he would try to make it. He started to open the door then stopped, turned around and said, “Sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” I asked.
“I am mostly sorry for sitting next to you alone last night. I should have known better.”
“That hurts,” I replied and pushed past him towards the door.
“It’s not like that. How do you think it would look if people thought we slept together? Lt. Poortvliet already asked me if I was sleeping with you after how you acted at Dixie. At least I was able to honestly say I had never laid a hand on you.”
“I don’t think it would be so bad, us being together,” I said, realizing it was the same thing Beau had been saying to me.
“Stepwald is not in custody, and his trial has not even begun. What would happen if I got up on the stand and it came out that I had a relationship with the main witness? It would ruin me. But even worse, what kind of man would I be to sleep with a woman who couldn’t walk and was under the influence of pain killers?”
It occurred to me that this was a lot like what was happening with Jimmy. We all thought very badly of Jimmy, but it might really have been circumstance. I had always thought Jimmy was Lisette’s first. I didn’t think he would have to give her drugs to get her to sleep with him. I looked through the two way mirror at Jimmy who was sitting in the interrogation room by himself, left with a pile of Lisette’s crime scene photos. He was saying he was sorry to them and was a sobbing mess.
I looked to Banyan and said, “The photos. I forgot about them. They are important. Oh my gosh. Ask Jimmy about the photos.”
“What photos? What should I ask?”
“Ask him if he knows anything about Lisette and a photo of Josephine and me. And see what he says.”
Banyan walked out of the viewing area and into the interrogation room.
I saw a switch on the wall for a speaker and turned it on. Banyan asked my question, and Jimmy wiped his tears a moment and said, “Yeah I remember the picture. It’s of the girls wearing old dresses, right? We took it up to the plantation a few days before the accident to show that guy.”
Banyan turned around and looked at me through the glass.
“Start at the beginning, Jimmy. What guy, and what happened?”
Jimmy went on to tell a story about going up to the plantation a week before the murder because Lisette was putting in her application. When she did, she saw a man trying to buy the picture of Josephine and me out of the window. The old man who took the photos wouldn’t sell it to him, because he didn’t think it was right to sell pictures of girls to old men. Lisette saw the exchange and asked him what he wanted with it. He told her that I looked like somebody that he used to know, and he wanted to get in touch with me. Lisette said she would tell him my name for $100. He accused her of lying about knowing me to try to get money out of him. She told him that she had the same picture back home, and she would give it to him as proof but she wanted $500 for it. The man agreed.
Jimmy and Lisette went back to the house, grabbed the picture and sold it to him. Then Lisette bought the other picture from the old guy who took the photos. He sold it to her because he knew she was Josephine’s sister. She put the other picture back in the frame and never mentioned the exchange.
Jimmy said she felt bad about giving out my name and asked Jimmy not to tell anybody. Banyan asked him what the man looked like, and he said middle aged with brown hair, wearing a tweed jacket. Banyan pulled out a picture and showed it to Jimmy, who recoiled. Banyan asked, “Could that be him?”
“Whatever that is, it’s wearing the same jacket,” Jimmy told him.
Banyan came back to the room where I was and said, “It’s the man from Lisette’s tomb.”
“Did you ever find out anything about him?” I asked.
Banyan said that the man had been dead longer than Lisette, by a few days and was water logged. He said the man had a blow to his head that left metal in it just like Lisette.
I looked at Banyan and said, “But who is he? Was he reported missing?”
Banyan shook his head, and I said, “Something is off with this story.”
Banyan agreed and told me to be careful. I was really taken aback when he told me to ask Beau to stay over.
“Clem keeps a house full of shotguns. I don’t think I have anything to worry about,” I told him.
“Clem cares about you, and I hear he is an excellent shot, but he’s old and unstable, Fanchon. Make sure you aren’t alone on that leg. I don’t know if Terry or Jimmy committed either of these murders, but if they didn’t, somebody close to them did.”
All Hallows’ Eve
I left for my appointment with a troubled mind. When Beau and I arrived at the hospital we went to the physical therapy office, which was just outside of a gym. When we got there my therapist, Genevieve, told me that I was supposed to go back to the doctor first to have a walking cast put on, and I was supposed to come with a swimsuit. In all that had happened in the last day I had forgotten to read my instructions. Beau ran out to the store to get me a suit while I had my cast removed. They put on a plastic removable cast held on with Velcro. I much preferred this as it was lighter and its removal didn’t require a saw to be anywhere near me. When I made my way back to the office Beau was waiting for me with the most ridiculous bikini known to man. It was at least two sizes too small and mostly string. I wouldn’t be caught dead in it. I told him he failed his swimsuit buying mission, and he informed me that it was only $8.
I told
him that it looked like $3 worth of fabric so he was taken. I made him get my t-shirt from the vehicle to wear over it.
The physical therapist removed my newly placed plastic cast while I sat at the edge of the pool. After it was off she lowered me into the pool. Once the water touched my leg it felt free. I had been in a cast for months and unable to move my ankle. Walking around in that water felt like knocking out cobwebs. She had me lift my leg out of the water and when she did, I saw that a wild patch of hair had sprung up on my shin, even more I noticed the patch of mismatched skin over my shin and a smattering of scars from the inserting of screws and rods. I reached forward to feel it. It was numb, and it neither looked nor felt like my leg. It was mangled. I thought about the scar on the side of my stomach and paired with this, I was a damaged person. I started to get teary eyed.
Genevieve said, “It’s okay, sweetie. It will look better in time and work better, too.”
She rubbed my leg up and down and while I couldn’t feel like I used to, what I did feel was nice.
Being in the walking cast was a nice change, I thought. I was not technically allowed to walk on it yet, but I liked maneuvering with it much better.
After our ride back to the house I told Beau I would be more comfortable if he stayed the night. He didn’t need any coaxing. As soon as we walked into the house Lina was on his case telling him to clean up his tackle which was still all over her kitchen table. As I was heading down to my room Abolina reminded me to pack for All Hallows because she wanted to get into town early, before all the traffic.
She had booked a room near the girls’ cemetery so she would be able to get to church easy and back to Lisette’s graves to clean them up. I was hoping I would get a chance to sneak away and go to New Orleans on All Hallows’ Eve. I popped out to the kitchen to watch Beau sorting his tackle and asked him if he was coming to town with us. He said absolutely, and he was on board with my plan to sneak out and go downtown.
I was excited about getting a night out on the town and packed my bags happily. I tucked away two nice dresses, one for morning services on All Saints’ and one for the party on All Souls’. I went to the closet to see if Josephine and my masquerade masks were still in the closet, and they were. I pulled mine down. It was a blue crescent moon that covered half of my face, lining my left eye and lips with silver sparkles. Josephine’s mask was a red sun accented with golden sparkles. I thought about packing it, and then I thought how stupid I would feel wearing a mask without Josephine. She would have encouraged it and made it fun. I put the moon back on the shelf with the sun and tried to suppress the old memories of us dancing in the All Hallows’ Eve parades in what she called Nawlins.
When I finished packing, I wasn’t tired and I didn’t want to be alone. I joined Clem on the screened in porch and listened to him pick his banjo. A few minutes out and we saw a person approaching from the other side of the swamp.
They were moving slow and with a lantern, not a flashlight. The tall, thin visage was unmistakable to me. It was my father. Clem excused himself and ran inside leaving me on the porch. I was mad at Clem for taking off. Though not as mad as I would have been if there had not been a body of water between my father and me.
As he reached the bay I could see he had dressed his gaunt figure in black as always. He was wearing too much clothing given the weather. His bulging blue eyes were plainly visible even from 20 yards away. He lifted his lantern to his face and in his unnervingly low baritone said, “We need to talk, Fanchon.”
I felt goose bumps up my neck and wished for Clem to be back. My father’s voice had power over me even when he couldn’t touch me. As if he heard my wish, Clem was out on the porch with two rifles in bags and a cleaning rag. He sat in his chair without greeting my father and started polishing one of his guns. The other, he took out and sat at his feet. From where I stood I could see it was loaded.
“Talk about what?” I asked.
“Your momma and I have not seen you in a long time, and we have given you your space long enough. The time is nigh,” he said.
Clem stood up with his gun in his hand, I was unsure if this was a threat. His tone was cheerful when he said, “How you been, Rivet?”
My father was taken aback, “I’m fine Clem. What you have your guns out for?”
“Cleaning dem,” he said. “You know I have de worst problem with vermin on my property. Abolina and I been talkin’ about how to eliminate this problem. She prefers to see dem locked up far away from her. I prefer just to shoot ‘em and eliminate the problem. So, I sighted my rifle real good last week at the range, hitting targets clean at 100 yards with my new scope.”
That was a threat. I knew it, and my father knew it.
“You take somebody’s kin from them you create a problem, Clement,” my dad said across the water. “Your momma and I want to see you on All Saints’, and we need you to pay your respects to your grandmother.”
“I will pay my respects to Granny, but I have no wish to see you, Rivet, or Paulina,” I shouted, finding my bravery.
“We is Cajun, even if you decide to talk like a Yank now. And to us, family means something; being descended of Acadians means something.”
“It’s interesting you bring that up, Rivet, because I learned a few things about my history lately. Some old lies brought to light,” I said referring to the Ellis Island document that said we came down from New York, not Acadia like the other Cajuns.
He was walking away but turned quickly to face us. His reaction was far beyond what I expected. He gritted his black stained teeth and nearly lunged at us, but was stopped by the water.
“What do you think you know, Fanchon?” he shouted.
“You want me to announce it in front of the whole bayou that you ain’t even Acadian?” I shouted back.
“The hell you say,” he screamed still showing his teeth. “Don’t you spread lies, girl, or next time I see you I’ll make sure you pick a switch.”
Clem picked up his loaded shotgun and cocked it.
“No need for all that,” Rivet said. “You better visit your grandmother, Fanchon. And no matter how you try to escape us remember kin is kin.”
Under my breath I whispered, “Non mois pere.” Clem heard me and placed his arm around me and agreed.
The next morning it occurred to me that my dad was mad about something other than our origin. It was a sin to pretend to be Cajun in our community, but having been around Lafourche so long we would be considered indoctrinated Cajun. He wouldn’t be that mad about that. I tucked it away in my mind for later and turned my focus to All Saints’ Day.
After breakfast we packed up the boat and headed toward the outer bank. Clem and Abolina rode in J.B.’s car, and Beau and I took the truck. Abolina booked us in a French Bed and Breakfast halfway between the girls’ cemetery and our country church. She said that she booked it because of location, but I think she booked it because it was frilly and over the top and Clem would never agree to stay there otherwise.
There was another plus for me. It was only a short drive to the state police station outside of New Orleans. Our two-bedroom suite was overly flowered. The master bed had a canopy covered in pansies and the main room had a fold out floral burgundy couch, a fireplace covered in curios, and doilies and teacups were everywhere. Once we were settled in. Beau and I told Abolina about our plan to sneak off to the city.
“Don’t you keep her out too late, Beau,” Abolina warned. “We have church in the morning and that leg is not healed up yet.”
He gave her a yes, ma’am, and we set off. We parked in Fountainebleau, a nice area of the city with free street parking, and took a street car in the rest of the way. It was still early and the weather was bright and sunny. The car was packed, but people stepped aside for me to sit. The energy on the street car was festive. People were already in costume, and some were singing and chanting as we rode.
Most people wore skeletons or masks of the dead to celebrate those who had passed. Masks of the dead are
a bit menacing at first glance, but I always felt that they were meant to be a tribute and not scary.
When we got off the trolley at Lafayette Cemetery the weather that greeted us was fine, warm with a light breeze. It was perfect for a stroll.
I had fond feelings for Lafayette. Our little parish cemetery was nice with above ground tombs as well, but Lafayette was older and the vaults more ornate. We trekked up and down the rows, and I traced my hand along the limestone flowers and vines. Some of the wings on the angel statues had each feather detailed with tiny little lines. The hair on the statues flowed so well it looked like you could run your fingers through it. The cemetery was packed with people. Many admiring the graves like us others were wearing vampire costumes and imagining they were among the living dead. We saw one group of kids trying a midday séance.
Beau shouted to them, “Hoodoo don’t work in the daytime. Come back after dark.”
I laughed at him and when we were out of earshot said, “What they are doing don’t work ever.”
“Shit, I know. I just like to think of a bunch of Yankee kids in a Nawlins cemetery after dark. They is gonna piss demselves.”
We went from Lafayette up to
Jackson Square and walked through all of the boutique shops. There was a huge selection of hot sauces, so Beau and I made a game of collecting the ones with the funniest names like “Rectal Rocket Fuel” and another named “Smack My Ass and Call Me Sally.” We purchased a ton of them until my purse was stuffed, and then moved on to coffees with chicory. I missed my chicory on the East Coast; their coffee didn’t have the same kick. We sipped our drinks and watched water pass from the square. Beau even had a fun time telling tourists bullshit stories about the statue in the center of the open space. Lying to tourists about the statue is a local tradition and an art form. The statue is of President Jackson on a horse with his hat off. Beau’s lie was that an angry prostitute had commissioned the statue after a soldier ruined her business by saying she was a bad lay. To get back at him she had a statue of him taking his hat off to her erected outside her window, so he had to pay his respects every day.
All Saints' Secrets (Saints Mystery Series Book 2) Page 9