All Saints' Secrets (Saints Mystery Series Book 2)

by Nicole Loughan

  The tourists nodded their head at him and said, “That’s so interesting.”

  Beau took pride in his B.S. story, “See, we ain’t like no New York. We give people something to talk about when they get home. Even if it ain’t true.”

  As it grew darker we left Jackson and kept moving past the rowdy crowds of

  Bourbon Street. We made our way over to Frenchmen. By that time most people were in costume and the parades were starting. When we got to Frenchmen we bought daiquiris and grenade drinks from the street vendors. I started getting buzzed very quickly. The live jazz band playing on the outdoor stage was lively, and I wanted to dance. I set down my crutches and asked Beau to hold me so I could sway to the music. We both faced the stage and moved back and forth in time. He kissed the top of my head a few times as we swayed, and I let him. We were having a great time until we realized that Frenchmen was getting too crowded. We made our way back to the wall where we had set my crutches and kept to the perimeter as we found our way out. We rode the trolley back out to Fountain Bleu and soon we were back at the hotel. It wasn’t too late when we got back, but Clem and Abolina had already gone to bed. My phone was sitting on the counter and the message light was blinking red.

  The first one was from Banyan, who said that Terry admitted nothing and could only be held for a day without more evidence. So tomorrow night the women of New Orleans would again be under threat from Terry Thibodeax.

  The second message was from my father. He said, “Your mother and I expect to see you on All Saints’ Day and if you don’t come find us we will find you.” End of message.

  I was shaking, and Beau came over to ask what was wrong. I told him, and he said I would never have to be alone with them. He would make sure. I had no intention of talking to my parents, but I did want to pay my respects to my grandmother at the Deveroux plot. I wondered how long I would be able to keep my family at bay.

  All Saints’ Day

  Church the next morning was a beautiful sight. Our little white country building was topped with a steeple, complete with a working bell calling us to worship. The earth around the church was decorated with wildflowers, which were cast in a yellow glow from the morning sun. The women standing on the steps of the church wore flowing dresses that danced in the wind to the same rhythm as the flowers. Abolina fit in to the picturesque scene with her purple floral dress and white sun hat trimmed with a lilac ribbon. I wore a spaghetti strapped red dress with brown flowers and a brown belt, which kept my dress from flowing too freely with the wind. Beau and Clem were both clean-shaven for the first time in weeks.

  We walked through the greeting line on the steps, and when we were through the red double doors I saw not so much as one unfamiliar face. We traversed the crowd shaking hands and finally settled into a wooden pew near the pulpit. Once we were seated and the crowd was quieted I looked to the back of the church and saw there was standing room only. My eyes drew me to one sight in particular, Banyan. He had made it to the service. He was standing in the back, decked out in light khakis and a blue fitted button-up shirt. He looked crisp like he had purchased the clothes just for the occasion. When he saw me he tipped his head to me. I waved, smiled and then turned back to the service. I was sure I was blushing.

  At the conclusion of our services we all paid tribute to our personal saints in the moment of silence. Mine were Josephine, Lisette and my grandmother, the first Fanchon. Then it was time for brunch in the basement. I was pleased that we were joined by Banyan.

  Once food came out, I thanked Banyan for coming, and he told me he thought it was the polite thing to do.

  “Are you a Christian man?” Abolina asked him.

  He nearly spit out his shrimp when she questioned him.

  “I was raised Christian, ma’am, but I don’t observe like I should.”

  “I could say that for a lot of people in this room,” she said staring from me to Beau.

  Banyan asked, “So are you guys Catholic? I have never heard of these holidays you are celebrating.”

  Everybody at the table was surprised by this question, and stopped to look at him. I wasn’t. I knew that as a Yankee he didn’t know better. I filled him in. “We aren’t Catholic. We are Baptist. Everybody around here celebrates All Saints’ though. It’s a southern thing.”

  Abolina wiped her mouth and said, “They don’t celebrate in the north?”

  I shook my head at her. “Only the Catholics, I think.”

  Before we left I thanked Banyan again and told him we were heading to the cemetery. He asked to join us. He wanted to see what our tombs looked like. I invited him along but reminded him that today was just a cleaning party. All Souls’ Day tomorrow was the big show.

  I learned on the drive to the cemetery that Lisette was returned to her grave as promised. I rode out with the entire Chabert clan, and when we arrived the place was hopping. We found a spot not too far away from the girls’ plot. Clem and J.B. were already there and carrying in the flowers. We followed them to the tomb and found Abolina inside sweeping cobwebs off the ceiling.

  There were people up and down the cemetery doing the same. Many of them were dressing the doors with flowers. I wanted to go in and pay my respects to Josephine and Lisette, but my mind was on my father. I wanted to get visiting my family out of the way and get on to the celebration of All Saints’. As soon as Banyan arrived I grabbed him and we headed down the lane to the Deveroux plot.

  My grandmother and uncles were buried there. When we arrived my family was standing around the tomb, not talking and looking miserable. My father first took notice of me, followed by my mom. She looked thinner than the last time I had seen her. They were both wearing thick woolen clothes for no good reason, but then they always dressed in extremes. My aunt and uncles were wearing the same ridiculous clothes. The whole lot of them looked like something out of a macabre story, dreadful and pale.

  I walked past them without a word, into the crypt as Banyan followed. The inside of our tomb was just like my family, darker and drearier than all the others. The markers inside were devoid of any adornments, no dates or floral decoration like the other tombs. I went to my grandmother’s concrete sarcophagus and saw her name simply carved, with no dates or information about her, “Here lies Fanchon Deveroux.” That was it, not loving grandmother, not the date. I kissed my fingers and set them to my grandmother’s plaque and said, “Defan Mamere.”

  I looked at Banyan and said, “It means dear sainted Grandma.” He nodded his head.

  My father walked into the crypt and stood at the doorway. “I am glad to see you made it around.”

  “I didn’t come for you. I came for Mamere. Now get out of my way.” He didn’t move, but I felt bold with Banyan behind me. I hobbled up to him and sternly said, “Move!”

  He looked at Banyan and yielded. After he stepped aside he said, “Don’t forget what I told you last night.”

  I knew he was referring to the line about picking a switch, but I ignored it. My mother tried to get my attention as I walked out, but I had nothing to say to her so I kept moving.

  When we were out of earshot Banyan said, “I don’t know how that’s your family. They look like the most miserable group of people I have ever seen.”

  “They are a very miserable group of people. They hate anybody not in the family. They tried to keep me away from kindness for years with home schooling. Finally, in junior high I started with the other kids and met Josephine. If it weren’t for her I would be just like them. She was my salvation,” I said, heading back down the lane. “Let’s go visit her.”

  We spent the afternoon at the Chabert tomb. We told our best stories about Josephine and Lisette while we played cards at a table set up outside. Visitors from other family plots came by to see us, and late in the afternoon we made the rounds to our friends. My family never came to visit, and we didn’t visit them. They kept to themselves and everybody let them be.

  Banyan enjoyed being there with us, I thought. When we were alone
he said he felt it was a little morbid that we party with our dead. I told him that back before modern sanitation, the yearly cleaning of the tombs was practical to keep the place from stinking and over time people started doing it together and before they knew it Saints’ was just another reason to party. Nowadays science and modern concrete preserve the bodies better, but we won’t pass up a reason to drink and celebrate.

  Banyan had to leave before dark to get back to the police station. He said he only had one more day in Louisiana and then he was going back.

  “Goodbye for how long this time?” I asked. And he shook his head.

  “We will see how things play out, Fanchon.” I walked him out to the car. He looked around and when he was sure nobody was looking he gave me a kiss on the forehead and left.

  Beau and I drove back from the cemetery together and stopped for dinner at a bar and grill. The place was packed with other Saints’ day celebrants and compounding the crowd was a Saints football game. We kept our orders easy, pre-made po’ boys and beer. It was getting loud in the bar so we didn’t get to talk much, but at half-time he asked me, “So, now that your lawman is out of town, what you feelin’?”

  “What do you mean, Beau?” I asked.

  “Stop playin’ dumb, Fan. I have come right out and told you I am sweet on you. You let me kiss your head, dance with you and take you out to dinner. Where we goin’?”

  “Beau, I am just not interested right now.”

  He turned to watch the television and slammed his beer on the counter. He looked angry.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked him.

  Looking back at me he said, “Yeah, you know what, Fanchon? I do. Thanks for nothin’. You been lettin’ me trot you all over the great state of Louisiana. I buy you clothes, food and act as your personal chauffer and you give me one damn fine kiss in the middle of the night, and we never touch again. I’m sick of it, Fanchon and done wit it. You can get your own damn lift to your next appointment. Or better get a car and learn how to drive wit dat FUBAR leg and stop takin’ advantage of me and Clem and Abolina.”

  The last part stung. I didn’t think I was taking advantage if they wanted to help. I thought of them as family. I got up, reached into my purse, pulled out a wad of cash and threw it on the bar.

  “I wouldn’t want to be accused of taking advantage,” I shouted to him and stormed to the door.

  He yelled after me, “Finally, the girl opens her wallet.”

  I got outside and made my way over to the truck, which was parked in a thick of trees away from the main parking lot. Every spot around the bar was taken when we arrived so we made our own parking space. My foot got a little stuck in the mud on the way out, but I kept on moving. I pulled down the tailgate on the truck and pulled myself up so I could sit. I didn’t want to ride back with Beau, but I didn’t know who else to call. I grabbed my cell phone and examined my speed dial list. Number one was Josephine. Followed by Clem, Beau, J.B., my old neighbor Jay and F.A.O. Schwartz. I lay back in the truck and looked at the stars.

  Then I remembered that I could still call Banyan. I pulled out my phone and started to dial when I felt something grab my foot and pull me hard to the ground. That’s the last thing I remember before I blacked out.

  All Souls’ Day

  When I came to my arms and legs were bound and I was on a cold hard surface. I looked around, and it appeared I was in a metal box. I felt motion side-to-side and realized I was in the back of a truck, a moving truck. I looked down and saw that I was tied with rope and there was something soft over my mouth. I moved my head as much as I could and was greeted by nothing but wide open metal spaces and light from around the edges of what I gathered was the door.

  The ride was gentle, and I considered who might be driving. I wondered if it was Stepwald. He got his alligator here; maybe he had been following me all this time, waiting for a chance to get me alone. I planned how I would fight him. I coiled my legs and planned to kick him with both legs as soon as he was close enough. It would be an unusual fight, me with one working leg and him with one working arm.

  The vehicle started to slow down. I heard the crunching of dirt under the tires and then the wheeze of airbrakes, as the truck came to a stop. I heard steps as someone walked around to the back and the door slid partway open.

  “Fanchon,” the voice said sheepishly. “Are you up?”

  I knew that voice. It was Terry Thibodeax.

  I pretended I was still out and used the time it bought me to think about what was happening and why.

  He hopped into the truck and stepped behind me. He reached his hand around to my shoulder. “Get up Fanchon.”

  When I didn’t wake he rolled me over so we were nose to nose and slapped me across the face.

  “Wake up,” he yelled.

  I opened my eyes a bit and pretended to still be groggy. He said, “I need some information, Fanchon.”

  I stared at him, which was all I could do with my mouth gagged.

  “I need your PIN number,” he said holding up my ATM card.

  If I hadn’t been gagged I would have been laughing. But instead it came out a muffled, indecipherable sound. He rolled the gag off of my mouth and asked me what I said.

  “I’m not telling you my PIN, Thibodeax. You’ll have to kill me first,” I said.

  He reached over and grabbed me by my hair and pounded my face into the floor. The metal made a ringing sound from the hit. It stung, but it had nowhere near the force behind it that I had experienced from Stepwald.

  “You don’t mean that,” he said. “I need money, and I know you and Josephine had a ton of it.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Is it because you helped kill Lisette?”

  “Shit no. Nobody killed Lisette.”

  “What do you mean nobody killed her? She is dead,” I said.

  “Just because she died doesn’t mean she was killed. Nah. That was just a damn accident. I was just trying to move her to Jimmy’s boat, and I thought she had her bearings enough to stand while I pulled the boat over. When I let go of her she fell into a brass bell we had fixed to the post on our dock. When I lifted her up I saw that her head split and spilled out everywhere. I threw her in the boat, and then I pitched the dock bell into the water and left the mess for Jimmy. I don’t kill women, Fanny. I love them.”

  “Then what am I doing here?” I said, noticing the irony of how my head was seeping blood that he spilled while he was claiming he didn’t kill women.

  “Self preservation,” he said. “Now give me the PIN number.”

  It just registered that he said a dock bell.

  “Was that you out by the water a few months ago, when I heard dinging in the woods?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I had to get rid of that damn thing. Once I realized they were going to check more on Lisette I knew I had to get it far away from me.”

  “Are you planning to kill me, Terry? Because most people don’t just admit their crimes to their victims then let them live. I am inclined to believe you are going to kill me, so why would I give you my numbers to make it easier for you to get away.”

  “Fanchon, I have no mind to kill you. I just need to get the hell out of town. If you give me your numbers I will take the money and skedaddle.”

  “Sure,” I said and prattled off four random numbers.

  He looked down at me, slapped me across the face again and said, “Say them numbers again?” I tried but did not remember them correctly. “How do I get you to tell me the truth, eh?” he asked. Then he slid the gag back up over my mouth and sucked his teeth for a minute. He looked down at my leg then back up to my face.

  My eyes were wide, and he knew he had me. “I hear if you don’t take good care of your leg, you gonna lose it, cher. Shame to lose it over a little bit of money.”

  I nodded my head in understanding, and he slid the gag back down. I gave him the real numbers this time.

  “Just so you know. If this number be wrong I will make sure the other leg mat
ches the first for good measure.”

  He made sure my restraints were tight and that my mouth was covered then got out of the truck. I expected him to start it again. He didn’t, so I assumed we were close enough to an ATM for him to use it. I thought he still might be planning to kill me, but then I thought if he is using an ATM they all have cameras so he must be confident he will be gone before it matters. He might be right. I had a lot of money in that account, and he would be able to get pretty far on it. I remembered back when I set up the account I set a $5,000 withdrawal limit, so stupid Terry wouldn’t be able to get as much as he thought.

  In a few moments he returned to the truck, lifted the gate and said, “Thank you, sweet cherie. We would be on our way now if you hadn’t set a limit. Now we got to move to de next one. The bank machines don’t talk to each other till the end of the day so I have to keep going till I have enough. It’s going to take a while to get what I need this way. You hang tight back here, and I will get you some water. Gettin’ nasty hot out.”

  He was not as much of an idiot as I thought. We drove for hours stopping and starting over and over again. It was getting extremely hot in the back of the box. My skin was burning if I left it too long on the metal, so I had to keep rolling. At long last he got me water, though it wasn’t what I had expected. He bought a freezing cold gallon of it and poured it on me.

  “Dat should cool you down,” he said. I was drenched and enough hit the ground in front of me for me to lap it up through my rag. Thankfully it cooled the bottom of the truck enough to stop the burning.

  The light in the truck was fading. The sun was going down, and I wondered how this would end. He made more frequent stops tossing me back and forth in the back of the truck. I counted that he had hit ten ATMs, so he must have had around fifty thousand of my dollars, about half of my savings.