All I Want Is Forever

by Lynn Emery

  “Damn it!” he muttered angrily as he pulled onto the narrow gravel shoulder of Highway 1.

  “Step out of your vehicle please.” The state trooper’s voice sounded hollow through the loudspeaker mounted on his car.

  He retrieved his registration card and got out. A tall man the color of milk chocolate with gray hair walked toward him. The trooper’s trained gaze swept the scene. Derrick waited calmly.

  “Do you know why I stopped you, sir?”

  “I was going too fast.” Derrick could have kicked himself.

  “Way too fast. Let me see your license and registration, please.” The trooper stood with his legs apart.

  “I’m with the Pointe Coupee District Attorney’s Office.” Derrick took out his identification card.

  The trooper took it, glanced at Derrick, then walked back to his car. He called in the information, all the time keeping an eye on Derrick. Ten minutes later he walked back.

  “I thought you looked familiar. I’m Brandon Myles. I testified in that drug bust we took down on Highway 190, remember?”

  Derrick squinted at him. “Yeah, too bad they got off so easy.”

  “Defense lawyers make me sick,” Trooper Myles retorted. “What’s the rush? You don’t want to end up spread all over the road.”

  “I got distracted. I’m on my way to interview someone.” Derrick slipped his wallet back into his pants pocket. “How long have you been with the state police?”

  “Twenty-four years and two months. I’ll retire in ten months.” Trooper Myles grinned. “Not that I’m counting.”

  “Right.” Derrick smiled back at him. “You worked these parishes, including Pointe Coupee the whole time?”

  “Just about.” Trooper Myles relaxed his vigilant pose a bit. “I spent maybe four or five years in Troop A first.”

  “You know Jerome Hines? He was an investigator with the Pointe Coupee DA’s Office years ago.”

  “Sure, I know him. Jerry was Barron’s right hand back in the day.” Trooper Myles nodded.

  “I’m on my way to interview him about an old case. I hear he was good.”

  “I guess he got the job done.” Trooper Myles crossed his arms. “So what’s up?”

  “Something strange about how it went down. One of the principals is trying to get paroled,” Derrick said.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “She’s suggesting there was some wrongdoing with the whole deal.” Derrick watched the older man’s expression change.

  “Yeah, well…” Trooper Myles rubbed his jaw. “Like I said, he got the job done. Whatever it took, if you know what I mean.”

  “He bent the rules every now and then,” Derrick said carefully.

  “All I’ll say is this—if I ever testified for those two, I made sure my butt was covered.” Trooper Myles leaned against the 4Runner with one large hand on the vehicle. “I’m all for putting away crooks, but not at any cost. I’ve seen too many of ’em walk because some smart lawyer busted a funny investigation.”

  “I got ya,” Derrick replied with a nod.

  “Don’t get me wrong, Jerry’s a likable enough guy. He just pushed the limits a few times. His place is kinda tricky to find. I’ll lead you there.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “No problem. I’m going on my dinner break anyway. There’s a little café out here that serves the best fried shrimp po-boys in the world.” Trooper Myles gave him a friendly wave, then got into his car.

  Derrick followed him down Highway 1. The white patrol car turned onto Highway 978, then took a sharp turn down another smaller road. Thick shrubs and tall trees crowded right up to the blacktop pavement. Late-afternoon sunlight made the red and gold maple leaves look brilliant. Yet Derrick didn’t notice the autumn beauty. Talia’s angry words kept replaying inside his head. He knew only the passage of time would turn off that awful recording, a very long time. Yet his sense of justice and right drove him on. No way could he simply ignore the loose threads he’d uncovered. Maybe someday Talia would understand.

  Trooper Myles turned onto a gravel driveway that was almost hidden by thick vegetation. Even in mid-October wildflowers bloomed. They rode only a few yards when a wide expanse of green lawn appeared. A large brick wall with the words BAYOU TRACE in bold white letters announced the name of the neighborhood. Upscale homes were scattered about. Myles drove toward a white-and-redbrick two-story house. A long driveway circled in front of the house. Another paved pathway led to a three-car garage on the south side of the house. Derrick parked behind Trooper Myles and got out.

  “Man! I never would have guessed Hines lived here.” Derrick let out a low whistle as he took in the scene.

  “You telling me you don’t make this kinda money working for parish?” Trooper Myles said in droll tone.

  “If Hines financed this lifestyle on his salary, then I’m gonna have a serious talk with my boss,” Derrick quipped.

  “We should all be so lucky.” Trooper Myles wore a tight smile. “But luck had nothing to do with it.”

  “Yeah,” Derrick said.

  He went to the wide double entry doors and pressed the doorbell button. Musical chimes sounded a second later. They waited, but no one came.

  “Nobody in the house I guess.” Trooper Myles walked to his left to a set of windows and peered in. “He’s got an office around back. Maybe he’s there.”

  “Nice place.” Derrick let out a low whistle as they approached a swimming pool with a waterfall in one corner.

  “Jerry Hines lives good, huh?” Myles said over his shoulder. “Here we go.” He pointed to a guest cottage.

  “A car is coming. Maybe they’re coming back from a shopping trip.” Derrick turned around and back toward the garage with Myles following.

  The automatic garage door hummed open just as they emerged. A heavyset woman the color of mahogany drove up in a black BMW. She looked alarmed when she saw them. Dressed in a tan silk pantsuit, she sprang from the car almost before the engine shut off.

  “What’s wrong? Where’s Jerome?” She left the passenger door open.

  “Calm down, ma’am. We came out to talk to your husband. Mr. Hines isn’t here,” Trooper Myles said, taking the lead.

  “Of course he’s here. This is his car. I left him catching up on work.” Mrs. Hines pointed to a pearly white Lexus, then scurried off. “It’s this way.”

  “Jerome,” Mrs. Hines called out as she pushed through the door of the guesthouse. She screamed moments later.

  Hines lay on the floor with his legs at a crooked angle. Dark red stains dotted the light green carpet around him. Mrs. Hines fell to her knees and shook him.

  “Jerome, wake up!” She flailed her arms.

  “Does your husband suffer from heart problems, asthma?” Myles knelt beside her and scanned the prone man from head to toe.

  “No, he’s healthy for a man his age. Do something!” she wailed. Still, she didn’t move aside enough to allow Myles much room.

  “Ma’am, c’mon. Officer Myles knows emergency first aid.” Derrick pulled her back.

  Myles was down on his knees gingerly touching the man’s body. He leaned down and placed his cheek near Hines’s mouth and nose. Then he paced two fingers against his neck.

  All the while Derrick struggled to calm Mrs. Hines. She finally collapsed against him sobbing.

  “Faint pulse, breathing is shallow,” Myles said. He took out his cell phone.

  Derrick managed to tug Mrs. Hines along with him toward the open door. “Let’s go get some first-aid supplies we might need. That way Trooper Myles won’t have to leave your husband.”

  Mrs. Hines nodded eagerly. “I’ve got a kit in the laundry room.

  Derrick glanced over his shoulder and heard Myles say foul play was suspected. He started talking to keep Mrs. Hines from hearing more. She’d have to face the hard truth soon enough.

  “Great. A first-aid kit will be a big help until the paramedics get here.”

  “Jerome believes in being pre
pared. We’ve got two first-aid kits in the house, one downstairs and one upstairs. One in each car, and we had one on our boat.” She chattered on from nerves.

  “Good, good,” Derrick replied vaguely. While she talked he scanned their surroundings. “I’ll get the one upstairs in case we need more supplies.”

  “Look in the second guest bathroom on the top shelf of the closet.” Mrs. Hines went to a wide cabinet near a washer and dryer.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Derrick searched the first floor before he went upstairs to make sure no one was in the house. He did the same thing upstairs and found nothing out of place. Tall windows gave all of the second-floor rooms a lovely view of the neighborhood. Going from room to room, he saw nothing suspicious outside. He found the first-aid kit and went back downstairs.

  “Let’s go back, please. I’ve got to help Jerome.” Mrs. Hines rushed off ahead of him.

  Myles was still talking into his cell phone when they arrived. “Yeah, he’s barely hanging on,” he said.

  “Oh my God!” Mrs. Hines pushed Myles aside and fell to her knees next to her husband.

  “Don’t move him, ma’am. We don’t know what kind of injuries he has.” Trooper Myles managed to scoop the plump woman up into his arms. “The ambulance is about ten minutes away. I’ve done as much as I can for him. He’s holding on.”

  “Mr. Hines is a tough guy from what I know of him.” Derrick nodded at Myles over her head. Myles handed her off to him.

  “What will I do without him?” Mrs. Hines went down on her knees next to her husband and sobbed.

  “Try to be strong,” Derrick said, and patted her back.

  “Looks like he did a good job of defending himself. He’s got bruises on the knuckles of both hands,” Myles said quietly to Derrick.

  “Yeah, this room shows it, too.” Derrick glanced around. Two chairs, a table, and a small bookshelf were turned over.

  The high whining sound of sirens sliced through the air coming closer. Minutes later the small guesthouse was swarming with people. The emergency medical technicians treated Hines while talking into radios to get instructions from a doctor. Then they put him on a gurney. Mrs. Hines, once again wailing in distress, followed them.

  “Please, let me go with him in the ambulance,” she said.

  “No problem. A familiar voice will be a comfort to him,” one of the emergency technicians said.

  Mrs. Hines stopped crying and looked at Derrick hard. “Make sure my house is locked up tight. I don’t want some thief stealing me blind.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Derrick replied.

  “Give me your card so I can get in touch with you later,” she commanded. She looked at Trooper Myles. “I want your card, too. Y’all better not tear up my house either.”

  “We’ll do our best.” Trooper Myles handed her one of his cards.

  “You’ll pay for anything you break. I don’t have no cheap stuff,” she clipped. Then she turned on the tears again.

  “Man!” Myles muttered.

  “She’s probably already calculating her widow’s benefits,” Derrick quipped.

  “I’d hate to wake up in a hospital bed with her bending over me.” Myles shook his head and joined two sheriff’s deputies.

  Derrick watched from the sidelines. He knew better than to get underfoot. The state police had sent a crime scene unit out. Two men took their time making a list of everything in the room. One drew a diagram while the other called out the location of furniture and other items. Nothing found was considered trivial or irrelevant. The shorter man then took photos at different angles.

  “You Guillory?” a sheriff’s deputy asked.

  “Yeah.” Derrick glanced at the tall redheaded woman.

  “Your boss wants you back at the office.”

  “What?”

  “I’m just deliverin’ a message.”

  “Thanks.” Derrick took out his cell phone and called the office.

  Talia rubbed her back when she stood. The padded blue hospital chair was old and not very comfortable. Within forty-eight hours of her surgery Monette’s condition had stabilized. She’d been moved from intensive care to a room two days earlier. Since that time she’d slowly gained more and more strength. Talia walked over to the bed and stared down at her mother. Monette seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

  Talia stretched, then went to the fourth-floor window. She pushed aside faded curtains to stare out. The view was as disheartening as the dingy pale green walls around her. Traffic moved sluggishly along the four-lane highway below. Brown tuffs of grass dotted the few places it grew. She watched birds sail through the bright blue autumn sky. Signs of hope, she mused, without feeling any inside.

  “Hey, you,” Monette said in a low scratchy voice.

  Talia whirled around and went to the bed. “You took a long nap.”

  “Yeah,” Monette croaked. She gazed at the room, moving only her eyes. “Lousy interior design. State?”

  “The charity hospital in Baton Rouge.” Talia smoothed down the sheets around her.

  Monette winced when she tried to shift in the bed. “Damn! That bitch tapped me good.”

  “Be still,” Talia replied.

  “Shoulda told me that before,” Monette wisecracked. “Glad you’re here.” She winced in pain again, but still lifted her hand.

  Talia held onto the hand gently. “Had a close call, Monette,” she said quietly.

  “Tell me about it,” she said hoarsely and rubbed her neck. “My throat feels like I’ve been eatin’ sand.”

  Talia poured water into a plastic cup and held the straw while Monette sipped slowly.

  “That’s better.”

  “The warden is looking into the fight,” Talia said as she refilled the cup. She put it on the table close by, so Monette could reach it easily.

  “Lotta good that’s gone do. Nobody will talk.” Monette shifted again. This time she was successful in moving a bit to her right. “Better.”

  “You amaze me. I’d be screaming for action.”

  Monette shook her head slowly. “Survival, honey. You learn to deal with a lot when you’re locked up.” Monette closed her eyes for a moment then they snapped back open. “What else is happening?”

  “In the world, state, or Rougon? You’ve been out of it almost six days now. Better turn on the news.” Talia reached for the television remote.

  “No. I mean what else happened that’s connected to me. Derrick say anything about Jerome Hines?” Monette’s eyes sparkled with intensity.

  “I haven’t talked to Derrick, and I don’t intend to. Between your theatrics and his playing detective, you were almost killed.” Talia’s anger flooded back.

  “Blamin’ him don’t make a bit of sense, girl. I was gonna take my chances whether he helped me or not.”

  “As usual the quiet approach isn’t your style.” Talia crossed her arms and grimaced at her.

  “Ain’t no other way. If you knew everything, you’d understand.” Monette touched her fingertips to her hair gingerly. “I must need a perm real bad. Any reporters been around?”

  “This isn’t a game,” Talia snarled. “All my life you—” She clenched her back teeth until her jaws ached.

  “Go on let it out.”

  “Forget it.” Talia went back to the window.

  “I was on my own with nobody who gave a damn,” Monette said.

  “Right,” Talia retorted. Neither spoke for several minutes.

  “Talia? Come on and look at me.” Monette sniffed when Talia turned to her. “Can we get past the anger for a while? Seems like I never had much more between me and my kids.” A tear slid down her cheek.

  Talia swallowed a lump in her throat. Her mother sounded like a sad little girl. When Monette stretched out her arms, Talia went to her, and they embraced for the first time in many years. Feeling awkward, they let go after a few seconds.

  “I know we got a ways to go. I hope we can at least be friends,” Monette said softly. �
�I know Miz Rose is your true mama in a lotta ways.”

  “I won’t lie to you, Monette. You’re right about Mama Rose.” Talia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “But I never stopped loving you. I just didn’t like you very much.” She handed her several tissues from a box on the bedside table.

  “Baby, I’ve been trying real hard. I still ain’t got wings, but I’m not what I used to be.” Monette smiled through sniffles. She dabbed at her eyes and nose. “You’re smart and strong like your mama. Once I handle my business the world will know me.”

  “I thought you were going to change.”

  “I’m a work in progress.” Monette grinned at her.

  Talia laughed. “You could talk the devil into installing air-conditioning in hell.”

  “With all the stuff I’ve done, I may get the chance,” Monette joked.

  Talia grew serious again. “Now about that meeting with your lawyer.”

  “What do you—” Monette stopped when Talia faced her with a frown. “Okay. Better talk to Jim soon I guess.”

  “Stop lying to him. You should have told him everything from the beginning.” Talia squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. She swallowed her anger. “Just talk to him.”

  “Sure. Give him a call for me, will ya? Don’t tell the nurses, or they’ll put a stop to it. Y’all just come like it’s a regular visit.” Monette smoothed her sheets around her.

  Her comment brought Talia up short. “Maybe we should wait.”

  “We got to move now. Before they do somethin’ else.”

  Talia shivered at her words. “Then let’s meet tomorrow evening. That will give you another sixteen hours to sleep. I’ll call Professor Rand.”

  “And Derrick.” Monette eyed Talia with her brows drawn together.

  She felt a stab of pain at the prospect of seeing him. “And Derrick,” Talia agreed finally.

  Chapter 18

  Derrick walked into Monette’s hospital room. Rand stood close to the bed talking to Monette in a low voice. Talia sat several feet away, legs crossed. Derrick’s gaze drifted from her lovely round face down to the shapely limbs showcased by black hosiery and a short black skirt. The contrast with her businesslike crisp gray linen shirt with large cuffs only heightened the sensuous effect. His first thought was how long it had been since he’d held her. Talia wore an emotionless expression when she looked back at him.