pull him back into the heroin. He left me a phone number. I
still have it." He pulled a ragged wallet from his pocket and
took out a scrap of paper. "He told me to call if things got
unbearable and he would come and take me away."
"Why didn't you call?"
"He wasn't my father." His eyes darted to the ceiling. "I
always wanted to meet my father."
A half-truth. Why lie now when he's been so honest? Ray
closed his eyes to stop unwanted tears. "Go on," he whispered. "Well, when Fritz left, I checked on Mom. She was high
again. That was the fifth time I went to a foster home. "Not all the foster homes were horrible. Miss Maxi was
nice. She had four boys living with her. She took good care of
us."
"It’s good to hear some of them were decent," Larkin said. Parker nodded. "The others were tough, especially the last
one, no next to last. The Byrds were awful—Guy and Mitzi. I
spent three months with them. I finally hit back and got sent to
juvey."
"They hit you?" asked Ray. "Define hit."
"Are you asking if it was spanking?"
Ray nodded.
"No. I got a few paddlings in school. This was not
spanking. I can show you if you want."
"There's something to show me?" Ray gripped the edge of
the table.
Parker looked at Larkin. He seemed to draw support from
her. Weird, ran through his mind.
"Show us," she said with a nod.
Letting go of Larkin's hand, Parker started to slip his t-shirt
over his head. "I'm not real comfortable with this."
"Just lift the edges. You don't have to take it all the way
off," Larkin said in an encouraging, coaxing tone.
Parked took a deep breath and lifted one side of the shirt. It
did not take much to realize he had been beaten with some kind
of strap that had broken the skin and left scars on his back and
rib cage.
Larkin could read the fury in Ray's face. "Ray, calm down,"
she warned.
"I'll kill the bastard," muttered Ray through clenched teeth. "Ray, let Parker finish telling us his story. Parker, honey,
what did you do to get sent to juvey the first time?"
How much can I shock them? Do I want to get sent
packing? I have nowhere to go, but Ray will search my record.
At least if I talk, I can tell my side. "Stealing. It was always
stealing. A couple of breaking and enterings."
Ray interrupted, "You weren't armed, were you?" "No!" Parker shook his head. "Unless you consider the
crowbar I used to pry open the window a weapon." He began to
fidget. "Mom couldn't keep a job. I had to eat, and I had to help
Mom."
"You got money for her drugs?" Larkin asked for
clarification.
"Sometimes. Other times, I just raided people's
refrigerators."
"Oh, dear, God," moaned Ray, dropping his face into his
hands. I'm too tired to deal with this shit.
"But I didn't steal the motorcycle," Parker declared. "I
really did buy her, and I really did fix her up. She sort of kept
me out of trouble."
"Yeah, a hobby will do that," said Ray, hoping Larkin
wasn't reading his mind. I have every intention of tracking
down Mia Godchaux and wringing her neck. Ray tried to keep
the conversation going. He asked, "Well, Parker, do I have any
grandchildren anywhere?"
"No. They don't put boys and girls together in juvey, and,
let's face it, I've never been Mr. Popularity."
Larkin had to cover her mouth not to laugh at the response.
"Well, obviously you're straight." She winked at Parker. "And
drug free," she added.
"You bet. I don't ever wanna be like Mom."
Larkin patted Parker's hand. "Good. Now, we have a nice
guest room with its own bath. You're not much bigger than
Christopher. I think his pajamas will fit you, even if they're a
little short. I'm going to raid his closet."
Parker became very self-conscious again. He raised his arm
and sniffed. "Do I stink, Larkin?" he asked.
"Actually, no, but a hot bath and a clean bed will make you
feel a whole lot better." She shook her head. "After you get
comfy, come back and have some anniversary cake for
dessert."
"When was your anniversary?"
"The thirteenth."
"Okay. Thanks. Lead the way."
Parker started to follow Larkin before Ray stopped him.
"Parker, wait a sec. Who was that awful foster family?" "The Byrds."
"And you saw LaFontaine when?"
"The thirteenth—on your anniversary."
"Parker, who was your social worker?"
"Oh, that fat woman. What was her name?" He scratched
his head. "Ms. Vaughn. But not this last time. I had a nice
young lady, Miss Stamper. She put me with the Taggarts.
That's the one I ran away from."
"And who was your judge?"
"Salus, every time." He puffed out a long sigh. "I never got
lucky and got the lady judge. Ray, why are you asking me
these questions?"
"Don't worry about it." He waved his hand and shook his
head. "I just want to know."
"Okay. Can I go take a bath now?"
"Yeah, go ahead. I'll slice us all some cake with a glass of
cold milk. See you in a few minutes."
Parker left with Larkin, and Ray prayed. God, please, don't
let Parker be the connection. He has had enough of a hardknock life. Lord, I know he's mine, but even if he's not, let me
take care of him now.
9 Acceptance
Very early the next morning Larkin tiptoed out the front door as Ray got the morning newspaper. "What are you doing?" Ray asked. "You look as if you still feel awful."
" I’m queasy, but I’ll live." She held up a note pad. "I confess—I went through Parker’s backpack. He’s still asleep. Don’t leave until I get back, and don't wake him."
"Why?" He gave her a stern look.
"Let’s just say he was wearing his best jeans last night. The stores are already opening early for the holidays at our little outlet mall. I’m going shopping. Give me an hour."
"You’re going to spoil him."
"You bet." She gave her husband a quick kiss and rushed to her car.
♥♥♥ Parker awoke in a warm, inviting room. He could not remember ever waking up in a place so pleasant and felt certain he was dreaming. There was no clock to tell the time, but he smelled sausage frying. Getting out of bed, he realized there were new jeans and a shirt across the back of the chair at the antique dressing table in the room. He touched the clothes carefully and checked the tags. They were his size and a brand that he never had been able to afford. On the dressing table sat a bag which contained more clothes, sneakers, personal items, and a card which read:
Parker, Ifyoudon'tiehem,we'lakehembck. Larkin
"Not like them?" Parker said aloud. What kind of woman is this to accept me so readily? What kind of man is this that I've been deprived of my whole life? They came to find me last night. He suddenly felt excited to get downstairs and see these people. He dressed quickly and bounced into the kitchen.
"Well, hello," Larkin said, a broad smile on her face. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, very. What time is it?"
"Almost noon, but that's okay. It's Saturday. Do you like French toast?"
"I've never had it."
Her dark-ch
ocolate colored eyes wide, she asked, "Are you serious?"
He nodded, looking a bit sheepish.
"You're going to love it." Larkin placed the French toast, sausage, syrup, and orange juice on the table. Parker watched what she did and followed her example. The first bite was heavenly. He moaned and closed his eyes. Larkin winked when he opened his eyes again. "I told you."
"It's delicious."
"So, eat up."
"Thank you for the clothes. How could I not like them?"
"So, you do like them, then?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said around another bite.
"Good. We'll have to get you some more."
Parker looked around, a small disappointed scowl on his face. "Where's Ray?" he asked.
"He went into the office. You know he has to be involved in solving Robert LaFontaine's murder."
"LaFontaine's what?" He paused in putting another forkful of breakfast in his mouth. Syrup dripped back onto his plate.
"Murder." She tilted her head to the side. Her wavy auburn hair draped over her shoulder. "You didn't know he was dead?"
Parker shook his head. "No, ma'am."
"Yes. He was murdered the evening of the thirteenth."
His face blanched and his mouth dropped open. The fork clattered onto the plate. "Does Ray think I did it?"
"What?" Larkin's brow knitted in concern. "No, honey. Why would you ask that?"
"Because I went to see him. I told Ray he refused to have a paternity test and he wasn't a nice person. I've been in and out of jail." Parker’s hands shook. He pushed his long hair behind his ears, his eyes darting around the room as if he might bolt.
"Robert wasn't a nice person," affirmed Larkin. "And he was a fool to reject you. I agree with you. Ray doesn't think I killed Robert." She touched her chest. "No, honey." Larkin patted his hand in motherly comfort. "You're perfectly safe here. Ray will do everything in his power to protect you."
Sensing his distress, she changed the subject. "Parker, by Monday we'll know for certain if Ray is your father. I think he is. You have his eyes."
"Robert had blue eyes," said Parker his voice heavy with doubt.
"Not like yours and Ray's. When we have proof, Ray wants to file for custody of you. We need to get you enrolled in school. Are you a senior?"
"Believe or not, yes. I somehow managed to keep up."
"Good. Do you have a problem with Ray's having custody of you?"
"No." He shook his head. "I think I'd like that. But what if he's not my father?"
"We would still like to have you come and live with us. Robert was Ray's college roommate and fraternity brother. No matter how much he hurt Ray, you deserve better. Ray is also Kyle and Kim's godfather."
"Who are Kyle and Kim?"
"Robert's children."
"I don't want Robert to be my father." He dropped his eyes to his plate. "I hope it's Ray. Why aren't you mad at him?" He looked back up through his lashes.
"For something that happened before I ever met him?" Larkin shook her head. "That wouldn't be fair. I knew Ray had been in a serious relationship before we got together. Now, if you were seven instead of seventeen, I'd kill him."
Parker laughed. "Thank you, Larkin. Nobody has ever been this nice to me."
"It has nothing to do with me, Parker. It has to do with my Savior."
"I don't understand."
"You see, I'm just as sinful as the people who have hurt you. The only difference is that I've asked Jesus to live inside of me, in my spirit, and to forgive me for all the sinful things I ever have done or ever will do. When we ask Him for that, He'll do it. Only then, can we do anything really good in and of itself."
"I've been a pretty bad kid."
Larkin took Parker's hand. "That's why Jesus lived a perfect, sinless life, died on the cross, and rose from the dead. If we trust in His work, then, we're forgiven. That doesn't mean we're perfect."
He nodded. "I like the sound of that. Does Ray believe that, too?"
"Yes."
"He still gets mad pretty easily."
"Yes." She grinned. "Like I said, not perfect, just forgiven."
A chime indicated that the front door opened. Larkin squeezed Parker's hand. "We'll talk more later if you want to."
Parker nodded.
♥♥♥
"Hello!" called Raif from the front door. The next voice to chime in was Courtney's as she pranced into the breakfast nook. "Momma, do I smell French toast? I want some."
Raif and the four kids came into the kitchen. Courtney stopped talking in mid-thought.
"Hello, all," Larkin said. "I didn't expect you before dinner."
"We were bored at the house without Chris," explained Raif.
"That's okay. Sit down, and I'll make some more food."
Larkin looked at Parker. It was obvious he was scared to death with his eyes looking like full-blown balloons ready to pop. Larkin stood behind him and patted his shoulders as she began introductions. "Everybody, this is Parker Godchaux. He'll be living with us from now on. Parker, this is Raif, Ray's brother."
Raif shook Parker's hand but looked at Larkin strangely. "Hello, Parker." Raif turned to his children. "These are my kiddos, Patrick and Trista. The other two Munchkins are Christopher and Courtney, Ray and Larkin's kids."
Larkin gave no further explanation until she placed a stack of French toast on the table although the children bombarded Parker with questions.
"Where are you from…How old are you…Where are your parents…Why are you going to be living with us?"
When Larkin put the food on the table, she commanded gently, "Okay, now, everybody stop. Leave Parker alone." Once again, she stood behind him. She put her left arm around him as if shielding him as she smoothed his untidy hair with her other hand and kissed him on the head.
Parker had never felt anything so gentle and comforting. Is this how a mother is supposed to be? He tilted his head backward and looked up at Larkin. He asked timidly, "Are you gonna tell them?"
"Yes, we don't keep secrets in our family. I had hoped Ray would be here, but it seems we can't wait."
"You might explain these, too," said Raif, picking up the baby shoes that still lay on the table. "They look a bit small for Parker."
"Yes, well, we're having another baby. We will take him or her in late June, date yet undetermined. Now, about Parker."
"Whoa!" Raif waved a hand. "Baby?"
"Yes, but don't blab it—any of you."
Raif ran a finger across his lips and gave each child a mock glare. The kids laughed.
Larkin continued her explanation. "Ray and I met Parker yesterday. There's a good chance that Parker is Ray's son with Mia." Larkin looked at Raif, silent communication radiating between them. "Ray and Parker had some tests done, and we'll have the results Monday. Ask your questions now, but be very careful exactly what you say."
Christopher said, "Mia? That was the woman Daddy was engaged to a long time ago, right?"
"Yes."
"So, Daddy slept with her, and you aren't mad?"
"Why would I be mad?" replied Larkin. "It was before I met Ray, and it was before Ray put his trust in Jesus. Remember that."
"Okay, Momma. Don't get hot under the collar." Christopher cocked an eyebrow much like his mother often did. "Are you sure Parker is Daddy's son?"
"Not completely. That's why they did the tests."
"What if he's not?"
"Parker will still live with us. The only other man that might have been his father was Mr. LaFontaine. Y'all know he's dead." Her comforting hand stroked Parker's hair again. "We have no idea where Parker's mother is. He needs a home. I think we have a pretty good one, and I'd like to share it."
"Where will he sleep?" the elder Reynolds child continued to probe.
"Right now Parker is in the second floor guest room. We can make different arrangements later if necessary," Larkin answered.
Courtney chimed in, "How old are you? Are you gonna go to school? I think it will
be cool to have another big brother to pester."
"I'm seventeen," replied Parker. "My birthday is May fifteenth. Yes, I'll go to school."
"Is that your motorcycle outside?" asked Patrick.
"Yes."
"Now, that's cool."
"Thanks. I'll give you ride if it's okay."
All the children began at once to beg their parents to let them ride with Parker.
In unison, Raif and Larkin said, "Later."
Trista piped up, "Well, if Uncle Ray isn't Parker's daddy, you could adopt him. Then, he'd be just like Daddy and Uncle Ray. But I think Uncle Ray is his daddy. He's got the Raiford eyes."
"Yes, he does," said Raif thoughtfully. "Parker, this is a crazy, mixed up family, but we love one another. Larkin will spoil you rotten."
Parker looked up at Larkin again. "She already has. She made me the best breakfast ever, and she bought me some new clothes."
Raif's heart broke for a boy that he felt certain was his nephew. If he feels spoiled by a simple act of kindness, the boy has never known love. Raif knew he needed to talk to his brother. The expression on his sister-in-law's face confirmed his thoughts, and she gave a discreet nod.
♥♥♥ Raiford Reynolds carefully perused the files on his desk, taking time to highlight several items of interest, finally throwing the open file across the room as he muttered, "That bitch." Ray rubbed his head as the migraine from the day before lingered. Once again, he swallowed a rizatriptan before he picked up his phone and called Chris Gautier.
Chris answered, "Hey, boss. What's up?"
"Have you found anything?"
"Nothing helpful. Salus and Vaughn colluded several times
and the Byrds housed many of the kids they removed from their homes; however, nothing ties them to Robert." "Well, I have two more names for you to add to your suspect list. Pencil in the first one because I'm sure it's just as absurd as mine and Larkin's. Are you sitting down?"
"Actually, yes. We're having lunch. Fire away. I've got my notebook out."
"Okay, first name—Parker Godchaux. Vaughn was his social worker, and Salus was both his family court judge and his juvenile court judge. The Byrds were one of his foster families. What happened with Parker is the reason their foster certification was yanked." The chief of police released an angry breath. "They beat the kid, and he fought back. It landed him in juvey, but I've seen the scars. They're real."
Heartless (The Raiford Chronicles) Page 7