Parker joined the other two children and finished the twenty-five math problems in short time.
Before Ray got home, the door chime reverberated. Larkin answered to find Lawrence Dantzler on her porch. She scowled. "Come to interrogate me?"
"No, although you did teach Miss Horn.
"I recognized her picture. As I recall, she was an average student. I think she got a B in my class. It would have been three years ago. If you aren't here to talk to me, what do you want?"
"I need to speak with this kid that Ray told Chris about."
"Without a lawyer?"
"He's a minor. I guess you're his parent. You can be present."
"I don't like it." She took a step closer to a man that was a foot and half taller than she was. Lawrence stepped back.
With a huff, she showed Dantzler to the table where the children were doing homework and shooed Christopher and Courtney away with a stern warning not to come downstairs until she called them. Then, she introduced Lawrence to Parker, who held his breath. Here goes the ax, he thought.
To both Parker's and Larkin's surprise and relief, Dantzler talked casually to Parker and subtly asked questions about a number of dead people. After only about ten minutes, the big man stood and shook Parker's hand. Not a killer. Not a mean bone in this boy's body.
Larkin escorted her unwanted guest to the front door. "Relax," he said. "I had to do my job. That kid is not a suspect, but you are one feisty little lady. I think you could have brained me if I had tried to take him into custody."
"Damn right," she snarled.
Lawrence laughed. "And Chris and Ray wonder why you could be a person of interest."
"Am I?"
"Not really." He walked down the steps and chuckled all the way to his car.
Ray came in an hour later with a manila envelope. Larkin told him about the FBI's visit. Through clenched teeth he muttered, "Damn it, but he had to do his job."
A little later, Raif, Chris, and family arrived with Chinese takeout. Everybody congregated in the living room. Ray held up the envelope. "Well?"
"You read it," said Parker. "I'm too scared."
Ray opened the envelope and read the DNA analysis. He looked at Parker who seemed to holding his breath. Almost inaudibly Parker whispered, "Please, God?"
Ray nodded.
"Yes?" asked Parker
"Yes."
"Yes!" The boy punched the air.
Ray held out both arms. Parker fell into his father's embrace.
10 A Long Good-bye
The attendance at Robert LaFontaine's funeral held at Christ the King Catholic Church in Baton Rouge ranged from actual homeless victims to foreign dignitaries. On top of the closed coffin, Deanna LaFontaine placed a flattering portrait in which Robert's hair had not begun to thin and his pale blue eyes looked wistful. Even in the end, she maintained the illusion that Robert was a family man as she and her two children and Robert's parents, Evan and Alexis, sat together in solidarity.
The words of the priest brought little comfort to those who knew the Senator intimately. Kimberly cried softly on her mother's shoulder as Alexis LaFontaine dabbed her eyes. Deanna looked tired, but she held up well under real pressure. The men in the family seemed stoic. Evan LaFontaine looked dejected with dark circles beneath his eyes and deep lines in his forehead while Kyle glowered at the picture, but shed no tears. Raiford Reynolds thought if the boy were not only ten, the expression on his face would bump him to the top of the suspect list.
Some of the officials at the service seemed genuine about their feeling of loss. Others appeared to be performing a duty as required of their office. Among the common folk, the sentiment seemed to be that they had lost an advocate. Some of Robert's ideas for social reform had held merit. Even Ray had liked many of Robert's political stances except his views on government involvement in family matters came as too liberal to Ray's way of thinking.
Six state troopers served as pall bearers. It was fitting since Robert had been quite supportive of law enforcement, fighting for increased safety measures and better compensation and benefits, a stance Ray had really liked. One young trooper with close-clipped chestnut hair and hazel eyes seemed particularly moved as he unabashedly wiped tears from his cheeks. Ray thought this must be one of the state troopers often called upon to guard the LaFontaine family, though Ray paid little close attention to most of the mourners. He was feeling a real sense of loss himself.
Bagpipes played "Amazing Grace" at the solemn interment, and Larkin prayed that, perhaps, the man had found Grace. The coffin was draped in an American flag instead of flowers, which was fitting for Robert had been a weekend warrior of the National Guard from the time he was eighteen. The young trooper who appeared to be the leader of the state police contingent presented the flag to the Senator's son who glared with as much hatred at the officer as he had at the portrait of his late father.
After the funeral, only family and close friends were invited to the LaFontaine's home for a traditional wake. Deanna personally invited Ray and his family to come back to the house.
As Ray placed a scoop of hash-brown casserole on a plate, Kyle brushed against him and raced up the stairs, presumably to his room. This child's face flushed scarlet, but his light blue eyes appeared glazed.
Deanna stopped by her husband's old friend. "He refuses to cry," she murmured to Ray. "Maybe you can talk to him a moment before you leave."
"You know it." He looked up the stairs. "He looks so much like his father."
Deanna nodded. "Thanks. Saul needs to speak to you a minute. Apparently, Robert left you something to be opened in case of his death." She shrugged. "I have no idea what it could be. Instructions are for your eyes only."
Ray set the plate back on the buffet table. "I don't have much appetite anyway. Where's Saul?"
"Robert's study."
He dipped his head toward Deanna and found the family lawyer.
"Saul, what's this about?"
Saul Blackwell held up a sealed envelope. "Robert told me to give this to you when he died."
"Was he expecting something?"
"No. Nothing like that. He even said if you died before him to burn it and to never open it." Saul handed Ray the communication. "So, now I've done my duty. Ray, Deanna told me the whole story. You'll find out soon enough—she and I are lovers. Just in case I'm a suspect, I didn't kill the ass. I would have strangled him and watched his eyes grow cold if I had. He was a heartless bastard. Now, I'll leave you to whatever secret he deemed you worthy to know."
"You know I have to add you to the suspect list now, right?"
"Yeah." Saul gave a curt nod and left the room.
Ray weighed the envelope. "What now, Rob? Even from the grave you torment me. Do I even want to read this shit?" He sighed and broke the seal.
He unfolded the paper and read:
Dear Ray, First, I apologize fo r all the bullshit and grief I've caused you. I really never wanted to hurt you. Au contraire—I wanted to spare you hurt. Mia—she was one crazy bitch. You're better off without her. Larkin—well, I was just wrong. She loves you. For that, I am grateful.
Something happened recently which compels me to bare my soul. No, I won't give details, just my own explanation— confession. Telling you will be better than a priest any day. For so long, you were my best friend. God! How I miss those days! So, heregoes.
I love you. I always have and I always will. Ray, I'm bisexual—well, gay, but I do like an occasional good time with a beautiful woman. In all honesty, I have not hadintercoursewithanother woman since I married Deanna. It's not what I want.
Breathe.
Take a migraine pill.
Just finish the letter.
I do love Deanna inmy own way, and
my kids—though I am a lousy father. God, Ray! Think ofmy example. I am involved with someone. He almost, not quite, but almost, means as much to me as you once did.
Now to explain why I treated you so deplorably—If I couldn't have
you, I didn't want anyoneelseto have you. Ask your twin. I think he picked up on a lot you closed your eyes(and heart) to.
Anyway, if you're reading this, I'm dead. It might have been a day, a decade, fifty years since I penned it, but I'm dead. And youare alive.
I have a favor to a sk of you—you did agree to be my children's godfather in spite of all the bad blood. Take care of them, although I'm certain that if this finds you while they are still young, Deanna will marry Saul, and he'll be a good stepfather. LOL! Yes, I know about them. My lover keeps good tabs on her, keeps her safe, but discreetly.
I just hope some part of you loves me just a little and that you can forgive me. I do love you,Raiford MichaelReynolds.
Now, burn this damned letter and take my secret to your grave—unless revealing it can save Kyle. Kim will be fine, but I worry about my son.
Rob Ray buried his face in the paper and wept. Then, he crumpled the letter and stuffed it in a pocket. He stood and retrieved a photo album from a shelf. It was labeled "1984." Over half the photos were of him and Robert in first grade. He put it back and got another. Robert had chronicled the years, even having a few pictures from the time when their relationship had been strained. Slowly, the snapshots changed to family. Ray spent much time looking at old photographs. He cried again. He just could not celebrate a life that he thought wasted. "Thanks a lot, you asshole," Ray muttered just as Kyle entered the study in the hope of escaping the crowd.
"Sorry," he said and turned to leave.
"No, Kyle, come in," said Ray. "Look at these pictures with me." His voice broke for a moment. "I'll tell you about the Robert LaFontaine I once knew."
Kyle sat in the tan leather chair across from Ray, who was on the matching sofa, and asked bitterly, "Was he nicer then?"
Ray realized the boy was very angry; nonetheless, he answered honestly, "Yes. Yes, he was. You know, you look a lot like him. When we were your age, we were best friends.
"Robert loved spending time at my house. He absolutely loved to sleep over when he knew my mother was making her roast with potatoes and carrots smothered in gravy. And for breakfast, Mom always fried bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese, and baked biscuits, not little things, but cat-head biscuits." The man made a circle with his fingers of a good four-inch diameter. "Robert would eat three of them with butter and blueberry jam." Ray made a motion as if slathering the bread. "I'm surprised he never got fat. Of course, we did play baseball together. Robert had a great pitching arm. With me as catcher, we were unstoppable. We could just about read each other's minds." Why didn't I ever realize his feelings went much deeper?
Kyle pursed his lips and nodded. There was a long silence before Kyle stated, "I hate baseball. I played because he forced me to. I'm not my father. I don't want to be like my father. He didn't love me, you know. So, why do I have to endure this long good-bye?"
Ray responded gently, "I'm sure he loved you, Kyle. He just had a hard time showing it. How can a father not love his child?" Ray thought momentarily of Parker and his lack of a mother's love. He looked toward the door where he knew his son was in the other room having to endure a long good-bye where he felt uncomfortable. At least Parker is with Larkin and Raif, both of whom know how to love abundantly.
The boy in the study pointed toward where the mourners were gathered. "Who's that boy with Dr. Reynolds? I never saw him before."
"He's my son. I just found out about him."
"Do you love him?"
"Yes." Ray nodded. "I'm just getting to know him, but he's easy to love."
Kyle narrowed his eyes. "Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I'm not loveable."
"No." Ray shook his head. A long silence followed while the child picked at the piping on the chair cushion.
Kyle smiled crookedly. "Did you love my dad, Mr. Reynolds?"
"We were once close. He was my best friend for twenty years, more like a brother a long time ago. When we were in college, we were roommates. We went together to get tattoos."
"Dad's was so ugly," Kyle said. "Is yours like his?"
"No. I got a Celtic guardian."
"Can I see?"
"Sure." Ray unbuttoned his shirt and lifted his undershirt as he turned around to show Kyle his shoulder.
"I like that better," Kyle said.
"I did too. Robert's was ugly, kind of scary."
"What are the scars from?" asked Kyle as Ray re-buttoned his shirt.
"That happened when Latrice Descartes escaped and tried to kill my brother and Larkin. She sort of ambushed me when I went to Larkin's house."
"I've heard about her. She was real scary. Was she scarier than my dad?"
"Much." Ray took a deep breath. "One of the scariest people I ever met."
Kyle pursed his lips. "What did he do to hurt you?"
"I don't think it's necessary to discuss that," Ray said as he re-tucked his shirts. I'm kind of glad I never knew about his real feelings.
"It must have been pretty bad. I guess my dad had a way of hurting those he 'loved.'" Kyle used his fingers to make quote signs. "What I say is, 'Good riddance.'"
"Kyle, you don't mean that."
The boy shrugged. "I don't know. At least now I really don't have a dad, so when people ask me where my father is, I can actually tell them he's dead. I won't have to make up a story." He pressed the heels of his hands to his light-blue eyes, refusing to let tears escape though the sound of his voice was choked.
"I'm sorry, Kyle. If you ever need a friend or someone to talk to, call. I am, after all, your godfather."
"Thanks. I guess I had better get back to Mom. I'll suck it up and help her say good-bye."
"I'll go with you. I've already said my good-byes. I'm gonna try to remember the good things. That's what you should do, too."
"I would if I could think of any."
Ray put a hand on Kyle's shoulder, but the boy jerked away as if he were afraid Ray would harm him. The child was hurting far more than Ray could fathom. I don't know how to help him, Rob. Yeah, I loved you a little bit, just not the way you wanted me to.
Kyle and Ray returned to the milling throng. Aching for the child he saw walk away, Ray realized that until this case was put to rest, Robert LaFontaine would, indeed, have a long good-bye.
11 Anger Issues
Mia Godchaux waited outside Senator Robert LaFontaine's Eau Boueuse office on the afternoon of November thirteenth. She had been looking for her son, Parker, since she had gotten out of rehab. That fat social worker and that stupid judge sent him to juvey again, but he didn't go back to the Byrds' when he got out. He had disappeared, but finally, she had tracked him to Robert LaFontaine's office. Does Parker really have the gumption to confront Robert about his parentage?
Parker's behavior when he came out of the office told his mother the meeting had not gone well. He punched the street sign and jammed on his helmet before he burned rubber as he peeled out of the parking lot.
The stench of melted rubber made her wrinkle her nose. "Bastard," Mia muttered as she crossed the street and entered the office.
Dinah Horn, the Senator's bleached-blonde, buxom clerk asked, "May I help you?"
"No, but he can," Mia replied, barging through the inner door unannounced.
"What the hell?" shouted LaFontaine. He furrowed his brow. "Jesus! Are you a zombie or…Mia? Holy shit! You look like death warmed over. Did you send that little prick in here?" He pointed toward the exit.
"No. That little prick is my son, and possibly yours. What did you say for him to be so upset when he left?" She rested her fingertips on the edge of his mahogany desk.
Robert snorted. "That I'm not his father, and I won't have any tests to prove it. If you or he tries anything, I'll have both of you arrested. If you want to shake down somebody, go shake down Raiford Reynolds. He's a better candidate for Father of the Year anyway."
"You've only gotten nastier. Who in their right mind voted for you?"
"Mia, what have you done to yourself? What are you strung out on?
I'm sure it's harder than pain killers." He signed a document and closed a folder. With one hooded eye, he looked at a spot on his desk where he was sure he had laid some cash earlier. He scowled and glanced past his former lover.
"Listen to me," he said in a low growl. "I don't want that little thief even if he is mine. You should have aborted him. Moreover, I sure as hell don't want you. I never did." He laughed coldly. "You've never understood. I didn't want you back then. I wanted Ray. The only way to have him was to get rid of you. My plan backfired. I finally realized Ray was a lost cause and moved on."
"Wouldn't the press love to hear that little declaration?" asked Mia with an underlying threat in her voice.
"Try it, and little Parker will be an orphan. I have connections."
Mia laughed and leaned across the desk to be close to his face. "You really are a cold, heartless son-of-a-bitch, aren't you? One day, Robert, you'll get what's coming to you. I swear it." Mia turned on her heel and left as abruptly as she had entered.
A couple of hours later as darkness fell, Robert LaFontaine and his pretty young clerk got into Robert's Mercedes and left. A healthy distance behind them, Mia followed on her motorcycle.
♥♥♥ Mia watched the press conference with interest. She had thought that after striking out with Robert LaFontaine, Parker would have approached Ray. He knew she had been with both men at the same time. However, he was nowhere to be seen.
Mia watched as Ray obviously chided a reporter. From her angle, she saw a man enter the police station from the side entrance. Who is that? He looks exactly like Ray who has change very little in eighteen years.
Ray had not gained weight, and he appeared to have perfect muscle tone. At six feet, he was still around one hundred eighty-five pounds. The only real evidence that Ray had aged at all was gray in his charcoal hair at his temples and fine lines around his mesmerizing sapphire-blue eyes. The other man looks exactly the same.
Forty-five minutes of waiting brought both men out the side entrance. They got into an impressive modern fuelefficient Lexus and drove away. Still, there was no sign of Parker. Mia knew Parker would find a place to sleep, although he had not checked into any of the shelters the night before. He would have to eat and sleep sooner or later.
Heartless (The Raiford Chronicles) Page 9