by Gerald Lopez
“Everyone knows who it is,” Mrs. Carson said. “The question is, who exactly was the Javina imposter who came back from France?”
“Could it have been someone your grandfather and uncle met during their time away?”
“I’m not sure,” Mrs. Carson said. “We need to find out who she was and how she’s connected to what happened.”
“Mrs. Carson, why are you so sure your uncle had a special friend at the bordello?” I said. “You mentioned more than once that you thought he might’ve had a woman there he couldn’t bring around because she was black.”
“Well, he had friends from that house and I heard them talk about the good times they had there once or twice.”
“Were these friends of the male or female persuasion?” I said. “I’m only asking because your uncle was gay and having a lifelong affair with your grandfather—and your grandmother knew all about it.”
That was a dirty trick on my part and I knew it to the point that hearing myself say the words turned my stomach. Mrs. Carson didn’t deserve what I’d just done. Shannon gasped, but Mrs. Carson was unmoved.
“That’s just a soldier turned detective’s shock and awe technique,” Mrs. Carson said. “If I wasn’t so impressed at the size balls you have to do what you did, I’d slap you, Layton.”
“Elise must’ve talked to you and told you our theories,” I said. “And I apologize, Ma’am. It’s not that I don’t trust you absolutely and completely. I was just trying to see how you’d react to the idea of your uncle and grandfather being together as a way of judging how others might’ve reacted.”
“That was cruel,” Shannon said. “But it does make sense, although Mrs. Carson is more enlightened than people back then would’ve been.”
“I wasn’t surprised when Elise told me,” Mrs. Carson said. “And I forgive you, Layton. Remember, you’re here to solve a mystery that’s plagued this house for far too long. It wasn’t obvious that my grandfather and uncle were a couple, at least not to me at the time. But, when Elise told me your theory, I began remembering small things such as the tiniest secret smile between my uncle and grandfather, or a lingering glance. They were both so loving to us kids and so gentle and kind to my mother.” She paused, seemingly lost in thought before she continued again. “I suppose the fact that my grandparents had separate bedrooms for as long as I can remember should’ve said something to me.”
“Not necessarily,” I said. “If your grandfather and your uncle were that discreet when you knew them, then it wouldn’t have been obvious to others at the time of the twin’s death.”
“You don’t think the twins were killed because someone was mad at my grandfather for being gay?” Mrs. Carson said. “You don’t think my grandmother—”
“What I think is that there are others involved who had some big axes to grind against the Carson family and got their revenge by killing the twins,” I said. “Maybe your uncle had a jealous male lover at the bordello… or maybe you grandfather did?”
“Jealousy wouldn’t make someone kill two babies,” Mrs. Carson said. “There had to be another motive. And why kill Javina?”
“Because she was a witness to what happened and she wrote it all down in her journals,” I said, then something obvious popped into my mind and I slapped my forehead. “How dumb am I?”
“I take it that’s a rhetorical question,” Mrs. Carson said.
“What just came to you?” Shannon said.
“Javina was a threat not only because she witnessed everything, but because she wrote it all down. That’s why they buried Javina’s journal with her—so it wouldn’t be found. The poor little girl knew that people had seen her writing things in her journals. And it explains why she felt the need to hide all of them except the one she had with her when she was killed.”
“We knew that already and that her brother was the one who killed her,” Shannon said. “She wrote that in her last journal entries.”
“Yes, but doesn’t that also tell us that the people aiding her brother were close enough to be familiar with Javina’s habit of writing in her journal. Surely, it was the other people involved who forced Josiah Morelle to kill his sister. The other people involved in this crime were able to gain access to Carson Court, then forcefully remove Mr. Carson and Marcus from the premises. They all knew each other, damn it.”
“But why would so many people be involved,” Shannon said. “I can’t believe it was to teach two gay men a lesson and run them out of town.”
“No it wasn’t or they wouldn’t have been allowed back,” I said. “Shit!” Something was making me mad, and I rubbed the back of my neck. I felt like I was so close to a solution and it was evading me. “This isn’t a complicated mystery, I’m sure of that. But, something happened that nobody’s mentioned or spoken about for years. Probably a thing just as horrible as the murders of two babies, a retarded man, and an innocent child.”
“And which an entire neighborhood would keep secret,” Mrs. Carson said. “This started at the Black Hearts Dances, Layton. That means the bordello holds at least some of the secrets and answers.”
“Lucky for us we have an appointment there this week,” I said.
“And another one tonight with an artist, don’t forget,” Shannon said. “And a grateful drag queen.”
“A grateful drag queen who’s anxious to share some information regarding this case with me and who pushed for the meeting tonight at the artist’s home,” I said.
“I’d forgotten that last bit,” Shannon said.
“Luckily you have something to keep yourself occupied with until then,” Mrs. Carson said, then pointed to the manila envelope I held.
“It’s too bad it wasn’t an old cookie tin with a journal inside you found,” I said.
Mrs. Carson put her hand to her mouth for a moment and looked like something had jarred her. “A red tin with gold paint around the edges?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Javina’s journal was inside a red tin… like the ones my brother had found. The ones with the black hearts made of paper inside,” Mrs. Carson said.
“Where did your brother find those tins, Mrs. Carson?” I said. “And where are they now.”
“God help me, I can’t remember,” Mrs. Carson said, visibly upset.
Lucky looked at Mrs. Carson and barked. I got up from my rocker, walked to Mrs. Carson and rubbed her hand. Shannon walked to us and massaged Mrs. Carson’s shoulders. Mrs. Carson reached down and rubbed Lucky’s ears as he brushed against her ankles trying to comfort her.
“It’s alright, boy,” Mrs. Carson said to Lucky, then looked up at Shannon and me. “My brother warned me to never look for those tins or ask him what was inside them… not ever.”
“Then he knew the truths of the court,” I said.
“He knew, but never told a soul except for possibly Frederick,” Mrs. Carson said, relaxing a little. “I’m so tired from everything or I’d try harder to remember more.”
“Mrs. Carson, you rest,” I said. “Later on today, when you get a chance, try to write down some of the places your brother liked to hang out at the court and where he may have hidden the tins.”
“He put them back where he found them, I remember that much,” Mrs. Carson said. “After I wake up from my nap, I’ll write down what I remember, Layton.”
I kissed her cheek, then spoke as gently as I could. “You’re more important to me than those tins. Don’t get yourself sick over this.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m just tired from the party and everything with Javina,” Mrs. Carson said. “All those police people running around the court with their dirty shoes and being careless in the house kept me on guard.”
“I appreciate that,” I said, then grinned.
Mrs. Carson laughed. “I’m still acting like I’m the owner, huh?” She laughed again.
“That’s alright,” I said. “There’s nothing I like better than a good tenant who treats this place like their own and bakes good coo
kies.”
We all laughed, then Shannon spoke. “I wonder how tonight’s gathering will go. We’d better rest up in order to be ready for anything.”
Chapter 35
Nerves
MRS. CARSON had gone upstairs to take a nap and Lucky stayed with Shannon and me as we walked to the guesthouse. There was no reason to rush so we were taking our time. Shannon stopped, looked down at my bare feet, and smiled.
“I heard something Miss Lucy said in regard to men like you, Layton,” Shannon said. “It was along the lines of how you needed to feel your bare feet on the ground because of what she referred to as your sleek, hunter ways.”
“I do seem to recall her saying something of the sort,” I said, then smiled. “For me, it keeps me feeling sure-footed and grounded. Shoes can be slick on the surface and loose laces can cause you to trip. A good soldier is always aware of his body and what it touches. Will all this show up in one of your reports some day?”
“Oh, it’s too good for that. When I retire maybe I’ll include it in a steamy novel.”
We both chuckled, then I remembered something I had wanted to ask Shannon.
“Shannon, Mrs. Carson told Alex and me some of what you said to her about ghosts and how we may pick up on some of their emotions.”
We stopped and Shannon sat down on a bench to the side. Lucky walked up to her and she petted his ears as she spoke. “I’ve visited places where supernatural activity has occurred and they can have very different characteristics.”
“What do they have in common, if anything?” I said.
“This is probably obvious,” Shannon said. “But they are always places where great trauma of both an emotional and physical nature has occurred. My personal theory used to be that remnants of what happened in those situations get somehow recorded at the site. Almost like a movie that’s constantly playing and waiting for an audience. But, like watching a 3-D film without the proper glasses there is either nothing to see or what can be seen makes no sense.”
“That sounds like a good theory to me. Why did you say that used to be what you thought?”
“Characters in films can’t reach out and physically interact with the audience. The ghosts here have proven that they can,” Shannon said.
“They have proven that, and maybe more,” I said. “May I speak freely?”
“Of course.”
I told Shannon about what had been going on between Alex, Forrest, and me and about Alex’s feelings of insecurity coming back. When I was through talking, Shannon leaned back and crossed her legs. A thoughtful look appeared on her face.
“Do share,” I said. “It looks to me as if you have concerns.”
“Concerns, yes—fears no. You’re a strong man, Layton. And, Alex is a lot stronger than most people give him credit for… but he is somewhat vulnerable.”
“Because of what transpired with his family and the cult,” I said. “Could his family’s dealings with the supernatural make him more susceptible to things here?”
“I wouldn’t think so,” Shannon said, leaning her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand. “One can never really say for sure, but the blue light that cult was able to draw from peoples’ bodies was very different from the supernatural energy in this place. You dealt with the blue light and had its power surging through your body in Shelby, does anything here feel similar?”
“No,” I said. “But, something’s not right.”
“You mentioned feeling the heightened emotions, more specifically in the area of lust and then in Alex’s insecurities. At the risk of sounding vulgar, just how much of a difference was there from what you’d normally feel when looking at a man like Forrest.”
“You sound more clinical than vulgar,” I said, then smiled at Shannon. “I understand what you’re getting at though. Forrest would turn my eye normally and probably Alex’s too.”
“And,” Shannon said.
“And, if I wasn’t with Alex I would do Forrest every which way I could. I guess that was vulgar.”
Shannon smiled. “You didn’t ‘do’ him, but the three of you did feel compelled to engage in what you referred to as a ‘verbal threesome’. You also said that was a first for you.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I said.
“Layton, who initiated things?”
It took me a minute to think back, then I answered. “Alex, of all people. He said he’d done something like it when he was younger. That’s another open door for the ghosts I suppose.”
“Probably,” Shannon said. “But, there’s one important thing to remember—the ghosts only have the power we give them.”
“Tell that to the drag queen who died at the Glitter Ball… or to Nellie Noir.”
“Karina Marino called on the powers of darkness and freely let them inhabit her,” Shannon said. “Nellie Noir sought them out, thinking there was some sort of trick. Nellie was saved because she didn’t really understand what was going on, while Karina was fully aware of what she was doing.”
“Do we know what we’re doing?” I said.
“Not one-hundred-percent, Layton. That’s why we need to tread carefully. It’s a step in the right direction that you’re able to be honest with me, Forrest, and Alex. Keeping secrets would be a big mistake at this time.”
“I love Alex,” I said. “He’s my life, but there are some strong feelings inside me toward Forrest. They’re stronger than lust and more like love.”
“What type of love—romantic… brotherly… parental?”
“Hmm… that’s a good question,” I said.
“I’m surprised you didn’t think of that,” Shannon said.
“So am I. Why exactly didn’t I think of that—I should’ve?”
“Yes, I think you probably normally would’ve too. Something’s getting in the way of your thought process, Detective. It’s called fear.”
“I’m not afraid of ghosts. Remember, I’ve already dealt with a few.”
“Soldiers usually have battle plans or something to go by. This is all still new to you,” Shannon said. “On the other hand, detectives do deal with the unknown and the unexpected.”
“Soldiers have to deal with the unexpected too,” I said.
“So, then—what happens if you and Forrest have sex and Alex decides to leave you over it?”
She’d knocked the wind out of my sails with that move and it took me a minute to speak. “You just took a page out of my book with that one, didn’t you?”
“I try to learn from the best,” Shannon said. “But, you didn’t answer the question.”
“I won’t lose Alex.”
“That’s still not a real answer to what I asked.”
“OK,” I said. “Forrest and I won’t happen.”
“But what if it does happen. Lord knows the man is sexy and handsome, plus he’s so lonely. He’s practically begging for someone to reach out to him and show even an ounce of true caring.”
I didn’t know what to say. She was right about Forrest and it did make him very appealing.
“That’s a lot for a man to say no to,” Shannon said.
“Yes, it is,” I said. “But without Alex involved a ‘no’ is what it would be. In which case, it all comes back to that damned number three for me.”
“Three is just a number and has only the power you attribute to it. I believe you when you say nothing would happen without Alex—that’s good. If the threesome did occur, would it destroy your relationship with Alex?”
“I wouldn’t let it.”
“There you go then,” Shannon said. “Your real, down deep, hidden fear is unfounded then.”
“Not so hidden you couldn’t see it,” I said. “Even when I couldn’t.”
“It’s easier for someone outside the relationship to see. The love Alex and you have for one another is written all over your faces and in your body language.”
“What do you see emanating from Alex and me toward Forrest?”
“A bit of the lust everyone has in the
ir eyes when looking at Forrest, and something else… genuine caring and friendship.”
“He saved Alex that night in the tent, that made him a friend and brother in my eyes.”
“As well it should have. It’s normal for you to feel that way. You told me the night of the verbal threesome you felt driven. That drive is what I would question. As a soldier you were trained not to give into those type of feelings because they could be dangerous. Look at the verbal threesome as a bit of supernaturally induced fun between friends, but remember what you felt so you can recognize it should those feelings come again.”
“And they will come again, won’t they?” I said. “They’ll keep coming until the mysteries are solved. Would that imply that an old love affair is at the heart of things? Jimmy told us before we got to Carson Court that there were rumors of several love affairs that took place here.”
“The Mr. Carson and Marcus affair would be one,” Shannon said. “And Mrs. Carson certainly seems to be sure Marcus met with someone at the bordello. For a time there were even stories about Veronica having had an affair with a black gardener, but they were eventually proven false.”
“How?” I said.
“The gardener had a longtime male lover, who was considered to be honest and reliable. When questioned the lover claimed the gardener had never been with a woman. The lover’s comment has always been perceived as the truth.”
“I believe him too. No offense, Shannon, but I doubt Veronica was open-minded enough to have a black man as her lover.”
“I agree with you there,” Shannon said. “Veronica was certainly an activist for human rights, but she would’ve lost her place in society had she been with a black man.”
“Why did those stories about the gardener pop up?”
“You know, I didn’t really think about that, but I’m guessing I should have.”
“Are the ghosts here trying to recreate something that happened in the past using us as the players?”
“Using you, Alex, and Forrest at least.”
“A threesome—Mr. Carson, Marcus, and Veronica. So, what happens if we give in and put on their show? Will things be revealed and finished finally?”