AUTHERS NOTE!
I updated my last chapter. I corrected the spelling and what not, and changed a name or two around. And this chapter is kinda… well pointless, but whatever! You get to meet Pam's kids. Melvin, and you hear about Timmy Tantrum and Tommy Teether, and about Rachel and her mom.
So… Enjoy!
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Rachel stayed late to finish her report on the Davidson incident. When she came out of the building at 5:06, the parking lot behind the law enforcement center was deserted except for a pair of trustees washing the sheriffs new suburban. The day-shift deputies had split homes or seconds jobs or stools in their favorite bars. The press had taken Smith Pritchett's brief official statement on Hunter Davidson's situation and gone off to meet their deadlines.
A sense of false peace held the moment. Any stranger walking through Jump City would have remarked on the lovely afternoon. Spring had arrived unusually early, filling the air with the perfume of sweet olive and wisteria. Window boxes on the second floor galleries of the historic business district were bursting with color and overflowing greenery, ivy trailing down the wrought iron and wood railings. Store windows had been decorated for the upcoming Mardi Gras carnival. Down on the corner, old Tante Lucesse sat on a folding chair weaving a pine-needle basket and singing hymns for passerby.
But underlying the veneer of peace was something sinister. A raw nerve of disquiet. As the sun went down on Jump City, a killer sat somewhere in the gathering gloom. That knowledge tainted the shabby beauty here like a stain seeping across a tablecloth. Murder. Whether you believed Renard was the killer or not, a murderer was loose among them, free to do as he pleased.
It wasn't the first time, which made it impossible to discount as an aberration. Death had stalked this path before. The memories had barely gone stale. The death of Pam Bichon had dragged them to the surface, has awakened fear and stirred up doubt.
Six women in the five different parishes had died over an eighteen-month period between 1992 and 1993. Raped, strangled and sexually mutilated. Two of the victims had come from Jump City- Chandelle Monotonies and Henrietta Fouler- whom Rachel had known her entire life. The crimes had shocked the people of Jump City's french triangle into a state of near panic, and the conclusion of the case had shocked them all even more.
The stories had put Jump City on the map and in the spotlight for a short time, but the glare faded and the horror was put aside. The case was closed. The evil had burned out. Life had returned to normal. Until Pam Bichon.
Her death was too close for comfort, to similar. All those old fears bubbled to the surface, divided and multiplied. Folks were eager to accept Renard as Bichon's killer. But even with a target to point fingers at, the underlying fear remained: a superstition, a half-conscious belief that the evil was indeed a phantom, that this place had been cursed.
Rachel felt it herself- an edginess, a low-frequency hum that skimmed along her nerves at night, an instinct that heightened the awareness of every sound, a sense of vulnerability. Every women in the parish felt it, perhaps more so this time then the last. Pam Bichon had led a normal life, had a good job, came from a nice family… and a killer had chosen her. If it could happen to Pam Bichon…
Rachel felt the uneasiness within her now, felt it press in around her as if the air had suddenly become denser. The sense of being watched inched across the back of her neck. But when she turned around, it was no evil gargoyle staring at her. A small white face with big sad eyes peered at her over the steering wheel of her jeep. Melvin Bichon.
'' Hey, Melvin,'' she said, letting herself in on the passenger's side. ''Where y'at?''
The little girl laid her cheek against the steering wheel and shrugged. She was a beautiful child with brown hair that hung like a thick curtain to her waist when it was out of the pigtails. Brown eyes too soulful for her years. In a denim jumper and floppy denim hat, the brim pinned up in front with a big silk sunflower, she could have been modeling for the GAP kids fashion shoot.
'' You here on your own?''
'' No. I came with Grandma to see Grandpa. They wouldn't let me go in.''
'' Sorry Melvin. They've got rules about letting kids in jail.''
'' Ya, everyone's got rulers for kids. I wish I could make a rule for once.'' She reached out and tapped a finger against the plastic raven the hung from the rearview mirror. '' Rule number one: no treating me like a baby, cause im not. Rule number two: no lying to me for my own good.''
'' You heard about what happened at the courthouse?'' Rachel asked gently.
'' It was on the radio while I was in art class. Grandpa tried top shoot the man that killed my mom, and he was arrested. At first, Grandma tried to tell me that her tripped and fell down the courthouse steps. She lied to me.''
'' I'm sure she didn't mean it to be a lie Melvin. Imagine how scared she must have been. She didn't want to scare you too.''
Melvin gave her an expression that spoke eloquently of her feelings on the subject. From the moment her family had been notified of her mother's death, Melvin and her brother, Timmy and Tommy, had been fed half-truths, gently pushed aside while the adults whispered concerns and secrets. Her father and her grandparents and aunts and uncles had done their best to wrap them in an insulation of misinformation, never imagining that what they were doing only hurt her more. But Rachel knew.
'' Mama, Mama! We're home! Look what Uncle Sos got me at Disney World! It's Minnie Mouse!''
The kitchen door banged shut and she stopped in her tracks. The person sitting at the kitchen table wasn't her mother. Father Goetz rose from the chair, his face grave, and Enola Meyette, a fat women who always smelled of sausage, came away from the sink drying her hands on a red checkered towel.
'' Allons, cherie,'' Mrs. Meyette said, holding out one dimpled hand, ''We go down the store. Get you candy, oui?''
Rachel had known right then something was wrong. The memory still brought back the same sick twisting in her stomach she had felt that day. She could see herself clearly at nine, eyes wide with fear, a chokehold on her new stuffed Minnie Mouse, as she was pulled away from the truth Father Goetz had come to deliver: the while Rachel was on her first ever vacation trip with Tante Fanchon and Uncle Sos, Arella Roth had taken her own life.
Rachel had taken it upon herself to answer Melvin's questions when the sheriff's office had sent its representatives to break the news to Hunter Davidson and his wife. And Melvin, Timmy and Tommy, had some how made an instant and yet-to-be-severed connection.
'' You could have come to the sheriff's office and asked for me,'' Rachel said.
Melvin tapped the raven again and watched in swing. '' I didn't want to be with people. Not if I couldn't see Grandpa Hunt and ask him what really happened.''
'' I was there.''
'' Did he really try to kill the guy?''
Rachel chose her words carefully. '' He might have if Detective Logan hadn't seen the gun in time.''
'' I wish he had shot him dead.'' Melvin declared.
'' People can't take the law into their own hands, Melvin.''
'' Why? Because it's against the rules? That guy killed my mom. What about the rules he broke? He should have to pay for what he did.''
'' That's what the courts are for.''
'' But the judge let him go!'' Melvin cried, frustration and pain tangled in a knot in her throat. The same frustration and pain Rachel had heard in Hunter Davidson's broken sobs.
'' Just for now,'' Rachel said, hoping the promise wasn't really as empty as it felt to her. '' Just until we can get some better evidence against him.''
Tears welled up in Melvin's eyes and spilled over. '' Then why can't you find it? You're a cop and you're my friend. You're supposed to understand! You said you'd help! You're supposed to make sure he gets punished! Instead you put my grandpa in jail! I hate this!'' She hit her hand against the steering wheel, blasting the horn. '' I hate everything!''
Melvin scrambled from the drivers seat and dashed toward the law enforcement center. Rachel hopped out of the jeep and started after her. But she pulled herself short when she saw Bella Davidson and Timothy Watson, the Davidson's attorney, coming out the side door.
The women's lips thinned as her gaze hit Rachel. She pulled her granddaughter into a brief hug before pulling out and starting across the parking lot.
'' You have an awful nerve Deputy Roth,'' She declared. '' Throwing my husband in jail instead of my daughter's murderer, then playing up to my granddaughter as if you have a right to her devotion.''
'' I'm sorry you feel that way,'' Rachel said. '' But we couldn't let your husband shoot Marcus Renard.''
'' He wouldn't have been driven to such desperation if not for the incompetence of you people in the sheriffs department. You let a guilty man run free all over town due to carelessness and oversight. By God, I've got half a mind to shoot him myself!''
'' Bella!'' the lawyer whined as he caught up to his client. '' I told you, you shouldn't say that infront of people.''
'' Of for God's sake, Timothy. My daughter has been murdered. People would think it strange I didn't say these things.''
'' We're doing the best we can Mrs. Davidson.'' Rachel said.
'' And what have you come up with? Nothing! You're a disgrace to your uniform- when you're wearing it.''
She gave Rachel's faded t-shirt a sharply dubious look that had likely sent many Junior Leaguer's home in tears.
'' I'm not working your daughters case ma'am. It's up to Detective Logan and Greyson.''
Bella Davidson's expression only hardened. '' Don't make excuses, Deputy. We all have obligations in this life to go beyond boundaries. You found my daughter's body. You saw what-'' She cut herself off, looking down at Melvin. When she turned back to Rachel, her dark eyes glistened with tears. '' You know. How can you turn your back on that? How can you turn your back on that and still show your face to my granddaughter?''
'' It's not Rachel's fault Grandma,'' Melvin said, though the gaze she lifted to Rachel was tainted with disappointment.
'' Don't say that Melvin,'' Bella admonished softly as she slipped an arm around her granddaughter's shoulders and pulled her close. '' That's what's wrong with the world today. Nobody will take responsibility for anything.''
'' I want justice too, Mrs. Davidson,'' Rachel said. '' But it has to be within the system.''
'' Deputy, the only thin we've gotten within the system so far is injustice.''
As they walked away, Melvin looked back over her shoulder, her brown eyes huge and sad. For an instant Rachel felt as if she were watching herself walking away into the painful haze of her past, the memory pulling out from the core like a string.
'' What happened Tante Fanchon? Where's Mama?''
'' Your Mama, she's in heaven, ma 'tite fille.''
'' But why?''
'' It was an accident chere. God, he looked away.''
'' I don't understand.''
'' Non, chere 'tite bete. Someday. When you get older…''
But she had hurt right then, and promises of later had done nothing to soothe the pain.