Authors: Sharon Sala
He spun toward the commode and threw up until there was nothing left but the bile, bitter as the image forever seared into his brain. The nausea slowly passed, leaving him emotionally gutted. He put on gym shorts to sleep in and crawled into bed.
The sheets were cool against his skin as he bunched the soft, floppy pillow beneath his neck. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, waiting—praying for the silence to take him under. It never came. He kept hearing Julie’s screams and being rocked by the shock of what she had endured. Rage swept through him, coupled with an agony so sharp he thought he would die. Tears came fast, hot and blinding.
****
Delle was almost asleep when she heard the first choking sob. She was up and in the hall before she remembered to be cautious of her feet, but pain was nothing when one of her children was in need. She went into his room without knocking and was at his side without moments.
“Brendan… cher…”
Brendan covered his face, but there was no masking the thick, choking sobs.
She laid her hand on his chest. The heavy thud against her palm ripped through her mother’s heart.
“There is no need to hide your tears, not from me.”
“Oh God, Mama. My Julie...”
She grabbed his hand in panic, feeling the calluses and the strength—remembering when he was small how he would crawl out from beneath the covers and into her lap as she sang away the bad dream. But he was past songs and she didn’t know how to make this go away.
“Did they find her?”
“Yes.”
“Alive?”
He took a deep breath and wiped his face. “Yes.”
“Talk to me, Brendan. Shared pain is a lighter load.”
Brendan sat up. He could just see the outline of her face, but the tenderness in her voice was familiar and so dear.
He shoved a shaky hand through his still-damp hair. “Some man I am, crying in the dark so that his mama has to come tend him.”
“What happened?”
“He tied her naked to a bed and whipped her with a cat-o’-nine-tails. I saw them pulling her out of the ambulance and didn’t know her. Her eyes are swollen shut and her face and body are covered with lash marks. They found her before she was raped, but it almost doesn’t matter. The mental act happened many times before they rescued her.”
“Ah God,” Delle whispered, remembering the tiny woman with the small, perfect body and wept quiet tears.
“Why do bad things happen to good people?” Brendan asked.
Delle shook her head. “You already know that answer. Bad things happen because of bad people.”
The words cut to the core of who he was because he knew what she meant. He came from a bad man, as had all of her sons, and yet none had the manic tendencies that guided Anson’s life.
Delle’s grip was tight on his wrist, as if she could anchor his grief by will alone.
“I didn’t have to know Juliette long to see she’s a strong woman. She’s suffering, but she’ll be all the stronger for it once she’s healed. You’ll see. A woman can endure anything when she’s loved.”
“Like my sweet mama who is so very loved by her children,” he said.
“And that’s why I’m able to endure,” she said quietly, then glanced at the clock. “It’s almost morning. You sleep until noon. I’ll keep Linny quiet until then, and when you wake, we will go on this outing she’s talked about, and we’ll pretend for just one day that we are a normal, happy family. Do you hear me?”
He smiled. “Yes, I hear you.”
“So sleep now, my good son. I know there’s more to be told, but not tonight. Just remember that the worst has passed, and everything after will be a day closer to perfect healing.”
She leaned down and hugged him close.
“I’m ashamed to say this because a mother shouldn’t have favorites, but I think tonight you need to know that you’re my favorite son.”
He managed a half-hearted smile. “I thank you, Mama, but I think we’ll keep that between us.”
“Absolutely. Now go to sleep and remember what I said. No getting up before noon.”
“Yes, ma’am. And you get off your feet.”
Delle smiled. “Yes, sir.”
She slipped across the hall, and after a brief check on her daughter, she crawled back into bed. But instead of trying to sleep, she began praying. She was still praying when the sun came over the horizon.
****
Anson woke at daybreak and turned on the television as he began dressing for the day. He was hoping to catch the latest on the fire from the local newscast.
Adelaine’s had finally evacuated their restaurant and he’d been on his way home before midnight, well aware that March’s guard dogs had followed a half mile behind.
He was dressed all but for his boots when he sat down on the side of the bed and began flipping channels before finally finding one broadcasting the event.
A wicked smile spread across his face when he heard the scope of the damage. Not only had Frenchie’s burned to the ground, but so had The Black Garter. That was a two-for-the price-of-one deal he hadn’t expected and wondered how the cocky bastard felt about the world this morning.
What he didn’t know until now was that March’s daughter had been kidnapped during the chaos, only to be rescued hours later. He scratched his groin and began putting on his boots, wondering how his high-and-mighty son was faring now. By the time he added his own brand of payback, there wouldn’t be enough left of Brendan Poe to bury.
Anson eyed the remodeling still in progress as he headed downstairs. The house smelled of fresh paint and new flooring. Soon, there would be new curtains and draperies at the windows, and when that happened, he would be ready to reclaim his wife.
He was eating a piece of beef jerky and making coffee when his cell phone rang. It was Sam.
“You’re late,” he said shortly.
“Chance and I aren’t coming out today,” Sam said.
Anson frowned. “Like hell.”
Sam wouldn’t budge. “It rained four inches. We can’t get into the fields, there’s nothing to ship, and nothing to deliver. We are going to spend the day with Mama and Linny.”
Anson’s first instinct was to argue, and then he realized this played in perfectly with his plan.
“Yeah, okay. So tell them how pretty I’m fixing up the place for when they come home.”
“I will,” Sam said and disconnected.
Anson smiled. The day was starting off even better than he had hoped. He sat down to breakfast with a better attitude than he’d had in days, and it was still holding true when the Parish police rolled up in his front yard.
****
Anson was in the shed unpacking a shipment of new pots they used for the bamboo when he heard an engine. At first, he thought Sam and Chance must’ve changed their minds and come anyway. Then he stepped out, saw a police car driving up to the house, and went to meet them. Seeing Detective Royal from the New Orleans P.D. behind the wheel somewhat eased his concerns. Royal was already in his pocket. The other cop with him was a different story.
“Hey! Are ya’ll lost?” he asked.
“Morning, Poe,” Royal said. “You know Detective Early.”
Anson noticed a coffee stain on the front of Early’s blue short-sleeved button-down as he nodded.
“What can I do for you?” Anson asked.
Royal loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons at the collar. “It sure is hot out here today.”
“It’s July. It’s hot here every day,” Anson said.
“I guess you’d be right about that,” Royal said.
They stared at each other for a few seconds and then Royal shifted focus.
“Reckon you heard about the fire in the Quarter last night?”
“I was at Adelaine’s eating dinner when it started, why?” Anson asked.
Royal frowned. He didn’t want to have to arrest this man, considering the amount of money Poe paid him every month.
“So, you
were
in the city?”
Anson frowned. “Did I not just say that? What’s the deal?”
“The report this morning is that it appears the fire at Frenchie’s was arson.”
Anson grinned. “Wow, wonder which one of the city bigwigs’ wives finally figured out what was going on upstairs?”
A muscle twitched at the corner of Early’s mouth, a small clue to the fact that he agreed with the comment.
Royal pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat beading on his forehead. “Miss Branscum was questioned this morning as to that very thing.”
Anson frowned. “Who’s Miss Branscum?”
“Lisette,” Early said.
Anson chuckled. “Well hell, all these years I been poking her and her girls and I never knew her last name.”
Again, the fact that he readily admitted being a customer took them off guard.
“So you
were
a client?”
Anson’s chuckle spread to a laugh. “So she’s calling us clients? Damn, that’s a good one.”
Sweat was running down the middle of Early’s back and into his pants. He wanted done with this follow-up and back in the air-conditioned car.
“Look. We’re just going to come right out and say why we’re here,” Royal said. “Lisette named you as a possible suspect in the arson.”
Anson offered a look of humorous disbelief.
“Man! She’s been servicing big shots all around the state for nearly twenty years and running her girls along with it. She’s bound to have pissed off a few people a lot more important than me in the process. Look, we parted company less than friends a few months back, but I can’t imagine why on earth she’d think I’d do something like that? And why now, after our beef was so long ago?”
Early decided it was time he asked a couple of questions. “Miss Branscum said you were there only a week or so ago, and she turned you away at the door.”
Anson sighed and then shook his head in sudden understanding. “Ah, so that’s why she named me. To be honest I was testing the waters to see if all was forgiven yet, but she wouldn’t let me in. Hell, I been turned down by women before and I haven’t set one on fire yet. I can’t imagine why she’d think I’d be all that hot under the collar since there are whores to be had all over the city. Besides, I already told you I was in Adelaine’s eating dinner.”
“When did you first get into the city?” Early asked.
Anson paused, as if considering the timeline. “I’d guess it was somewhere around 9:30 or something close to that. I checked in at the hostess stand, found out I’d have about a twenty minute wait, and was at the bar until they called my name. I’m sure the hostess can attest to when I went in, and plenty of others were at the bar who can verify that as well.”
“You would still have had time to—”
Anson slapped his leg, as if he’d just remembered something. “Oh! Hey! I have some people you can talk to who probably know the exact time of my every move for the past several days.”
“Like who?” Early asked.
“Go talk to Grayson March. We pissed each other off a while back, and he’s had two of his boys tailing my every move since. They can verify everything I told you and then some.”
Detective Royal’s lips parted slightly, shocked Poe would even bandy a name like that around.
“Grayson March?”
Anson grinned. “Yeah. Surely you know the little son of a bitch? Short. Cocky. Rich as sin.”
Early covered up a grin by coughing.
Royal dropped his notebook back into his pocket.
“We’ll have to verify your alibi,” he said.
“Yeah, I know how it goes. I watch TV,” Anson said, and then he stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited for them to make the next move.
“So, thank you for your cooperation,” Royal added.
“Happy to assist in any way that I can,” he said and watched until their car disappeared from sight. “And that takes care of that,” he added and went back into the shed.
****
It was just after 11:00 in the morning when someone knocked at Brendan’s door. Linny jumped at the sound and glanced toward her mother. She had wanted her brother up hours ago, and this seemed like a good an excuse as any.
“Want me to go wake Bren?”
Delle shook her head. She had yet to mention anything about what had happened last night, but knew it wouldn’t stay secret long.
“Go stand by the door and ask who it is.”
Linny frowned. “What if it’s Daddy?”
A little shiver of fear rolled across Delle’s shoulders, but before she could answer, they heard someone call out with a hint of laughter in the voice.
“Hey, in there, I can hear you talking. Someone let us in.”
Delle smiled. “It’s Sam! Go unlock the door.”
Linny flew across the room, giggling with every step. She hadn’t seen her other brothers since her mama got burned, and the moment she let them in, Sam swooped down and picked her up, spun her over his head like a helicopter blade while she screeched her delight.
Chance came in behind him, shut the door, and headed for his mother.
“Hey, Mama,” Chance said as he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “How ya’ll doin?”
Delle couldn’t quit smiling. They both looked so much like her daddy it made her homesick for the days when she’d been a child. They were tall like Anson, but both had reddish brown hair and square jaws, while Brendan had his father’s black hair, finer features, and blue eyes.
“We’re good, we’re good. I’m so glad you came. I’ve been missing you both.”
“Here,” Sam said, handing Linny off to Chance.
Linny squealed all over again as Chance tucked her under his arm like a football and started galloping toward the kitchen.
Delle laughed as Sam sat down beside her.
“Such nonsense,” she said.
He smiled. “How are your feet feeling, Mama? Are they healing up okay?”
“The bottoms are way better. I can walk around on them now if I don’t stay up too long. The tops are not healing as fast.”
Sam laid a hand on her head, noticing how much gray was in her hair now. He could remember a time when that would’ve bothered her.
“We would’ve been here sooner, but Daddy’s been keeping us pretty busy. If it hadn’t rained so hard last night, he would’ve sent us back to work today.”
“Then I’m thankful for the rain,” she said.
“Where’s Brendan?” Chance asked as he dropped Linny down into Brendan’s recliner on her head.