The Whispering Room (26 page)

“It's okay, sweetie. Nana's here. It's okay.”

His cries grew louder, tearing at Lynette's heart. If anything happened to that baby…

“What do you want?” she asked frantically. “I have some money in my purse. Take it. Just don't hurt that baby. Please.”

The woman behind her said, “We're not here to steal from you. Although it might be justified. After all, you took something once that didn't belong to you. Didn't you, Lynette?”

Stall.
That was the only thing Lynette could do. Mitchell should be here soon. Any minute now…

“Please don't hurt him,” she whispered.

The snake writhed over the man's head. The mouth opened and the scent of musk filled the room.

Dear God, please help me. Help me protect J.D.

“I'm not here to hurt him,” the woman said. “I've come to save him.”

And with that, the man flung the snake at Lynette.
It struck her in the chest, then fell to the floor with a loud thump. What happened next was only a blur. The snake struck so quickly Lynette had no time to brace or protect herself.

It caught her just above the knee and when she tried to fight it off, the fangs sunk into her hand. For the longest moment, the serpent hung suspended, and then with a scream, Lynette flung it away. The snake thudded against the wall and slithered into a corner to hide.

 

Evangeline saw the flashing lights of the squad cars the moment she turned on her mother's street.

Her heart started to pound in terror.

Oh, God.

Something was wrong. She could believe that Mitchell would call out the cavalry, but this many cops could only mean one thing.

Evangeline parked in the street and tore through the yard, nearly colliding with one of the officers. He caught her by the shoulders. “Whoa, wait a minute, miss. You can't go in there. This is a crime scene.”

Crime scene?

“I'm Detective Evangeline Theroux,” she screamed. “This is my mother's house. My baby's inside.”

The officer exchanged a glance with his partner. “Your baby's inside?”

She didn't answer. She tore herself loose from his grasp and lunged for the door.

Just beyond the foyer, her mother lay convulsing on the floor. A uniformed officer knelt beside her, and he looked up when Evangeline burst into the room. “Where are the EMTs?” he asked angrily.

Evangeline was on her knees beside him in a flash. “How bad?”

“She's been snakebit,” he said. “I think she's going into anaphylactic shock.”

Evangeline bent over her mother. “Mom, can you hear me?”

No response.

“Mom, what happened? Where's J.D.?” she asked desperately.

Lynette's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

Evangeline got up and raced down the hallway to the small bedroom where her mother kept a crib. It was empty.

Panic hammered her chest as she stumbled from one room to the next, checking every corner, every closet, even though she already knew the awful truth.

Her son was gone.

E
vangeline was already on the phone by the time she reached her car. She called Nash first, then Mitchell, then Vaughn. By the time she hit Highway 90, she was on the phone with Sheriff Thibodaux in Torrence.

“I sent a deputy out there earlier to have a look around,” he said. “Everything was all clear. I'm just about to leave on a little trip, but I'll swing by there before I take off. I see anything suspicious, I'll give you call.”

Evangeline pressed the accelerator to the floor, but she was still a good forty-five minutes away. And the clock was ticking.

She had no idea what she would find at the Lemay house once she got there. Rebecca? Ruth?

Her sisters.

Her own flesh and blood.

And one of them wanted to kill her son.

It hit Evangeline then just how far she was willing to go to protect J.D. from their madness. One sister was innocent, the other guilty, but in order to save her son, she would kill them both if she had to.

Cell phone clutched in her hand, she sailed along sugarcane fields and through tunnels of willow trees with the sun at her back. Every now and then when the road curved, she could see sunlight dancing on the bayou and the graceful prance of herons through the swamp grass. It was a paradise of water lilies, buttercups and wild roses. Of gilded wings and rippling water. And into this paradise, evil came with blond hair and blue eyes.

What would she do if J.D. wasn't at the house?

He could be anywhere. The swamp offered a million places to hide. She wouldn't have a clue where to start looking.

But Nash would.
This is what the FBI did best,
he'd told her.

She wanted desperately to believe that, but with each passing moment…

Don't. Don't!

Her son would be fine. She would find him in time, and by nightfall he would be safely back in his own bed. Evangeline would stand guard over him night and day if she had to. She would never again let him out of her sight. He was so tiny and innocent….

She blinked away hot tears as her knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. She would find him. She would.

The phone rang and she pressed it to her ear. “Yes.”

“This is Nash. Listen, I've got some news for you.”

Her heart bolted to her throat. “J.D.?”

“No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get your hopes up. This is about Rebecca Lemay's accomplice. We got a match on the prints you lifted from your car. They belong to a former psychiatric patient named Ellis Cooper. This guy sounds like a real nutcase. You be careful down there.”

“Don't worry about me. I've already notified the sheriff in Torrence. He'll provide backup if I need it.”

“Evangeline?”

“Yeah?”

“Hang in there. We're going to find him.”

Her eyes burned with tears, but she had no time for emotion. No time for a breakdown. She had to find J.D. Nothing else mattered.

“I can't lose him,” she whispered.

“I'll do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen.”

“I know, but he's so little. So helpless…” She trailed off. “He's all I've got.”

And at that moment, the revelation of how much
she loved her son humbled and staggered her. And shamed her because she hadn't realized it before.

She loved that little boy more than her own life. She would do anything to protect him.
Anything.
“We'll find him,” Nash said again, and Evangeline tried to take comfort in the steadiness of his tone.

By the time she drove into Torrence, terror was a cold vise around her heart.

She parked in front of the police station and bolted inside.

The officer behind the front desk was on the phone, but he hung up the minute he saw Evangeline. “Detective Theroux?”

“Yes.”

“We've been expecting you. The sheriff called a little while ago on his way out of town. He said to tell you the place is all clear. He didn't see hide nor hair of anyone out there.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Half an hour maybe. He also said to tell you he thinks you're on a wild-goose chase.”

The last was shouted at Evangeline's back as she raced back through the door.

Twenty minutes later, she turned off the main highway onto the gravel road. The shade of the forest seemed deep and oppressive, the whisper of wind through the leaves the worst kind of omen. But when she finally pulled into the clearing, the sight
of the sheriff's car filled her with hope. Maybe he'd come back for a second look.

Evangeline parked beside the squad car and got out. Checking her weapon, she clutched the grip in both hands as she slowly climbed the stairs. Opening the screen door with her foot, she quickly stepped inside and swept the air with her gun.

The house was quiet.

Too quiet.

She should be able to hear the creak and moan of the wooden floors as the sheriff moved through the house, but she heard no sound at all. Nothing but the drone of mosquitoes that swarmed through the broken windows and sagging screen door.

Evangeline swatted one from her eyelashes as she eased through the house. “Sheriff Thibodaux? You in here? It's Detective Theroux.”

She hated to give away her position, but she also didn't want a startled lawman shooting her. Retracing her steps into the front hall, she started up the stairs.

“Sheriff? I'm coming up.”

At the top of the stairs, she heard something in the front bedroom, and as she pushed open the door, a scream rose to her throat.

The sheriff lay on his back on the floor, his eyes open and staring. Yellow fluid oozed from a wound on his neck and another on his arm where the skin had split from the rapid swelling.

As Evangeline stepped into the room, she saw something slither across the floor and disappear into the shadows. She froze, her heart pounding fiercely, and then she took another careful step inside.

Kneeling beside Thibodaux, she felt his wrist. She couldn't find a pulse, and she feared he'd gone into cardiac arrest.

A floorboard creaked out in the hallway, and she jumped to her feet. She edged back to the door, glanced out, and then realized too late that the danger was already in the room behind her.

She saw a movement out of the corner of eye. Before she could whirl, something slammed into the side of her head, and she dropped to her knees, then pitched face-first to the floor.

W
hen Evangeline came to, she was lying in water.

The smell of dead fish and stagnant water clogged her nostrils, and as she struggled to open her eyes, she thought she must still be in the swamp.

Her hand lifted to the throb at the side of her head and gingerly she probed the goose egg she found there. As everything slowly came back to her, fresh panic bloomed in her chest.

She wasn't in the swamp. She was in a room, like a cellar. Several inches of smelly water covered the floor where she lay, and to her left, she could see daylight. As she turned her head to the window, she saw something swim by her face.

Choking back a scream, she tried to remain motionless, but she couldn't stop trembling and her heart was pounding so violently, she thought it must surely be sending out vibrations in the water.

As she watched, the snake glided around and came back toward her. The head was up out of the water, and in the light from the window, she could see the gleam of its eyes. Could even make out the vertical pupils.

And then she saw another. And another.

They were everywhere.

Evangeline lay paralyzed as a black body slithered over her legs. Another touched her bare arm. She closed her eyes and tried not to scream.

When she dared look again, she counted at least a half-dozen diamond-shaped heads swimming in the water.

Ever so carefully, she turned her head away from the window. She could see a set of steps leading up to a door. Between her and the stairs, Thibodaux lay facedown in the water.

His body was still now, and Evangeline knew that he was dead. She'd read somewhere that death by snakebite was more often the result of heart failure than from the venom.

Evangeline could believe it. Her heart even now pounded so hard she was afraid her chest might explode.

Her head throbbed, too, and she thought of her mother, lying helpless on her own living room floor. She thought of J.D., missing from his crib, and an image of his little face materialized behind her closed eyelids. His sweet, innocent smile. The eyes
that looked so much like Johnny's. How could she ever have doubted her love for that baby? Her need to find him and protect him was like a raging wildfire inside her chest.

She had to find a way out. She couldn't allow herself to remain frozen by terror. Her son needed her. She was all he had left.

And he was all she had left.

Hold on, J.D. I'm coming, baby.

Evangeline lay very still and tried to work out a plan. Would it be better to spring quickly to her feet or take the slow approach?

She had no idea. She wasn't even sure she could move quickly, given her injury and the numbness in her arms and legs. She flexed her muscles to try and warm them up.

Bracing herself, she counted to three, then leaped to her feet, jumped over the sheriff's body and let panic hurl her up the steps.

Too terrified to think about what might wait for her beyond the door, she seized the knob and twisted, then threw her shoulder against it. When that didn't work, she tried to kick it open, but the lock held and she turned to frantically scan her surroundings as she stood shivering at the top of the steps.

She was trapped.

The only other way out was the window, and
even if she could wade through the water without getting bit, the opening was too high for her to reach.

Her gaze lit on the body at the bottom of the steps. She needed to search through Thibodaux's pockets, see if she could find something with which she could jimmy the door.

But that meant going back into the water.

That meant wading through all those sinewy bodies.

Slowly, she went down the stairs, put one foot into the foul-smelling water and then the other, telling herself the snakes were as afraid of her as she was them. Not moccasins, though. They were very territorial. How many times had she heard stories of how they would turn and come at you if they felt threatened?

She first checked for his weapon, but he wasn't wearing a holster. Made sense, since he wasn't in uniform. Evangeline searched through the pocket nearest her, then reached across his body and slipped her hand into the water. Something cold touched her wrist and she waited a beat, then slid her hand in farther.

Nothing.

Fighting off another wave of terror and frustration, Evangeline started to turn back to the stairs. Then a memory came floating up through that black fog of fear. What was it Thibodaux had told her that
first day in his office when she'd noticed the ankle holster on his desk?
“Even off duty, I don't ever go out into the swamp unarmed.”

Carefully, easing herself through the water, she reached under his pant leg, terrified that a snake might come slithering out. Instead, she felt the soft nylon of his holster, and a moment later, she had the small .38 special in her hand.

Eyeing the water around her, she turned and sprinted toward the steps. At the top, she stood back from the door and fired three shots into the lock, splintering the wood enough so that she could kick open the door. It took her several tries, but finally she was through.

Gripping the gun, she walked through the cabin and out the front door. The sheriff's SUV and her car had been brought here from the Lemay house.

Evangeline ran down the steps and checked inside each vehicle, praying the keys would be inside.

They weren't.

 

Helplessly, she surveyed her surroundings. There was nothing but woods and swamp all around her. She had no idea where she was, and for a moment, succumbed to the panic and terror clawing at her lungs. Where was she? Where was J.D.?

She couldn't bear to think about what might have already happened. What she had let happen.

But it was important not to dwell on that. She had to blot out the images racing through her head. Her baby at the mercy of a madwoman…

Please, please let me find him. Please let him be okay.

A path at the edge of the yard led back into the woods. Into a trap for all Evangeline knew, but what other choice did she have?

As she hurried through the trees, mosquitoes swarmed her face and nettles tore at her skin. By the time the path ended, the flesh on her arms was raw and bleeding and she was hopelessly lost.

She bent down, hands on knees, gulping air as her breath came in sobs.

Then, through the maddening drone of the mosquitoes came the distant tinkle of a wind chime.

A wind chime!

She'd heard it the day before through the broken upstairs window of the Lemay house.

She was close.

No more than a hundred yards away, if that.

All she had to do was follow the sound.

Ten minutes later, she was back in the clearing. Another two minutes had her crossing the yard toward the house.

A woman opened the screen door and came out on the porch to meet her. It was the same woman she'd seen in J.D.'s nursery. Rebecca Lemay.

She was dressed much the way she had been that
night—long skirt, tennis shoes and shapeless sweater, which she pulled tightly around her even though the day was scorching hot.

Evangeline lifted the gun. “Where is he? Where's my baby?”

“You don't need to worry. He's safe now.”

Evangeline's heart dropped to her stomach as terror clawed at her heart. She started to run. “Where is he?” she screamed. Her finger pressed against the trigger. The rage that mushroomed inside her was hard to control. “Tell me where he is or I swear to God, I'll kill you.”

“Evangeline, no!”

Lena Saunders—Ruth—was suddenly running across the yard toward her. Evangeline had no idea where she'd been hiding. She came forward now with her arms outstretched. “Please don't hurt her.”

“I don't want to hurt anyone.” Evangeline kept the gun leveled on Rebecca. “I just want my baby back. Tell me where he is.”

“I told you,” Rebecca said. “He's safe.”

“Where is he, damn you!”

“Evangeline…” Lena came slowly toward her. “Please…just put the gun down before someone gets hurt.”

“She took him,” Rebecca said, pointing down the steps toward her sister.

Evangeline swung the gun toward Lena. “Stop right there. I'll kill you both if I have to.”

Lena's blue eyes widened in alarm. “Evangeline, listen to me. Rebecca's sick. She needs help.” She turned to her sister. “Please, just tell us where you put the baby.”

Rebecca took a step back. “No.”

“We just want to help you,” Lena said.

“You'll send me away again.”

“I never sent you away. It wasn't my fault what happened. It wasn't your fault, either. You didn't know any better. You just wanted to help Mama, didn't you?”

“You were her helper,” Rebecca said. “You were her favorite.”

“I was the oldest. She depended on me. You can depend on me, too. I'll get you help. Whatever you need. All you have to do is tell me what you did with the baby.”

At that moment, Evangeline heard J.D.'s cry. It was coming from somewhere inside the house.

She and Lena moved at the same time. Before she reached the steps, something hit her hard between her shoulder blades. The force of the blow catapulted her forward and she fell with a hard thud to the ground. The gun flew from her hand as she lay dazed and shocked in the dirt. With an effort, she lifted her head and glanced behind her, saw the man with the scarred face standing over her. He had a club in one hand and a burlap sack in the other.

“I've got her,” he said and laughed.

Evangeline lunged for the gun, grabbed it, but he was just as quick. Straddling her, he rolled her over and tried to pin her left arm to her side while he grappled for the gun in her right hand.

A shot went wild and she heard one of the sisters scream. She couldn't worry about that now, though. She had to get free. She had to find J.D. No matter what, she had to find her son and save him from these lunatics.

She fought viciously. With her free hand, she raked her nails across the tender skin of his scar. She clawed at his eyes, dug her knee into his groin. Nothing seemed to faze him.

One hand was at her throat, squeezing, squeezing while his other hand pried loose the gun in her hand. He flung it aside and then, his fingers tightening around her neck, he reached for the burlap bag.

As he upended it, a black, ropey body tumbled to the ground. As quick as lightning, his hand flicked out and he snatched the snake behind the head. He brought it close to Evangeline's face, and when he poked the snout with his club, the mouth widened, revealing the cottony interior and the long, razorlike fangs.

The swampy stench of the snake filled her nostrils as a cold, black terror dropped over her. Was this what he had in store for J.D.?

Adrenaline surged through her veins as her hand
scrabbled across the dirt, searching for the gun. Her fingers closed around a stick, and when he lifted the snake high over his head, mumbling words she could not understand, Evangeline reared up and drove the makeshift weapon into his eye with all the strength she could muster.

He screamed and dropped the snake.

The thick body fell hard against Evangeline's chest, then sprang forward in a blur. The fangs sunk into the man's neck and hung for the longest time as he fell backward to the ground, writhing in pain.

Evangeline grabbed the club and scrambled to her feet. Flinging the snake aside, the man, on hands and knees now, tried to get up, too, but Evangeline was ruthless now. She swung the club and connected with his temple, then the back of his neck. He fell face forward into the dirt and did not move again.

Dropping the club, Evangeline turned. Rebecca lay on the ground at the foot of the porch steps, blood gushing from a wound in her chest. Her sister was on her knees beside her.

“She's been hit,” Lena said on a sob. She lifted Rebecca's slim body in her arms and rocked her back and forth. “I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry.” She looked up with shimmering eyes. “I never meant for this to happen.”

“I know.”

“She's my baby sister. I'm supposed to take care of her, but I couldn't help her. I couldn't save her.”

Evangeline turned from the weeping woman and bolted up the steps. As she stepped inside the house, J.D.'s cries seemed to surround her and she knew where he was.

She opened the door to the whispering room, where she herself had once lay hidden.

A ray of sunshine fell on J.D., and for a moment, Evangeline's breath caught in her throat as the light haloed his hair. The dark history of the house whispered through the silent rooms as she bent and gently picked him up, cradling him to her heart.

“It's okay. Shush. It's okay. I'm here now.”

Something in her voice must have reassured him because he calmed almost instantly. His little fist tangled in his mother's hair and he held on for dear life.