Between Dusk and Dawn (33 page)

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Authors: Lynn Emery

Tags: #mystery, #murder mystery, #paranormal, #female sleuth, #louisiana, #cajun, #loup garou, #louisiana creole

BOOK: Between Dusk and Dawn
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Don’t let anger burn you
up inside. Orin Young is going to pay one way or another. Believe
me, revenge isn’t sweet at all,” LaShaun said quietly.

Verlena blinked rapidly as
though coming out of a trance. She gazed at the box and rubbed her
right cheek as though waking herself up more. Then she looked at
LaShaun. “You’re right. I’m still working to set myself free from
this rage that comes on me when I think about
him
and those years.”

LaShaun shivered. Evil easily took
root like a poisonous plant in the natural world. If Reverend
Fletcher wanted to truly go after something demonic, he should look
up Orin Young.


Do whatever it takes to
bring daddy down,” Verlena said.


I can’t make such a
promise,” LaShaun said and shook her head.

Verlena ignored her
protest. “You think he’s mixed up in the killings somehow, and
I
know
he’s the
reason Manny became a monster.”


I don’t know for sure Mr.
Orin has anything to do with the recent murders.” LaShaun looked at
the box in her hands. The strong tingle that seemed to travel from
the thick cardboard and through her body implied
differently.


But you came here for a
reason. There was whispers that you got the gift of sight even
stronger than Miss Odette. You found the one that killed your
cousin. Some say he was possessed, and you fought off a devilish
spirit.” Verlena placed a hand on top of the box. “I’ll do anything
to help, just tell me you’ll stop him.”

They stood facing each other in
silence for several long moments. LaShaun looked into Verlena’s
eyes. She didn’t see fury or hatred, but a plea to bring an end to
more suffering. Verlena could have told her again about her
sister’s tortured quest to find peace, or how Manny’s life had been
twisted into something vile. She could have talked about the misery
Flora Lee Young had endured. But she didn’t have to speak. They
both knew that Orin Young had grown to love causing pain and more
as time passed. His sadistic nature had taken a horrific turn
somehow.


I’ll do my best. I can’t
guarantee more because I’d be lying to you,” LaShaun said
finally.


That’s all I ask.” Verlena
hugged her hard for a few seconds and stepped back. She wore a
sheepish grin. “I got to admit I was curious to meet you in person.
You have a strong faith.”


Surprised I’m not wearing
black clothes and fingernail polish with weird tattoos all over?”
LaShaun smiled back at her.


Are there normal tattoos?”
Verlena wisecracked. She shook her head slowly, and her smile
faded. “Thank you for trying. You’re the first person from Beau
Chene or even Vermillion Parish to come talk to me. Except for a
reporter. She just wanted find dirt on the family to explain
Manny’s behavior.”


There was plenty to find
it turns out. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...” LaShaun frowned at the
way her thoughts slipped out.


No, no, you’re right. But
you’re not looking to exploit us for some tabloid. If I can help,
burn some candles or help you make a gris-gris, just let me
know.”

LaShaun laughed hard. “You definitely
listened to too many of stories about me and Monmon
Odette.”


Maybe so.” Verlena’s face
lit up when she smiled again.

LaShaun could feel that this woman now
had love and joy in her life to fight the darkness from her past.
Verlena’s smile made her look like a younger, prettier version of
what Flora Lee might have once looked like.


No, cher. You go to church
and light a candle. Say prayers for your brother’s soul, that your
mama finds peace; and pray for your daddy’s soul, too.” LaShaun
nodded slowly at the shocked expression on Verlena’s
face.


I’ll pray for Manny to
find redemption. I don’t want mama to die miserable and full of
guilt. But daddy?” Verlena’s expression hardened. “I know the
scriptures say we should forgive. That one I’m going to need the
rest of my life to work on.”

LaShaun placed a hand on her arm.
“Take care. I’ll be in touch.”

On the drive back to Louisiana LaShaun
considered what she’d learned. Her gaze kept drifting to the box
she’d placed on the passenger seat. Once she crossed the state
line, LaShaun stopped at a gas station that also had a sandwich
shop inside. She went inside carrying the box and sat in booth with
hard bright orange benches. Once again she looked at the contents.
There were copies of land deeds going back ninety years. Two of the
pictures showed vacant land. Another photo showed an old house
being bulldozed. Then three more showed the construction of another
house at various stages until its completion. The first photos were
shot in the sixties. The dates on the photos showing the house
being built had 1976 stamped on the bottom. LaShaun had wanted all
originals, the items handled by Flora Lee, her family all those
years ago. And by the youthful Orin Young. Her senses picked up the
mystical timeline of how evil grew from a seed into a thick choking
vine.

 

 

Chapter 18

 

 

Later that evening Chase came over to
LaShaun’s house just after six. The last fall daylight had
disappeared. Dusk did not linger long past four in the afternoon
that time of year. He didn’t talk much, but the tense expression
said a lot more than words could convey. Another body had been
found near White Lake. He had a long night ahead. M.J. had
coordinated a meeting with investigators from two other neighboring
sheriff departments, Cameron and Lafayette Parish. Louisiana State
Police detectives would also attend.

LaShaun sat on her bed, legs folded
under her, when Chase came out of the shower. He brought the clean
smell of soap with him when the bathroom door opened. He gave her a
tired smile then pulled a forest green long sleeve t-shirt over his
head.


I wish you could just stay
here and rest tonight,” she said and watched his strong muscular
legs step into a pair of indigo jeans.


I’m lucky M.J. couldn’t
set the meeting up until seven thirty. At least that gave me time
to come steal a kiss and some food,” he joked.


A decent night’s sleep
would be better. Talking about killing and wickedness after a long
day of seeing it up close isn’t good,” LaShaun said.

Chase sat next to her on the bed and
pulled LaShaun against his body. “You just summed up one serious
occupational hazard of a lawman, and a soldier at war. We try not
to let it, but this stuff seeps into your skin. We have to work
hard to shake it.”


I know, cher. I know.”
LaShaun brushed the damp hair from his forehead.


Yeah, you do understand.
One more thing to love about you.” He held her close for a few
moments. The soft patter of all rain outside seemed to soothe him
as he relaxed in her embrace. “By the way, what did you find out
from Manny’s aunt?”


Orin Young wasn’t a good
father or husband.” LaShaun gave him a quick summary. The longer
she talked, the more Chase’s expression tightened again.


After ten years as a cop
nothing surprises me. I’ve learned so many nasty secrets are kept
inside families.” Chase shook his head. “But it’s not evidence Orin
is a killer.”


Let’s talk about something
else. You need a break.” LaShaun brushed his thick dark hair with
her fingers.


Yeah, long night
ahead.”

When he pulled away LaShaun shivered
at the loss of warmth. “I fixed some gumbo and garlic bread. The
temperature is going to dip down into the low forties tonight.
You’ll need something hot in your tummy rambling around the
countryside in this weather.”


Thanks, hon,” Chase said
over his shoulder and continued to check the items on his duty
belt. “But we won’t be going out to this new crime scene. Too dark
to see anything at this point. We’ve got pictures
though.”

LaShaun watched him for a few seconds.
She wanted him to be safe, and not see any more ugliness than he’d
already experienced. “How bad is this one?”


Bad enough, but the good
news is I’m sure this is plain old ordinary human evil.” Chase
turned around and rested both hands on his waist. “Nothing magical,
we just have to find a guy who’s got a lot of anger in him. We call
it ‘over kill’.”

She nodded. “Way more violence than
was needed to kill the victim, right?”


Exactly. This murderer
likes to watch them suffer. I’ve only taken a few of those profile
courses, but I’d say he enjoys the moment when his victim realizes
there’s no way out; the terror in their eyes when they see their
own death reflected in the killer’s,” Chase spoke in an even,
professional tone. But his hands clenched into fists. “I’m going to
work flat out to catch this sicko.”


The victim is a young
homeless guy with a history of using and dealing drugs,” LaShaun
said without hesitation. In fact she didn’t even realize for a
moment that she’d spoken the words aloud.

Chase walked over to her and pulled
LaShaun into his arms. “Try to unplug from whatever psychic
wavelength you’re on, LaShaun. Like you said, too much of this
stuff can poison your soul.”

She rested her head against his chest.
“I wish you didn’t have to follow trails of blood. After being in
Afghanistan and seeing that carnage. It’s already made you feel
distant from your family. Being with me doesn’t help.”

Chase used a long forefinger to lift
her face until they gazed into each other’s eyes. “Being with you
helps me feel connected.”

They shared a sweet kiss, holding each
other for a time to fight off the chill that came from brushing
shoulders with ice cold evil. LaShaun wanted to pull off his
clothes and feel the heat of his skin, but duty called. Forty
minutes later Chase had finished a bowl of gumbo, dressed in his
warm Vermillion Parish Sheriff’s Department jacket and was gone.
LaShaun turned on the television while she cleaned up after their
meal. She found a station that re-played the six o’clock news
they’d missed while eating.


Chief Criminal
Investigator Chase Broussard spoke at a press conference about the
latest gruesome murder discovered near White Lake,” a handsome
anchor man intoned gravely.

LaShaun dried her hands of soapy water
and went to the television. Footage from the press conference
earlier that day in the afternoon played. Chase stood outside the
station. M.J. was on his right, and Chase’s opponent in the
election stood to his left. LaShaun was convinced M.J. had made
that concession so Dave Goudchaux wouldn’t accuse her of playing
favorites. He gazed at Chase as though he wanted to shove him aside
and take the spotlight. Still he managed to affect an “I could do
this better” expression.

Chase gave a brief description of the
crime, the body of a man had been found by two Louisiana Wildlife
and Fisheries employees. Reporters peppered him with questions once
he’d finished his short statement devoid of details. Chase
deflected most of them with a standard “Our investigation is
on-going” response. Then James Schaffer took a step away from the
crowd of about seven reporters.


I’m Jim Schaffer with the
Investigation News Network,” Schaffer said in his best “I’m
important” voice. “Is the Vermillion Parish Sheriff’s Office close
to stopping this slaughter, and is it true that an occult gang is
linked these murders?”

M.J. changed places with Chase as he
stepped back to let the boss take over. Her eyes flashed anger, but
her voice held steady. “We continue to follow several leads, but an
‘occult gang’ isn’t one of them. We have no such
evidence.”

Schaffer cocked an eyebrow with
professional precision. He allowed the right amount of skepticism
show in his expression. “Our team has spoken to several sources who
believe otherwise. The words rougarou keep coming up.”


We don’t deal in local
legends, only facts,” M.J. snapped back. “That’s all the
information we have.”

LaShaun watched as M.J. led the rest
of the law officers back inside the station. One reporter went on
to repeat the fantastic details Schaffer had interjected into the
press conference. She shook her head and finished cleaning up the
kitchen.

Hours later the red numbers of the
digital clock on LaShaun’s night stand glowed softly, reminding her
that it was after midnight. She’d tried to go to bed early since
she intended to visit Manny again at the forensic hospital. This
time she would go alone, and she would not tell Chase. He had
enough on his mind; but mostly because she didn’t want him to
insist on going with her. Manny would be more talkative if she went
alone. When the antique clock chimed the half hour LaShaun tossed
the down blanket aside and sat up. The house was chilly, so she
turned up the heat since she would be out of bed. The heavy leather
bound book sat on the table in the seating area near her
queen-sized bed. She gathered up the knit throw her grandmother had
made and wrapped it around her. Then she sat in one of the two
comfy chairs near the window. She began reading the yellowed pages,
turning them carefully.

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