Echoes of a Distant Summer (83 page)

Serena sat in the chair and looked around her at the dead bodies and wondered how it was that she was still alive. She could not imagine what more could be squeezed from her. Wakefulness had become nearly as terrible as slumber. She had been begging for death and her pleas had been denied. She remained sitting in her chair. She had no energy and there was no place she wanted to go. She might have gone on sitting in the chair until the police arrived, but she smelled a trace of cigar smoke and opened her eyes. King Tremain was standing beside her.

“What do you want?” she demanded. “What more can you do to me?”

King smiled and said, “Yo’ heart is just a dried prune, but the rest of you is flesh.” He turned to the doorway and called, “Lakeesha! Come on in here, girl.” The little girl that Serena had seen at Sister Bornais’s house walked in the room carrying her doll. King said to the girl, “Why don’t you show her how you done learned to use yo’ needle?”

The look on the girl’s face was so filled with hate that Serena shuddered involuntarily. The girl pulled a long needle out of her hair and wiggled it slowly through the head of the doll.

A piercing pain exploded in Serena’s skull. She screamed and fell out
of her chair. She put her hands to her head, but the excruciating pain would not abate. Serena begged for it to stop. She pleaded, but it didn’t cease until King said, “Okay, Lakeesha. I think she got the idea now. You can go.”

Serena sat up with difficulty. She could barely open her eyes. The pain had been so great that the mere memory of it caused her to wince.

King puffed on his cigar and said, “There’s a whole mess of her kinfolk just waiting for you outside. If it wasn’t for me, they’d be in here now makin’ yo’ life hell. They done already divided you up. Each one of them is ready to cause you enough pain to drive you out of yo’ mind.”

Serena didn’t have the strength to argue. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

“You know who that is lyin’ out there in the hall?”

“I know who it is.” Serena nodded. She knew it was Elroy. The one who had begun it all. She had recognized his facial features from the moment he first entered the sitting room. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to get off yo’ ass and go out there and take care of my son! Like you should’ve done when he was a baby! I want you to call an ambulance and get him some medical attention! You do that and maybe I’ll keep them off you.”

Serena stood up and moved woodenly to the phone. “Put some speed on!” King prodded. Serena hurried up and called an ambulance and the police. King then directed her to remove the pistol from Elroy’s hand and place it in Pug’s. When the police and paramedics arrived Serena was kneeling beside Elroy. She had covered him with a blanket and had attempted to stanch the flow of blood. She watched the paramedics start an IV and connect telemetry wires to Elroy. Once he had been stabilized, they went on to see if there was anyone else alive among the carnage. Serena’s mind was a thousand miles away. She thought about the boy Elroy had been and the evil she had perpetrated on him. Now more than fifty years later, he was lying injured on the floor in front of her. She knew there was no way she could atone for what she had done.

A detective interrupted her reverie and asked her for a statement which she gave exactly as King had coached her. It included her saying that Elroy was her son. Her explanations seemed to satisfy the officer’s questions. After scheduling an appointment at police headquarters the
next day, the officer allowed her to assist in getting Elroy out to the ambulance. As he was lifted into the vehicle, one of the paramedics asked if Elroy had insurance because if he had none, he would be taken to County Hospital. Serena climbed in the ambulance and told the man to drive to the best hospital in the city. She would take care of all the bills. When the paramedic told her that only family could ride with the patient, she replied without hesitation that she was his mother. She was strapped in beside Elroy’s gurney, but before the paramedic closed the rear doors, Serena looked out and saw a crowd of people standing by the side entrance of the mansion and they were all staring at her. These were people whom no one else seemed to notice. Law enforcement personnel moved through them without ever stopping. The caterers moved trays and food warmers through their midst without a word. They were silent watchers, but in their silence was an ominous hatred. It was palpable. She looked down at Elroy and for a moment thought she saw King lying in his place. The doors were slammed shut and the siren began blaring as the ambulance pulled out into traffic. Serena stared out the small rear windows as the watchers and the mansion disappeared in the distance.

She looked down at Elroy’s face again. She saw how she had briefly mistaken him for King. The Tremain genes were strong. She could see pieces of Jacques and Jackson in his face. She took his hand in hers and studied it. It was the large, callused hand of a working man. Although she knew nothing about his life, she took comfort in holding his hand. He was the son of the only man she had ever loved. She could’ve made him her son as well, but she had lacked the wisdom to make such a decision. She sighed. The past could not be undone, but perhaps she could be of use to him now. She resolved to get Elroy the very best doctors and the best medical care money could buy. She recalled that hospitals were terribly lonely places at night. Perhaps she could even provide him companionship. As she was pondering other ways that she could make a difference for him, she realized that the heavy cloud that had hung over her since the funeral had risen noticeably. She felt a sense of purpose that she had not experienced in a very long time. She squeezed Elroy’s hand gratefully. She thought, If I am to go crazy, at least let this one not be on my conscience. As the ambulance drove through the streets with its siren blaring, Serena held his hand and prayed out loud, “Please, don’t die! Please, Lord, don’t let him die.”

P
res set his coffee cup down and leaned both elbows on the table. He looked across at Jackson and said, “I really appreciate you allowing me to stay here. Last night was the first sound sleep I’ve had. I’ve been sleeping in my car and staying at motels for the last couple of weeks and that has really been a bear.”

“No problem, bro,” Jackson replied, sipping his own coffee. “That’s what friends are for. If you’d told me about your living situation earlier, we could’ve made arrangements. There’s money for you to live in the best hotels if you want it. And wherever I have a roof, you always have a place to stay.”

“I didn’t want to ask you, particularly after all I had said against taking the money and getting involved in this war. But I’ve realized that you never had any choice. And now that your woman has been kidnapped …”

At the mention of Elizabeth, Jackson put his head in his hands. He had not been able to sleep the last couple of nights because of his concerns for her safety. Each day that passed without word from Deleon caused him to get more depressed. He doubted the wisdom of his attack on Deleon’s house and he regularly cursed himself for failing to save her when he had the chance.

Pres watched his friend with concern and said, “I’m sorry to remind you of her.”

“The thought of her is never out of my mind. I wish I could stop worrying.”

“I’ve only seen you like this once before, that time you came home from Mexico talking about that Mexican girl. What was her name?”

“Maria. Maria Cervantes.”

“Well, seems this woman has gotten under your skin in the same manner.”

“This is different. I was a boy with Maria. I love Elizabeth as a man loves a woman. And I never told her how much I truly love her.”

Theresa came with two steaming plates of food and set them down in front of Jackson and Pres. Jackson pushed his away. He wasn’t hungry, but Theresa wouldn’t hear of it. She pushed the plate back in front of him and said, “Eat! Must be strong! Eat now! Good food!” Jackson
merely shook his head. An expression of worry spread across Theresa’s brown face. She put her hand on Jackson’s shoulder and said forcefully, “We get her! Everybody looking! We get her!”

Jackson patted Theresa’s hand and mumbled a few words of gratitude as he looked down and studied his plate. He picked up his fork and pushed the food around.

“How long has she been gone?” Pres asked.

“I don’t really know. We got a call from them on the twelfth and haven’t heard from them since we hit their hideouts.”

“From what you told me, it sounds like you’ve been leaving no stone unturned. The papers are full of news about the fire at DiMarco’s restaurant. The heroin that was found has created an uproar and it looks like Paul is now under investigation for drug dealing, racketeering, and tax evasion. The family has disavowed all knowledge of his activities and are distancing themselves from him too.”

“Yeah,” Jackson said with a grim smile. “His neck is in a pretty tight noose.”

“I read something else in the paper.” Pres looked into Jackson’s eyes. “It seems that Bedrosian was beaten severely in the same parking lot on the night you fought those two thugs.”

Jackson answered with an uncaring shrug, “So?” and returned Pres’s gaze without blinking.

Pres merely smiled and returned to his original line of thought. “There was a big spread in the afternoon papers on the death of John Tree and his gang. The papers are saying that it was a professional hit because the building was blown up with some high-tech form of plastique. You’ve been busy.”

“Not as busy as I’m going to be!” Jackson said through gritted teeth. His expression took on a hostile cast. “I’ll kill every one of those assholes that I can find! They’ve awakened the wrong person! My grandfather had the right idea all along!”

Pres studied Jackson’s face with a thirty-year span of familiarity. He could read the nuance in the movement of the lips and the height of the eyebrow. Jackson was in every way but blood his brother. They had grown into men together. It was Jackson who had reached out and held him without judgment in the bad times after he returned from Vietnam. It was Jackson who took two years out of his career and enticed him to go to Spain and live the libertine life of an expatriate. Pres credited
those two years as a major factor in the reclamation of his sanity. Even if he did not agree with everything that Jackson was doing, how could he not join him? This was his brother and this was the time that family really counted. Pres reached his hand across the table and grasped Jackson’s hand. He said, “I want you to count me in on whatever plans you make to rescue her! I’ve got your back!”

Jackson gripped Pres’s hand. “Thanks, bro, but this isn’t your fight.”

“I’m making it mine! You’re my best friend. What concerns you, concerns me. I’m going to the mat with you! I’m in all the way to the top of my head! And I know what that means!”

Carlos walked in with a sheaf of papers. “Pardon! Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He gave Jackson a nod. “Do you have a moment?”

“Just a minute please, Carlos,” Jackson replied and turned to Pres. “Are you really in? This is what you want to do?”

“To the top of my head.”

Jackson turned to Carlos. “He can hear whatever we have to talk about. Pres, this is Carlos. The one I’ve told you about.”

Carlos smiled and said, “I wondered how long it would be before you started bringing them in. I’ve been expecting you, Pres. Let’s get down to business. There’s news.”

Jackson burst out, “Elizabeth?”

Carlos shook his head. “It’ll take them at least a week to get relocated. We won’t hear from them for a while. Don’t worry, they need her alive and well if they intend to trade. That would be the only purpose in taking her hostage.”

Jackson answered, “I wish I could believe that.”

“All you can do is hope.… Well, we got a call from Delbert Witherspoon. He wants to talk with you as soon as possible. He left a number. Good day or night.”

“That’s good,” Jackson said. “That’s real good. DiMarco must be putting some pressure on him about those transfers we froze.”

“There’s more news. The maître d’ called. She complimented you on a job well done. She also said she’d like to take you up on your offer of assistance. She says she has something in mind that will benefit you both. And she left a number.”

Pres asked, “Are you talking about Dominique?”

Jackson nodded. “That’s your girl.”

Carlos said to Jackson, “If your description of her actions was accurate, this woman is not just a maître d’. This woman is an assassin.”

“Dominique?” Pres questioned in an incredulous tone. “When we were in Spain I told you she was tough, but an assassin? I don’t think so.”

Jackson countered, “She was mighty cool about almost being killed.”

Carlos tapped the table to get attention. “Let’s make sure of certain things. I don’t want to trust her with any of our information. I don’t want her to know where our safe houses are. And if we do something together, I don’t want her covering the exit behind us. We clear?”

“Sounds reasonable to me,” Jackson said, standing up. “I’ll get on these phone calls now.”

“Wait! There’s more news from New Orleans.”

Jackson turned to Carlos. “Do we have a hostage to trade for Elizabeth?”

“No, and it won’t be possible to get one. Pug DuMont, his wife, and his son, Xavier, are all dead.”

“What? That wasn’t our plan! What happened?”

“It appears that your uncle, Elroy Fontenot, got there before us. From the reports I’ve received, which were based on articles in the local papers, it looks like he went in to save your grandmother, who had been kidnapped out of her hotel by the DuMonts. A gun battle ensued and he was seriously wounded in the effort.”

“Serena Tremain? What was she doing in New Orleans in the first place? Why would Elroy risk his life for her? That doesn’t make any sense!”

“There’s a big investigation going on behind this. My people can’t get through the police cordon. I’m afraid we’d have to go there to make sense out of it.”

“We don’t have time for that!” Jackson replied. “What we can do is make sure that the best surgeon in the United States is brought in.”