Penumbra (12 page)

“Why are you still here, Jonah?” she asked.

“The night’s full of sadness. Bad moon.” He pointed to the sky where the moon floated from behind a cloud. For a moment, a banner of stars was also revealed, and then all was concealed by the clouds.

“Sitting on the front step won’t keep bad news from coming in my door.” Her voice broke at the last. She sobbed softly. “I want my grandbaby.”

Jonah remained sitting. Lucille did not show her grief easily. She was not a tough woman, but she had built walls around herself. When one crumbled and fell, it brought chaos and shame, for Lucille and those who witnessed. From long years of practice, he waited her out. Her heard her sobs subside, and then the small intake of breath that signaled her efforts to regain control.

“Ruth will be telling everyone in the black church that I kept you here with me all night.”

Jonah registered the bitterness in her words. For all that Ruth obsessed about Lucille, there was some of the same going in the opposite direction. “Ruth won’t say anything. She’s worried about Suzanna, too.”

“She hates me. She’s hated me every day for the last thirty-seven years.”

Jonah didn’t deny it. Why should he, when it was true? “Ruth cares about Marlena and Suzanna. She helped raise that girl of yours, and she was there the day Suzanna was born. She fed her her first bottle and changed her first diaper. Ruth can act cold as stone, but Marlena is part of her heart.”

“She has reason to hate me,” Lucille said, and Jonah heard the slamming of the door. He was surprised to see Lucille’s bare toes peeping out from beneath the edge of her cotton gown as she came up beside him and used his shoulder for support as she sat down. “Sometimes I hate myself.”

Jonah sat perfectly still. Long ago, there had been a time when he would have put his arm around Lucille and let her cry herself out against his chest. She had been such a pretty little thing, so dainty and delicate. Bedelia Sellers had never said aloud that part of Jonah’s job was to protect Lucille. She hadn’t had to. Jonah knew. When he drove Lucille to town, he followed behind her, letting the men of the town know she wasn’t to be trifled with. Those had been perfect days, and whenever he remembered them, it was always April and the sweet smell of wisteria filled the air.

“Do you believe that the sins of the father are visited upon the children?” Lucille asked.

Jonah knew that sometimes words were a trap. Lucille was quoting the Bible, but the application of those words could be treacherous. “I don’t know. I never thought much of God as a vengeful god. I think he’s a god of love and forgiveness.”

“The Bible says that my sins will fall on my children.” She hesitated. “On my grandchildren.” She spoke under duress.

“Lucille, I think you paid for your own sins, just like I’ve paid for mine.”

“And Marlena? Why has this happened to her?”

“I don’t know. Miss Marlena never hurt a single soul. I don’t understand this, but the Bible tells us, too, that we don’t always understand the ways of the Lord.” He sought to bring her comfort. There wasn’t a soul alive who couldn’t flay the skin from their bones if they thought back over the things they’d done. Now wasn’t the time. “We need to think about what we’ll do when Miss Suzanna comes home.” He turned to face her. “We should have a party.” He realized his mistake. “You and Mr. Bramlett should have a party for Marlena and Suzanna. You could invite all the folks who help find her.”

Normally, a party would be right up Lucille’s alley, but he could see that she wasn’t thinking on festive times. Her face was drawn, the wrinkles more pronounced than he’d ever seen them. He looked away, knowing how much pain his thoughts would cause her.

“When I got pregnant with Jade, I only thought about saving myself,” Lucille said. Her voice seemed disconnected from her body. “I didn’t care what happened to her. I didn’t care that she was my daughter, I only wanted to get rid of her so that I could have my life back.”

Jonah had often wondered how Lucille felt when she looked at Jade. Beneath that practiced coldness, there were feelings. Lucille wasn’t more or less than human. She could not look upon the beauty of her abandoned daughter and feel nothing, no matter how hard she tried. “Jade has been well loved.”

“More so than Marlena,” Lucille said. “I am an evil and selfish woman, Jonah. God should strike me dead right here.”

Jonah felt the dull pain of heartache. The source was always Lucille. He had spent his whole life protecting her, and her worst enemy was herself. “God don’t judge you like that, Lucille. You did the best you could for Jade. If you’d kept her, her life would have been much worse, and you know it.”

“I know I never considered keeping her. From the moment I realized I was pregnant I began to think of ways to get rid of her. If that doctor in Mobile would have aborted her, I would have done it.”

Jonah wanted to get up and run away. The idea of life without Jade was unthinkable. “That’s the past,” he said, trying hard to believe the words he spoke. “Jade is a grown woman. She’s a good woman. You didn’t do her any harm.”

Lucille took several deep breaths. “Now, Marlena. Oh, I wanted that baby. She grew inside me with all the love I had for another living soul. I never touched Jade once she was born. The nurse took her away. But I nursed Marlena. I loved her, and now she may not live. She may die and Suzanna may never be found. And this is all my fault.”

Jonah put his arm around Lucille. He eased her against him so that he supported her. She wouldn’t cry again. Lucille wasn’t a woman of tears. She’d survived by taking action, and by morning, she would have a plan. Her confessions of the night would be something to bury and forget. He rubbed her shoulder as she leaned against him, her breath soft on his neck.

“I’m tired of being alone, Jonah.”

Her words caused him the first surprise she’d given him in years. “You’re not alone, girl. Why do you think I’m sitting out here on this hard old step?”

Her arms went around him and she clung to him. “Thank you, Jonah.”

He didn’t tell her that thanks weren’t necessary. A man protected those he loved.

D
aybreak slipped into the house, bringing the pine walls to a burnished brilliance. Most mornings Jade felt as if she awakened inside some ancient heart, part of the pulse and power of glowing red blood. This morning she thought of the fires of hell as she lay atop the quilt where she’d been all night. She’d drifted in and out of sleep, waking to the nightmare of reality that far surpassed the images of her dreams. Marlena was in a coma. There were no clues to finding Suzanna. Now, it was Saturday. She had appointments at the beauty shop beginning at seven, and she felt as if her shoulders were in the grip of a cruel giant. She’d crossed a line with Frank Kimble, and that, too, troubled her. Frank was a white man. He belonged to a world that would not admit her, at least not in the rigid social structure of Jebediah County. A liaison with Frank would define her role in Drexel into something she found unacceptable. She would not be the mistress of a white man. She would not hurt Ruth and Jonah, and herself, in that way. Her whole life had been a balancing act, and though she’d slipped, she had no intention of falling off the wire at this late date.

She got up, took a quick bath, and drove to the shop. Her movements were sluggish, as if a heavy weight of water held her in place. In front of her shop was a large white oak, and as she parked, she caught the first hint of fall. It was in the rustling of the tree leaves and the cry of the birds, just the merest whisper, but it gave her unreasonable hope. Time continued, and there was comfort in that.

She unlocked the front door, went in, and began her preparations. It was just after six, and she put water to boil on a hot plate she kept in the back. She hadn’t taken time for coffee at her house, but if she was going to make it through the day, she needed a hard jolt of caffeine. As the water heated, she opened the back door, inhaling sharply at the tall, well-built man standing in her doorway. Frank looked like death.

“What? Is it Suzanna?” She put her hand on her heart, a melodramatic gesture that was purely reflexive, as if she could protect that organ from pain.

He shook his head. “May I come in?”

The pulse of blood in her head made her dizzy. Despite her earlier decision, she stepped back, allowing him entrance. He walked through the shop, closed the front door, and locked it.

The kettle screamed, a shrill sound that Jade at first thought came from herself. When she realized what it was, she put coffee in the dripolator and poured in the boiling water. “I’ll have us a cup in a few minutes. You look like you need one.” She was suddenly afraid of what he’d come to tell her.

“I went out to Dantzler Archey’s house last night. I had reason to believe he might know something about Suzanna.”

Jade kept her hand on the aluminum coffeepot. It had been her mother’s, a gift when she opened the shop. Ruth gave practical gifts, things of use. Jade clung to her thoughts, veering away from the direction Frank tried to lead her. She knew Dantzler Archey, knew he was a violent man. The idea of Suzanna at his mercy was almost more than she could bear.

“I didn’t find Suzanna,” Frank continued, “or any sign of her. I found Katy.”

His tone forced Jade’s head up; her gaze found his and she trembled. Death clung to him. “Don’t tell me,” she whispered. “I don’t want to know.”

“I have to tell someone,” Frank said, his eyes dark with pain. “I called Sheriff Miller over in Greene County last night. He said there was nothing he could do. He said Dantzler swore Katy was insane and he was doing his best to care for her.”

Jade got two cups and poured them both black coffee, aware that she was repeating movements from the previous night. She remembered his lips, his kisses that had stoked a fire deep inside her, one that continued to burn. She waited for him to continue, finding his eyes with her gaze as she handed him a cup.

“He had Katy chained in the kitchen, naked. I think the men who work from him are using her. Maybe him, too.”

She never let her gaze falter. She allowed him to infect her with the things he’d seen. She swallowed and put her untouched coffee down.

“There was a boy,” Frank said, squeezing the words out. “Katy’s son, I think. Her son and Lucas’s. He’s been severely burned, and I think Dantzler did it deliberately. I think he tortures the boy and Katy.”

Jade concentrated on slowing her breath. Sometimes, when she was alone in the embalming room with a dead person, someone who’d been mistreated or murdered, she felt things. Like now. She’d learned to hold still and let the feelings ripple through her. Holding on to them was the road to madness. When she had regained some calm, she asked, “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Frank said. He looked at his untouched coffee and put it beside hers. “I want to kill him.”

Dantzler Archey had once struck Jade’s father in the face when Jonah had followed Miss Lucille into Marcel’s fine apparel shop. Jonah had gone to carry the packages for Miss Lucille, as he always did. Archey had accused Jonah of touching the lacy lingerie. Jade had been thirteen, and she hadn’t understood the full implication of what Archey had said, but she understood enough to know that her father had been accused of something shameful. She could see the stain of it spread across Jonah’s face as he rose to his feet.

Jonah’s hands had curled into fists, and Jade had seen hatred in his eyes. The terror of it had made her cry out and run to her father, grabbing his arm, begging him to come away. Jonah had pushed her aside, the anger making his breathing harsh. Miss Lucille had stepped between the two men. She’d taken her purse and swung it hard, slamming Archey in the face. Blood had spurted out of his nose. “Get out of this store,” Lucille had said in an imperious tone. “Get out before I have you put in jail.”

Archey had left, and the next night someone had shot old Jake, the mule, and killed him in the pasture. Jonah had never spoken Dantzler Archey’s name, but Jade knew who’d done it. And she knew to take care when she walked to town alone. For nearly two years she’d had the habit of crawling into the ditch at the sound of an approaching vehicle. Better safe than sorry was the axiom she’d learned to live by where Dantzler Archey was involved.

The idea that someone would kill him left her feeling nothing, but the look on Frank’s face caught her like a physical blow. She shook her head. “No,” she said. “Parchman prison is where he needs to be. I’ve heard that place is worse than hell. You’re a lawman, put him in jail.”

Her words had the desired effect. Frank smiled, and for a moment he shook off the pall of death that had come in the door with him. She was amazed at the power her simple words held, and then she was aware of a charge in the room. The air had turned electric. Frank looked at her, and she felt as if he were slowly removing every stitch of clothing she wore. She felt his gaze move over her breasts, bringing the nipples to erect points. His gaze lingered on her flat stomach before he moved lower, twisting her insides into something that quivered with a hungry need. It happened so quickly, she was unprepared to stop it. She did not want to stop it, even if the costs were high. “Jade.” His voice was hoarse.

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She simply stood, looking at him, desiring his touch.

In a second he was across the small kitchen, his arms around her, his mouth on hers. She pressed herself against him, seeking some relief from the terrible need that had taken over her body. His hands tugged at her dress, pulling the mint green bodice apart.

She felt as if a giant tide moved inside her, drawing her toward shore with a power she could only yield to or drown fighting. Frank’s arm supported her as his lips demanded, bending her backward so that she clung to him.

His hand reached inside her dress, inside her bra, and found her nipple. In a moment it was free and in his mouth. She moaned with pleasure, her fingers lacing into his thick hair, gripping, forcing his head to her breast for more.

She turned her face and caught sight of their reflection in the long mirror that ran down one wall of the shop. His dark head was buried in her breasts, his teeth gently tugging one nipple. She did not recognize herself, her features transfigured by wanton desire. It was enough of a shock to bring her to her senses. She caught his face and held him away from her.

“Frank,” she said. “Frank. We have to stop.”

He grew perfectly still, his short, hot breaths on her exposed skin. He inhaled and lifted his gaze to her. “We don’t have to stop.”

Her tears were unexpected and angry. “Yes, we do. I do.”

His reaction was immediate. He stepped back, pulling her dress together. “I’m sorry, Jade.”

She was not used to contrition on the face of a suitor. Jade was a careful woman, but she was not innocent. Men led to the brink of passion were seldom contrite. “No,” she said slowly, “I’m the one who’s sorry.” She turned and picked up her coffee, aware that her dress was torn, her décolletage revealed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Other than the fact that your sister is in a coma and your niece has been abducted.”

She felt her own lips turn up, a match for his. “Oh, I don’t know. That could be part of it. Another part is that you’re a white deputy and I’m a black hairdresser. I don’t see any future in it except pain and heartache.” She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and clung to her smile. “Just a few little insurmountable issues to consider.”

“Will you have dinner with me tonight?”

She shook her head. “That’s the problem, Frank. Where would we eat? You wouldn’t be welcome in the restaurants that serve me, and I couldn’t walk in the front door of Amy’s Café or the Fish House. They wouldn’t serve me if I sat at a table.”

“Oh, you would be served—”

Jade shook her head. “Because you have the power of the law, you might make them serve me. But what happens after that? I have a business here. My parents live here. I won’t start something I can’t finish.”

Frank’s smile held. “The food there isn’t worth starting something over.” He stepped closer and his hands touched her bare arms. “Come to the house. I’ll cook.”

Jade felt the hot desire deep in her bones. She wanted to melt, but she couldn’t allow it. “You can cook?” She fought to keep her balance.

“I’m a good cook. I learned in France. Someone there taught me.”

She knew she should say no. She was not a woman who wanted or needed a secret life, and Frank could never be a daylight suitor. But she could not deny herself. “Okay,” she said. “Just dinner.” The words were a transparent lie, but she felt better saying them. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Unless Marlena gets better and I have to stay with her.” He nodded. “Unless I get a break in the case and have to pursue a lead.”

She reached up and touched his face, felt the growth of dark beard that had felt so exciting against the tender skin of her breast. “This may be a tragic mistake,” she said.

Frank’s eyes smiled this time. “My life is one tragic mistake after another, but this isn’t one of them. I want to know you, Jade.”

“I have to get ready for the customers.” She didn’t have time to go home and change her dress, but she had a smock in the back that she could put on. It would be hot, but it would cover the torn bodice.

“I’m going to Hattiesburg, but I’ll be back around five.”

“Hattiesburg?” She felt hope. “Is it Suzanna?”

“It’s the man Marlena was meeting. He’s been gone since Thursday afternoon. He hasn’t shown up for work or even called in. I’m going to take a look around his house, see if I can pick up a lead.”

“Do you think he has Suzanna?”

“I don’t know,” Frank said. “I think he was there. He may have seen what happened to her. He may know more.”

“Are you going alone?” She was surprised that she wanted to go with him.

“Yes.” He seemed to read her mind. “Do you want to go?”

“Yes”—she closed her eyes—“but I have appointments, and I should be here if Marlena needs me. I don’t even know how she’s doing this morning.”

“I’ll be back,” he said. “I’ll tell you tonight what I find out.”

He went out the back door, stepping into the sun and heat, disappearing down the alley. Jade put on her smock and unlocked the front door again, opening it wide. Beneath the thrill of anticipation, she felt a beat of fear. Things were changing. She wasn’t sure what she felt for Frank, except desire. Talk around town was that he was mentally unstable. He’d just proven that by asking her to dinner.

Jonah stood under the branches of the oak tree and waited until he saw Frank exit the alley behind Hollywood Styles, cross the street, and head toward the courthouse. Jonah’s heart was troubled, a pain that reverberated in the pounding of his head. Jade and the white deputy were involved, and Jonah saw disaster on the horizon. Not broken hearts that would mend and tears that would dry, but true tragedy. He’d seen the signs of death the evening before. He’d waited all night for someone to come and tell him who had died, but no word had come. Death hung over Jebediah County, and Jonah knew that it was only a matter of time before it struck.

Jade was courting calamity. He’d suspected it last night when he walked in on the two of them, both so interested in the coffee in front of them that they couldn’t look at each other. Now he knew for certain. He’d seen Frank and his daughter in a passionate clinch. His first instinct had been to rush into the shop and save his daughter from the mistake she was about to make. He didn’t do that, though. Jonah understood the power of passion, the pull of the forbidden. He could have stopped them this time, but there would be a next time, and a next, and a next, until the passion was spent or the pressures of living a secret tore them apart. Or until Jade was destroyed. The course they’d chosen did not lead to happiness.

Jonah lingered in the shade of the oak, sorting through the crossroads he’d passed in his own life. Sometimes, it just seemed he made the same decision over and over again. He’d spent the night not with his wife, but with Lucille. The memory of her toes, exposed beneath her nightgown, came back to him, an intimate knowledge of a white woman he should not have. She’d asked him if the sins of the parent would be visited upon the child. He’d told her no, but now he wasn’t certain. Jade was his daughter, and she’d chosen a path that could only lead to disaster. If she fell in love with Frank, truly loved him in that way that was given only once, her heart would be destroyed. Was this the punishment that Jonah had exacted upon her?