Blood Parish Read online

  “I appreciate your help. We don’t have the firepower out here in the sticks for something like this.”

  “Your deputies are welcome to assist. My team will coach them in what we’re looking for. Next order of business would be locating Agent Blondeaux.”

  Izzy put on her concerned face. “I’ll tell my deputies. We’ll find her.”

  “I sent an agent to her parents’ place. No one was home there, either.”

  “Sorry, I don’t know where my sister and her husband might be.”

  The arrogant agent faced the mound. “I know about the opposition Angel faced taking that house… the hostility.” He paused. “She told me about your recent reconciliation and even cooperation in the investigation. Do you think she might’ve had a run-in with someone that didn’t appreciate her involvement?”

  She stared him down. “Maybe my mother. Angel and I were planning to confront her.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to start my search with you, the last person that saw her.”

  “I told you…”

  “Maybe we should get in my air-conditioned vehicle, and you can take me through the whole day yesterday, leading up to this point.”

  This request was unexpected, but it failed to damper her spirit.

  Chapter 79

  Trevor sat upright, back arched against the chair in the kitchen of the funeral home. Bobby mirrored him, not having said a word since the federal agents departed. They had answered all the agent’s questions about Angel, not that it was an interrogation. It was just a friendly chat that hit too close to home.

  Bobby waited through Trevor’s contemplation. The smug man he’s know for all these years suddenly seemed shaken - unsure.

  The reverend finally came back to life, and began his own interrogation. “You were pretty loose with information.”

  “I only told them what they knew already.”

  “You told them Angel was with Izzy last night.”

  “She was,” Bobby answered.

  “And that Angel told you they were going to the mansion.”

  “They were.”

  “We don’t know what Izzy is telling them.” Trevor clasped his fingers together on the table. “Never offer anything.”

  “You’re paranoid.”

  He blinked. “How dare you talk back to me?”

  Bobby looked away but managed to speak. “I never thought to use these words, but you are a false prophet.”

  “Bobby.” His fist pounded the table. “What do you think would happen if the family was suddenly gone?”

  “Gone?”

  “If they weren’t your net. What would you do? You think you’d just move on to another funeral home? That someone would hire you? That you’d have a roof over your head?”

  He bit his lip. “Hypothetical scenarios are counterproductive. No one knows exactly what they would do until they do it.”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. You think you have a friend in Angel. That’s all fine and dandy, but she has the power to bring down the family, and you have knowledge she wants.”

  “We enjoy each other’s company.”

  “I prefer you talking to the dead.”

  “Which the family likes to bring to my doorstep.”

  The reverend leaned forward, reaching out to touch his arm. “Speaking of which, you need to help me bring in a delivery from my car.”

  He squinted. “A delivery? Another one?”

  “Best not to ask.” Trevor rose with a groan, expecting him to follow.

  “I refuse.”

  Trevor’s eyeballs bulged. “Joe-Joe will no longer be working here. You need to perform his duties. Help me wheel this body inside and fire up the cremator.”

  “I choose not to be complicit anymore.”

  Trevor assessed him. “Then, perhaps we’ll go visit the new patronne.”

  “New?”

  “Paulette stepped down. Mable is now running things, and she wants to clean house, if you know what I mean. She has your sister.”

  “My cousin, you mean.” This time, he stared him down. “Your daughter. So, that threat doesn’t particularly hold water.”

  “You want to speak the truth now? The truth is that Mable is more ruthless than Paulette ever was. Do you want to test her? Yes, she’s my daughter, and I don’t want to see Mable send a knife across her throat. Do you?”

  “No, that wouldn’t be good. I suppose I can help until I know Lucy May is safe. The cremator is ready to go,” he said absently.

  “Perfect.” Trevor slapped Bobby’s shoulder. “Get the gurney.”

  Bobby forced his legs to move. Once again, he was following orders of the man who had undermined Doug, and dominated him his entire life. This was a reverend disposing of dead bodies. What kind of man could be content with betraying his belief system? How would God sit with that?

  Trevor opened the hatch of his Tiguan as Bobby rolled the gurney. They were at the rear of the home and weren’t visible from the street. Bobby transferred the body bag containing the small body to the stretcher. Hopefully, this was not a child.

  They banged their way through the back door and into the cremator room.

  “Just hit the green button,” Bobby said.

  While Trevor was preoccupied, Bobby unzipped the bag to reveal the face. He expected to see a small, unshaven man with a square jaw, but instead, he saw someone entirely different.

  Bobby froze. “That’s maw maw Paulette.”

  Trevor hurried to zip the bag. He looked up at him. “Yes. Mable and Izzy did this. I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “Her throat. You just said… I need to rescue Lucy May.”

  “How can someone so smart be such an idiot? Doing what you're told is how we’ll save Lucy May.”

  “I need to get to Lucy May!” he insisted.

  Trevor pushed his hand into Bobby’s neck. “Incinerate her, or you’ll be next!”

  Bobby’s fist connected with Trevor’s jaw of its own accord. He had never witnessed a man being knocked unconscious before. Trevor’s eyes rolled back and his arms stiffened as his body fell to the ground – it was nothing like the movies.

  With the incinerator door open and the conveyor on standby, Bobby placed maw maw Paulette’s body on the far end of the rollers. Trevor, on the other hand, needed to be scooped up like a bride crossing the threshold. He used his legs to lift the man, rolling him on the conveyor in front of his grandmother.

  “Forgive me, Lucy May. But one day you will thank me.”

  Bobby sent the carriage forward toward the intense fire. Trevor moaned over the sound of the flaming cavern. Fire engulfed the cavity just within the chamber, like the very entrance to hell. The reverend’s head was feet away from the opening when he started screaming. By the time Trevor’s hair had caught fire, it was too late.

  “No need to explain yourself to God,” Bobby said. “She’ll know what you did.”

  Chapter 80

  Mark pushed his torso off the mattress while in Bobby’s cage. His hands were still tied together. The pasty blood had dried to his skin like a sunburn. His nose felt broken, and his eyes were sure to have a purple mask around them. The noise that woke him came closer. His ribs throbbed as he inched himself upright.

  He didn’t remember exactly what had happened. The electricity had gone out. He left the house to meet the informant, but he never made it to the car. At least, he didn’t remember getting that far.

  At one point, he had awoke in a fog. His body was completely bound to a chair in a dark room, but he didn’t stay conscious for long.

  Then, he woke up a bit more lucid with a pounding headache and bruised ribs. He was back in the basement of Lorna’s house. Tape covered his mouth, and rope wrapped around his hands and feet. Urine wafted in the air. He was the cage’s newest prisoner.

  Someone appeared in the shadow of the staircase. Was it Angel coming to save him? No, it was Joe-Joe. The bastard leaned against the outside of the cage, reaching his hand
through a gap to pull the tape off his mouth.

  Joe-Joe asked, “You doin’ alright? I had to drug you. Couldn’t have you alerting the feds.”

  “Feds. They were here?”

  “Come and gone. Looking for Angel.”

  “You drugged me?”

  “Morphine. I gave it to you at the church with the sandwich, but you probably don’t remember. I’m sure it’s why you’re not crying in pain. Shit. I was in there with you when the G-men came down. One look under the tarp, and we’d be having a different conversation.”

  Mark spit, running his tongue over his split lip. “They’ll be back, you know. Once they realize what’s really going on.”

  “Maybe.” He leaned on the thick wiring. “Right now, it’s just you and me. The beatdown is done. Now comes the mindfuck.”

  “Where’s Angel? You better not have hurt her.” He cringed when his lungs took in a breath.

  “Ooh, big talk. Gotta admit, you’re less of a wuss than I thought. She’s never coming back here again, obviously, or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Why did you do this?”

  He slid down the cage to sit almost beside him. “She’s stubborn, and I’m persistent. We were made for each other. What’s that smell? Is that piss?”

  “What did you expect, asshole?”

  Joe-Joe laughed like an adolescent. “Pissy-pants. I’ll be sure to let Blondo know while I’m fucking her tonight.”

  “You’re a piece of shit.”

  Joe-Joe looked over the cage. “Me and her are going to have a family. Or we’ll try to have a family. And if first you don’t succeed, try - try - try - try - try again. And again.”

  “She’d never do that.”

  “No choice. She’s got a womb, and her momma wants a granddaughter like nobody’s business.”

  “You have to know how wrong that is.”

  Joe-Joe rolled his eyes. “Wrong. Right. Nobody tells us what to do in Blondeaux Parish.”

  “You are out of your mind.”

  He hacked, then spit on the floor. “I’m the one out here.”

  Mark brought his bound hands up to wipe at his nose. He felt for a cut on his head. Joe-Joe was right about the morphine. “It’s a hell of a thing when the other person doesn’t love you back. I know that much.”

  “Gonna be my friend now?” Joe-Joe got to his feet, puffing his chest out. “You should be glad I nabbed you on my own. The only reason I’m keeping you alive is so I can tell you all about it afterward. Maybe make a video for you.”

  “And then what?”

  “When the feds are gone, you’ll get cremated. Got to wait for an opening, though. The place has been busy lately.” He started to walk away. “Maybe I can spread your ashes under the magnolia tree out there. Me and Angel can have picnics on you.” He laughed at his own wit.

  Mark fell back onto his side. Angel was right about hindsight.

  Chapter 81

  Hours had passed. Angel couldn’t tell the time but figured it was evening. She spotted three ceiling cameras like in a casino. There had to be a security room with multiple screens dedicated to every part of the house.

  So far, bland silence dominated the room. The image of her maw maw Paulette’s slashed throat swam in her head. Angel’s mom killed her with no regard. All those years of coldness made sense. Mable was dead inside. And Trevor had watched, shocked about the overthrow more than the horror that came with it.

  Her mom claimed to have made sure from birth that Angel wouldn’t betray the family. What did she mean?

  The door opened at the top of the steps. One set of feet tapped down to the floor and it wasn’t Lucy May. Anxiety gripped her spine. She couldn’t act any differently, or Joe-Joe might suspect she was working him.

  “Hey, Blondo. You fine as sunshine?” He stepped into better light. “Your dad used to say that when we were little.”

  “He did.”

  “Doesn’t anymore, though. Not since you left.” He spoke softly. “Do what they want, you’ll be okay.”

  “You believe that?” Angel stepped closer. “You’re all in, Joe-Joe. You’re their puppet now.”

  He shook his head. “Everyone starts somewhere. You don’t know just how good a guy I am.”

  “What do you mean?”

  A pair of handcuffs dangled from his fingers. “Give me your hands.”

  “Through the bars?”

  Joe-Joe nodded. “So I can open the door with no surprise attack. I know you do that karate shit.”

  Angel poked her hands just outside the pen, leaving one bar in-between them. He secured the cuffs to each wrist, just tight enough not to have wiggle room.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just relax.” Joe-Joe used a key from a ring to open the cage door. Once inside, he just stood there. “I want to enjoy this. There’s only one first time.”

  Her head turned over her shoulder. “Does my mom know you’re in here? That you’re doing this?”

  “Your mom sent me to move you to a new location.”

  “By yourself?”

  “No. I got a couple of guys going to help, but I told them to give me about a half-hour.” He placed his gun down, far out of reach. “I thought we’d start procreating now.”

  He crept up behind her, running his hand down her back. She twisted around and pushed herself against the iron bars. “You’re going to rape me?”

  “Don’t call it that, Blondo. We’re going to make a baby.”

  “No. No, we’re not.”

  Joe-Joe pulled her shirt up, revealing the curves of her waist, exposing the small of her back. She pivoted left and right, then kicked at him, but he blocked her legs easily. “Whoa, girl. You’re going to wear yourself out. It’s gonna happen. Whether it’s good or bad is up to you.”

  “Is this how you want it? While I fight you? I thought you love me?”

  “I love you enough to keep your precious Mark alive.”

  She hurt her arms and back trying to twist around. “You what?”

  “I just came from seeing him.”

  Growing up with Joe-Joe made her an expert on when he told the truth. She gained hope. “Where?”

  “You do this… willingly. And I let him go.”

  “Is he at your house? I won’t do this until you give me proof.”

  “He’s not at my house. I wouldn’t be that stupid. He’s in the cage. Bobby’s cage.” He spooned her, roughly sliding his hands up to her chest, dislodging her bra. His fingers moved around her body. “I’ve dreamed about this.”

  “I hate you.” She felt his hands drop to unbutton her jeans. Her zipper released. He tugged until they were below her knees. “We grew up together. We’ve seen each other’s best moments—our worst. We’ve laughed and cried together. How can you destroy…”

  “Lies!” he yelled. “You just never gave us a chance.”

  “You’re wrong. I gave us a chance in our teens, you remember, and I didn’t feel the same. You can’t blame me for that.” His hand came up between her legs, drawing his fingers over her underwear. “Joe-Joe, no… don’t. This is too awkward of a position. Let me lay down.”

  “Shut up, we’ll do fine.”

  She could feel the inevitability. “Remember when I rode you on my bike to the hospital when that snake bit you.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  Her underwear fell to her jeans. She was exposed. “Is this how you want me to see you? As my rapist?”

  A blow to her head knocked her against the bars. While recovering from the dizziness, she heard his belt buckle jingling. The crossbar wouldn’t allow her to slide down to sit, but she crouched on weak knees.

  He whispered in her ear, “If it’s any consolation, it’s not going to take long.”

  Angel frantically attempted to angle her backside away. Her body heaved, and tears fell. She hung against the bars, fully exposed. She barely had the strength to kick out. “Go to hell. I hate you.”

  “You’ll get over it.”
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  The four-foot high crossbar kept her from sliding down to the ground, but she hung there without the support of her legs. She closed her eyes as he pulled her up at the waist so as to rest on her knees while she faced the bars, allowing him access from behind. One hand pushed the side of her face against the bars as the other groped her chest. “I’m going to kill you, Joe-Joe. I promise you.”

  His fingers worked their way into her, but they retreated just as fast. Joe-Joe was having some kind of trouble. He seemed to be talking to himself, whispering. “Why? Come on.”

  “You break my heart.”

  Joe-Joe used both his hands to grab at his crotch, rubbing it on her backside. He attempted to force it in, but she felt nothing. His body impotently lurched her forward.

  “Damn it.” He backed away, looking down. “C’mon!”

  The issue was evident. “You can’t, because deep down, you know it’s wrong.”

  “You did this. You just couldn’t…” He backed away, pulling up his pants, adjusting his belt buckle. “You’re such a bitch.”

  “That’s a sign, Joe-Joe. That’s a good thing.”

  “It’s not a good thing!” He took the gun, holding it like a fragile antique.

  “Joe-Joe, let’s talk this out. Nothing has to be solved in one day. I’m not going anywhere.” She kept her vision on the gun.

  He pointed it toward her without much of an aim. “The family thinks I’m stupid. I know that. But I thought with you… you were my world. Without you, I’m just a redneck.”

  “That’s not true. It’s in your head. It’s time you make a stand.”

  “Stop it, Angel.” He swayed in place, staring at the floor.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

  He hesitated, but caved to her request. “I found one of Bobby’s poems in the trash one day. I kept it and read it a lot.”

  “What poem?”

  “I don’t know. Some sappy, girl shit. A line said an adventurer has no idea the agony of a stationary soul, nor the contentment. It took me a while to understand. It meant something to me.”

  “Help me understand.”