Bitter Root (17 page)

“Maybe,” Adi said.

“Want to talk about it? It usually helps,” Bertie said.

Adi looked at Bertie and T. The two people who meant the most to
her in her life. She’d already told Bertie about J.B. and the things she’d
done, but not T. He knew nothing about her past.

“Maybe later.”

“I think it’s about time for me to go. Y’all sure put on a good
feast tonight. Thanks for the party,” T said.

“You don’t have to go, T,” Adi said.

“I know that, but I think it’s a good time. I’ll see you in the
morning.”

“Good night, T’sugar,” Bertie said.

“Night, Mama Sass. Night, Adi.”

“Night, T.” Adi felt like she’d chased him off by being moody,
but was grateful she’d have time to talk with Bertie.

She waited while T loaded his cooler in the car and drove off.

“I’m all mixed up, Bertie. I don’t know if I should tell Griffith
everything or hide out until she leaves town. She’s got me so confused.”

“Hm, confused how?”

“I don’t know. I mean, when I’m with her, all I can think about
is holding her. My heart says trust her, but my head says stay away. Then she
kisses me, or I kiss her, and I forget to be careful. It’s all going to slip
out if I keep spending time with her.”

“And that’s a bad thing? You don’t trust her enough yet?”

“How can I? There’s so much at risk, and her job is to tell
stories. If she prints my story before I’ve figured out what to do, we’ll be in
all kinds of danger. I can run again. I know I can keep him from finding me,
but the Pot and you and T, y’all can’t disappear so easily. I can’t let her
write about my past at all.”

“I understand your fear, baby, but I also know you got to make a
stand at some point. You can’t just live your life ready to disappear. What you
going to have when I’m gone? How’re you going to build a life when you so
scared you can’t connect to anyone? You seem a bit partial to that reporter.
Seems like maybe she’s somebody you might want to build something with. You
going to deny yourself that? With her or with anyone? To keep a secret for an
evil man?”

“I’m not keeping it for him, Bertie. I’m trying to keep all of us
safe. If he comes after us, he won’t stop till we have nothing left. And I
don’t want to go to jail, either.”

“But don’t you get it? In keeping us safe, you’re freeing him to
do more harm. Plus, you’re keeping yourself trapped. You’re closing yourself
off from life because of that secret. That means every day you let him walk
free is a day less you have for living? How many days are you willing to give
up for that man? You’re already in a kind of jail, child.”

“I don’t know. I’m scared and I hate him. I don’t want him to
ever touch my life. Not mine or yours or anyone’s, but I can’t keep him out
once he knows where I am. He’s like a hurricane, Bertie. He’s relentless. I
can’t do it. I can’t unleash that hate on all of us. I just can’t.”

“Thing is, all of that hate is already loose. You won’t be
unleashing a thing, just giving it a different direction. Maybe we can direct
it right into prison, if we can get some help. I want you to see if Griffith
can help us put that man away. Then your life can truly begin.”

“Could that work? Do you really think so?”
Can I trust her enough to find
out?

“You’ll never know unless you ask. It’s going to take trust. I
don’t know if you’re ready for that or not. I get a sense that you are either
going to take that step and let it out, or you’re going to leave me. I fear you
running off. You mean the world to me, Adi. You’re my own child as far as I’m
concerned, and I can’t take losing you.”

Adi shook as the truth of Bertie’s words sunk in. She’d made
herself believe that running would be the only way to keep Bertie safe, but it
would hurt. Not only her, but Bertie and T as well. They mattered to her; their
pain mattered.

She grasped her head in her hands, trying to quell the pounding
that erupted behind her eyes.
Why
did this have to happen? Why couldn’t I just stay hidden and safe?

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Bertie. All I’m sure of is
that I have to keep everyone safe.”

“There’s no telling what’s ahead, Dink. Truth be told, even if
you keep quiet, we aren’t none of us safer than if you don’t. He’s out there,
and if he wants to find you bad enough, he will.”

“If I go away, at least you and T will be safe.”

“No, child, there’s no guarantee of that. Plus we’ll be worried
about you. Running ain’t a solution. It’s just stretching the problem out more
and more. You know what happens when you stretch something too far. It snaps
back and bites you. Don’t be stretching this secret more than you have. It’s
past time for you to deal with it. The best place to do that is right here where
you have family that loves you and can support you.”

“You don’t know what he’d do if he found me, Bertie. There’s
nothing that could keep me safe.”

“I don’t believe that. There has to be a way to keep us all safe,
if we work together. I won’t be losing you, Dink. I won’t let that happen,
hear?”

“I hear ya. Let me think on it some. I promise I won’t do
anything without talking it out with you,” Adi said.

“Well, that’s gotta be good enough, huh? All right then, I’m
going to put my tired bones to bed. Be sure you lock up when you come in,”
Bertie said.

“I will.”

Adi sat back in the swing and willed her mind to stop racing. The
rapid-fire sequence of things that could happen just wouldn’t stop. What if
J.B. came after her? How would she possibly be able to stand up to him? Would
he even show himself? He could send someone to take her out without even
getting his hands dirty. Maybe he was dead? What if one of his international
partners took him out of the delivery chain? She didn’t even know at this
point. She needed information so she could think of a way out of this.

Griffith was her best possible resource when it came to finding
out about J.B. If she talked to her openly and asked for her help she had to
believe Griffith would help.
Why
do I believe that?

She called the number she had for Griffith and paced while she
waited for an answer.

“Hello?” Griffith sounded like she’d been sleeping.

“Hi, it’s me. I need to ask you something,” Adi said.

“Okay, I’m all ears.”

“If…I mean what would you do if I told you something that could
hurt me, could hurt all of us?”

“I guess that depends on what it is and what kind of hurt we’re
talking about,” she said.

“Serious hurt, the kind you don’t walk away from.”

“I’m not sure. I mean, I won’t know how I’ll react without the
facts. I can say I would do my best to keep anyone from getting hurt. Is this
about your past?”

Adi swallowed.
Once
I say it, I can’t take it back. It will be out there and whatever happens will
happen.

“Yes.” It wasn’t more than a whisper, and its passage through her
lips left her feeling gutted. Raw and vulnerable.

“And you’re afraid whatever it is can hurt you or those you
love?” Griffith said. Her tone was very gentle.

I hope
that’s a good sign.
“Yes.”

“How can I help?”

The flood of relief that rushed through her made Adi feel weaker
than a newborn foal. She leaned back against the wall and let the cool wood
hold her up.

“I’m not exactly sure; it’s all so complicated. There’s things
I’ve done. Things I’ll always have to live with, but I want to tell you. I just
have to know I can trust you to handle this carefully.”

“You can trust me, Adi. I promise. Tell me.”

“Not tonight, not on the phone,” Adi said.

“When, then? Do you want me to come back to Bertie’s?”

“No, not tonight. Can we sit down and talk it out on Monday? I’m
going to be slammed at the restaurant through the weekend. That always happens
when we’ve been closed,” Adi said.

The silence on Griffith’s end of the line was deafening.
Did I blow this? Is she still with
me?

“Okay, sure. Monday it is. I’m going to write the article for
Dawn tonight. Your past doesn’t really play a part in your cooking. Is there
anything in what you’re going to tell me that I need to know before I send that
to her?”

Was there?
Did her childhood have anything to do with now? Would it reflect badly on the
Pot?

“I don’t think so. It’s all from so long ago,” she said.

“Fine then. I’ll write my piece, and on Monday we can sort out
your past. I’ll do everything in my power to help, Adi. I promise.”

“Okay,” Adi said.

“And, Adi? Thank you,” she said.

Adi disconnected the call.
It’s
done now. There’s no going back. I hope to hell I haven’t made a mistake. Don’t
you let me down, Griffith.

Griffith tossed her phone onto the side table. She was
finally going to hear Adi’s story. From what she’d said it could be a doozy.
She didn’t seem like the type to exaggerate, and if she was this frightened, it
must be big.
I have to
know as much as possible before I write Dawn’s piece. If whatever she’s hiding
is so terrible,
Epicuriosity
could be caught in the backlash.
She needed facts; that was how she
operated. If she didn’t have all the facts, the ones she wrote lost their
credibility.
I need Adi
to understand that
. She flashed back to all the bitter encounters
after the Moore affair, and the fair accusations that she’d failed to check her
facts. That she hadn’t done her job
.

Adi’s going
to tell me on Monday. If I spend the weekend doing a bit of research, I’ll feel
better about the whole thing. Why do I feel like I lied to her? When has it
ever bothered me to hash out a story?
Her gut was screaming at her
to dig, to get to the bottom of things.
Why
am I even hesitating? Tomorrow, I start looking for young Adi.

She rose early the next morning, knowing she had a bit of a drive
to get to Dulac. She had checked her maps app and figured it would take about
two hours to make the trip. She also checked where to find the Parish records
office and the local policing agency, located in Houma.

She still felt uneasy about it, but she couldn’t set it aside.
She had to give due diligence to the story.
It’s
just groundwork. Adi will flesh out the story personally on Monday. I’m doing
the right thing
.

No matter what she told herself, it felt like a rotten thing to
do, invasive and underhanded. Why hadn’t she just told Adi her intentions?
Something had held her back last night, knowing that Adi wouldn’t like her
plans.
My mother always
said if you can’t tell someone you’re doing something, you shouldn’t be doing
it. I should have told her.
She sighed and kept getting ready.
Sometimes real journalism meant taking a road less desirable to get the story.
If she did her own research, she’d know for certain Adi hadn’t held anything
back.

She loaded up her tablet and a couple of bottles of water for the
drive. She would be in Houma before lunch and could grab a bite to eat there.
She’d go to the Parish office and scan some records before the final drive down
to the coast.

The drive was uneventful, mostly farmland broken by the
occasional patch of swamp. When she reached Houma, she had little trouble
finding the courthouse. It was a massive limestone building in Greek revival
style, with a distinctly 1950s feel.
I
hope this beast is air-conditioned
. She climbed the narrow steps to
the massive doors and walked in to start her explorations. The man at the
information desk sported a checked vest and a bowtie.

“Hey, there. How can I help you?” he said.

“Hello. I’m doing research for an article I’m writing. Where
would I find population and demographic records for Dulac, Louisiana?” she
said.

“Dulac?” He frowned. “I don’t know that place, but hold on.”

He scrolled through pages on his computer screen, his frown
deepening. Finally, he stopped and smiled.

“Got it. That’s one of the tiny communities on the estuary. Not
much of record in the database, but there are some basic things listed. Want me
to print out what I’ve got?”

“Thank you, that’d be great.”

The printout he handed her was thin, records for Dulac sparse.
The population had always been small, and after the hurricanes of the last
decade, it had dropped by over forty percent. The median income was well below
the state median, and it seemed to have a high percentage of Native American
residents.

After an hour of searching records, she gave in.
This
isn’t telling me anything. I need
more
. Something that would point her in the right direction. She
would eat and then give the police department a try. The Houma Police
Department covered the area of Dulac as well as other small cities near the
coast. Hopefully, they would have some information that would help.

She found a small café near the courthouse for brunch. The food
was good, but not close to Adi’s. She missed the company and banter she’d been
enjoying with her New Iberia friends. That’s what they’d become, her friends.
If you’d asked her a week ago if she made friends easily, she’d have said no,
but Adi and the others made it effortless.
It’s
like everyone is their friend until they aren’t. I hope this trip doesn’t
change how they feel about me. Especially Adi.
She knew she had to
pursue the root of the story, but she needed to do so in a way that kept
everyone at the Pot safe. She couldn’t draw attention to what she was doing. If
anything she did led to her friends being harmed, she’d never forgive herself.
I won’t let that happen.

After settling her bill, she headed to the police department,
still conflicted about what she was doing. When she arrived, the place was
bustling with activity. She went to the information officer and asked where she
should go to read old missing persons reports. He was none too happy when she
pulled out her press credentials and he had to take her to the records room.
Freedom of the press had its benefits.