Only By Moonlight (18 page)

The desperate sound of his voice brought
LaShaun up short as she started down the hallway. She couldn’t risk
taking too much longer to retrieve a rosary Monmon Odette had worn
for decades. The silver cross had been passed down for at least
four generations. Power came from such a holy symbol.

“No time,” LaShaun said as she hurried to the
front door. Instead she whispered a prayer her mysterious childhood
mentor Jean Paul taught her. “Angel of God, my Guardian dear, to
whom God's love commits me here, ever this night be at my side, to
light and guard, to rule and guide. Amen.”

When LaShaun opened the front door Greg took
two steps back. He pulled the girl by the arm to keep her close. In
the light of the porch the girl’s skin looked pinched and pasty.
Greg’s gaze slid sideways at his companion and then back to
LaShaun.

“Good evening. Hope everything is okay.”
LaShaun spoke in a calm tone as she unlocked the storm door
separating them and pushed it open.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” Greg
faltered as though trying to gather his thoughts. He looked around
him as though just realizing he’d traveled to her house. “You
alone?”

“Yes.” LaShaun looked to the girl for some
sign. “Hi, what’s your name?”

“Jenna, but my friends call me Jen. It’s
getting late, and I should go home,” the girl said in a shaky
voice.

Greg snapped back to the present. “I thought
you wanted to be with me. We’re having fun. Didn’t you like the
party we went to?”

“My mother doesn’t know I snuck out. She’ll
be worried,” Jenna said. She sniffed, and her eyes pleaded with
LaShaun for help. “There was a fight, and those guys were a lot
older than us and...”

In an instant the girl’s voice faded. Images
flashed into LaShaun’s head, a story of what brought them to her
house. Jenna foolishly allowed her teenage crush to blind her.
Convinced that everyone was wrong about him, she’d snuck out of her
house to be with Greg. And this wasn’t the first time. LaShaun had
to prevent this youthful mistake from being fatal.

“Jenna is right. It’s really late, and I’ll
bet she needs to get up early for church in the morning,” LaShaun
said.

Jenna nodded quickly. “Yes, ma’am. I sing in
the choir. I have a solo tomorrow.” Tears slid down her face. “I
really need to go home.”

“Shut up about church. I told you that’s a
bunch of bullshit they’re feeding you. My parents go to church and
look at them. Dad screws anything that moves. All the time he’s
faking the all American family man act.” Greg gave a throaty laugh.
“I can show you what’s real.”

“What does that mean, Greg?” LaShaun watched
for any sign he might lift the knife. She’d try to get between him
and Jenna if necessary.

“Turn the other cheek? Love your enemy? Yeah,
right. Only if you want to be somebody else’s bitch.” Greg spat as
though just talking about the scriptures fouled his mouth. “If
you’ve got brains you take control.”

LaShaun looked at him closely. His speech
wasn’t original. Someone had been feeding Greg a twisted doctrine.
Teenagers drifting in life, feeling isolated and rejected would
grab at some form of philosophy to belong. Cults had been born that
way for centuries.

“How exactly do you get control in a world
that’s out of control?” LaShaun calculated that staying still might
keep the girl safe for a little longer.

Greg’s eyes narrowed as he smiled at LaShaun.
“We have a plan. You should join up with us. We’re going to rock
the foundations of the world one day. But things take time. I’m one
of the stronger ones. I’m going to have a lot of kids, and they’ll
rule one day.”

“You’re establishing a dynasty then.” LaShaun
felt a prickle along her arms. Greg believed what he was saying,
and she knew he wasn’t alone in his thinking.

“Yes.” Greg rubbed the knife against his
thigh as he stared at LaShaun. “With your voodoo skills we could do
some damage, make faster progress. I’d even give you a baby or two.
Yeah, my women will give birth to a master generation.”

Jenna tried to pull away from him. That’s
disgusting. She’s old enough to be your mother.”

“Shut the hell up. You’re nothing special.
Just because your daddy has a little money, so fucking what? The
kids at school make fun of you all the time. Your family is only a
step up from trailer trash,” Greg said and laughed.

“No!” Jenna covered her ears.

LaShaun sensed that Greg had touched on
Jenna’s weak spot. The girl had deep insecurities about her family
background. No doubt the privileged kids at their expensive private
school let everyone know who was “in” and who was “out”.

Greg pulled her close and spoke in her ear.
“Your daddy is vice president of nothing at a company nobody cares
about. All I wanted was to sample that tight little pussy, and you
gave it up fast. Didn’t you?”

“No, no,” Jenna cried. The heartbreak dripped
from her quivering lips. “Why are you saying these things?”

“Because it’s true,” Greg shot back.

LaShaun heard the keening sound of sirens,
but Greg hadn’t noticed yet. He was whispering insults into Jenna’s
ears until the girl seemed about to collapse. “Greg, you need to
put down the knife and let her go. I’ll take her home.”

“Hell no. We’re going to party. I feel like a
threesome tonight. Right, Jen? Just like with me, you and Elliot
that time.” Greg laughed when Jenna responded with a wail.

“I never, I never did,” she sobbed.

“Oh yes you most certainly did, babe. I’ve
got the cell phone pictures to prove it.” Greg cackled. He stopped
laughing and tilted his head to one side. “What’s that sound?”

“Listen to me, Greg. Deputies are on the way
here. Put down the knife so nobody gets hurt,” LaShaun said slow as
calmly as she could.

“Sneaky bitch, huh? You were in there calling
the cops. Not that it matters. They can’t touch me.” Greg seemed to
relax instead of becoming nervous.

“Let Jen come stand by me.”

Greg pulled Jenna tightly against his body
making her whimper. “You still don’t get it, do you? We’re
rulers.

“Dear Lord in Heaven, loose the evil binding
his mind. Pull the demon’s veil from his eyes so that he may see
clearly,” LaShaun prayed, her words barely audible.

“That won’t...” Greg blinked rapidly for
several seconds as though waking up from a hypnotic trance. He
looked around. “My... my head hurts.”

The screech of the sirens sliced through the
night getting louder. Flashing blue lights flashed through the
trees as headlights swung down Rousselle Lane. The first cruiser
turned onto LaShaun’s long driveway seconds later.

“Just let Jenna come over here to me, Greg.
We’ll get you some help.” LaShaun glanced over to see Chase step
carefully out of his official car. She held up a hand hoping he’d
give her time to talk Greg down.

Greg followed her gaze. “They should leave me
the alone.”

“I’ll call your mother, and then we can all
sit down to talk,” LaShaun said. She deliberately didn’t mention
his father since Greg seemed to have a lot of anger toward him.

“She’s here?” Greg sounded, and for a second
looked like a little boy who’d wandered away from his mother. He
half turned as though looking for her.

“Not yet, but we can get her here fast.”
LaShaun could feel the adrenalin of the growing number of law
enforcement professionals arriving. The night air crackled with
tension. Her stomach dropped when Greg’s expression changed
again.

“You’re lying, bitch. You called them to stop
us, but you’re too late.” He jerked Jenna with him while backing
away.

“You don’t wanna do that, Greg,” Chase said,
his voice made more menacing by the loud speaker atop his
cruiser.

“Of course I want to, you dumb fuck. You
think I’d be here otherwise?” Greg shouted back.

“You came to talk to me for a reason,”
LaShaun said quickly to buy time. Waves of anxiety and the need for
action came to her from Chase, but also from the other five
officers in the dark.

“I thought you would understand. Don’t
pretend you’re my friend now. I know about you. Everybody knows.”
Greg twisted around. “Hey, I see you out there.”

“Greg, listen to me.” LaShaun mustered the
authority of a maternal authority figure into her voice. “Put down
the knife. Jenna is not worth going to jail for, right? You said so
a minute ago.”

“Greg...” Chase barked.

“Give us a minute. Please,” LaShaun yelled
back at Chase. “Those deputies will shoot, Greg. There’s no need
for that. I do understand.”

His face softened into a look of tortured
despair. “I don’t want to be damned, but my life is already a kind
of living hell.”

“What does that mean, Greg? Put down the
knife and let Jen go home. Then you can tell me about these people
who got you into something bad,” LaShaun replied holding her hand
out. “You need to give me the knife.”

“No, LaShaun! Back away from him,” Chase
called out. He was about to say more when M.J. stepped up and spoke
to him. He hesitated, but after a few beats handed her the
handset.

“Son, we’re willing to listen. You need to
drop that weapon so this can end peacefully. I know that’s what you
want. It’s what we all want.” M.J. spoke in a reasonable tone.

LaShaun still held out her hand. “C’mon,
Greg. Let’s call it a night and talk without all this drama,
huh?”

Greg looked at her hand, his lips quivering.
When Greg inched two steps closer to LaShaun, he stretched out his
arm and extended the knife to her. When he took another step, so
did LaShaun.

“Give it to me handle first.” LaShaun stopped
moving closer to him. Something shifted in his expression. “Okay,
put it down on the floor instead. Move slowly.”

“Yeah,” Greg said still gazing at LaShaun. He
bent forward and down, taking Jenna with him.

“Let go of me you freak,” Jenna screamed. She
jerked out of his grasp and scrambled away to jump off the
porch.

Greg howled out his rage. “I’m going to
finish off that bitch,” Greg screeched.

He slashed LaShaun’s forearm with the knife.
She felt no pain, only the warm flow of blood. When she kicked a
leg from under him, and Greg sank to one knee. Before he could
recover, LaShaun stomped on the arm holding the knife. His
expression registered shock and confusion. The world slowed down
like a stop action video as deputies charged forward with Chase in
the lead. LaShaun started to yell at them not to shoot, but Chase
moved fast to protect her. M.J. made it to the porch at almost the
same second as Chase. She pulled LaShaun down to the ground. The
scene blurred into chaos with shouts, curses and flashing
lights.

Gunshot cracked through the voices and Greg
fell silent. Everyone froze in place as if someone had hit the
pause button on a horror movie. After a few seconds the spell
broke, and the cops sprang into action again. Jenna wailed in
terror as she crouched on the ground behind a gardenia bush.

“Stupid little shit,” Chase grumbled.

LaShaun woke from her daze to stare at him.
What she saw frightened her more than the out of control teenager
with a knife. Chase had no trace of sympathy for the young man
bleeding on the porch floor. She watched as he stepped back to let
his fellow law officers follow procedure.

“You need to give me your gun so it can be
examined,” M.J. said in a muted tone. She gazed at Chase with a
troubled frown.

“It was a clean shoot. He went after two
hostages with a knife. He even wounded one,” Chase said as though
practicing his speech for the interview to come, since any police
shooting required a review.

“Yeah,” M.J. replied and then turned to
LaShaun. “I’ve got paramedics on the way. Deputy Ricard, find
something to wrap LaShaun’s wound.”

Chase seemed to notice LaShaun for the first
time. “I’ll do it. C’mon, baby. You’re gonna be okay. At least that
kid won’t be taking out anymore victims.”

“Chase,” LaShaun said sharply. She glanced at
M.J. who shook her head slowly.

“I’m just telling the truth. Now let’s make
sure you don’t bleed out before the medical cavalry gets here,” he
replied without bothering to look at Greg or ask if he was alive.
He led LaShaun into the house while whistling a jaunty Cajun
tune.

Chapter 11

The next two days sped by LaShaun in a
dizzying whirl of answering questions from deputies, and dodging
questions from reporters. Greg was alive, but just barely. Chase
had taken aim with deadly precision, a single shot to the head.
Greg lay in a coma. He’d been transferred from the small hospital
outside Beau Chene to a trauma center in Baton Rouge once he’d been
stabilized. By the end of the week, LaShaun simply wanted the world
to stay out of her way. Savannah came over for lunch Thursday
morning. They didn’t dare try to eat out, not with all the
attention. Cameras clicked like crazy when LaShaun showed up
anywhere. A reporter would pop out of nowhere like a magician.

By twelve thirty, LaShaun had homemade
chicken salad, coleslaw and raspberry lemonade set up on her back
porch. The stitches and thick bandage on her left arm didn’t keep
her from regular tasks. The early March day had turned warm, though
a breeze kept it cool. Savannah drove around to the back of the
house and blew her horn as a greeting. She climbed out of her
Toyota Rav4. She kept talking on her cell phone as she pushed the
SUV door shut with a foot.

“Hey, girl,” LaShaun called to her.

“Okay. I’ll call you next week. Bye.”
Savannah ended the call and dropped the phone in her jacket pocket.
She heaved a sigh as she climbed the back steps and took a seat.
“Damn, can’t I just have lunch without anybody getting sued,
disinherited, or arrested?”

“Don’t complain. If folks clean up their
messes, you wouldn’t get paid,” LaShaun retorted.