Out of the Dark (6 page)

“Luke, what do you think?”

“That you have a beautiful daughter,” he said, and then picked up the photo with the best view of the couple’s faces. “And I need to make plane reservations for San Francisco.”

Sam clutched Luke’s arm. “Find her, my friend. I need this in my life before I die.”

“I’ll find her,” Luke said, but he didn’t voice the other part of what he was thinking. He had to find her or live the rest of his life haunted by her face.

A short while later they were all gone, leaving Sam with more hope for the future of his family than he’d had in years.

R
ain peppered the windows of the bus near Jade’s face, blurring her view of the passing countryside. She was tired of the travel, but afraid to go back to sleep for fear she would have another nightmare. Besides that, Raphael didn’t look well. He’d suffered from motion sickness nearly the entire trip, and she was getting worried. His skin was pale and clammy, and she’d begun to notice for the first time that his face looked drawn—even thin. She always expected him to look after her, while she rarely considered that he might need care. He was her rock—the strong one who never complained. Guilt shafted through her as she leaned over and laid the back of her hand against his forehead. He didn’t have a fever, but his eyelids had a bluish, almost translucent appearance. As soon as they reached New Orleans and got settled, she would find the health department and make him get a checkup.

Satisfied with her decision, she looked back out the window, only to realize they were coming into the outskirts of another city. Then she saw the city limits sign and started to smile.

New Orleans.

They were almost there. She grabbed Raphael’s arm and shook him awake.

“Rafie…wake up. We’re here.”

Raphael stifled a groan as he sat up. He combed his fingers through his hair and rolled his head on his neck, trying to stretch out the kinks.

“I’d give a lot for a shower and a bed,” he said. “How about you?”

Happy that he seemed more like his old self, Jade forgot about health departments and doctors and threw her arms around his neck.

“It’s raining, Rafie.”

He threaded his hands through her hair and then curled them into fists, as if trying to draw energy from her vivacity. Then he grinned, knowing she was waiting for him to finish what she’d started.

“And rain washes our troubles down the drain.”

“Yes, yes, yes. All our troubles. Down the drain.”

A short while later they were at the bus station retrieving their bags, along with one long cardboard box containing a few small paintings and what was left of Jade’s art supplies. But walking to search for lodgings in this weather with all their belongings would have been difficult if not impossible. Either they stayed in the bus station until the rain let up, or splurged and took a cab.

Jade took one look at the weariness on Raphael’s face and suggested getting a cab. To her surprise, he didn’t argue.

A short while later they were loaded up and on their way to a hotel suggested by the janitor at the bus station. Raphael was only vaguely aware of the water running wildly through the streets and the sodden streamers of Spanish moss hanging far too low to the ground. Instead his gaze was centered on Jade, who was staring out the window. Her nervous, almost fearful, expression was focused on the faces of the people huddled in doorways and standing beneath porches.

But Raphael knew it wasn’t curiosity that made her look.

No matter where they went or how far they’d come, she was convinced that one day she would come face to face with one of the abusers from her childhood. He knew the odds of that happening were small, yet he had long ago accepted that if it did, he would have to kill the man. She would expect it of him as he expected it of himself.

A few moments later, the cab driver stopped at a red light, then looked up into the rearview mirror and caught Raphael’s gaze.

“You people just visitin’ or you plannin’ to stay?”

“If everything works out, we’ll probably stay,” Raphael said.

The old man nodded, then scratched his head before glancing back toward the light. It was still on red. He looked up again.

“Son…you and your lady look like real nice people, and if you don’t mind my suggestion, you might want to try a different hotel.”

Suddenly Jade was in on the conversation. She grabbed hold of the back seat and leaned forward.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

The old man glanced over his shoulder, his dark eyes reading something on Jade’s face that he seemed to recognize.

“Ain’t none of my business,” he said, in a slow, southern-sweet voice, “but the place we headed to does business at night that you might not want to be ’round, if you know what I mean.”

Raphael put a hand in the middle of Jade’s back. It was just a touch, but enough to settle her anxiety. Although their life had been anything but sheltered, they’d never sought out the lifestyle of the people who lived on the streets—just tried to survive it.

“We appreciate your opinion,” Raphael said. “If you have a better suggestion, we’re listening.”

For the first time, the driver smiled, wreathing his cafe au lait face with time-weathered wrinkles.

“My sista Clarice has a real nice place down in the Quarter. It ain’t nothin’ fancy, but it’s clean, and it’s safer than where you was plannin’ to go.”

“We’d be obliged,” Raphael said. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Clarence Deauxville. Clarice is my twin sista.”

Raphael nodded. “I’m called Rafe,” he said. “This is Jade.”

Clarence tilted his head. “You up to tryin’ out my suggestion?”

Raphael glanced at Jade, who nodded nervously. “Yes,” he said.

Clarence’s smile widened. The light turned green, and he accelerated through the intersection, taking a right at the next street as he spoke over his shoulder.

“Only take a few more minutes and we’ll have you outa’ dis here rain.”

Jade frowned at the cabdriver, then leaned against Raphael. There was nothing in her background that told her it was safe to trust the kindness of strangers. But Raphael was holding her close and she was sorely sick of travel. The thought of a bed—any bed—was too enticing to ignore.

“It will be all right,” Raphael said softly. “Besides, if it’s not, we can always go somewhere else.”

She relaxed, but only slightly. It wasn’t until they arrived at their new destination that her nervousness began to subside.

The old two-story house was long and narrow, running north to south on the matching lot and bounded on three sides with a tall iron fence. Only the front of the house was open to the street, and the tiny patch of green grass that led to the front porch was standing in water.

“Real sorry about the weather,” Clarence said, as Raphael counted out the money owed. “You two hurry on up to the porch. I’ll get your bags.”

Still, Jade hesitated, suspicious that the man was planning to abandon them there and drive off with their things.

Again Clarence seemed to understand what she was unable to say.

“It’s all right, missy,” he said softly. “Ain’t everybody tryin’ to hurt you. I’ll bring your things right up. You can count on that.”

Jade hesitated, then sighed. “Yes, well, all right and…thank you.”

He nodded solemnly. “You welcome, missy.”

There was a Welcome sign hanging on the front door. Raphael grabbed the doorknob and turned it, pushing Jade in front of him as they walked inside. What had once been a formal sitting room had been turned into a lobby/reception area. The furnishings were dark and ancient, but there was a clean citrus scent in the air that Jade recognized as orange oil. From the shine on the woodwork, she could tell that someone was religious about its care.

Within seconds, a small, skinny black woman appeared from the hallway. It was evident that Clarence the cabdriver had been truthful about one thing: Clarice was definitely his twin. She smiled cordially until she realized Clarence was with them. At that point, her expression lightened even further as she gave him a hug. The familial welcome relaxed Jade even more.

After a quick word with her brother, the elderly woman turned to her guests.

“Welcome to the Forsythia Inn,” she said, eyeing the bedraggled pair with an appraising look. “We need to get you settled in, then you come down to the dining room. Clarice has some hot gumbo that will fix you up just right.”

“Sounds good, but we need to settle a little business first,” Raphael said, then patted his pocket to make sure their money was safe. “How much per week?”

“You plannin’ to stay more than just a visit?” Clarice asked.

Jade nodded.

“Then how about two hundred dollars a week? That includes café au lait and beignets every morning, and my good cookin’ at night.”

It was a lot of money for people with no jobs, but it was a bargain and they knew it.

“We’ll take it,” Jade said.

Clarice handed them a key. “I’ve got rooms on the ground floor, but if this rain don’t let up, I’d hate to have you wake up in water. So…up the stairs, third door on your left.”

“Flood? The hotel might flood?” Jade asked.

Clarice shrugged. “Honey, the city is in flood warning already. This old hotel won’t be exempt. However, don’t you worry none. It’s lasted through a civil war, more floods than you can count, and a fair amount of hurricanes. This little thunderstorm will pass, just like they all do, and we’ll all go on livin’ our lives just like always. In the meantime, you hurry back down and I’ll have that gumbo ready and waiting.”

Raphael grabbed the bags, while Clarence dug an old luggage dolly out of a closet behind the front desk, loaded Jade’s box of artwork onto it, and followed them up the stairs.

The room was just like the lower level that they’d seen—furnished with out-of-date furniture, but clean as the proverbial whistle. The bed—an old four-poster with mosquito netting and a care-worn mauve duvet—took centerstage in the room.

“I see Clarice likes you,” Clarence said, as he unloaded the box.

Raphael turned around, uncertain what he getting at. “What do you mean?”

Clarence pointed at the bed. “She put you two in the honeymoon suite.”

“Why is it the honeymoon suite?” Jade asked.

“Got its own bath,” Clarence said, pointing toward a door on their right, then winked at her. “You’ll be just fine here.”

Jade ignored the man’s assumption that she and Raphael had a sexual relationship. It was something people always assumed about them, although it was the farthest thing from the truth. In fact, the truth of their bond was nothing anyone else could ever have understood.

Jade thrust her hand in her pocket and impulsively pulled out some money to pay him for hauling their box up the stairs.

“Thank you,” she said, as she handed him some bills.

Clarence held up his hand in gentle refusal. “Your man done paid me for the ride, missy. No need for more.”

Jade put the money back in her pocket and then nodded without knowing what else to say.

The old man was on his way out of the room when he stopped and turned around. An odd expression crossed his face, and it was as if his eyes suddenly lost their focus.

“You be goin’ home soon now,” he said. “Trust the big man. It will be okay.”

A shaft of panic sliced through Jade’s belly. She didn’t trust any men except Raphael.

“I’m already home,” she said, and stepped beneath the shelter of Raphael’s arms. “He is my home.”

Clarence shuddered just as Clarice entered with an armful of clean towels. She saw the look on her brother’s face and frowned.

“Stop that, you old fool! You gonna go and scare off my guests. Get on with you. Go find someone to drive around and don’t get yourself drowned now…you hear?”

Clarence blinked, then looked around in confusions.

“What you sayin’ to me, sista?”

“Go on now. It’s okay. You just slipped outa’ you-self…but you back now. I told you not to drown.”

He acknowledged her words with a smile, then glanced toward Jade before he left.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said softly, then left.

Jade shivered, then followed Clarice into the bathroom, where she was putting out the clean linens.

“Ma’am?”

“Honey, you just call me Clarice.”

“Yes, all right,” Jade said. “Uh…about your brother. What did you mean when you said he slipped out of himself?”

Afraid she was about to lose the only customers she’d had in weeks, Clarice tried to laugh off what had happened.

“Oh, that brother of mine fancies himself a seer.”

“A what?”

“He says he has visions, but don’t you worry yourself none. We don’t pay him no mind in our family. We all think Momma dropped him on his head when he was a baby.” Then she laughed, tickled at her own wit. “Hurry on down now. My gumbo is just what you need to set yourself right.”

She left quickly, leaving Jade and Raphael alone.

“Rafie?”

“What?”

“What do you think that man meant?”

“I don’t know, honey. But that gumbo sure sounds good. Let’s unpack later, okay?”

Jade let herself be sidetracked, but she couldn’t forget the look on that old man’s face. Why would he tell her she was going to go home? In her world, there was no such thing.

It was Luke’s second day in San Francisco. He’d located the organizer of the street fair, only to find out that the booth where Shelly Hudson had purchased Margaret’s picture had been reserved under the name Laurel Ann Hardy and paid for in cash. He’d laughed when the woman had read off the name. So Sam’s daughter had a sense of humor. The name she’d given the organizer was nothing more than a play on the name of the comedy team Laurel and Hardy. To make matters worse, the address that she’d given as her residence didn’t exist. He’d questioned the people who’d shared booths on either side of her but learned nothing that would help him in his search.