Peggy Holloway - Judith McCain 02 - Portrait on Wicker (2 page)

I decided to get a good night’s sleep and then decide what direction to take.

Drifting off to sleep right away, I had the nightmare for the first time in years. It was the nightmare that led me to Julia at age sixteen, the nightmare that sent Julia to the psychiatric hospital.

Knowing that Julia and I were the two
, three year olds being kidnapped in the dream made the nightmare worse and I woke up in a cold sweat. The bedside clock read 3:27a.m.

CHAPTER FOUR

After getting less than four hours sleep the night before, I felt like I was in a daze. I made coffee and then remembered that I had thrown out the milk the night before. Chicory coffee doesn’t taste the same without the boiled milk. I decided to skip it.

After showering and dressing, I got i
n the rental car and started toward Metairie, where I had lived with the Lessiters and later with Rosa, a fellow nightclub dancer.

During the sleepless night
, I had made up my mind to go to the Lessiter’s house and confront Mr. Lessiter. After stopping for coffee and beignets, I headed there.

I kept remi
nding myself that I was now a twenty seven year old grown woman, not the scared lost sixteen year old teenager, who had lived with the Lessiters, because she had no choice. My self-talk did no good. My heart was beating so fast I could hardly breathe.

The first thing I noticed when I drove up was a girl’s bike parked under the carport.
Then I saw a teenage girl sitting on the porch, in the swing.

She watched me as I got out of the ca
r. She looked furious. She was looking at me like she hated me.

“What the fuck
, are you back here for more lies? You going to tell me you going to help me again?

I realized she thought I was Julia.

“I’m her twin sister, Judith” I said as I came up the steps. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“What kind of shit you trying to pull?”

She was so cute with a long blond ponytail and blue eyes. She looked angry but underneath, scared. As a psychologist I had seen many teens like this and I can remember myself at this age trying to act tough.

Without another word
, I got out my wallet and showed her my driver’s license. She was looking at my hands. Being an artist, Julia always had some paint on her hands that she had been unable to get off, especially around her nails.

“I’m w
orried about my sister,” I said. “I flew into New Orleans last night from Houston to try and find her. I last saw her Christmas. When did you see her last?”

Now she really looked alarmed, “You’d better get away from her
e and I mean now. You have no idea what’s going on.”

On impulse, I reached my hand out to her
. “Come with me,” I said. “You don’t have to stay here. What is your name, by the way?”

“It’s Trudy, but I can’t come with you, they’ll find me.”

She glanced toward the window. I saw an old lady peering out. It was obviously Mrs. Lessiter. She looked like she had aged much more than eleven years.

She was screaming but making no sense.
Then she came out on the porch. She had a knife. She was ranting and raving and swinging the knife. If she hadn’t been so frail, she could have done some real damage.

Without even thinking I picked up Trudy and ran to the car.
I put her in the passenger seat and ran around to the driver’s side. Without bothering with a seat belt I floor-boarded the gas pedal.

The frightened little girl next to me suddenly came alive.
She looked over her shoulder and gave the old lady the finger while she whooped in a loud voice. Turning toward me, I noticed she was beautiful with the excitement in her eyes.

“She’s a crazy old bat.
I think her husband has driven her crazy. If I had to stay there much longer I’d be crazy too.

“
Thanks,” she said while putting out her hand for me to shake.

I didn’t even think about where I was going until Trudy asked.

I looked at my watch. It was 1:12 p.m. “Let’s get some lunch. What would you like?”

“Are you buying?”

I remembered when I was a teen in her situation and at the mercy of someone else. I too had to make sure someone else was fitting the bill before I ordered.

“I’m buying,” I said, “so anything you would like.”

“What are you going to want in return later? I don’t do women.”

In a way I wasn’t shocked but to hear it put so bluntly made me pause.
As a psychologist working with teens, I’ve learned that sometimes they will say things to shock me. But I didn’t think this was the case.

“Trudy we’ll talk later.
That’s all I want from you. I think we can help each other. Right now, let’s concentrate on food. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. If I can remember where it is, I know a place that serves the best hamburgers in New Orleans.”

“Is it the Swamp Room?”

I laughed. “Yes, that’s it. Do you know it?”

“I love it.
Take the next right.”

CHAPTER FIVE

I took Trudy back to Julia’s condo with me after watching her put away two of the large hamburgers at The Swamp Room. I was amazed. I could never finish one. She also ate fries and three cokes. She acted like she was starving to death.

When I finished showing her around and showed her where she would sleep, I suddenly realized we would need to go shopping for some clothes for her tomorrow.
For now she could wear something of Julia’s.

When she came out
, wearing a pair of Julia’s Pajamas, I busted out laughing. Julia and I wear a size six. Trudy must have worn a two. They swallowed her. She ended up wearing a tee shirt.

I had stopped on the way home to pick up some bare essentials and I made coffee with boiling milk
. We settled in on the back deck to talk.

For some reason, adolescents open up to me.
They say I make them feel safe. I was now especially glad for that. This is her story she told me in her own words.

I grew up in a small town in Georgia. It was called Roaming Hills. It was one of those places where everyone knows everyone else. We were poor. When I say poor I mean there were times when there was no food.

There were five of us children
. My mama did the best she could with just a third grade education. Her parents had been share croppers. They both died when my mom was sixteen and she took to the streets.

She did a little hooking until she started having so many kids
, then she took in laundry. I never knew who my dad was. Some John, I guess.

Last year I ran away and hitched all the way to New Orleans.
I know, I’m lucky to be alive, but I got a ride with a trucker a good part of the way.

I’m seventeen
years old but people tell me I look about twelve. When I got into New Orleans I lived on the street and slept in doorways. I stole food from the street carts. I think some of the venders knew, but felt sorry for me, and looked the other way.

When winter came I didn’t have a coat and I was freezing.
I thought it would be easy to steal a coat. Just go into a store, put one on and walk out. I didn’t know about the little magnetic tag on the inside. So I went into J.C. Penny’s and found a pretty jacket just my size.

I put it on and started out the door.
A loud ringing went off and suddenly I was arrested. After going before judge Renfroe, he told me I had to go live with Mr. and Mrs. Lessiter.

At first, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.
There was plenty of good food and I had a room all to myself. I went to school and did well. I started thinking I would be able to make a success of my life and for the first time I had a daddy.

It wasn’t until I had been there about six weeks that Mr. Lessite
r started coming into my room.

Here she stopped talking and sat staring out at the sky. I reached over and took her hand.

“You don’t have to tell me any more if you don’t want to.
I was a victim of Mr. Lessiter myself. I was lucky and got away. Later, I had some help.

“What I’m worried about is that Julia went after him for me.
She always said she owed me for helping her when we were both teenagers. I really thought she had given up on that, but I guess not. What did she do, just show up there?”

She looked at me with fear in her eyes.
“I think your sister is in major trouble. About ten days ago she came over and said she wanted to see Mr. Lessiter. I was sitting on the porch just like today. It’s my own private place. She drove up in the prettiest little red sports car.

“
When she saw me she said she was going to help me. That’s all she said and then she knocked on the door. When she came out she looked like she was going to cry. She got in her car and spun out like a bat out of hell.”

“I think it’s time to call my friend John Shepherd.
He’s local FBI. If he can’t help us then he’ll know who can. First I want to call Mimi, Mark and Tracy. Mimi is mine and Julia’s grandmother and Mark is my uncle. Tracy is his wife and also an FBI agent.”

“Wow, I think I got all that.
I’ll just hang out here while you do that. Is it okay if I look in that shed over there?”

After hesitating, I agreed and told her that it was Julia’s art studio.

The first person I called was John.

Right after he said hello and I identified myself he said, “Judith!
I saw Ben the other day and he said he still hasn’t convinced you to marry him. When you going to put that poor son-of-a-bitch out of his misery and marry him?”

That usually got a laugh out of me
, but not today.

“John, Julia is in trouble.
Can you help us?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at Julia’s condo. It looks like she hasn’t been here in awhile. She wrote me a strange letter and left me another one in some take out pasta…”

“I’ll be right over,” he said and hung up.

I couldn’t help but snicker. The first time I met John, he had been assigned to hypnotize me, to help me remember what happened when I was three years old. I was living with Rosa, a fellow exotic dancer, and now John’s wife. He had left a message on Rosa’s answering machine.

W
hen I called and identified myself he had said, “Don’t say another word. I’ll be right over.”

For him and Rosa I think it was love at first sight.
They married while Julia and I were at the trial for Mr. Reynolds.

Next I called Tracy
. “What’s happening, Judith?” she said. “What have you found?”

“I’m at her condo.
When I got here it looked like she hadn’t been here in awhile. I went to her studio and found a disturbing painting. It was mostly pained over with black paint but I can make out a man’s hand.

“Then when I was coming back up the walk to her condo, Jean saw me and thought I was Julia.
He was so relieved and said he has been checking here off and on for about ten days, that’s how long she’s been missing

“When I started cleaning out her refrigerator, I found a take out of spaghetti with a letter underneath in a baggie.
It said something about her paying back a debt to me.”

I felt someone watching me and turned around and saw Trudy, “I want to talk to you,” she said.

“Who is that?” Tracy asked.

“That’s Trudy.
I rescued her from the Lessiter’s today.”

“What?
You went over there? Judith you should have called John.”

“I did.
He’s on his way over.”

Trudy started nudging me with her elbow, “Hold on a minute Tracy.
This may be important. What?”

“That’s Mr. Lessiter’s hand.
I know his hand well.”

I tu
rned back to Tracy on the phone. “Tracy, Trudy says that’s Mr. Lessiter’s hand in the painting that’s been mostly blackened out.”

“Have John call me after he’s looked around, Judith.
I might end up coming over there myself. I agree with you. I think Julia is in trouble. I just hope she’s still alive. I’ll walk over tell Mimi everything. Be careful Judith.”

After hanging up I went to the back deck.
Trudy was sitting in the swing doubled over. She had taken her hair out of the pony tail and it covered her face. When I sat down beside her she put her head on my shoulder. I held her and let her cry.

“I wish I hadn’t run away from home.
I thought the other kids would have more to eat and that I could earn a living. At first I loved it at the Lessiter’s. There was always plenty to eat. If I could undo it all I wouldn’t eat much. I’d let the other kids have more.”