Chapter 4

 

 

 

LaShaun had explained three times that Chase was on his way to pick her up. Katie huffed about the strange turn her day of planning had taken. Chatterbox Adrianna became quiet. LaShaun could tell she was afraid that more spooky events were happening. Chase pulled up in his Vermilion Parish Sheriff’s department cruiser and her future sisters-in law weren’t the only folks staring. Marion and Henry wore expressions that held equal parts anxiety and curiosity. Marion spoke up first before Chase even got out.

“Um, I hope there isn’t a problem,” the innkeeper said. She looked at all three of her visitors with curiosity.

“No, ma’am, nothing for you to worry about,” LaShaun said in her best cheerful tone. Not unless you call possibly having a serial killer for a neighbor a problem, she thought grimly. But she kept her smile as Chase exited from the driver’s side.

Katie turned to the woman. “You know how it is. He probably got lonesome for his one true love, and since he was close by...” She winked at the older couple.

“Hey, everybody. This place is pretty nice,” Chase said with a grin and planted a kiss on LaShaun’s mouth. “I hope y’all don’t mind me runnin’ off with my lady for a bit. She said y’all were about to wrap it up anyway.”

Adrianna wore a slight frown of skepticism. She shot a glance at LaShaun with an eyebrow raised. “We haven’t seen the rooms or the cabins for your honeymoon. I’d say that’s pretty important.”

“I was going to suggest that Chase come back with me for that part of the tour anyway,” LaShaun put in before Chase could speak again.

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan. So, let’s go baby. Nice to meet y’all,” Chase said and nodded graciously to Henry and Marion.

Henry strode forward with a hand out. “Nice to meet you, Deputy Broussard. You’re a real hero around here.”

“Thank you, sir. Just doing my job,” Chase said and shook hands with him.

“You’ve done more than just an ordinary day’s work on those cases, Deputy. Honey, he’s running for sheriff, and he’s got my vote. I know a lot of people who feel the same.” Henry grinned at him and motioned to his wife. “These folks are famous for catching a load of killers around here. Wow, this is fabulous.”

“Oh my,” Marion blurted out. “You’re LaShaun Rousselle. I watch Ghost Team USA all the time and James Shaffer says you’re a psychic. Is it true those murders were linked to the supernatural?”

LaShaun cleared her throat loudly to cover the loud groan from Chase. “No, ma’am. There’s very little reality in that reality show.”

I’ve really enjoyed meeting you folks, but we have to leave,” Chase said and grabbed LaShaun’s hand. “We’ll see you later, Katie and Adrianna.”

“Come on, Marion. We’ve got dinner to plan and rooms to clean while the guests are out sightseeing. Great meeting you folks,” Henry said.

Marion kept talking as her husband nudged her back to the B&B. “You know, I think we can finish renovating that cabin near the pond by the time of your wedding. That’s it. You be sure and call me back.”

“Thanks. We’ll be in touch,” LaShaun replied with a wave.

Katie stepped forward with Adrianna beside her. “Why did you really drive miles over here?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Adrianna added. Her Latina accent grew deeper. “I know you didn’t just happen to drop by this way. Don’t even try it.”

Chase waved a forefinger at his sister and sister-in-law. “Official business I can’t discuss. Thanks for understanding.” He tugged LaShaun’s hands until she trailed behind him.

“Sorry, girls. I promise we’ll get right back on the wedding details. Call you.” LaShaun blew a kiss at them.

“Yeah, we want to know more than wedding details,” Katie shouted.

LaShaun got into the passenger side of the cruiser. The imitation leather interior was such a deep brown it looked black. The tough vinyl could stand up to heavy use, but the seats were comfortable. She sat in the bucket seat. A console between the passenger and driver held a compact laptop computer, a wide band radio, and other tools of the cop trade. Chase slid smoothly into the driver’s seat behind the wheel.

“We still got forty minutes left of the recess the judge granted the DA. Good thing we’re so close to the courthouse.” Chase checked for traffic and pulled onto the road. He soon had the cruiser going up to a speed of fifty miles per hour.

LaShaun waved a hand in front of her nose. “What is that trace of stink?”

“Sorry, I don’t even notice it now. Had a real smelly robbery suspect in here about three days ago. Guess I better get one of those little scented trees to hang from the rearview mirror, huh?” Chase grinned.

“What did he steal, road kill? Phew!” LaShaun hit the button and the car window rolled down.

“Hey, this is way better than it was. I had it scrubbed out,” Chase chuckled at LaShaun’s pained expression. “I can see you wouldn’t like police work. We deal with a lot worse smells, believe me.”

“Speaking of dealing with the dirty side of crime,” LaShaun said and lost the playful expression. “Manny Young is trying to get a new trial?”

Chase frowned. “Yeah, and trust me, there is no clean side of crime. Not in my experience. Killers like Manny Young and his grandfather make funky smelling petty crooks something to look forward to.”

“He was convicted of a bloody killing, and there’s solid evidence linking him to at least eleven other murders. What lawyer in his right mind would take his case and work on an appeal for the Blood River Ripper?” LaShaun stared at Chase. “It’s unbelievable.”

“That’s where you come in seems like,” Chase replied with a tense set to his handsome jaw. “One of the hot shot professors from Tulane Law School and his top students. They take on cases with ‘unique circumstances’ is how they put it. I read up on them.”

“What?” LaShaun glared at him and slapped his arm. “How long have you known Manny was trying to get a new trial?”

Chase heaved a sigh. “Only about two weeks. We’ve both been happy for the last few months, even with the political crap that goes with the election. I didn’t want to spoil it, especially for you. You’ve been so relaxed, like... I don’t know, like just a normal nervous bride.”

“Yeah, about as normal as you can get with the notorious LaShaun Rousselle, right?” LaShaun said and smiled at him. “I wish I could give you even more normal, honey.”

“Hey, I got what I want. Darlin’, if I wanted normal, I could have gotten a job in a local plant and married some girl next door. Instead, I chose to join the sheriff’s department and fell in love with a beautiful woman who had me with her first ‘Hello’.” Chase took one hand off the steering wheel and rubbed LaShaun’s thigh for a few seconds before letting go again.

LaShaun laughed as she slid as close as the divided seats would allow. “I’d like to see the day Chase Broussard let any woman rule him.”

“Trust me, baby. You got me body and soul,” Chase said quietly as he pulled up to a four-way stop intersection. When the car stopped moving, he took the chance to kiss LaShaun.

When their lips parted, LaShaun brushed her fingers through his hair. “Me, too, Deputy Broussard.”

Chase put both hands back on the wheel and took a turn for the final two miles to the courthouse. “I don’t want anybody messin’ with you, and that sure as hell includes Manny Young.”

The warmth from their kiss faded as LaShaun remembered the serial killer. “What’s the lawyer’s theory, and how does it involve me?”

“He says because Manny had an abusive childhood, his grandfather had control of his mind. At first the DA thought he was going for an added twist on the insanity defense. But I don’t think so.” Chase pulled up to a stop light on a few blocks from the picturesque downtown of Abbeville. “I think the lawyer is going to say Manny didn’t kill anybody, that he may have been present but...”

“His granddaddy actually did the killing,” LaShaun finished for him. An intense prickle like electricity coursed down her arms. Orin Young had been a kind of human evil that could make even an atheist believe in Satan. “Orin Young did destroy his oldest son and turned Manny into a monster,” LaShaun replied.

“Humph, that’s exactly what his legal team wants to convince the judge. There’s the DA. He’s not looking too happy,” Chase said and nodded toward the lovely old courthouse.

As they got out of the cruiser Scott Hazelton strode toward them. He seemed on edge, unable to wait until they crossed the pavement to reach him. At six feet four inches tall, the DA made a big impression during trials and before media cameras. His thick dark hair, slightly gray at the temples, helped as well. LaShaun could sense that he had a mixture of annoyance and relief to see her. After all, he’d come close to trying her for murder less than a year ago.

“Ms. Rousselle; thanks for coming on such short notice,” Hazelton intoned and stuck out his hand.

LaShaun took it briefly and let go. “I’m very surprised to be here, to say the least.”

“I can well imagine. I...” Hazelton’s voice faded away as he glanced past them. “We’ve got company, this way.”

Chase followed his gaze. “Damn it. How did Schaffer get wind of this?”

“Tell me you’re kidding,” LaShaun muttered.

Hazelton jerked a thumb for them to follow to a side door a few feet away. “At least he won’t be able to follow us.”

The DA’s long legged-stride made LaShaun almost jog beside him to keep up as Chase brought up the rear. Schaffer called out to them as he hustled from almost a block away to get closer. His videographer stood still shooting footage for a few seconds longer, no doubt using a zoom lens. Then he moved when Schaffer yelled for him to follow. Both were too late. Hazelton got them through the door and inside long before Schaffer could catch up. The entrance wasn’t for the public, only for official use. A chunky male Abbeville police officer checked LaShaun’s small cross-body bag and waved them on. Then the solemn middle-aged cop scowled at Schaffer, who stood outside tapping on the glass with the words “Employees Only” clearly painted on it. The officer opened the door.

“This isn’t a public entrance sir. If you have court business, please go to the new building across the parking lot.”

“I only want to speak to the DA and Ms. Rousselle. I’m with the Fox Network and--”

“Sir, you can’t come in,” the officer repeated in a monotone that implied he was used to repeating those words.

LaShaun looked back only briefly as Hazelton led them deeper into the historic old building. Schaffer’s attempts at impressing the officer fell on deaf ears. LaShaun smiled as Schaffer’s voice rose in frustration.

“You can bet he’ll be waiting for us,” Chase said with a grimace.

“Who is that clown anyway?” Hazelton said. He waved them into a small conference room. A younger man dressed in a dark gray suit entered and shut the door.

“The lead investigator of spooky happenings on a show called Ghost Team USA,” LaShaun started.

“My wife loves that show,” the younger man said. He shrugged when Hazelton sighed. “Sorry, but it’s kind of popular. I’m Josh Labadie by the way, assistant DA.”

He grinned at them and nodded. His honey blonde all-American-boy-next door good looks contrasted with Hazelton’s dark, somber facade.

“Nice to meet you,” LaShaun said. He seemed less keyed up, and more accessible than his boss. Yet she also sensed he used his charm as a weapon to disarm. “So why am I here gentlemen?”

“Right to the point, eh? I like it,” Labadie said, the good-humor radiating from him.

“Emanuel Young’s new lawyers intend to argue that his grandfather or someone in his grandfather’s gang did the killings,” Hazelton said, just as direct.

“They haven’t come out and said as much, but based on comments they’ve made so far…” Josh added and looked to his boss.

“That’s where they’re headed. Neal Montgomery is one of the top defense attorneys in this state, in the country even. He teaches part-time at Tulane Law School and started the True Justice Project. He selects six students from the top two percent of the class.” Hazelton’s dark eyebrows went up. “And that’s saying something, because all the students at Tulane are top notch.”

“Full disclosure, sir. You’re a Tulane alum,” Josh quipped. “I’m from LSU. We hold our own.”

Hazelton’s grave expression cracked for a second when one corner of his mouth lifted. Then he grew serious again. “Back to the reason you’re here, Ms. Rousselle. Montgomery has you on a list of potential witnesses. I know you visited Young at the forensic facility twice. Tell me what you discussed.”

LaShaun glanced at Chase. His dark Cajun eyes gave no clue as he sat across from her. Still, she felt a wave of protectiveness from him. The DA and his assistant glanced between them as though trying to read body language.

“Your exchange isn’t covered by any kind of professional privilege,” Josh said quietly. When Chase shot a sharp look at him, the young attorney cleared his throat. “In case you’re wondering.”

“I know that, and I want to help. I sure don’t think Manny should be out, or even in a minimum security setting,” LaShaun replied with a frown.

“How did you know that he’s...” Josh’s voice trailed off. He turned to his boss.

Hazelton continued to gaze steadily at LaShaun. “Ms. Rousselle?”

“We didn’t talk about his conviction. Mostly we talked about his family, a little about his childhood. I’m surprised he would go for an appeal. He mentioned that he knew the evidence against him was solid. He even implied that he needed to be locked up.” LaShaun shook her head. “Then there’s the other side of him.”

Hazelton sat forward on the edge of his chair. “Tell me more.”

LaShaun thought back to the lightening quick change Manny could make. She switched off from her surroundings as she relived sitting across from the serial killer. “Manny can be charming, even look totally harmless. But he’s a cunning, ruthless predator. He enjoys the physical sensation of overpowering his victim. Emotionally he feeds off their struggle to survive, like a psychic vampire. Manny even likes the taste of his victims.”

“He’s a cannibal?” Josh asked, eyes wide with repulsion.

“No, not eating their raw flesh, though I suspect he bit several of them. He likes licking their sweat. The flavor excites him sexually.” LaShaun’s stomach lurched as she pushed against making a telepathic connection to the monster. Her skin tingled and itched so intensely that she rubbed her arms hard. “I don’t think bringing Manny outside for court is a good idea. At all. He’s a master manipulator.”

“Baby, calm down. Manny ain’t even in the parish. I promise you,” Chase said quickly and put an arm around the back of her chair as he moved closer.

“He’s at Feliciana Forensic Hospital, ma’am,” Hazelton said.

“But he’s been watching the hearing using video conference equipment we set up,” Josh added. “His attorney insisted. Look, is it true he’s got some kind of paranormal abilities?”

“We’re not going down that mumbo jumbo path,” Hazelton clipped back before LaShaun could react. “I don’t give a damn what some crew of boogey-man chasers say. Manny is a sadistic killer. Human evil exists. I’ve seen enough of it to know.”

“We don’t want to sensationalize this case anymore than it’s already going to be. Manny lured his victims in and murdered them. Plain and simple,” Chase added in his deep, firm voice as he gazed at the assistant DA.

“Sure. I was just asking,” Josh replied and sat back in his chair. He avoided the stony look from his boss. “So, any clues from his childhood with Orin Young?”

“Manny was abused physically and emotionally by his father,” LaShaun replied carefully.

Josh flipped open a soft leather briefcase and took out a folder. “Ethan Young disappeared years ago. He had an arrest history, mostly drugs. But he did have a couple of simple battery charges.”

“Orin Young was just as vicious to his family as he was to the strangers he killed,” LaShaun said with force. Her rage at the agony one man inflicted flooded her veins like fire. She slapped the surface of the table.

“Damn,” Josh mumbled and blinked at his boss.

“Look, we’re pretty sure Manny’s legal team is going to say he was abused. They’re more than likely also going to say he was controlled by his grandfather and his father,” Hazelton said.

Josh glanced at his smart phone. “We’ve got about five minutes left of this break.”

“Did Manny mention his grandfather or his father leading him to become a killer? Was Orin or Ethan Young with Manny when he killed any victims?” Hazelton said, getting to the point.

LaShaun glanced at Chase and then back at Hazelton. “Manny never mentioned them being together.”

“Which doesn’t mean they weren’t,” Hazelton answered and stared at her hard as though willing her to remember more.

LaShaun shook her head. “But he didn’t talk to me about the murders.”

“Okay then. That’s good.” Hazelton stood and smoothed down his dark green silk tie. He buttoned the deep blue jacket of his suit and nodded to his assistant. Josh rose and hastily stuffed the folder back into his briefcase. Chase and LaShaun stood as well.

LaShaun looked at Hazelton in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. Manny’s lawyers are probably hoping you can tell a gruesome tale of how Orin forced his poor grandson to witness a bloodbath,” Chase answered for the two prosecutors.

“Deputy Broussard has been down this road before,” Hazelton said with a tight smile.

“Nothing pisses me off more than the ‘Poor me’ defense,” Chase grumbled.

“Manny’s sister told me Ethan and Orin beat him when he was a kid. He suffered psychological abuse as well.” LaShaun stopped short of saying how learning he was a product of incest had twisted Manny’s mind even more.

“More reason he needs to stay locked up. That makes him less likely to respond to short-term therapy,” Josh put in.

“Which makes him a threat to public safety; that fact along with the physical evidence linking him to the murders means the jury got it right the first time. The death penalty was made for guys like Emanuel Young,” Hazelton said.

“Sounds like you’ve got your closing argument half-way finished,” Chase said with a half grin.

“Just about,” Hazelton answered. “Judge Barrow is known to lean toward extenuating circumstances and the bad childhood argument.”

“Crap, Patricia Barrow is your judge?” Chase rubbed his forehead.

“What’s wrong?” LaShaun asked and tapped Chase’s arm.

“Judge Patricia Barrow isn’t exactly a fan of law enforcement procedures. She views some of our routine practices as going over the line to trap suspects.” Chase scowled as he spoke.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Josh said. “Judge Barrow has handed down her share of convictions in bench trials.”

“Mostly in trials of misdemeanor cases though. She also thinks the system is stacked against minority defendants.” Hazelton shook his head.

“I happen to agree with her,” LaShaun said more sharply than she probably should have. “And more than a few studies back that up.” The three men grew quiet for several seconds. A knock on the door broke the silence.

A court deputy stuck his head in the door. “Court is about to be called back in session, guys.”

“Thanks.” Hazelton nodded at him. “Well, the issue of bias on the basis of race won’t come up with Manny anyway. That’s something. Look, Ms. Rousselle, I realize you came to feel a certain empathy with his family, maybe even for him.”

“I know exactly who and what Manny is, Mr. Hazelton.” LaShaun spoke calmly as they walked out of the old court building and toward the more modern version. “He needs to stay in a secure setting for a long, long time.”

“LaShaun doesn’t have any ammunition that’s going to blow apart the case against Manny,” Chase said.

“What about you, Deputy Broussard?” Hazelton shot back. “You were at those interviews, and you brought in Orin Young.”

“And the rest of his gang, too,” Josh added with a serious expression on his fresh, young face.

Chase grunted. “His lawyers sure as hell won’t get any traction from anything I have to say. Manny may be nuts, but he knew exactly what he was doing; same goes for his granddaddy. They killed because they liked it. Nothing supernatural about that.”

They reached the entrance to the courthouse. Another court deputy checked LaShaun’s purse. He also made sure Chase wasn’t carrying his service hand gun before he let them go to Court Room B. More than three dozen spectators were seated on the two rows of long wooden benches. LaShaun guessed at least a third of those were reporters. Hazelton and his assistant strode down the center aisle and took their places at a table. The court officials were separated from the audience section by a three-foot-tall solid wood gate with little swinging doors at both ends. A tall man with jet black hair stood talking to a woman.

“That’s Neal Montgomery.” Chase was about to go on when he let out a hiss. “Oh hell, look who’s here.”

James Schaffer waved to LaShaun when she glanced around. She ignored him and went back to studying Neal Montgomery. He stood at least six feet tall. His skin had the olive tone that implied he had Italian ancestry mixed in with the Irish, but it was his intense violet blue eyes that made Montgomery stand out. Suddenly, he turned from talking to the woman next to him. He gazed directly at LaShaun without looking around at anyone else. He smiled and nodded a greeting to her as though they’d met. LaShaun’s heart beat fast. Something was wrong.

“You know the guy?” Chase asked with a frown.

“Never met him before,” LaShaun said.

“Well I already don’t like him,” Chase muttered and stared back at Montgomery. The tall man gave a nod and went back to his conversation. “What the hell was that about?”

“I have a feeling Mr. Montgomery knows all about us right down to the size of our shoes,” LaShaun whispered.

The police officer on duty pointed them to a bench close to the front that had space that he’d reserved, right behind the prosecution table. “Y’all come up to this front bench. How you doin’, Sheriff Broussard?”

Chase gave him a collegial clap on the shoulder. “Not yet, but keep a good thought on that, Danny. This is my fiancée.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” The man gave a respectful nod then went back to his duties. He studied the audience before going back to stand against the wall to the right of the judge’s bench.

LaShaun sat next to Chase. She waited to see if Montgomery would look at her again. She intended to do her own research about the striking man. He gave off a different kind of aura than she’d expected. Yet LaShaun couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was or why it felt so odd.

Chase leaned close and spoke softly. “You got a funny feeling about Manny’s lawyer. I can tell.”

“Yes, but...” LaShaun sighed. “Maybe it’s nothing. Some people are so strong-willed they affect me that way. It doesn’t happen often though.”

“So did I knock you back a few steps?” Chase grinned at her.

“Yes, you did, Deputy Broussard. And in a very good way,” LaShaun quipped with a grin. Before she or Chase could continue flirting, the bailiff’s voice broke in.

“All rise. Court is now in session. The Honorable Patricia Robertson Barrow,” Danny boomed.

“Thank you, officer. You may be seated,” Judge Barrow said without looking at the audience after she sat down. “Mr. Montgomery, the court has taken your request for a new trial into consideration. I find no evidence to suggest the first conviction would have been different had the jury known about Mr. Young’s history of childhood abuse. Further, none of the facts surrounding the investigation of his grandfather’s crimes show evidence that Orin Young committed these crimes. Therefore, your request for a new trial is denied.”

“Yes!” Josh blurted out. He winced when the judge glared at him.

“Your honor, we wanted to question a witness. Ms. Rousselle might have shed some light on the entire facts surrounding the murders Mr. Young’s grandfather is alleged to have committed. At the very least he seems to have instigated them. Those would constitute mitigating circumstances that might change his death sentence, or support the need for a new trial.”

“Mr. Montgomery, I read your arguments and your petition. According to the records, Mr. Emanuel Young never implicated his grandfather. Mr. Orin Young never confessed to the earlier string of murders. Request for a new trial denied,” Judge Barrow spoke sharply as though her patience was being sorely tested. She banged her gavel as a symbolic and emphatic end to Montgomery’s attempts to debate.

The audience in the courtroom set up a growing buzz of conversation. The officer on duty firmly invited people to find the nearest exit or keep quiet. His expression clearly communicated he’d help them find the doors if they didn’t comply. Chase gave him a wave. He and LaShaun followed the two prosecutors out through a side door and into a side hallway.

“Put one in the win column for the good guys,” Chase said and gave a sigh of relief.

Hazelton tucked a large expanding folder under his right arm. “Judge Barrow surprised me.”

“Surprised? I about broke my jaw when it hit the floor,” Josh put in.

“I’m just happy LaShaun didn’t have to testify,” Chase said. His relaxed smile was back.

LaShaun started to answer him when Montgomery pushed through the doors. His female colleague came right behind him. She had dark red hair that contrasted with her strikingly pale skin. She followed Montgomery’s gaze and studied LaShaun. The woman nodded at LaShaun before they strode off, hand in hand. Both seemed to say they would meet again on their terms.

“This issue isn’t over,” LaShaun said, her voice cutting off the conversation between Chase and the two men.

“Sure. It’s routine for lawyers to file an appeal, but we have a solid argument, especially if even liberal Judge Barrow didn’t buy their attempt at a new trial,” Hazelton replied with confidence.

“Yes, and the important thing is Manny will stay locked up for years while they fight a losing battle,” Josh added.

“Even more good news,” Chase said. Still he glanced at LaShaun. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

LaShaun watched the handsome couple stride down the hallway and turn a corner. Both left behind traces of their strong auras, two powerful personalities not easily discouraged from a path once chosen. Their efforts on Manny’s behalf weren’t over. LaShaun somehow sensed that it went beyond the court case.

“This isn’t over,” she repeated softly.