Chapter Twenty-Four

Not knowing who would respond or when on a Sunday afternoon with the Sinners playing, Jessie took care of the baby next, backtracking to the bedroom to get a bottle from the cooler and a clean diaper from the stack. She completed the change, careful to avoid the splotch of darkening red on the spread, and stopped Lizzy’s insistent cries with the bottle. Just as the baby settled, the doorbell rang with urgency, someone laying on the button, followed by loud knocking as if she were the recipient of the world’s most important delivery.

“Sorry, Lizzy. I have to take care of this.” Down the hall again, she opened the door just as a passkey jiggled in the lock.

“Campus police, Officer Dooley here. What’s the emergency? Do you need an ambulance?” The light eyes of the officer tracked the smears of blood on the floor leading to and from the bedroom. Young enough to be a student or a dropout from the police academy, his face bore a trace of acne and a pitiful attempt to grow a mustache. He seemed rattled by the signs of carnage. His hand went to his holster.

“No, but someone does. I’m Jessica Minvielle. I shot a man who tried to assault me back there. Threatened the baby too. He’s gone now. You won’t need your weapon.” Jessie jerked her head toward the rear.

“Domestic dispute?”

“No. His girlfriend, Ella Sue Smalls, is the baby’s mother. His name is Wyatt. I don’t know the last name. They decided to take off without the child, but not before the guy had some fun with me. Actually, Ella tried to stop him. I managed to get the gun from a drawer while he was distracted. I wounded him in the hip, and Ella used my wheelchair to haul him away. They took off in an old beater of a Ford truck.”

“Color? License?” His hands shaking a trifle, the officer frantically jotted her words in a notebook.

“Rust, I’d say. Lots of dents, a broken tailgate. Sorry, I didn’t get the license though he was parked in the handicapped spot. I meant to write it down and report him to your office, but never had the chance.”

“I think this is a little out of our jurisdiction. Have to call the city police.” The relief of passing on the case was obvious in his voice, going high, then low as he cleared his throat.

“Fine, I’ll just sit over here and finish feeding Lizzy. Maybe if I turn on the TV she’ll recognize her uncle’s voice and calm down.”

“Her uncle?”

“Teddy Billodeaux. This is his place. He’s calling a game in New Orleans this afternoon.” She checked her watch: only one. How could that be? Seemed like hours had passed. “I guess the game hasn’t started yet. I’m not sure when he left or if he has arrived at the Dome. All his contact numbers were in my phone. It should be in the pouch on the wheelchair outside.”

“Didn’t see one, ma’am.”

“Add theft to the charges—of a wheelchair, a cell phone, and…” Her eyes roved the living room and noticed for the first time the absence of the television and DVD player. The cables draped over the stand like severed arteries. “Add in a TV.”

“Will do. I’m stepping out to get backup.”

She had to keep busy or else the whole situation would collapse with only her will currently holding up that shaky structure. Jessie poured her attention on Lizzy, transferring them to the rocker to complete the feeding. Moving the chair by shifting her torso back and forth, she made up new words to the old folk song, Little Liza Jane.

I’ve got a guy and you’ve got none, li’l Lizzy Jane.

I’ve got a guy who calls me “hun”, li’l Lizzy Jane.

Oh, my Lizzy, li’l Lizzy Jane.

Lizzy Jane has come to me.

We’re as happy as we can be.

Oh, my Lizzy, li’l Lizzy Jane.

Come my love and live with me.

I will take good care of thee.

Oh, my Lizzy, li’l Lizzy Jane.

The song evoked evenings spent around bonfires when she went away to camp as a child and loved every moment, unlike more timid children who feared the spiders in the cabins, the occasional snakes in the woods, the slimy bottom of the lake, and the ghost stories told in the dead of night. Jessie wondered what type of child this baby might become, one full of confidence and courage, or a sly liar like her mother. She doubted Lizzy would be shy. Even as the baby nursed, her blue eyes focused on Jessie’s face, intense and searching, perhaps for Teddy who most often cared for her.

The screech of a siren announced the arrival of a squad car and startled Lizzy so the formula dribbled from the side of her mouth as it opened wide. Jessie transferred her to a comforting shoulder before she began to squall or choke. Judging by the amount of equipment on their utility belts, solid physiques, and eyes undisturbed by the blood on the floor, the real cops had arrived. They flashed their badges and identified themselves, Officer Nelson, the elder, and Officer Paton, somewhat younger, one white, one black. “Thank you for coming,” she said with rather feeble formality. Wasn’t this their job?

“I filled them in outside,” Officer Dooley reported as if he’d done her a great favor. “I didn’t want to go back to the bedroom and disturb the crime scene.”

“You did the right thing, son. Now you can run along. We’ll handle it from here.”

More accustomed to dealing with men exposing themselves to coeds, drunken football fans, fraternity pranks, and booting illegally parked cars, Dooley took off jackrabbit fast and left them to it. Despite his good intentions, Jessie had to repeat all she’d told him. They did examine the bedroom, called in a crime scene team to verify the evidence, and asked for the gun in question. Not wanting to wake the baby, Jessie nodded to the pouch on the wheelchair. They bagged the weapon.

“Look, this Wyatt said he had a gun in his glove compartment. Be sure to note he is armed and dangerous. He also has a police record of some kind. And please try to keep Ella safe. She did try to help me in her own way.”

“We’ll do our best. You’re Coach Mo’s daughter, right? Why were you here again?”

“To help Ella with the baby while Teddy is away. She’s very young and inexperienced. I guess I should tell you she intended to desert the child and left a note that she wanted him to take care of Lizzy.”

“We found it, but didn’t open it. More evidence. Since you aren’t any relation to the baby, we’ll have to call Child Welfare to take her until Mr. Billodeaux returns.”

Jessie saw their steely eyes glance at the wheelchair. “I assure you I can care for her until Teddy gets home.”

“Sorry, Miss Minvielle. That’s not how it works. We have to make sure this child is safe and in good hands.”

Jessie stiffened in the rocking chair. “My hands work perfectly well.”

“I’m sure that’s true, but this is procedure.” Officer Nelson asked his partner to contact someone to take the child away. He stayed put as if Jessie might suddenly vault into her wheelchair and take off with the infant. “You could pack a bag for the kid, save some time.”

Jessie eased Lizzy into her baby seat and herself back into the wheelchair. “Sure.”

She rolled to Ella’s bedroom and filled the huge empty diaper bag with the sweet little clothes, diapers, and light blankets. Best to put in some bottles and formula, too, but she couldn’t seem to make herself leave the momentary privacy of the room. Without Lizzy to keep her courage up, the horrible moment of being flung to the bed, her legs leaden weights holding her down, having only her hands to put up a fight, returned like a tidal wave. If Ella hadn’t thrown herself on Wyatt’s back, what might have happened? Jessie began to tremble. Tears came. She dried them with a newborn diaper before forcing herself back to the living room and over to the refrigerator to pack the bottles. She’d hold Lizzy until another woman came for her.

Officer Nelson made no remark about her swollen eyes. She probably had makeup smeared under them to rival the mask of a raccoon. So much for wanting people to notice her face, not her dead legs. They’d certainly stare now. “Would you like us to call someone to take you home?” he asked, not unkindly.

“No, I can drive myself.” At least, she’d shoved her car keys into a pocket and not into the pouch on her chair. The thieves had gotten her driver’s license. Not that she’d tell the cop that. She needed a new one anyhow listing her disability.

The joy she’d felt that morning at her new independence was as deflated as the balloon bouquets that celebrated the baby’s birth and lay close to the floor like wilted flowers. She’d failed Teddy and Lizzy. The police had his gun and his niece and the letter confirming the mother’s wishes. How long it would take to untangle, she did not know.

When the Child Welfare social worker arrived, Jessie had no choice but to turn the child over to her, bag and baggage. She pressed a kiss into Lizzy’s soft, fuzzy hair before letting her go. The woman possessed a grandmotherly air, a broad soft bosom, and careful arms that held Lizzy safely. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of her. I have a secure car seat, but if you’d bring the baby seat and the diaper bag that would be a big help.”

Unable to respond without sobbing, Jessie nodded. She loaded her lap with the requested items and followed the woman to the curb. At least the social worker didn’t find her totally useless. Once she watched the car holding Lizzy out of sight, she had nothing more to do than drive herself home as she’d said she would.