American Heroes Series - 03 - Purgatory (34 page)

“Pretty much.”

The conversation died into warm
silence and they held hands as Nash pulled into the Sorrento Police
Department’s parking lot.   He pulled up to a parking spot in front of the
squat brick building with the white-trim windows, getting out of the car and
going around to open Elliot’s door.

Just as he unlatched her door,
Beck came barreling into the parking lot, spinning out in the loose gravel at
the entrance.  He could hear Penelope laughing as Beck pulled the truck in
beside his dad’s cruiser. Nash, however, hadn’t let Elliot out of the car yet
because he didn’t want her to see his son driving so recklessly with her
daughter in the truck.

Elliot finally opened her door.
“Can I come out now?”

Nash opened the door and helped
her out, all the while eyeing his son as the young man climbed out of the
truck, laughing along with Penelope. Nash took Elliot’s elbow politely,
directing her and Penelope towards the front door of the police station. As
they were mounting the steps, he leaned over to Beck.

“Son,” he muttered. “This is one
of those times when I’m going to tell you you’re not too old to spank. If I
ever see you driving like that again with Penny in the car, you’re going to get
it.”

Beck looked at his father,
surprised. “What did I do?”

“You spun out when you pulled in
to the parking lot,” Nash hissed. “Do I really have to talk to you about that?”

Beck was genuinely surprised. “I
didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Let’s hope not. I’ll beat you
within an inch of your life if I catch you doing that again.”

Beck just shrugged and Nash went
to open the door for the women, hit by the smell of cheap carpet and cigarette
smoke. Ushering him into the cool lobby of the small police station, he was
moving toward the desk sergeant when a shrill voice caught his attention.

“Nash Aury!”

Nash turned quickly towards the
sound of the voice. He knew it all too well and was immediately on his guard. 
Biffy Loreau had apparently been seated back against the wall of the lobby, by
the front door, so he hadn’t seen her when he had walked in.  Dressed in a
clean, if not ugly, housecoat and white orthopedic shoes, her black hair was
pulled tight against her head as she marched up on Nash as if he was the only
one in the room.

“I’ve come for my boys,” she
snapped. “Y’all can’t keep ‘em here any longer. I’ve done got me a lawyer now
and he says y’all can’t hold them any longer without charging ‘em.”

Nash tried to get between Biffy
and Elliot, Penelope and Beck.  He didn’t want the old bird focusing her venom
on the others.

“Ms. Biffy, I’m sure one way or
the other, things will get resolved today,” he said evenly.

She thrust a finger into his
face. “Have y’all come to set my boys free?”

He shook his head. “That’s not my
job,” he told her. “The police will do what they feel they need to do.”

Unfortunately, Biffy caught sight
of Penelope cowering behind Nash and her focus immediately shifted.  She
pointed a finger at her.

“Y’all can’t do nothing!” she
told her. “Y’all come here and… and mess things up! We don’t want your kind
here!”

Nash watched the woman carefully.
“What do you mean ‘she can’t do nothing’?” he asked, calculated. “How would you
know why she’s here?”

For the first time, Biffy lost
her venom, looking at Nash with a startled expression. “I….,” she began
pointing in Penelope’s general direction but she was backing off. “She don’t
need to be here. My lawyer will be here and he’ll fix y’all good!”

As the old woman swiftly backed
away, Penelope grabbed Nash’s arm.

“That’s the voice I heard,” she
whispered urgently. “Remember I told you I heard a woman’s voice when I was
attacked? That’s it!”

He turned to look at her, seeing
she was already in tears.  Putting a protective arm around her shoulders, he
turned her around and headed for the back offices where the detectives were
located, away from the lobby.  Penelope was wiping tears by the time he took
her to one of the detective’s desks and set her down in a worn vinyl chair. 

The police department had an open
floor plan so most of the desks crunched up against each other. The only
offices in the place were those for the chief and the conference room that
doubled as a briefing room. The fat detective who usually wore the beige suit
was wearing cheap gray today; he saw Nash come in with Penelope Jentry and
waddled over to him from where he had been standing against the briefing room
door.

“Sheriff Aury,” he greeted. “I’m
glad ya’ll are here. It seems we’ve got a….”

“Hello, Nash.”

A voice cut the detective off.
Nash looked over at the briefing room and noticed a familiar face smiling back
at him. A man about Nash’s age stood in the doorway dressed in jeans, cowboy
boots and an expensive camel hair sport coat.  When he smiled, it was impish
and bright.  Nash looked at him and just shook his head.

“Oh, no,” he grunted. “Don’t tell
me….”

“That’s right, old friend,” the
man came out of the briefing room with his hand outstretched. “I’m afraid so.
It’s good to see you.”

Nash took the man’s hand
reluctantly and shook it.  It was apparent he was displeased. “The only way
you’d be here is if someone was in need of a shark, so I can only assume you’re
here for the Loreaus.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Call it a wild guess.”

The man put up his hands as if
cheering. “Then you would be right.” He could see that Nash was thoroughly
displeased. “It’s been a long time, Nash. The first time I’d heard your name in
a couple of years was when Ms. Biffy contacted me. Now tell me how in the hell
you fit into this mess with the Loreau boys?”

Nash shook his head. “You tell me
what you’ve been told and I’ll tell you what the truth is.”

The man lifted his eyebrows,
considered the proposal, and started to talk. “It’s long and complicated, but
it starts out with a complaint of assault against you and the Sorrento Police
Department,” he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pair of reading
glasses and a piece of paper.  He read the paper as he spoke. “I’m filing a
civil suit for wrongful death against Alec Jentry in the death of Femmie Loreau
in addition to defending Will, Ed and Nicky Loreau against potential assault
charges.  Know anything about those?”

Nash just stared at him,
digesting the ridiculous information. He could hardly believe his ears, yet on
the other hand, he wasn’t particularly surprised.

“Buck, you know the Loreaus,” he
hissed. “You know who and what they are; you grew up around here, for God’s
sake. You know those charges are bullshit and you further know that they don’t
have any money to pay your legal fees.”

Buck Thompson, a criminal defense
attorney born in Sorrento but based in Baton Rouge, folded up the paper in his
hand and pulled off his glasses.

“They will once they win the
civil suit against the owner of Purgatory where Femmie was killed,” he said
frankly. “A best-selling author by the name of Jentry. I spoke with Louise Dawn
earlier today and she gave me all of the information I need on the new owner
since she handled the transaction. Since Purgatory used to be your property,
I’m assuming you at least know of the family.”

Nash felt sick to his stomach. He
closed his eyes briefly, as it to ward off the impact of Buck’s words, thinking
of how he was to respond.  He didn’t dare look at Elliot, fearful he would lose
control of the situation and his composure if he did. If she was upset, and she
would be, it was a foregone conclusion that he would be upset right along with
her.

He went to Buck and grabbed the
man by the arm, pushing him towards the briefing room.

“Let’s go and talk about this
someplace private,” he said quietly.

Buck did as he was asked,
entering the briefing room with Nash.  Elliot and Penelope were still standing
with the Sorrento detective, wide-eyed with shock at the revelations being put
forth. Just when they thought things were getting better, something like this
brought them right back down again. It was just too much to take; Penelope
finally buried her face in her hands and started weeping. Stunned, Elliot put
her hand on her daughter’s head, comfortingly, as she turned to the detective.

“Can… can we just please get this
line up over with, please?” she asked hoarsely.

The detective wasn’t
unsympathetic. He’d hoped to warn Sheriff Aury off of Buck Thompson but he
hadn’t been fast enough. Thompson had been around the station all morning,
causing problems as Ms. Biffy wandered the lobby calling for justice.  

“Yes’m,” he said quietly. “If you
and Ms. Penny will come with me, we’ll get this going just as quick as we can.”

Penelope wiped her face and stood
up just about the time Nash came shooting out of the briefing room, slamming
the door behind him.  He pointed out in the direction of the lobby.

“You’re going to arrest Ms. Biffy
Loreau on accessory to assault charges,” he told the detective. “Miss Jentry has
identified Biffy as one of the accomplices to her assault and I want that woman
charged along with her grandsons.”

The detective was caught off
guard but he didn’t argue. What Sheriff Aury wanted, Sheriff Aury got. Now, the
harried morning had just gotten worse. He motioned to one of the uniforms
seated at the report-writing desk to his left.

“Go get the chief,” he told the
man quietly.  “We got a wildfire on our hands here.”

Only when things were in motion
did Nash dare look at Elliot. She was standing with her arm around Penelope,
gazing at him with a mixture of horror and trust. It was a strange combination,
one that inflamed Nash. He was already bent on murder as it was. Anyone who
came after Elliot and her family was going to pay a fair price, indeed.

Not surprisingly, Biffy Loreau
did not go quietly.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“How did they find out it was
Alec?” Elliot was seated at her breakfast room table, a box of Kleenex in her
lap.   “I just don’t understand.”

Nash sat beside her, his arm
around her shoulders, trying to give her what comfort he could. He felt worse
than she did about the turn of events, like he should have prevented it and
didn’t.  It was unnecessary guilt he carried around.

“Buck subpoenaed the police
report and Alec’s name was on it,” he said softly. “It’s a civil suit, Ellie.
It doesn’t mean that Alec is being charged with murder or even that he’s going
to jail. He’s not. It simply means that the Loreaus are suing him for the death
of Femmie. All they want is money. When and if it goes to trial, it’s not going
to go anywhere, trust me. No sane person is going to believe any of the
Loreaus.”

Elliot sniffled, wiping at her
nose with a tissue.  It was early afternoon and they were alone in the house
for the most part.  After the line-up at the police department in which
Penelope correctly identified all three Loreau brothers, everything erupted
into bedlam between Will professing their innocence and Biffy’s screamed
threats.

Beck took Penelope out of there
in a hurry and on a drive to get her mind off of everything, leaving Elliot and
Nash to determine their next move.  Now, not only did the charges involve Alec
and Elliot, but Nash was named as well in the separate charge of assault.  It
seemed that they were all interwoven into the situation now, like the fine
threads of a cobweb.  It was growing sticky and uncomfortable.

“Poor Alec,” Elliot began sobbing
again. “What was he supposed to do? Not defend himself?”

“Of course not,” Nash pulled her
close, his lips against her forehead. “He did what he was supposed to do.
Femmie was a worthless excuse for a human being long before he attacked Alec. 
He got what he deserved.”

“And you,” she was so upset she
could barely speak. “They’ve charged you with assault. And you’re supposed to
take that new job next month; how is this going to affect you?”

He shushed her softly. “Assault
charges against cops are a dime a dozen,” he told her. “This isn’t the first
one I’ve had and I’m sure it won’t be the last, but it’s certainly the most
ridiculous. Please don’t worry about it.”

Elliot collapsed against him,
sobbing softly.  Nash just held her, giving her time to work out her fear,
thinking of all of the lawyers he knew and which one he would hire to represent
Alec.  He could think of a brilliant defense attorney in New Orleans, an
African American woman that was abnormally sharp and cunning. She had done some
work for defendants against his office and he’d seen her in action. 

Nash decided to give Elpheda
Benson a call at some point, once Elliot was calmed down and he had a few
moments to spare.  Meanwhile, he was thinking about taking her to a nice dinner
that evening just to soothe her.  He was coming to think that the entire family
might need to be soothed.

“Knock, knock,” Beau was standing
in the dining room doorway, timidly banging on the door jamb. When Nash and
Elliot looked up at him, he smiled weakly. “Sorry to interrupt, but an interior
decorator from New Orleans is here. She says that Hallie told her to come.”