Heartless (6 page)

Chief Raiford Reynolds had a hectic morning. He had
dropped his kids at school and almost had an accident when
another harried parent ran the red light near the school. Next,
he signed expense vouchers for Chris and Baker to go to La
Place, Metairie, and Kenner after Chris interrogated him about
why Raif, who had never had tattoos, suddenly had two. It took
a great deal of persuasion to convince Chris that the whole
thing had truly been Raif's idea. Then, the phone calls from the
press had started. Ray yelled to his executive assistant, "Tanya,
don't put another damned reporter through!"

What about in person?"
"What do you mean?"
"There's a young man out here asking to see you."
"Is he a reporter?"
Ray heard muffled conversation.
"He says he's not with any kind of media. His name is

"Godchaux? Are you sure?"
"Yes, sir."
"How old is he?"
Muffled words echoed through the intercom again.
"He says he's seventeen," Tanya said.
Ray was quiet for a long time before Tanya asked, "What

The young man who entered Ray's office was very polite as
he extended his hand across the desk when Ray stood. "Hello,
sir. Thank you for seeing me. I'm Parker Godchaux."

Ray simply stared at the boy who looked just like Mia
except the eyes that looked back at Ray were reflections of his
own. Parker was not much bigger than Mia at around five-foot
eight or nine and around a hundred forty pounds according to
Ray's estimate. His dark brown hair hung limply like his
mother's to his shoulders and was parted on the left side. He
needed to shave since the sparse facial hair looked scruffy. He
was clean, but the clothes he wore were cheap and a bit shabby.
His gray sweat shirt was from a school in Metairie and had
obviously been laundered many times, and his jeans were
inexpensive, perhaps a Fred's Dollar Store purchase, with tears
in both knees. He wore boots which looked to be of a fairly
good quality although scuffed and worn.
Wonder if he picked
those up at a Goodwill
. Ray took all this in quickly, but he
could not get past the boy's eyes. Finally, Ray shook his hand.
"Mia's son?" Ray asked, still stunned.

The words that came from Ray's mouth next sounded as if
someone else was speaking. "Am I your father?"
The answer Ray received was even more shocking. "I don't
know, sir. My mother never said for sure, but
I
would like to
know. That's why I've come. I have a few possibilities. I'd like
to ask you to do a paternity test."
Ray scowled. "Any chance that Robert LaFontaine is one
of your possibilities?"
"Yes, sir. I already asked the Senator if he would take a
paternity test, but he refused."
"Of course, he did. That would've been a mighty big
skeleton in his closet."
"What about you?"
Shocked by Parker's frankness, Ray gestured to a chair. "Sit
down."
Parker took the seat, but held his fists in a tight clasp.
Ray responded to his question. "You're definitely a
surprise." He sat back down. "I never even knew Mia had a
child. If you
are
my son, I didn't know. If I had…"
"Would you have married my mother?"
Ray was honest. "I don't know. I'm sure we would've ended
up divorced, but I would have been a father to my child."
"Thank you for that," Parker said with wisdom far beyond
his years. "Does that mean you'll take the test?"
Ray rubbed his head.
Well, shit. It's not the boy's fault, no
matter what.
He nodded. "Yes, Parker. Come with me. We can
get the criminology lab to do it right now. It'll take a couple of
days to get the results. I'm sorry, Parker. I swear I never knew
about you."
Ray stood and Parker followed his example.
"I know you didn't, sir. Nobody knew about me. Thank you
for admitting at least the possibility that you
could
be my
father."
Ray took Parker to the lab a few blocks away where both
had blood drawn. Then, both walked back to the police station.
Ray asked, "Where are you staying?"
"I've got a place."
"With friends here?"
"Not exactly."
"A homeless shelter?" Ray's eyebrows shot to his hair line.
"Yes, sir."
"No. That will never do. Get your things. You're coming
home with me."
Parker shook his head. "No, sir. At least not until we know
the truth. I'll come by your office in a couple of days, but thank
you for the offer." Back in front of the police station, Parker
got on a motorcycle and left.
Ray turned around in circles a few times, feeling his life
was spiraling out of control. He jogged inside the station and
spoke to his assistant.
Ray went home.
Larkin had not called him. Obviously, there was nothing
seriously wrong, and he needed a few moments in the arms of
his guardian angel at that point in time.
Oh, my God! How do I
tell Larkin?
Ray asked himself as he drove.

Ray walked into his house to the scent of his favorite meal.
He remembered the first time he had tasted Larkin's rotisserie
chicken and how beautiful she had been across the table from
him. She had changed very little in the thirteen years they had
been married. She was short and slight, and she might have
gained five pounds. Moreover, there was not a strand of gray in
her auburn hair. She was forty-one, but she didn't look a day
over thirty.

Larkin came into the foyer where Ray always left his shoes.
"Welcome home," she said brightly as she slipped her arms
around her husband.

"Oh, this feels good," sighed Ray. "Where are the kids?"
"Spending the night with Uncle Raif. Come on. I made
your favorite meal." Larkin took Ray's hand and led him to the
cozy dining area off the kitchen. He sat down quietly as Larkin
spread dinner.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked.
"A bit. At least I'm really hungry tonight." She looked Ray
over. "You look so tired though," she observed. "What's
wrong?"
"I need to talk to you about something that happened
today."
"All right, but I have something for you first. Do you
mind?"
She's so happy.
He could not douse her enthusiasm. "No, I
don't mind."
Larkin handed Ray his gift. "Open it."
He opened the box and took out the baby shoes. "What's
this?"
"What does it look like?"
"Baby shoes."
"Uh-hum."
"Why do I need baby shoes?"
"
You
don't."
Blue eyes looked at his wife who had a Cheshire-cat grin
on her face. He exhaled, "Oh, my God!"
Larkin came around the table and sat on Ray's lap. "Yes, it
seems we forgot something after the masquerade ball. You
don't seem as excited as I thought you would be."
"Oh, Larkin, of course, I'm happy. It's just that you don't
know what happened today." Ray rubbed his head.
"Are you getting a migraine?"
"Yeah."
She went to the kitchen and came back with Ray's
prescription. He took a pill as she said, "Maybe you had better
tell
me what happened today because this is
not
the reaction I
expected from you."
"I don't know how to tell you, especially now."
"Just say it." Her tone was a bit brusque.
"I met a young man today. His name is Parker Godchaux.
I'm almost a hundred percent certain it should be Parker
Reynolds."
"What?" She sank into her own chair.
"He's Mia's son, and I think mine."
Larkin looked at Ray in total disbelief before she
whispered, "Is he the right age?"
Ray nodded.
"And he knows he's
not
Robert's?"
"No, he doesn't know. Mia might not know. He asked me to
take a paternity test, and I did. Robert refused. We'll know for
certain in a couple of days."
Her head leaning to one side she asked, "What does he
want, Ray?"
"Just to know who his father is. He wouldn't even come
home with me. He's staying in a shelter, Larkin."
"Where's Mia?"
"I don't know. I don't think he knows. Please, say
something to make me feel better."
"I don't know what to say, Ray. If he's your son, it
happened before I ever met you. I can't be angry or jealous
about that, but I'm
scared
Ray."
"I would never leave you and the kids. I love you, Larkin."
"I know that. I also know you and your sense of justice. If
he
is
your son, then you'll want to be his father. And you
should. I'm not afraid of Parker. I'm afraid of Mia."
"Why?"
"She has kept this secret from you for nearly eighteen
years. Your kid is sleeping in a homeless shelter. I'm sorry,
Ray, if this doesn't sound like me, but that woman is a heartless
bitch. If I ever meet her, I will give her a real piece of my
mind."
Larkin stood. "My husband's child will
not
sleep at a
homeless shelter tonight. Even if that child turns out to be
Robert's
, he will
not
sleep in a homeless shelter tonight.
Come on. We're going to find him. It's time for him to know
his father."

At the third shelter, Ray spotted the old Honda motorcycle
Parker had ridden that afternoon. He and Larkin entered the
dingy, but warm and dry, facility. With the four days of rain
had come much cooler temperatures. As the person at the
entrance announced, "We're full," without looking up, Ray
flashed his badge.

"I'm Police Chief Raiford Reynolds. I'm looking for Parker
Godchaux. I think he already signed in."
The tired-looking elderly man at the door looked at the
registry. "Yes, he did about an hour ago. He missed dinner. Is
he in some kind of trouble?"
"No."
"Go and find him, Chief."
"Thanks." Ray took Larkin's hand protectively as they
walked though the crowded shelter. "There," Ray pointed out
the youth who was playing spades with three much older men.
"Okay. Get your son out of here," prompted Larkin.
With his heart pounding, Ray tapped Parker on the
shoulder. Parker turned around and exclaimed, "Mr.
Reynolds!"
Ray commanded gently, "Get your things. I'm taking you
home with me."
Parker protested, "We haven't got the test results back yet. I
don't want to be a bother."
"Fooyay! You and I both know what those tests are going
to confirm."
Larkin slid her hand up Ray’s arm in a calming caress.
Parker surveyed the very pretty auburn-haired woman beside
Ray, and Larkin smiled softly at the young man who had her
husband's eyes. Ray came to his senses and introduced the two.
"Larkin, this is Parker Godchaux, the young man I told you
about. Parker, this is my wife, Larkin."
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Reynolds," said Parker formally
as he offered a shaky hand.
Larkin took his hand and felt calluses on seventeen-yearold hands that should have been almost baby soft. "Larkin,
please," she said compassionately.
Parker gave a curt nod. "Larkin, you can't seriously want
me in your home."
"Why not?"
"Mr. Reynolds said he told you about me."
Ray grunted, "Ray—for now."
"Yes, he did," Larkin responded. "That's precisely why I
want you in my home. If you are, indeed, Ray's son, you'll be
most welcome. On the other hand, if Robert LaFontaine proves
to be your father, well, we were once friends, and you'll still be
welcome."
"Mr. LaFontaine is
not
a nice person," said Parker matterof-factly. "I hope he's not my father."
Larkin laughed softly. "Yes, he was most definitely a jerk.
Now, get your things because Ray isn't a jerk."
"No, he seems nice enough," said Parker as he made eye
contact with Larkin. Then, he looked at Ray. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely," Ray replied with a nod.
Parker turned to the older card players who had been
listening intently. "Excuse me, guys. You'll need to find
another player. I'm gonna sleep in a real bed tonight." Parker
disappeared and returned a minute later with a backpack.
"That's it?" asked Ray.
"Yes, sir."
Outside, Ray said, "Get your bike and follow us. Where'd
you get it?"
"I stole it, of course."
Ray stopped and looked at the boy with raised eyebrows as
he asked, "Really?"
"No, but I had a hard time convincing the cops in Kenner of
that. I saved up money from odd jobs and bought her. She
didn't even run. I fixed her up. She purrs now." Parker beamed
with pride.
"Sounds as if it's in the blood," joked Larkin. "Ray restores
old cars," she explained.
"Really?" asked Parker as his face lit up in curiosity and
excitement.
"Yes, I'll show you," Ray said, "but I don't think it's in the
blood. Raif doesn't tinker with old cars. He would get too
dirty."
"Who's Raif?" asked Parker.
Ray answered, "My twin brother."
Larkin said, "Raif builds miniature villages with miniature
people and animals—all to scale. He has a Victorian village
that he displays in his front yard at Christmas. He even has
Christmas carols playing."
"Awesome!" Parker said, showing that he was still very
much a little boy on some levels.
His outburst stung Larkin's eyes with tears as she realized
this child had not had a good life. She asked gently, "Parker,
where's your mother?"
He shrugged. "I last saw her about a year ago just before
the judge put me in another foster home."
"Did you run away?" asked Ray.
Parker snorted. "Yes. I've only been in this home a couple
of weeks. I just got out of"—He stepped back, unsure of the
response he might get—"juvey."
"For what?" asked Ray.
"This time?" Parker asked.
Ray arched an eyebrow. "Just how many times have you
been to juvey?"
"Several."
Can't lie to him. He's a cop and could find out
anyway.
He shrugged, hands held out to his sides. "Usually just
overnight or a week in a nothing environment, but this last time
was six months in maximum juvey, you know, reform school."
He raised his eyebrows for emphasis. "I'm sure I'll be headed
back after this family reports me missing, if they do. I don't
think they really care. I only have six months until I turn
eighteen. They'll probably just keep quiet, get their check, and
let me pass out of the system and their hair."
Ray's eyes stretched wide open and his brows shot to his
hairline, but he asked, "What exactly did you do to get six
months in reform school?"
"I hit my foster father, and I'm not sorry, and I'd do it
again." Defiance permeated Parker's declaration as his every
muscle tensed.
Not a topic for the street
, Ray determined.
Parker said a little bitterly, "Now, I'll just go back inside
because I'm sure you don’t want me to go with you."
"Follow us," Ray said. "You have a lot to learn about this
family."
"Umm…" Parker hesitated.
Ray shook his head. "No discussion." There was no threat
in his voice, but his tone brooked no argument.
In the car, Ray looked at Larkin, his jaw clenching and
unclenching. "Chill," she said, rubbing her husband's arm.
"There's a long story ahead of us tonight."