The Whispering Room (20 page)

 

That evening, Evangeline carried the baby monitor out to the front porch and sat down on the top step. She remembered sitting there the night before when all she had to worry about was a strange car in the neighborhood and whether or not to believe the outrageous story that Lena Saunders had told her.

She still didn't know whether to believe that story. But one thing was certain. Lena Saunders had led her to the truth about Johnny.

Her eyes burned with fatigue and unshed tears, but she wouldn't give in to her emotions. She'd never been the type to wallow in despair, not even in the aftermath of Johnny's shooting. She had J.D. to think of. She was all he had left.

Down the block, a car door opened and closed, and Evangeline watched as a man crossed the street and started up the sidewalk toward her house. Her
gun was on the porch beside her, and she put her hand over the weapon and kept it there until he'd turned up her sidewalk and she recognized who he was.

Nash paused as their gazes met in the twilight. Then he slowly closed the distance to the porch and climbed the steps.

She turned her head up to him. “How long have you been sitting out there?”

“A while. I wanted to make sure you'd gotten home all right.”

“Don't your agents give you a report?”

“I guess I wanted to see for myself.” He hesitated. “I'll leave if you want.”

“Suit yourself. I don't care one way or the other.”

He still hesitated before finally lowering himself to the step beside her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What's there to talk about? My husband was on the take and I never suspected a thing. All I want to know now is how I could have been so blind.”

“Don't beat yourself up. You didn't do anything wrong.”

“Good thing stupidity's not a crime.”

He planted his forearms on his thighs and gazed out into the gathering darkness. “For what it's worth, I understand a little of how you must be feeling. I know what it's like to be disillusioned about the person you trusted most in the world.”

“You don't know how I feel right now.”

“I know about betrayal. I was married to a woman for fifteen years,” he said. “I thought we had the perfect marriage. Then one day, out of the blue, she told me she wanted a divorce. She said she hadn't been happy for a really long time, and she needed to find herself while she still had her youth. That's actually what she said to me.”

Evangeline turned to stare at him.

He gave her a little sideways smile. “That's not the worst part. I thought with a little time, a little space, we'd be able to work things out. A few weeks after she left, I found out she was already living with her boss. They'd been having an affair for nearly a year. He was married, too, and he and his wife went through a nasty divorce because of Deb. Both families got dragged through the mud before it was all said and done. The fallout nearly ruined my career. The bureau tends to frown on a messy personal life.”

“How did you get over it?”

“It took a long time and I made a lot of stupid mistakes along the way. But the worst part is what all that did to our daughter. She's still paying the price for what we put her through.”

“How old is she?”

He turned back to the darkness. “She just turned twenty a couple of months ago. We celebrated her birthday at the Louisiana Correctional Institute in Saint Gabriel.”

Evangeline turned in surprise. “She's an inmate?”

“For her eighteenth birthday, she and her friends went out partying. They were all well over the legal limit, but Jamie was the one driving that night. She veered into the wrong lane and hit a car head-on. The other driver was killed instantly. Two of the girls in the car with Jamie were critically injured. Jamie suffered a concussion and a broken leg. She was still on crutches when she was convicted of vehicular manslaughter and sentenced to ten years in prison. She'll be eligible for parole in another two.”

Evangeline had no idea what to say to that. “My brother's an ex-con. He served nearly seven years in Angola for robbing a convenience store. My parents were devastated. I don't think they ever got over it.”

“I don't think I ever will, either,” he said quietly.

They fell silent for the longest time as night settled over the neighborhood. Heat lightning shimmered in the distance as the breeze off the river kicked up. It was the kind of night that always made Evangeline feel lonely and lost.

“I should go,” Nash said beside her. It was almost a question.

She nodded.

“Are you going to be all right?”

She tried to smile. “I guess that's the upside to having someone knock on your door and tell you
your husband is dead. I've already survived the worst night of my life. I'll get through this, too.”

He fished a card from his pocket and laid it on the porch beside her. “This is my number. If you need anything…”

“I won't. But thanks.”

He rose and walked down the porch steps. When he got to the bottom, she said his name and he turned to glance up at her.

“Why did you really come here tonight?”

He hesitated, glanced out over the yard and then his gaze came back to her. “Because I wanted to see you.”

And then he turned and walked off into the darkness while Evangeline sat hugging her knees, an odd little catch in her chest.

 

She didn't think she'd be able to sleep, but it was funny how exhaustion and mental anguish could sometimes be your best friend.

After checking on J.D., Evangeline curled up in bed, staring into the darkness as her thoughts tumbled one over another.

She thought about all those pictures of Johnny and Sonny Betts, the meticulous surveillance documentation, the tapped phone conversations that the FBI had assembled against her husband.

She thought about her parents' troubled marriage and the hell that Vaughn had put them through.
They'd survived untold heartache over the years only to end up separated because her father was restless and her mother was not an easy woman to love.

She thought about the night J.D. had been born and the day she'd brought him home from the hospital, and she wondered if she would ever be able to love him the way he deserved to be loved.

She thought about the bizarre story Lena Saunders had told her about two little girls named Ruth and Rebecca. One innocent, one a murderer.

She thought about origami cranes and the man with the scarred face.

And just before she fell asleep, she thought of Declan Nash. He had a daughter named Jamie and an ex-wife named Deb.

And he had come to Evangeline's house tonight because he wanted to see her.

 

Sometime later, Evangeline awakened to a strange sound. This time she knew it wasn't the television because she hadn't turned it on. The sound was again coming from the baby monitor on her bedside table.

But there was no music this time. What she heard was the sound of J.D. fretting and a strange woman's voice soothing him that chilled her blood.

“Shush. She'll hear you.”

A
woman leaned over the railing of J.D.'s crib. She was on the opposite side from the door, away from the night-light, and for a moment she seemed no more than a ghostly outline that blended seamlessly into the shadows.

Evangeline blinked, praying the mirage would disappear even as she gripped her weapon in both hands and took aim. Her heart hammered so hard she could scarcely breathe, but her finger on the trigger was steady.

“Move away from the crib!”

Slowly, the woman looked up, but she didn't step away or even straighten. Her face was hidden by a cowl of blond hair that fell forward from a center part. There was something strange and otherworldly about her featureless visage, and Evangeline felt the coldest kind of dread settle in the pit of her stomach.

“Step back,” she said, “before I blow your fucking head off.”

The woman's hands were inside the crib, and as she straightened, she lifted J.D. over the rail and held him in front of her. “There, there,” she crooned.

Panic exploded in Evangeline's chest. She wanted desperately to keep a clear head, but even after hearing the woman's voice coming from the baby monitor, she had never expected to find anything like this. She didn't know what to do. Terror had momentarily disabled all her training and common sense.

Think, Evangeline. For God's sakes, use your head.

Okay, options.

Without a clear shot, the gun was useless. Besides, she would never dare chance even a warning shot with the baby so close. Nor could she risk trying to get to the phone. Any sudden move might set the woman off.

So at the moment, there were no options, Evangeline quickly concluded. She and J.D. were at this person's mercy.

The baby roused and whimpered, then dropped his little head against the woman's shoulder as she began to massage his back. She hummed the music box tune, and the haunting melody sent a chill up Evangeline's already frozen spine.

“Please,” she whispered. “Just give me the baby and leave. I don't know who you are or what you
want….” Her voice cracked and she took a moment to get herself under control. “Just put him down and walk away.”

“You don't have to be afraid. I'm not going to hurt him. I would never do that.”

“Prove it,” Evangeline pleaded. “Give him to me.”

As she took a step into the room, the woman eased farther back into the shadows. “Not yet.” Her hand continued to make circles on J.D.'s back. He sniveled in his sleep, and she held him even closer then kissed the top of his head. “Put your gun on the dresser and move back to the door.”

When Evangeline hesitated, the woman said, “Please, just do as I say. Guns are so dangerous. If anything were to happen to this precious baby, you'd never be able to live with yourself.”

“Okay, okay. I'll do anything you say. Just please don't hurt him.” Evangeline put the gun on the dresser and then stepped back into the doorway.

The woman moved over to the window and the nebulous silhouette that had been almost invisible in the shadows took on a real form in the glow of moonlight that seeped in through the glass. She was only a few steps away, and Evangeline wondered if she could rush her and grab J.D. before she had time to hurt him.

It was a chance she wasn't willing to take. Not yet.

Evangeline scrutinized the intruder. She was
pale and thin, and she wore a plain, dark skirt, shapeless cardigan and tennis shoes. With her free hand, she pushed one side of her long, thick hair from her face, and it tumbled in a tangled, blond mess over one shoulder.

“What do you want?” Evangeline asked in a calm, reasonable tone. “Tell me so we can end this.”

“I have a story to tell you.”

Evangeline swallowed. “Okay. But why don't you put the baby in the crib. We can talk in the other room.”

She smiled over the top of J.D.'s head. “I think it would be better if we talk in here.”

“We might wake up the baby. You don't want to do that.”

“But without the baby, you won't listen to me. And if you don't know the whole story, you won't be able to understand. So far, you've only heard
her
side.”

“Her?”

“My sister.” She looked up and the light from the window caught her in such a way that Evangeline saw another face, also thin and pale, but more refined. More elegant.

The resemblance in that moment was so uncanny, she didn't know why she hadn't seen it right off.

“You're Rebecca,” she said softly. “And Lena Saunders is your sister, Ruth.”

Why hadn't the woman told her the truth? Evangeline wondered. Why pretend she was someone
else? Lena Saunders and Ruth Lemay were one and the same. And now Evangeline stood facing Rebecca Lemay. What kind of strange game were the sisters playing with her?

Rebecca Lemay nuzzled the top of J.D.'s head and drew a deep breath, as if trying to drink in the very essence of the sleeping child.

And Evangeline went weak in the knees.
Dear God.

According to Lena Saunders—Ruth Lemay—this was a woman who, as a child, had helped her mother murder one of their young brothers. This was a woman who, as an adult, had killed at least three men in cold blood.

And now she held Evangeline's sleeping son in her arms. Her cheek was against the baby's head as she rocked him back and forth.

Chill after chill swept over Evangeline. The scene before her seemed surreal. It couldn't possibly be happening, and yet…it was.

Outside the window behind Rebecca Lemay, the sky darkened to cinder and Evangeline could see heat lightning in the distance. Her gaze lit on the weapon she'd placed on the dresser. It was so close and yet as useless as a severed limb.

“How did you get in here?” she asked.

“The girl who watches the baby…I saw her put the key underneath a rock by your front porch.”

So she'd used Jessie's key to let herself into the
house. Evangeline thought about the molted snakeskin she'd found, and her heart pounded even harder. “Have you been in here before?”

“It doesn't matter,” Rebecca said. “The only thing that matters now is that you hear my side of the story.”

“Okay. I'm listening.”

Her cheek still rested on J.D.'s head as she cradled him snugly against her bosom. “It was a long time ago, but I still remember everything about that day. Mama was acting so strange. I didn't understand why, but I sensed something bad was about to happen. For days, I'd had this awful tightness in my chest. It was like trying to breathe underwater. I even dreamed one night that I was drowning….” She cuddled J.D. even closer and he whimpered again in his sleep.

Please,
Evangeline prayed.
Please, please don't hurt him.

“Mama hadn't really been herself since Daddy left, but this was different. It was like…something had taken hold of her. Possessed her…” She paused to draw a long breath. “She started cleaning the house like a mad woman. I thought company might be coming, but we never had visitors. Even the church people stopped calling. Mama always kept a spotless home, but that day she scrubbed and mopped and dusted until every room sparkled. She worked at it for hours, on into the night. I could hear her down
stairs after we'd put the boys to bed. Working and working. She and my sister. When I went down to see about them, they were on their hands and knees, scrubbing the same floor Mama had mopped that very afternoon. She didn't even look up at me, but my sister told me to go on back to bed and leave them alone. They had work to do and I was too little to help.”

Her voice had gotten slightly higher as she told the story, and the years seemed to melt from her face so that Evangeline could see clearly the child from the photograph. A little girl whose innocence had been so fractured by her mother's obsession that she was never going to be whole.

She was still looking at Evangeline, but her eyes were losing their focus as she slipped back into the past.

“I woke up just after dawn and my sister's bed was empty. I figured she and Mama were still working. I got up and dressed. When I came out into the hallway, I heard a sound from Mama's bedroom. Like a moan or a soft cry. I didn't know what to make of it. I was scared to go in there and see, and yet I couldn't stay away. I thought Mama might need me. So I eased down the hallway and opened her door.”

Evangeline stood motionless in the doorway. Their gazes made contact, but somehow she knew the woman couldn't see her. Her features were slack
and her voice had taken on the numb monotone of someone under hypnosis.

“The sheets were covered with blood. I thought Mama must have hurt herself and now she might be dying. But then I saw my sister at the foot of the bed. She had a doll in her arms, and I couldn't understand why she would be playing house with Mama lying there hurt so bad. Then I heard the doll cry and I realized that it was a baby. Mama had just given birth. That seemed so strange to me because I didn't even know she was…that way. I wanted to see the baby, but my sister said no. That would just make everything so much harder. She told me to go back to our room and close the door. She'd come get me when it was over.”

“When what was over?” Evangeline asked in a hushed voice. Because she knew. She already knew what was coming.

Rebecca Lemay fell silent for a moment, her face in silhouette as she half turned to the window. “When Mama…when it started, I didn't understand what was happening at first. Not until I saw…” She trailed off on a deep shudder that racked her whole body. “Then all I could think about was saving that baby. So I took it downstairs and crawled into the whispering room.”

“What's the whispering room?” Evangeline's heart was still thudding against her chest.

“It was a little space underneath the stairs where
Mama used to make us go when she needed some peace and quiet. We weren't allowed to make any racket in there. All we could do was whisper. I stayed in there for a long time with the baby. Until all the screaming finally stopped.”

Until all the screaming stopped.

The taste of bile filled her mouth as she pictured that horrifying scene.

Rebecca Lemay took a step forward, her eyes wide and shimmering and childlike. “You understand what I'm telling you, don't you? It didn't happen like she said. It wasn't me. It was her. My sister, Ruth. She was the one who always helped Mama take care of the boys.”

It took a moment for Evangeline to fully comprehend her meaning. “How did she help take care of them?”

“She dressed them in the morning and combed their hair for church and listened to their prayers at bedtime. She even read them Bible stories when Mama had the headache. She was Mama's little helper. God's little warrior. That's what Mama always called her.”

“What else did she do?”

Rebecca Lemay's eyes gleamed with madness. “She helped Mama save them.”