"He died in that Tet thing." That Tet thing.
"Uh-huh."
She lifted out a white government envelope, its edge ragged from being torn, now yellow and flat from the years in the box. We regret to inform you… There were spots on the envelope. I wondered if they were tears. "They gave him a medal. I wonder where it is."
I shook my head.
Mrs. Williams reappeared at the door. "You are going to be late now."
"I am busy, Ada." Sharp.
Ada shook her finger at me. "You are going to get her in trouble with that Jew."
"Ada!"
Mrs. Williams stalked away.
She said, "Oh, here's some of Leon's things." She lifted out two brown newspaper clippings, the originals to the articles I'd read/on the LSU microfiche, brittle and brown and very likely untouched since the day her mother had cut them from the Ville Platte Gazette and put them in the King Edward box. She took out more bits of paper and photographs and passed them to me. Leon sitting on a tractor that looked a million years old. Leon and a swaybacked mule. There were a couple of Mother's Day cards drawn in a child's hand and signed "Leon," and a poem he had written. She handed me things as she found them, and she was still fingering through the box when I opened a piece of yellowed notebook paper filled with the doodles you make when you're bored in class. Most of the page was class notes about the Louisiana Purchase, but in the borders there were finely detailed pencil drawings of Sherman tanks and World War II fighter planes and the initials EJ EJ EJ. LW+EJ.
I was wondering about EJ when I saw a little heart at the bottom right-hand corner of the page. The kind kids draw when they have a crush on someone. And that's when I knew about EJ, and all the rest of it, too.
Inside the heart Leon Williams had printed I LOVE EDIE JOHNSON.
Edie Johnson. Edie Boudreaux.
Edith Boudreaux wasn't Jodi Taylor's sister. She was Jodi Taylor's mother. And Jodi's father was Leon Williams.
CHAPTER 16
I folded the paper and handed it back to her and twice she spoke and both times I had to ask her to repeat herself. I love Edie Johnson. When we had gone through the rest of the things, she said, "Does any of this help?"
"Yes. I believe it does."
She nodded, pleased that her effort was of value. "You wanna take any of these things, you may."
I smiled. "No. These are your precious things. Keep them safe."
She put the papers back in the King Edward box and closed it. "I wonder if they'll ever catch that man who killed Leon."
"I don't know."
"It's been so long now. I can't imagine anyone would care."
I patted her hand and then I stood. "Somebody cares, Chantel. Somebody somewhere cares. I've always believed that."
She gave me a nice smile and we finished our lemonade and then I left. I followed the back roads north to Ville Platte, checked out of the motel there, then stopped by the Pig Stand and bought a link of boudin for the road. I told Dottie that my business here was finished, and that this would be our last time together. She laughed and told me that I'd be back. She touched the place beneath her eye as she had done before and said she had the second sight. I wished that she would have used it earlier. Jimmie Ray might still be alive.
I ate the boudin as I drove back to Baton Rouge and listened to the same female radio evangelist screaming about plague-carriers from abroad and once more crossed the big Huey Long Bridge and arrived back at the Riverfront Ho-Jo at 1:40 that afternoon.
I didn't bother trying to call Sid Markowitz or Jodi Taylor. I booked the first available flight back to Los Angeles, checked out, then phoned Lucy Chenier's office from the lobby. Darlene said that Lucy was in and asked if I wished to speak with her, but I said no, that I was at the Riverfront and would walk over. Ten minutes later I rode the elevator to the Sonnier, Melancon amp; Burke offices. Lucy's smile was wide and bright, and she seemed glad to see me. Something ached in my chest when I looked at her, and the ache increased when I took her hand. I said, "I think I've come to the end of the line on this and there are some things we need to talk