“Can you tell me about them?” Evangeline asked.
Nella’s eyes searched her face. “They were beautiful,” she said. “Like angels.”
“Could you walk me through what you saw that day? I know it’s been a long time, but just tell me what you remember.”
She set the plastic bowl on the porch and straightened. For a moment, Evangeline thought the older woman had chosen not to speak with her, but then she realized that Nella was lost in thought. Her eyes grew distant and her facial muscles slackened as she worked her way back in time. And then she shuddered deeply.
“The first thing I noticed was the silence. All those children and there wasn’t any racket at all. It was unnatural, like the stillness of a tomb.”
Slowly, she took Evangeline through the story, her recollection of that day so vivid that Evangeline could picture the scene in her mind as they walked from room to room, searching for some sign of the children.
Evangeline had been in that house the day before, so she knew those rooms. She knew the quiet of that house, the eerie echo of all those tormented whispers and screams.
“When I came back into the hallway, I heard a sound coming from the room beneath the stairs. I opened the door and found one of the girls inside. I didn’t know which one she was, though. They looked so much alike, I was never able to tell them apart.”
“Where was the other girl?”
“I didn’t see her until I went upstairs. She was at the end of the hallway, and when she came toward me, I noticed that she had blood on her clothes. I asked her if she was hurt, but she said Jacob had got the blood on her when he grabbed her dress. I asked her then if Jacob was hurt, and she said—I’ll never forget this—she said, ‘Jacob doesn’t hurt anymore.’ That’s when it hit me. The realization of what Mary Alice had done. And all I could think was that I had to get those two little girls out of there before she came back. No matter what, I had to save them.”
“What about the baby?” Evangeline asked.
Nella’s face went deathly white. “What do you know about the baby?”
“I know the body was never found. The sheriff in Torrence seems to think that Mary Alice threw him in the swamp.”
Nella put her hands to her face.
“I’m sorry,” Evangeline said. “I know this is up-setting to you. Maybe it’ll help if I tell you the reason I need to know about that baby. Someone is killing off all the male members of the Lemay family because they think evil is being passed on through the genes. I know it sounds crazy, like some weird science fiction movie or something, but three men have been murdered in cold blood. An uncle and two cousins. If that baby lived, his life would be in danger. And if he had male children, their lives would be in danger, as well. I don’t want any more bloodshed in that family. I don’t think you do, either.”
Nella’s hands dropped and she slowly looked up. “You have it all wrong.”
“I do?”
She searched Evangeline’s face. “What makes you think that baby was a boy?” she finally asked.
“Just an assumption, I guess. Are you telling me it was a girl?”
“Yes. The baby Mary Alice gave birth to that morning was a little girl.”
Evangeline frowned. “And she lived?”
Nella closed her eyes and nodded. “She was alive the last time I saw her.”
“When was that?”
“I found her in the room beneath the stairs with one of her sisters. I left them there while I went upstairs to look around. When I came back down, the baby was alone in the room. Ruth and Rebecca had vanished.”
“What did you do?”
“There wasn’t a phone at the house so I took the baby with me to go call for help. When the sheriff got there, he found Mary Alice and the girls sitting on the front steps, all dressed up as if they were ready for church. It was a sight he said he would never forget as long as he lived.”
“And the baby?”
“I took her.”
Evangeline felt a punch of dread in her stomach. “What do you mean, you took her?”
“The sheriff asked me to find her a good home. We were both afraid of what would happen to her if she was put in the system. Who would adopt a child coming from that kind of background? With that kind of stigma? My best friend’s sister had been trying for years to have another baby. She’d suffered one miscarriage after the other. When I told the sheriff about her, he said to make the arrangements and he would see to a birth certificate.”
Evangeline could feel something dark growing and swelling inside her. The dread started in the pit of her stomach and mushroomed up through her chest. “What was the woman’s name?”
“I’m trying to remember her married name. It’s been years since we kept in touch.”
But she knew. The truth was in her eyes, in the tremble of her lips. She knew.
And so did Evangeline.
“The woman’s name was Jennings,” Nella whispered. “Lynette Jennings.”
Evangeline’s heart was in her throat as she drove like a bat out of hell to her mother’s house.
To Lynette Jennings’s house.
Her real mother was Mary Alice Lemay. Her veins were tainted with Mary Alice’s blood. Her DNA was encoded with Charles Lemay’s genes.
And now those same genes had been passed down to her son. And because of his heritage, his life could be in danger.
Evangeline pressed the cell phone to her ear, willing her mother to pick up. When she heard Lynette’s voice, a myriad of emotions swirled through her head. Anger. Betrayal. Disbelief. No time for any of that now, though. Later, there would be reckoning, but the only thing that mattered now was her son.
“Mom?” How strange it seemed to call her that now.
“Listen to me. I think J.D. could be in danger—”
Evangeline gripped the phone as a string of questions erupted from Lynette. “No, Mom…just listen. I don’t have time to explain.” She realized she was yelling into the phone, and she drew a quick breath, trying to calm herself. “You need to make sure all the doors are locked, and don’t let anyone inside. I’m calling Mitchell as soon as we hang up. He may get there before I do.”
“Evangeline, honey, what is going on—”
“Mom, please, just do as I say. I’ll explain everything as soon as I can.”
Evangeline’s mind raced as she accelerated through the busy streets. All she could think about at the moment was making sure J.D. was safe.
But a voice kept pounding away inside her.
Jesus. Christ.
She came from a long line of cold-blooded murderers.
How the hell was she supposed to wrap her head around that?
J.D. was all that mattered. She couldn’t let herself think of anything but saving her son. Her precious little boy.
“I’m coming,” she whispered.
Lynette didn’t need a premonition to warn her something bad was about to happen. Her daughter’s fear had been palpable. Someone wanted to hurt J.D., but they’d have to get past Lynette first. She might not be the best mother in the world, but she was no coward when it came to her children and their children. She would fight to the death to protect any of them.
She ran down the hallway to the bedroom where she kept J.D.’s crib. Flinging open the door, she froze on the threshold, her heart in her throat.
A woman glanced up as she lifted J.D. into her arms. She was blond and thin and pale, and something that might have been a memory wormed through Lynette’s terror. Did she know this woman?
