Edith's youngest daughter, Barbara, the one who was attending LSU, grinned a lot, and the grinning made Edith angry. Sissy, the oldest daughter, the one with two children, was fascinated with the idea that she had a half-sister and asked many questions. Neither Edith nor Jo-el revealed that the child she'd had was now the actress known as Jodi Taylor. Edith no longer wanted to keep secrets about herself, but other people's secrets were a different matter.
Truths were coming out, and the world was making its adjustments.
On the fourth day after the events at Milt Rossier's crawfish farm, I was waiting for Lucy in the Riverfront Ho-Jo's lobby when the day clerk gave me an envelope. He said that it had been left at the front desk, but he didn't know by whom. It was a plain white envelope, the kind you could buy in any drugstore, and "Mr. E. Cole" was typed on the front.
I sat in one of the lobby chairs and opened it. Inside was a typed note:
Mr. Cole,
I regret that I am unable to return the photograph as promised. An associate identified the gentleman, and, as you know, we have acted accordingly. I hope you do not think me small for exceeding the parameters of our association. As I told Mr. Pike, the man with the rifle is always there. Regrettably, the child remains unknown, but perhaps now there will be fewer such children.
There was no signature, but there didn't need to be.
I folded the letter and put it away as Lucy crossed the lobby. The Ho-Jo door was flooded with a noonday light so bright that Lucy seemed to emerge from a liquid sun. She said, "Hi."
"Hi."
"You ready?"
"Always."
We went out to her Lexus and drove to the airport. It was hot, but the sky was a deep blue and vividly clear except for a single puff of white to the east. Lucy held my hand. She released me to steer through a turn, then immediately took my hand again. I said, "I'm going to miss you, Lucy."
"Oh, me, too, Studly."
"Ben, too."
She glanced at me and smiled. "Please let's not talk about the leaving. We still have time."
I kissed her hand.
We turned into airport parking and went into the terminal, still holding hands, walking as close as two people can walk, as if the most important thing in the world was to occupy the same space and share the same moment. We checked the flight information. I said, "The plane's here."
We walked to the concourse, and I didn't like it much. In a few days we'd make this drive and walk again, only then I would be leaving. I tried not to think about it.
We met Jodi Taylor as she came off the plane. She was wearing jeans and a satin vest over a red top, and she was clearly Jodi Taylor. Not hiding now. The pilot was falling all over himself to walk with her, and a guy in a charcoal suit was trying to cut in on the pilot. She looked nervous.
I said, "Pardon us, gentlemen," and led her away from them.
Lucy said, "How're you doing?"
Jodi nodded. "I'm okay." She didn't look okay. She looked the way you might look if you'd spent the past couple of days with an upset stomach.
A little girl in a Brownie uniform approached. She was holding what looked like a napkin and a ballpoint pen. Her mother had encouraged her. The little girl said, "Miss Taylor, may I have your autograph?"
"Sure, honey." Jodi signed the napkin and tried to smile, but the smile looked weak. Nervous, all right.
When the little girl was gone, I took Jodi's hand. "You sure you want this?"
"Yes," she said. "Yes, I'm sure."
"What about Sid and Beldon?"
Jodi's face grew hard. "I know what I want."
Lucy took Jodi's other hand, and we walked out of the airport.
We brought Jodi to pick up Edith, and then the four of us went to visit Chantel Michot. I had called in advance and Chantel was waiting. There was a lot they wanted to talk about.
![Voodoo River pic_2.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/110350/read/images/pic_2.jpg)