CHAPTER 44
The drive to Vidalia took less than two hours. My dad had arranged for a limo to take us. Preston was kept entertained by the assortment of toys we had brought along with us. I had fed her before we left in hopes that she wouldn't start her 'num-numming' on the road. I wouldn't have been comfortable nursing her around my father.
Vidalia was a small town with less than five thousand residents. It was quaint and had an attractive river walk along the banks of the Mississippi river. The sign that welcomed travelers into town boasted Vidalia as being the 'sister' city of Natchez, Mississippi directly across the river.
Miss Trinity LaFleur owned a shop in the small downtown area. It was located in an old brick building on the end of the main thoroughfare. My father opened the door of the shop for me and a bell overhead tinkled our entrance.
The shop was not well-lit and had a musty smell to it. The shelving that adorned all of the walls displayed a variety of homemade pottery in various shapes and sizes. They were hand-painted with exquisite landscaped scenes of the river and the town itself. There were glass cases that held a variety of small potted herb plants; various seed mixtures were bagged and labeled. There were books for herbal remedies and holistic healing.
"A little bit of everything it appears," my father commented as we headed to the back of the store.
The aisles were narrow so my main concern was keeping Preston from reaching out to touch the colorful pottery.
A door from behind the glass counter creaked open and a light-skinned black woman appeared.
"May I help you?"
"Are you Miss LaFleur?" my father asked.
"We are expected."
"Oh yes," she replied with a faint smile. "Judge Tylar and Mrs. Sinclair, please come around through here. Trinity is in the parlor."
We followed her down a hallway and entered the room she had gestured to us. She closed the door behind us going back to the storefront.
Miss Trinity LaFleur was not as I had expected. She appeared to be in her early forties which would have made her fairly young at the time of my birth. She was of Creole dissent; dark eyes, hair and creamy pale skin. Her ear lobes boasted multiple piercings from which a variety of long, dangling earrings danced about sounding musical. She had a very exotic look about her.
She came toward us and I noticed she was dressed in an ankle-length silk caftan. She wore socks underneath her laced up leather sandals. Her focus was immediately turned to me as I clutched the baby close.
"You have the essence of Marla," she stated simply taking my free hand into hers.
"It was there at your birth and it still remains."
I wasn't sure exactly what that meant but I decided to take it as a compliment.
"Thank you Miss LaFleur."
"Please call me Trinity. Your mama and I were once very close. We remain close in the spirit world. I assisted in your birthing more than twenty years past. You were born behind a veil. That is always a good sign."
She turned her attention to my father, extending her hand in greeting.
"Judge Tylar," she said, "It is nice to put a face to the voice on the phone. Both of you please sit down."
We did as instructed my father taking a seat in an over-stuffed floral chair; Preston and I sitting on the matching settee. Trinity took her seat beside us.
"Trinity," I said, "Can you explain what you meant by my being born 'behind a veil?' I have no point of reference on that."
She smiled, nodding her head at my confusion.
"Technically you were born with a caul attached to your face. It is a very rare but mystical occurrence. Don't be alarmed by the sound of it please. It is nothing more than part of the amniotic membrane that breaks away and forms tightly against the head during the birthing process. It appears like a translucent veil covering the baby's face."
It sounded totally gross to me and Trinity read my reaction.
"Trust me mon cher' - it is indeed something to be proud of because it does offer some mystical and magical elements. Tell me that you have not had good fortune in your life?"
I thought about it and it was true. I had had the good fortune of loving and being loved by Trey; blessed with a beautiful baby and finally locating my father. But at what cost to my mother?
"I've been blessed in many ways Trinity that is true but never knowing my mother or what happened to her haunts me now."
"Ah yes mon cher and that is what brought you to me. Things unfolded the way that they did for a reason. Do not believe that it is pure coincidence that you and your father sit before me now. There is a purpose to all of this. It is the finishing of the story and proper punishment for the guilty."
Preston was enamored with her soft, melodic voice as was I. She watched the dangling earrings and I shifted her on my lap afraid she might reach over to pull on them as she sometimes did with mine.
Trinity turned her attention to Preston who had begun squirming in my arms wanting free reign.
"And who is ce bel enfant?"
"This is my daughter Preston."
"A very exquisite child," she commented, "I see you are a very proud mama and dare I say the judge is a very proud grand-pere?"
"Je suis effectivement cela," my father responded in perfect French.
I took that as a 'yes' being that I couldn't speak French.
My father took Preston from me allowing me to present Trinity with the plastic bag that held the key and the note that I had found hidden in the jewelry box.
She accepted it from me and read the brief note instructing her to give the envelope to Maggie. Her face grew dark with something that felt like anger.
"I told Marla not to trust that sister of hers! I knew that in the end, Maggie would not cross Matthew."
She shook her head in sorrow.
"If she had only done what Marla requested of her when she knew she was dying perhaps the monster would be behind bars right now."
"He is," my father replied, bouncing Preston on his knee.
Trinity's head snapped up in surprise.
"Then evidence has surfaced about his involvement in Marla's death?"
"I'm afraid not," my father replied.
"He's been arrested on unrelated charges. I think I explained that Maggie confided to Tylar on her deathbed that she felt he had poisoned her the same way that he had poisoned Marley."
"Yes I recall that Judge. But will those unrelated charges keep him in prison for the rest of his miserable life?"
"Perhaps," he replied, "But they won't get him the death penalty."
I looked over at my father's somber expression. He wanted an eye for an eye. He wanted to avenge my mother's murder. I felt the same way.
Trinity rose and went to a tall wooden cabinet in the corner of the parlor. She opened the door and searched the top shelf finally pulling out a small envelope. She handed it to me. It was sealed; 'Maggie' was written on the front.
It was my mother's handwriting. I recognized it from the pages she had written and torn from the notebook.
I opened the sealed envelope and took the folded piece of paper from it. There was a curly lock of hair taped to the paper. It looked like baby hair. The note was short and direct.
Maggie,
Please take this lock of Tylar's hair to Preston in Baton Rouge. Please tell him that he has a daughter and that she needs his protection. The hair will provide the DNA proof that she is his child. He will protect you as well for doing this good deed. Trinity will know what the key opens.
Love,
Marla
The business card that my father had given to my mother before he left was enclosed in the envelope as well.
I handed it over to my father to read. Tears sprang to my eyes as I sat back down and tried to compose myself.
My father looked up first at me and then at Trinity.
"I don't understand why Marley would have trusted Maggie with a task such as this," he said, handing the note to Trinity to read.
She shook her head; her eyes were full of sadness.
"I'm so sorry Judge. Marla was still trying to look out for Maggie in some way it would seem. She knew that Maggie needed to be kept safe from Matthew; she knew that you were one person who could do that."
Trinity wiped an errant tear from her cheek.
"She never shared with me the contents of that envelope there or the contents of the metal box. She said it was family business; it wasn't safe for me to know too much. Marla loved me like a sister but she was a very private person. Why I never knew you were her baby's father until I received your phone call. She did ask me if the key ever found its way to me if I would do what I could to assist."
I was confused; my father appeared to be as well.
"Assist in what way?" I asked.
"In getting the metal box opened," she replied.
"Let's do it then," my father replied standing up holding Preston.
"Can you get the metal box for us?"
"I’m afraid not Judge Tylar," Trinity replied softly.
"Why not?" My dad and I both asked in unison.
"It's hidden inside the casket with Marla."