False Pretenses - Kathy Herman [28]
Jude started to follow him, but Aimee grabbed his arm. “He can throw up without you. Maybe he’ll feel better. It’s probably a combination of booze and shock.”
Jude sighed. “Truthfully I can’t get the image of Remy hanging from a tree out of my mind. I’m glad Emile was on the river when it happened. No father should have to witness that.”
“He had to identify Remy’s body,” Aimee said. “I’m sure he’s imagined the whole thing a hundred times over.”
“I’ll never forget it.” Jude’s mind flashed back to the red cap on the ground—and the shocking realization that followed. He replaced the image with one of Remy crossing the finish line at the Special Olympics.
“People will be up in arms,” Aimee said. “Not just because Remy was the victim, but because a white man was targeted. The media is calling it a lynching, even if we’re not.”
Jude drew a circle on the table with his finger. “I didn’t deny it was racially motivated. But the word lynching never crossed my lips. And I didn’t confirm the note. It’s all speculation.”
“Sheriff, the man who called the radio station knew what was in the note word for word. We’ve got the recording of his voice, but he called from an untraceable cell phone.” Aimee sighed, fatigue making her look older than her thirty-nine years. “The public believes the caller. Maybe it’s time to confirm it and make an appeal for people to use restraint. We don’t have enough manpower to keep the peace.”
“Fair enough. I’ll go public with it. Police Chief Norman has already borrowed officers from Lafayette and New Iberia PDs. If we work together, we’ll be ready, whatever the response.”
Jude took his phone off his belt clip and scanned through his messages until Emile came back and resumed his place at the table.
“Sorry,” Emile said. “My stomach’s in a wad.”
“No need to apologize,” Jude said. “This has to be a nightmare for you. We promise not to keep you long. We just need to ask a few questions. Did Remy have any close friends?”
“Jus’ me and his kin. Other folks took a likin’ to him though. He couldn’t go anywheres widout someone strikin’ up a conversation.”
“Were the exchanges always positive?” Jude said. “Or did some people talk down to Remy because he was slow?”
“Most folks were kind. Sometimes kids laughed at him or got scared o’ him because he was different.”
“Could you walk me through a typical day in Remy’s life?”
Emile stared at his hands. “I got him up at four. Put his bike in my truck and drove him down to da Ledger building. He rolled his papers and delivered ’em, den rode his bike home and was back by seven. I cooked us breakfast. Remy did chores around da house and played video games while I did woodworkin’ in da garage. He rode wid me when I made deliveries. Lots o’ times, before we called it a day, we went to Cypress Park and fed da ducks. We did most everything together.”
“But not today?”
Emile’s eyes brimmed with tears, and he waited until he regained his composure before continuing. “Remy was supposed to ride his bike over to his aunt Sue’s and stay put while I went fishin’ on da river. I took him wid me when we fished for fun, but I needed to do some serious catchin’ today to fill up my freezer. Dat’s a long day for Remy.”
“Your sister, Sue Fontaine?”
Emile nodded. “At first when Remy didn’t show up, Sue thought we got our wires crossed and I’d taken Remy wid me. She tried callin’, but dere’s no cell signal on da river and she couldn’t get through. When she heard about da hangin’, she got scared and reported him missin’.”
“I’m glad she did,” Jude said. “I recognized Remy as the victim right off but had no way of getting in touch with you. Thank the Lord your sister knew you were on the river and would be home by dark. I’m sure your heart sank when you saw my deputies waiting in front of your house when you pulled up.”
“Broke my heart when dey told me what happened. I took da hosepipe and a bar o’ soap and cleaned up on da patio, den put on dry