PARDON THE INTERRUPTION PART 8 by WendyJo
Suddenly breaking free from the deputy...

Sam was slobbering, delusional, wild-eyed. The little monkey-like man reeked of V.O. and B.O., the twin scents intertwined together in a dance of death for the nearest olfactory sense. Intermittently mumbling and shrieking, he turned to Anna and screamed, "DIILL, DILLLLYY PICKLES!!! Atticus, Atticus!!! Let down your hair!!! Save our Hostess Ho Ho's!!" He lurched over to Anna and squeezed her upper arm. Leering at her, he whispered in a split-second moment of clarity- "Fear the curse-" Anna gave a surprised jump away from Sam and pulled her arm back to herself.

Deputy Kaelin and the other deputy surrounded Sam, pulled his long arms behind his back and handcuffed them. "Enough excitement for everyone today, Sam", Kaelin brusquely voiced. The deputies led Sam away to the cruiser. "Bubba, take Sam to Lock-Up with Stan. For twenty four hours. Now."

Deputy Kaelin walked back to Anna. "Ma'am, I want to apologize for both Stan's and Sam's behavior. When they get their juice on, neither Sears brand appliance nor man is safe. Let me just take you home. Shall we set a date for tomorrow, same time, same place? Bubba will go to the diner and pick up your vehicle for you in the morning."

Dusk was settling into this small dusty town in the middle of nowhere, Alabama, and Anna was shaken and exhausted. "Yes, thank you, Deputy Kaelin." she replied. "This will give you an opportunity to look at the voodoo fetish left at my front door."

Kaelin held the cruiser door open for Anna. "Deputy," Anna began, "I think I deserve an explanation--is there some sort of story behind this pin?"

Deputy Kaelin gave a nervous chuckle. "I'll tell you all that I know, Ms. Montoya."

Turning down the road, Kaelin began. "Recall this was back in '44. Anthony stumbled upon the bodies of Rose and Clyde, this we know. He then placed one phone call from the crime scene to Sheriff McHaney to report the gruesome discovery. When Sheriff McHaney arrived on scene Anthony was nowhere to be found. He would later discover that the daughter, Sara, had also mysteriously vanished. At the outset of the investigation Sheriff McHaney searched the room in town where Anthony was staying. Everything was in place and the owners had seen no one coming or going. Not even Anthony. The only thing of interest found was a receipt for the sale of the pin you now own. As you know, the pin belonged to Rose, but someone, on the day of her death, had pawned it to a local shop along with another piece, a pendant. This pendant, according to the tradesman, was a sister piece being that it complimented the pin and the two could be worn together. Upon questioning the shop owner the Sheriff found out two things. One, the person who sold the pieces was not Anthony and two, the pendant had already been sold to a cash paying customer. The Sheriff confiscated your pin as evidence. As fate would have it, he would not be re-elected for another term and his successor classified the case a murder/suicide and closed the file. Your pin wound up on the auction block as the result of a thorough Spring cleaning of the evidence room. There's some gossip around town claiming that pin is cursed. Don't believe the old biddies around these parts, they'll tell a tale taller than any self-respecting fisherman. As to this memento mori that you speak of, I've never heard of such." He scoffed.

Anna had a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that Kaelin was holding something back. "But you will see," she said. "At my front door."

But when they arrived at Anna's, the fetish had disappeared. The area was wiped clean, like nothing had been there. What the hell kind of place is this? Had it all been in her mind? Anna began to bluster in frustration and anger. "It was here! There was blood....it was disgusting! What happened?"

Deputy Kaelin soothed to her, "It's been quite a day. You have been in an accident, you hit your head on the dashboard. Get some rest, and we'll talk some more tomorrow. Joe's Diner, 7 P.M., OK?"

"Fine, fine," Anna sighed. "Tomorrow."

Anna unlocked her door, walked inside, and dropped her keys with a soft clinking sound into a dish on the oak console table in the foyer. Her footsteps echoed in the hallway of her empty, darkened home. She turned into the doorway of her small home office and sat down at her computer workdesk. She turned on the lamp and slumped at her chair, elbows on the desktop. Exhausted, her mind wandered over the events of the day.

Who would have ever guessed that her move to this town would have been so stressful? The very reason she moved to Opelika was to escape from the painful memories of her recent divorce, the express-train speed of city life, and the pressures of an editorial position at the Times-Journal. This move was intended to be a return to her roots and to an inner peace, as it were. She pulled the pin out of her purse and held it up in the low light of the lamp. The beautiful 1920 Deco piece gave off a soft glow, each stone with its own reflection, and seemingly its own story to tell. She turned the pin over and once again read the engraving. "Omnia vincit amor", she whispered to herself. And now a possible pendant, "Memento mori". One, the gift of love, the other, a reminder of death....the mysterious murder/suicide of Rose and Clyde in 1944...the jogger...and why did Sam yell "Atticus, Atticus" this afternoon? With a slight smile, Anna thought back to Mr. Bud and young Lily at the auction house. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Mr. Bud did remind her a bit of a Bob Ewell type. Was Sam trying to tell her or warn her about something? Or was it just the V.O. talking? And aahh yes, the jeweler Kaelin mentioned. Anna wasn't about to wait till tomorrow night and her dinner with Kaelin for more explanation. After finding that voodoo curse, her own life may very well be in danger. She was going to do some investigating on her own. Opening a desk drawer, she pulled out a phone book. Running her finger down a page, she found where she would start asking questions in the morning....

Dealer Dan's Pawn, Tackle and Munitions

---One Stop, Sell and Shop---

(334) 887-6777

Hopefully, the business would have records and or still be in the family of the original owner and someone would know the story and be able to help. Anna's eyelids grew heavier and heavier. She slowly laid her head down on top of her desk, and began to dream a colorful dream, full of shifting and haunting images...

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Septembre, 1920

Rue de Lombards, Paris, France

Sixteen year old Rose Haygood stood by herself in the corner of the nightclub, nervously fingering an errant curl on the side of her newly bobbed hair. Brassy jazz music filled the air as bright young things, fresh and alive, danced the Charleston, heels kicking and necklaces swinging, bottles of wine free-flowing. Rose, the daughter of a wealthy Alabama landowner and textiles magnate, had managed to slip away from the watchful eyes of both her mother and nanny, and she wanted to experience Paris at its fullest. America and Europe were breaking away from staid Edwardian beliefs and prohibition, and Rose wanted to be in the middle of the explosion. Paris, the city of light and of love, was the growing center for the bohemian lifestyle. Alabama was soo flat tire, Rose thought in a huff. Thank goodness she was able to convince her old dapper of the need for a coming-of-age trip to Europe. Through a series of crafty maneuvers and the use of her private-school French, she had been able to escape her family and run off for the evening. Wouldn't it be a real hoot if they sent a private dick after her? She would catch it when she got back to the Ritz-Paris in the morning, but it was worth it.

The band started up again in a fresh and frenetic new tempo. Rose was so flushed with excitement and the urge to dance; she was practically shimmying in place in her t-strap heels. Smoothly weaving through the middle of the pulsing throng of people came a tall, sultry, dark complected young man, full of the attitude of those born to a privileged existence. He stepped in front of Rose, gave a slight bow, and held out his hand.

"Pouvons-nous danser?" he asked, the question slightly tinged with a New Orleans Creole accent.


to be continued......