*Author's Note: Any persons engaging in sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
*
2002.
A forty two year old Jeff Tait smiled as he pushed his cart around the grocery store. Tomorrow he was driving down to Kenner, Louisiana to pick up his three year old daughter. This meant he had to stock up on the goodies; juice and animal crackers and other things that a three year old needed.
He stopped to look at the meats and saw his reflection in the long mirror behind the counter. His blonde hair was cut short; his brown eyes had a few crow's feet at the corners that hadn't been there the last time he looked in a mirror. His face was nicely tanned, thanks to the hours he spent on the golf course, his jaw was strong. Daily exercise kept the 'beer gut' from appearing on his six foot three inch frame.
The lawyer had to admit that he wasn't as young as he'd like to believe, but he wasn't as old as dirt yet. He picked up a couple packages of hot dogs and tossed them into the buggy.
"God, do you know what they put into those things?" the blonde woman behind him asked.
"No, and that's the way I like it," he good-naturedly said. "I'm going to get my daughter tomorrow, so I have to pick up stuff she'll actually eat."
"Why not just poison the child?" she asked.
"Well, even though this takes longer, it is untraceable," Jeff said and walked away.
He smirked when he heard her laugh at his comment.
On the condiments aisle, he was pleased to see Clay and Mark, two friends from the apartment complex he used to live in, and affectionately greeted them.
"So, how's the old apartments?" he asked.
"Oh, God!" Clay rolled his eyes. "That odious man, Mr. Simon? His ex-wife died, some horrible automobile accident you know? Anyway, to listen to him, it was the hand of God, coming down to strike the Jezebel down for her sinful ways, and he now has custody of those poor girls."
"And that little shit too," Mark shot in.
"Poor girls indeed," Jeff commiserated.
"That little son of a bitch stands there and tells me we're going to Hell for being gay," Clay complained.
"Tell him he's going to be there to open the door for you, for being a judgmental prick," Jeff suggested and the three laughed out loud.
"And for being a little juvenile delinquent," Mark agreed.
----
Dianne, his ex-wife, was extremely agitated when he arrived. Katherine wasn't ready yet, but Jeff did not argue or give her a hard time, just patiently waited for her and her new husband, who also seemed quite irritable, to get the girl ready.
"Two weeks, right?" Dianne reminded him needlessly.
"Okay," he smiled, which seemed to aggravate her greatly. She slammed the heavy door and he shrugged his shoulders and started up his restored 1965 Ford Mustang.
Katherine was sound asleep when they'd driven the one hundred and twenty miles to Lafayette, Louisiana. She woke up very cranky, but some juice and animal crackers put her in a better mood, and splashing around in the swimming pool had her back to good spirits in no time at all.
At nearly four years old, Katherine looked a great deal like her mother; black hair that hung down to her waist, although Dianne now wore it extremely short, almost in a mannish style, dark almond eyes, and skin a golden hue.
Dianne's skin, though, had looked quite splotchy when Jeff looked closely at her. So had Anthony's skin. Katherine was not fat, but she was a chubby little girl, as any three year old is supposed to be. Dianne and Anthony had looked quite thin, almost gaunt.
When he'd commented on that, Dianne had snapped that they were on a raw vegetable diet.
The two weeks were over far before he was ready and he packed her little suitcase that she loved to carry around with her, and the large suitcase that held all of her clothes and other essential items.
"Ready to go see Mommy?" he asked her as they woke up the next morning.
"And New Daddy," she happily agreed.
It tore his heart out when she referred to Dianne's new husband as 'New Daddy,' but Jeff knew that Katherine was far too young to understand this, so he just let it slide.
He called Dianne, to let her know that they were leaving Lafayette, which would put them in Kenner in about two hours. There was no answer, and the answering machine was too full to accept any messages.
----
"They're not there," Mrs. Aucoin called out as Jeff stood outside of his former home, knocking.
"Oh?" Jeff asked. "Do you know where they are?"
"Jail, I think," she replied, barely masking her glee at this.
She had been an extremely nosy neighbor when Jeff and Dianne lived there and had disapproved of Jeff and Dianne's many backyard parties. While not standoffish or rude to the Audoins, Jeff and Dianne never went out of their way to be friendly to them either.
"Jail?" Jeff asked, mouth open in disbelief.
"Yeah, about a week ago, yeah, last Wednesday in fact, a bunch of cars pulled up and they stormed the place and dragged them out in handcuffs," Mrs. Aucoin related the tale.
Jeff pulled out his cell phone and called the local police department.
"Manufacture of controlled substance, distribution of control substance, possession of drug paraphernalia," the bored desk sergeant recited when Jeff inquired about the charges.
"And both suspects are still in custody?" Jeff asked, trying to walk away from Mrs. Aucoin without getting too far away from Katherine.
"Yeah, both were arraigned, but haven't posted the bail," he said.
"Do you know what the bail is set at?" Jeff inquired.
"No, that's with the Clerk of Court," the desk sergeant said and the call was terminated.
"Well, its Sunday, so there's no way to get through to the Clerk of Court today," Jeff mused aloud.
He called Paul Richards, the senior of Richards & Son, the law firm he worked at, and let him know that he would be detained in Kenner for most of Monday.
"Manufacture of met amphetamine?" he said in disbelief as the Clerk of court let him look over the Arraignment documents.
