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Cody Parcelle was lying dead in the morgue and Marc Mercier was driving around in the vehicle of a man who hadn’t been seen in more than a week. What the actual hell, indeed.
33
“She knewhe was gonnalay into her when he got home,” Izzy murmured. “She was terrified of him.”
They sat in the same exam room where Kiki Mercier had slammed Annie into the cabinets just days before, Izzy sitting on the exam table in handcuffs while Tulsie was being tended to down the hall in the ER. Annie knew she was breaking about ten different rules bringing Izzy there, but she didn’t care.
Despite Izzy’s initial plan to run, Annie knew Izzy Guidry wasn’t a flight risk. She wasn’t going to abandon Tulsie. She wasn’t going to do anything violent. Knocking the wind out of Stokes with the handle of a scoop shovel and locking him in the feed room was the craziest thing she was going to do that night. Technically, she was a killer, yes, but with a victim pool of one, and that damage had already been done.
She was maybe going to catch hell for it, but Annie felt this was her best option for getting the whole story, and more importantly to her, it was the humane thing to do for both Izzy and Tulsie.
“I reckon I shouldn’t be talking to you,” Izzy said. She looked so sad and so alone. She was beside herself with worry for her friend.Her eyes kept going to the door, anxious for someone to come with news. She lifted both hands and tried to push her dark hair out of her eyes.
“I haven’t read you your rights yet, Izzy, and that’s for a reason,” Annie said, moving to stand between Izzy and the door, to have her attention. “Until I do that, nothing you say to me is ever gonna make it into a courtroom. So, we’re just two women having a conversation here. And nobody needs to know anything about it. You understand me?”
Izzy gave her a long, skeptical look. “Why should I trust you?”
“I want the best outcome. For Tulsie. For you,” Annie said. “This is a shitty situation caused by a man who thought his wife was a piece of property for him to do with what he would. If I could have done anything within the parameters of my job to stop him, I would have. Our system let Tulsie down. It lets women down every day, and that’s not right. If I can at least do something now to help, I’m going to.”
Izzy took in her answer and sat with it for a minute, weighing the pros and cons of accepting her explanation at face value. Annie had a feeling Izzy Guidry hadn’t had much call to trust anyone in her life.
“This wasn’t the first time, you know,” Izzy said. “This wasn’t the first time he blew up on her in public, humiliated her, sent her home like a child. She knew he was coming and what would happen. And then he’d go sit somewhere and drink, and stew, and work himself up into it, knowing she was home waiting, sick with fear, afraid to do anything.
“He texted her that night when he was on his way home,” she said. “Just to scare her. It made him feel like a big man, the fucker. I’ll never understand guys like him or why women put up with them. Someone should’a kicked him in the balls until he was dead years ago. That’s what he deserved.”
“Did Tulsie call you?” Annie asked. “Or were you already there?”
“She called me. I told her the last time it happened to call me,and I’d come. I got there before he did. I thought if I was there, he’d leave her alone, but he didn’t care. He was drunk. He said nobody would listen to me anyway, ’cause I’m just a piece of trailer trash from Eunice.”
“Why didn’t you call nine-one-one when you knew he was coming?” Annie asked.
Izzy looked at her like she was stupid. “Why? You never helped before. He hadn’t committed a crime yet. Y’all would never have bothered to even show up.”
Annie didn’t bother to argue. She couldn’t say for a fact Izzy wasn’t right, and that truth made her feel sick.
“We locked the doors,” Izzy said. “Hoping he maybe didn’t have his key, and he didn’t, but that didn’t stop him. He was at the kitchen door, yelling,I’ll fucking kill you, you fucking bitch!And he busted the glass with the butt of the shotgun.
“I thought he’d kill us both,” she said. “He came in, yelling, waving that gun around. He used the barrel to knock everything off her dresser, then he left it there and started in with his fists.”
“He started hitting her right in front of you?”
“I got between them, so he punched me first. Punched me in the stomach as hard as he could and knocked the wind out of me. Then he started in on her.”
Tears filled her dark eyes at the memory, but she wiped them away and set her jaw, stubborn and defiant.
“My stepdad used to beat us,” she said. “He beat my mother something fierce. Over and over. Years of that abuse. When I was sixteen and I finally got out of there, I said I would never put up with that shit from a man again.”
She leaned over and put her face in her hands and breathed in and out, trying to steady herself.
“He was gonna rape her, too. Right in front of me!” she said, astonished still, days later. “I was laying on the floor, trying to get my breath, and he’s taking his clothes off, pulling off his shirt, kicking off his boots. I remember thinking, thank God he’s not gonna taketo kicking her with those boots on at least…Tulsie was begging him not to. He just wanted to hurt her every way he could.”
“Just because she was dancing with Marc Mercier?” Annie asked. “Or was there something more to that?”
“She never cheated on him,” Izzy said. “Tulsie ain’t that girl. She likes to flirt a little. Why wouldn’t she? She’s sweet and cute, and that’s the only way she ever got any attention.”
She covered her face again and fought hard not to start crying outright. Annie doubted many people ever saw Izzy Guidry cry. She was tough because she’d had to be, but she had a soft heart for helpless things.
“What happened next?” she asked, hating having to make the girl relive such a horrific event.
