“Miss Robicheaux, please come down,” he said in a tired voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know you don’t, but you’re also tired of the voices, aren’t you?”
“Y-yes,” he stammered, unwilling to hide any longer. “I can’t keep this up, but I have to destroy the tree. Don’t you see? I have to.”
“You don’t have to,” said Jean, standing behind the man. “All those properties you’ve destroyed, the land you’ve ruined, the homes you’ve leveled, none of it has helped you, has it?”
“No. None of it. I’d hoped that this one would be different since it was where it started.”
“Take a seat, Bennett,” said Nine, pointing to one of the lawn chairs they’d brought. He didn’t bother to argue, only taking a seat in the chair. He was surrounded by men who could tear him apart, and he was willing to let them do so.
“When did it start?” asked Ruby, seated next to Irene, who’d finally left her perch.
“When I was ten. I started hearing voices about making things right, and then one far more evil. I think it was my ancestor.”
“So, you know what he did?” asked Ruby.
“Yes, ma’am. I know. And although I had nothing to do with it, I’m ashamed, and I want to wipe it away.”
“You can’t wipe it away, honey,” said Irene. “It’s not yours to wipe away. Your ancestor was as evil as they come. You heard Grover when you were here. The ghost who recognized you.” He nodded.
“I did. I knew that several of the people he hurt were killed in this Square, but he was the first one to approach me. How did he know it was me?”
“Your ring,” said Grover, staring at the man. Hampton looked down at the signet ring and frowned. “Your grandfather had an identical ring.”
“I was told it was an heirloom.” He picked it up and threw it in the nearby trash barrel. “I want nothing to do with it any longer.”
“It doesn’t change anything, honey,” said Ruby.
“How do I change it? I’ve tried everything. I thought burning all the buildings, the homes, the trees would help to release the spirits. I’ve visited voodoo priests and priestesses, shamans, medicine men, ministers! Anyone who would listen to me, and nothing helps.”
“Does the name Nel mean anything to you?” asked Gaspar.
“Nel? No, I don’t think,” he said, hesitating. “Wait. Nel. Sometimes, that name is confused with Melba.”
“Melba?” said Grover. “I know her. She was the old woman that treated our wounds, that helped boss when he was ill.”
“I have some records with her name on them,” said Bennett. “I don’t remember all of it, but it’s in my apartment.”
“Do I have your permission to go and get them?” asked Jean.
“Yes,” he said, handing him the key. Jean smiled, handing it back to him.
“No need for that.”
“Right,” he chuckled nervously. “There are two large folders on my desk. It has all the information we might want to review.” Gaspar nodded at the surrounding men.
“Let’s set up some lights. It’s going to be a long night.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
1799
“Melba! Get your black ass in the house,” yelled the foreman. “Boss has been hurt and needs you.”
“Yes, suh,” she said obediently. She gathered her salves and bandages, putting her kit over her shoulder.Her husband reached for her arm.
“Don’t be doin’ nothin’ stupid. I need you back here.”
