His wife spoke up, “Basically. . .is he white or black?”
“I can’t discuss those details at this time.”
Deacon Thomas jumped back in. “People saying that he might be black and go to our church.”
“No, Jesus.” Mrs. Mable waved that comment away. “That’s the devil at work.”
I ate my macaroni and cheese, not wanting to let anything slip.
Pastor Miller frowned. “Haven, what do you think about this?”
Haven gave him a sad smile. “Alexander is correct. At this moment, we can’t discuss details of the case. It’s an ongoing investigation.”
“But how do we protect ourselves?” Aunt Judy asked. “What are the signs of someone like this?”
I decided to help Haven out. “The causes of psychopathy remain a mystery. We don’t even have a satisfactory answer to the question of whether psychopathy is a product of Mother Nature or a feature of upbringing.”
“It’s the devil,” Mrs. Mable said. “I don’t need any fancy degree to know that. All I have to do is look into the bible.”
I attempted to elaborate. “Still, there is—”
Mrs. Mable pointed at me. “Romans 13:9. You shall not commit adultery. You shall not murder. You shall not steal. You shall not covet.”
Giving up, I munched on my cornbread.
Aunt Jackie spoke up, “Well, thank you for that, Mrs. Mabel, but I want to know how to keep my grandbabies safe.”
“Tell us something, Haven,” Mrs. Barron said. “What could we look out for?”
“It’s difficult, Mom. Psychopaths are manipulative, aggressive, and impulsive but most won’t show you that side of them. They hide it, which is what makes them so manipulative.”
“And are you looking into Reverend Thompson?” Pastor Miller asked.
Haven stuffed her mouth with fried okra.
I cleared my throat. “We won’t be discussing who is our person of interest at this time.”
“You need to be looking at Reverend Thompson. Something is wrong with him and his family,” Pastor Miller continued. “They’ve been harassing black people for decades.”
“Sure have.” Aunt Judy nodded. “Some of us lost our family members to Chester Thompson. His father was an evil man.”
“Worse than the devil.” Mrs. Barron put her fork down and took a sip of her water.
Pastor Miller set his napkin down. “Chester Thompson hunted our little girls. Took my sister too.”
His sister. There was a girl that had the same last name. What was it?
Pastor Miller continued, “I heard you all went over to Colesville to look into that. What did you find?”
“Pastor,” Haven smiled. “We can’t talk about it.”
“But you did look into the first set of Colesville Murders?”
I eyed Pastor Miller. “First set?”
“Yes. KKK started taking little black girls on the first Friday of the month in the 70s. They arrested Chester Thompson for six victims, but it was more than that.”
“And they never stopped.” Deacon Thomas ceased with eating. “Kept on for several more years until the 80s. After a while, our people got tired of it. Next thing you know, little white girls from the KKK families started coming up missing. That changed everything.”
I quirked my brows. “Who took them?”
“They never found out, but a note was always left at the parents’ doorsteps.” Mrs. Miller placed her hands on the table. “All the person said was, ‘An eye for an eye.’ Then, little black girls stopped going missing. And the white girls too.”
“Someone took care of that.” Mrs. Mable shook her head. “The devil was at work those years.”
“And they never found out who took any of the girls?” I turned back to Pastor Miller. “Do you have any idea?”
“Not sure, but I know it was some tired black people.”
I shook my head. “None of this was brought up by Fullbrooke’s local police.”
“I’m not shocked. They won’t have any of that stuff in the files. Back in the 70s and early 80s, the police were barely involved.” Pastor Miller’s voice grew weak. “I remember having to help my father cut down little girls from trees, so their families wouldn’t have to.”
Mrs. Miller touched her hand to her chest. “I don’t think we should talk about this anymore.”
Pastor Miller frowned. “Find this person. Get rid of him before this gets worse.”
“Yes, sir. I promise.”
There was so much that I wanted to say. But I didn’t know if it was my place or not. The people of Fullbrooke and Colesville had gone through a lot and been divided over racial violence. What could my words do, but be meaningless? Part of me wanted to apologize. The other was enraged for all they’d experienced.
Mrs. Mabel sucked her teeth. “And it’s a shame with those Thompsons. Chester started killing all those little girls just to prove to those white people that he wasn’t black.”
A couple of people laughed.
O-kay. What? Reverend Thompson and his family are black?
“Excuse me?” I asked. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t pay Mrs. Mabel any mind,” Mrs. Barron said.
“I know what I’m talking about,” Mrs. Mabel continued, “People around here don’t know their history. Older generations know. The Thompsons around here were all the product of Tom Fullbrooke and Fanny. My mama told me that, just like her mama told her. They had the Fullbrooke name, and they changed it because in the end, they considered themselves more Tom’s son than Fanny’s. That’s why they made their last name Tomson. They changed the spelling in the 70s. But Reverend Thompson great great great grandmother was Fanny.”
The Deacon muttered, “Might be another great in there somewhere,”
“Don’t matter how many great-grandmas it is.” Mrs. Mabel took a bit of her biscuit. “They black.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Is that really true?”
“Yes. Indeed.”
“Them Thompsons were blacks passing. They got in with the most racist white folks they could fine, to hide.” Mrs. Mabel buttered her biscuit. “Then, they try to marry as white as they can, but sometimes they mixed it up with other ones passing like the Michaelsons. So, they can’t get that black out the blood at all.”
Mrs. Barron sighed. “Lord Jesus, you’ve got Mrs. Mabel started.”
“Reverend Thompson married Sheriff Michaelson’s sister, Sweets. That Sweets started that beauty salon and she still secretly press her hair. The Michaelsons can’t get the kink out. It’s in their DNA. Sweets tell everyone it’s because her people Italian and Jewish. She lying.”
Aunt Jackie raised her hands. “Okay, Mrs. Mabel.”
“Michaelson’s line is from Tom Fullbrooke’s son Michael who used to mess with this slave girl on his aunt’s plantation. Had tons of babies with her. Made that slave and those kids free but gave them that name to hide.” Mrs. Mabel laughed. “So, now we have Michaelsons and Thompsons breeding together. And they don’t know that they’re not only black but they all types of related. That’s why they evil and crazy.”