Set Up: Book 1

By James H. Forrest

He had nothing in life but tough times, then with murder came fortune. Will it catch up with him? He can only hope not. No one to really love and no idea which way to go. Too many people to choose from. Secrets that no one knows. The least amount of knowledge for others, gets you where you need to be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9781728378756

James H. Forrest

Mr. Forrest was born in a log house. He grew up in the Tickfaw River swamp in Livingston Parish, Louisiana, and graduated from Springfield High School. After being discharged from the U.S. Marine Corps, he was employed by an international corporation. He returned to Louisiana to visit his dying father only to be accused of a crime. He has been incarcerated for 47 years now, for a crime he did not commit. Should you care to comment, criticize, make suggestions, or simply contact, you may do so via: Jpay.com James H. Forrest 000886655.

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© 2023 James H. Forrest. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/26/2023

ISBN: 978-1-7283-7876-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-7875-6 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgment

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

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It has been a blessing that my niece Jennifer Lambert has committed herself to becoming my agent and has worked diligently to see my work published. She has given 200 percent and words have not been invented to declare the death of my gratitude for her effort. Many thanks also to the editors and publishers.

DEDICATION

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This work is dedicated to my children, Jeannie, Clifton, and Dawn who chose to believe the lies and turned their back on me in my time of need.

PROLOGUE

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Spring, 1972

Locust, Louisiana

For those who enjoyed the heat and the humidity, this was the ideal. Temperatures were already running above 90 degrees and the humidity was over 90 percent. Even the multitude of birds sought the shade in the heat of the day. Air conditioners were working overtime. Roads yet unpaved belched clouds of dust each time a vehicle went over them. It had rained, but that was weeks back. The ground dried quickly. Trees looked tired, as if the heat were too much even for them. Cattle grazed lazily in the pastures and men with equipment were dealing with the acres of soybeans and corn.

Odelia May Parker had graduated from LSU Shreveport and made her way home, home being Locust. From Interstate 20, she had driven along US 71 driving through myriad little towns and villages, generally so small the speed limit didn’t change. She drove past massive homes of affluent whites, the shanties of the jillions of blacks, descendants of slavery, still slaves in the true sense of the word. Blacks were seen along the highway driving tractors with bush hogs, but they were also seen on horses dealing with herds of Black Angus and polled Herford cattle. She drove through some lowland area, spotting deer and squirrels. Overhead, buzzards circled the highway looking for the occasional roadkill. Raccoons and opossums were most frequently seen splattered on the concrete roadway.

From time to time, she spotted a turtle, not the ones folk liked to eat, but the striped heads. Surprisingly, she even spotted a few armadillos, and once she was sure she saw a nutria rat scurrying across the highway.

Crossing into La Salle Parish, Odelia Mae relaxed a bit. Home, but she had not really lived here the past four years. Twenty-two years old, she still had no idea what had happened to her father, Adam Parker. Her mother, Pearl had been killed in a one-car accident in Concordia Parish. Drunk out of her skull, Pearl had been speeding when she lost control and wrapped the old pickup around a huge oak.

Sixteen at the time, Odelia Mae was drawn into Aunt Lottie’s home. Mama had had a life insurance policy, something which surprised even Aunt Lottie. The insurance paid for the funeral, but Mama’s will left with Loren Schlingeyer specified that the proceeds be used for college tuition and related expenses. She was permitted to buy from the proceeds a stripped-down model Chevrolet pickup. It had a standard transmission, AMFM radio, six cylinder, and short wheelbase. It literally had no frills, but it would get her where she needed to go. At the time she asked the lawyer to let her buy one of the luxury models, or even a car and he protested. Sleeping with him didn’t change his mind.

That same pickup was still running well and had served her well. Aunt Lottie, like Odelia Mae’s mother had consumed entirely too much alcohol, an easy lay, she had married a much younger George Locus. The deal was that if the pickup would bring Odelia Mae back to Locust, she had a job working for George. Uncle George was eight years older than Odelia Mae, fifteen years younger than Aunt Lottie.

At least she didn’t have to drive into the town proper. Odelia Mae turned off the highway north of town. Two miles along the newly paved road, she turned north into a lane. The trees on either side of the lane seemed to close in on her. Live oaks, probably two hundred years old formed a tunnel of sorts. It was noticeable because they were blocking the light breeze.

The house was built by George’s daddy in the 1950’s. At the time it was built, it was the show home of the parish. Considered a mansion by most, Lowell Locust had black girls taking care of the house. When he died, George inherited everything, including the property along the Louisiana coast now producing millions of barrels of oil. The Locust farm was roughly six sections, with over three thousand acres under cultivation. Half of this was now dedicated to cattle, the other half to soybeans. Odelia Mae had never seen cotton grown but was told that was the principal crop until the boll weevil took charge.

The huge garage was open, so Odelia Mae pulled her truck into one of the vacant stalls. She’d find a cart to retrieve her things, but now, she wanted to see Aunt Lottie. Sliding from the seat, she looked at her short skirt. Too short by most standards and her blouse offered a bit too much cleavage. Odelia Mae liked showing her merchandise. Promiscuous since she was twelve, she could think of nothing she enjoyed more than having a man ride her.

When she reached the front door, a cute black girl, Dora Blasic greeted her. Hi. Your Aunt has been expecting you. She thought you’d be here early.

I drove slowly. How is she?

Not good. Mr. George says she needs to be in a hospital, but she insists she wants to die at home.

You’re taking care of Uncle George?

Pretty much. I think he screws Flora more than me, but that’s ok. I have a boyfriend. Mr. George don’t like the idea of my giving it to anyone else. Flora was a couple of years older than Dora; both were quite attractive. It was Charlie Blasic who had deflowered Odelia Mae at the ripe old age of twelve. Charlie was favored by Uncle George, a hard worker, even as a teenager. Charlie asked about you, when you be coming home. I think he like white cat.

He around.

In the field someplace. You gonna let him get some?

If he wants. Aunt Lottie?

In the bedroom. She told me to bring you to her as soon as you come.

Uncle George?

Him’n Flora gone someplace. Probably screwing. No, they here. I think in the garden. C’mon, Miss Lottie wants to see you.

The house seemed larger somehow, but Odelia Mae had been living in a dorm room. The furniture was old, but sturdy. She walked behind Dora into the master suite. Aunt Lottie was lying on a hospital bed, not the king-size. I heard you talking. Thought you weren’t gonna see me.

Aw, Aunt Lottie, you knew I was coming to talk to you. Lottie was younger than Pearl, Odelia Mae’s mother. A hand was raised but Odelia Mae bypassed that to kiss her aunt’s cheeks. How you feelin’?

I’m dying, baby. Go close the door, we need to talk. The real issue was privacy, and the implication was that Dora should not hear the conversation. Odelia Mae walked across the room, closed the door then locked it. Dora could come in, but she’d have to knock first.

When she sat on the side of the bed, Aunt Lottie took her hand. It was a tender moment undisturbed by words. Aunt Lottie released her hand and began caressing Odelia Mae’s bare leg. You look sexy in that outfit. You get a lot while going to the university?

Not every day.

Charlie really bust your cherry?

We were just kids.

He has a pretty cock. George has the girls.

You know about that?

Baby, the black ain’t the problem. I’m dying and he knows it. I drank too damned much, then, I fucked around with drugs. My liver is shot. Doctor says I’ll be lucky to live to see Memorial Day. Ok, it is time to get serious. He has a decent cock but doesn’t have any idea how to use it. I talk to Flora and Dora. Mostly, they give him head. I never loved him. I guess you figured that. He inherited this place and some oil producing land in south Louisiana. My baby, you gonna have to seduce him. Make him want you, not the nigra girls. You still look like a fifteen-year-old. You do exercises?

Have been for years.

George wanted you when Pearl died. I told him to wait. I had enough for him. He’d never had pussy put on him like I put it on him. Had he half a brain, he wouldn’t have married me. I screwed Loren Schlingeyer to learn when he made a will leaving me everything. I didn’t know I was gonna die young. You might have to sleep with Loren, but he’ll talk in bed. Pretend George is the hottest cock in the parish. You gonna let Charlie have some?

Probably.

"Don’t let George know. Before I got down, I let Charlie.

What does Uncle George like?

Black pussy. He liked to fuck me in the ass. Let him, and if you haven’t been, it doesn’t hurt. Use some grease and work your muscles. You can handle more in the ass than you might think.

I’ve had it Aunt Lottie.

I’m gonna die. You gotta work on George. He has money to burn, and you’ll be his bookkeeper. He’s already telling people he’s hired you. Play him; let him make a new will. After that, Jesus, you’ll know what to do.

Bradley Como?

He’d want pussy, and you’ll have to be careful with Dora and Flora.

Bradley had done me a few times.

Then you know how to handle him. You do any girl-girl stuff?

My roommate.

I taught Flora and Dora how. They are both hot, juicy, a good strong aroma. Did you know Paul and Wilma Glenhaven?

He teaches Math, and she teaches English.

They don’t make a big thing of it, but they’re players. She is another one you’d enjoy. He’s hung heavy. Good solid twelve inches. He licked me and then made butt-fucking something I wanted.

He fucked me a few times before I graduated.

I’m telling you things never discussed. Be careful going out, George is a jealous type. He’d not say anything about your visiting Wilma Glenhaven. Very closed mouth folk. She’s from upstate someplace, Minnesota, I think. Let her invite you, then don’t be bashful.

Aunt Lottie, how do you work Uncle George?

Don’t rush him. Pretend he has a beautiful cock. He doesn’t. Charlie is better. Pretend you are in love.

Will I have to marry him?

Shouldn’t; I had to press him into marriage but being so much older he was hesitant. He will crimp your social life a bit, but it’ll be worth it, I promise.

How do you work Flora and Dora?

Invite them, one at a time, not together, at least not initially. Get them in your room to help with your bath. You’ll be fine. Whatever you do, don’t get pregnant.

I went to Mexico after I graduated from high school. Had my tubes tied. I hate rubbers and kept forgetting the pill.

Good girl. You’ll be all right. Find George. I’d like him to be here when I go.

Do you feel it is that close?

Sweetheart, I’ve forced myself to live until I could talk to you. I’m no longer able to function. Find George foe me.

Odelia Mae kissed her on the cheek but wondering about the things they had discussed. Aunt Lottie was not a lady in any pretext.

Uncle George Locust