by Jim Riley
Billy face jerked up. "It's not like that. I only happened to be there. I didn't cause Jimbo to start bleeding. You're twisting things again."
"What do you think the prosecutor will do to you? Do you think she will only ask the questions that make you look innocent? Do you think she will take you at your word you had nothing to do with your friend’s setback?"
"But you make it sound like I'm guilty."
Niki threw up both hands. "Duh. If you think I'm trying to make you look guilty, wait until you get in the stand in front of a judge and twelve of your peers. That's when you’ll look guilty."
Billy sank back in the chair. "I know you're mad at me, but my visit almost paid off. Jimbo was about to tell me who he thought was behind all this when his wound opened. I think he knows who is trying to frame me."
Niki nodded, her voice softening a bit, but still firm. "I talked to him before you did. I believe he can break this case wide open. I'm going back in the morning to talk to him."
"What time? I want to go with you."
Niki blew out a long breath. "What will it take to get through to you?"
Billy stood.
"It's my butt on the line here. I have a right to find out what's going on."
"You don't have a right to tamper with any potential witness. The court will frown on your visit tonight if they find out. You can't afford to piss off the judge again."
"But I want to go."
"Listen, I’ll call you as soon as Jimbo tells me what he knows. That's the best we can do."
"But—"
A knock on the door interrupted Billy. Both he and Niki stepped back when he opened the door.
"Mr. Bailey," the policeman said. "I’m Kenneth Aiken. I work in homicide at the Sheriff’s office. We need to ask you about your visit to Lane Memorial Hospital tonight."
51
Central
Niki gave Billy a ‘I told you so’ look.
"Officer, I'm Niki Dupre. Mr. Bailey is my client. What is the nature of your questions?"
"Are you his attorney?" The homicide cop asked.
"I'm a private investigator working for the attorney representing Mr. Bailey."
"How long have you been here?"
"About twenty minutes. I came to talk with my client about some new developments in the case." Niki stepped in between Billy and the officer.
"Dupre? Dupre? You're on our list. We have a report you visited Jimbo tonight."
"Yes, I did. Then I spoke with Pattie Grace Wax, his wife, in the visitor area in the hospital. Why are you asking?" Niki did not feel comfortable with the direction of the questioning.
The cop ignored her question. "What time did you leave?"
Niki shrugged. “I'm not sure. Maybe an hour ago. Maybe a little longer. You can ask Jimbo. He might remember the time.”
The officer frowned. "We would like to, Miss Dupre. But that isn't possible. Mr. Wax is dead."
Niki's hand went instinctively to her mouth. Then an imposing figure loomed in the doorway. Chief of Homicide Samson Mayeaux entered without being asked.
"I'll take it from here." He told the two policemen, nodding toward the door.
They gave him a slight nod of their heads and left without saying anything further. The chief turned back to Niki, Billy, and Sara Sue, who seemed to be in a state of shock.
Samson stood shifting from one foot to the other until Billy settled into his recliner. Mayeaux sat on one end of the sofa and Niki occupied the other. Sara Sue, as though in a trance, remained standing in the entrance to the hallway leading to the bedrooms.
For at least sixty seconds, Samson said nothing, staring intently at Billy. Niki glanced at the coach, trying to determine what held the Chief's attention. Billy's complexion morphed into the hue of a boiled egg, no color apparent in his cheeks or his temples.
Mayeaux took out a small pad that looked even smaller in his huge paw. Niki could not have written one complete sentence on one of its pages. But Samson eyed the tiny pad as though it contained the entire works of William Shakespeare.
"Tell me about it." He motioned toward Billy, his instructions intentionally vague.
"About—About what?" Billy stuttered.
"What happened tonight?" Samson asked, his eyes now focused on the small tablet.
Billy gave him a brief recap of his two minutes alone with Jimbo, including the conversation with the lead nurse. He also told the chief about Jimbo's intention to tell him more about the situation with the cheerleaders.
"He was alive when I left. The nurses, as far as I could tell, had stopped the bleeding. I don't know what could've happened after I left to make him start bleeding again." Billy finished the summary.
"Who told you he started bleeding again?"
"Uh—I assumed—What else could it have been to cause his death?" Billy squirmed in the recliner which had become uncomfortable since Samson's started talking.
"He was poisoned." Mayeaux was terse.
"My God." Sara gasped from her position.
Mayeaux did not look at her or Niki. His gaze remained focused on Billy. The private investigator said nothing, waiting for the coach to speak. Niki now understood that Samson was searching for signs of a tell, a facial spasm or involuntary movement that would indicate the coach was lying. She shifted her attention to Billy to see if she could pick up any hint of deception.
"I didn't know. Who would want to kill Jimbo? Everybody loved him." Billy's chin sunk into his chest, but his mind raced. His eyes continued to go from one object to another, unable to stay focused on any particular spot.
"You tell me." Again, terse words from Samson.
Instead of answering the chief, Billy turned to Sara Sue. "Do you mind making a pot of coffee? I think it might help right now."
Sara Sue almost ran to the kitchen, thankful for having a concrete task to achieve. The other three could hear her going through the pantry, having forgotten where she kept the coffee grounds.
"So, now that your wife isn’t here, who do you think killed Jimbo Wax?" Samson asked.
"I've been thinking about it since you told me he was dead. I'm not sure." Bailey replied, his voice now firm.
"What are your thoughts? You have obviously come up with at least one suspect." Mayeaux pressed.
"I'm thinking of two different possibilities. Maybe just one. I don't know. I guess both of them would fit together."
"I'm listening," Mayeaux still had written nothing on the small tablet.
"It goes back to somebody setting me up. Now somebody has killed Jimbo. Also, LaDonne was killed in order to either frame me or to keep her quiet."
Mayeaux said nothing but gave a slight nod.
Billy continued. "It seems now the head coaching job is wide open. The way things work, there is only one person who can fill the position for the rest of the season, including the playoffs."
"Who is that?" Mayeaux asked.
"Ricky Delrie, the freshman coach. At least he was. I understand he helped coach the varsity tonight." Billy buried his head in his hands.
"Why is he the only one? Aren't there are several assistant coaches?"
"The school has a requirement that the head coach must have a Masters degree. I have one. Jimbo had one. The only other person on the staff that has one is Ricky Delrie."
"Why can't the school hire someone from another school? Why does the replacement have to come from the current staff?" Mayeaux jotted something down on the small pad.
"Our policy is if the position becomes vacant during the active season, then the school is required to offer the position to a member of the coaching staff. They figured it would be easier to transition."
"That leaves Delrie in the catbird's seat to replace you. Is he the kind of fella that would kill two people to get your job?" Mayeaux returned to staring at the coach.
Sara Sue returned with three cups of hot coffee. She handed one to each of them and went back to the sanctuary of the kitchen. All three took a sip of the dark brew
, each in private thoughts.
Finally, Billy answered the question. "I didn't think so. But then, I never dreamed anybody I know would be capable of killing people for personal gain. It never dawned on me."
"Why have you changed your mind?" Samson asked between sips.
“Because it has to be somebody close to the school. Flavia and LaDonne are involved. At least LaDonne was involved. Flavia still is.”
"Why does that narrow it down to Delrie?"
Billy blew out a breath between quivering lips. "He's the only one I know who has enough to gain and has enough of a friendship with the kids to pull it off."
"Do you think he did himself?"
Billy shook his head. "No. I don't see that in Ricky's makeup. But then, until now, I didn't think having two people killed was in his makeup either."
"Who would he get to help him? Any ideas?"
Billy threw one palm up. "No. None. I don't know those kinds of people."
"Maybe I do," Niki interjected.
Mayeaux shifted his gaze to the private investigator.
"We think Sleazy Slocum is tied to this case one way or the other. We've had a tail on him for the past few days."Niki said.
Mayeaux smiled for the first time. "That's good. Then you can tell me where Mr. Slocum was when the young lady and the coach were killed."
Niki turned beet red. "I can't. We lost him every time we put a surveillance on him. I wish I could tell you where he was, but the truth is, I don't have a clue."
That was the first time Niki mentioned to Billy about their unsuccessful attempts to monitor Slocum's whereabouts. She glanced at him for a reaction, but the coach was absorbed with his own demons.
Mayeaux caught her glance and winked at Niki. "Don't worry about it. I've lost Sleazy on more than one occasion myself. He's one of the best in the business."
Niki ran a hand alongside her face. "I don't like being made a fool. I have to admit that Mr. Slocum has gotten under my skin. He knows how to push my buttons."
Mayeaux smiled. "Sleazy makes a living by irritating his foes. He figures if you are pissed off at him, you will more likely make mistakes. Looks like he might be right."
"Maybe so," Niki replied. "But doesn't it look like two separate killers? LaDonne was killed with a knife and Jimbo was poisoned. Two different methods. That suggests two different killers to me."
Mayeaux looked at his tablet, but he was not reading any of the information it contained.
"Normally, I would agree with you. I was considering the possibility myself. The knife and the stark nature of the attack on LaDonne suggests her murder was committed by a man. The poisoning of Coach Wax is gender-neutral, but if it was the same guy, then why didn't he use a knife like he did with LaDonne? It took longer to inject the poison in the IV tube then it would have taken to slit his throat."
Billy recovered his focus. "So we're talking about two different people being involved? A man and a woman?"
Mayeaux nodded. "That's the way I'm considering it now. I don't know where it will lead, and I don't know how Mr. Slocum fits with any of this."
Niki stared at her coffee cup. "If you are correct, then Slocum killed LaDonne, and a woman killed Jimbo."
Mayeaux nodded. "Slocum could have poisoned Wax as well. Putting the poison in the IV tube gave him time to get out of the hospital before the coach reacted and died. That might explain the two different techniques."
"Do you know if Slocum has used either in the past?" Niki asked.
"We haven't been able to directly tie Slocum to any of our open cases. If we could, I would be the first one to arrest him." Mayeaux sighed at the admission.
"I understand. Maybe I'm not the only one who has been fooled by him. How about the cases where he is a suspect?"
Mayeaux closed his eyes, as if mentally sorting through every open case in East Baton Rouge Parish that might remotely tie to Slocum.
"We suspect Sleazy has used a variety of methods to eliminate his targets. Some were shot from a distance. Some were shot up close. Some were stabbed to death. At least one was strangled. Three people were blown up with a car bomb."
"You didn't mention poisoning. Do you suspect him of ever using poisons to kill someone?"
"Not so far. But we could be wrong."
“But even if we find out he killed Washington, LaDonne, and Coach Wax, we still will have to find out who hired him.”
"My best guess right now is Delrie. He's the kind of weasel that would hire somebody else to do his dirty work."
Mayeaux stood, indicating that he was through speculating.
52
Central
"So you're now the acting head coach," Niki used an accusatory tone.
"Looks that way." Ricky Delrie could not help but suppress a smile.
"Where were you this morning?"
"Huh?" A noticeable tic at the corner of Delrie's eye.
"Where were you when Coach Wax was killed?" Niki expanded the question.
Shock spread across the young coach's face. "Are you serious?"
"Deadly so," she replied.
Delrie rose from behind the desk in the office designated for the head coach. He walked to the window and stared out into space. He kept Niki waiting for more than two minutes.
"I didn't do it," he finally replied.
"Do what?"
"I didn't kill Jimbo. We're friends. At least we were."
"But now, with Billy and Jimbo out of the way, you're in charge. You have a chance to make your mark."
"So?" He shrugged. "That's the luck of the draw. I happen to be in the right spot at the wrong time."
"Coincidence? Is that what you want me to believe?"
"That's the gist of it."
"Then answer my questions. Where were you this morning when Coach Wax was killed?" Niki asked.
Delrie turned back from the window, her face stern. "I can't tell you. I wish I could, but I can't."
"You don't want to give me an alibi that would clear your name? That sounds fishy."
"I don't care how it sounds. I can't tell you where I was this morning." The coach no longer looked at Niki when he spoke.
"Is she eighteen?" Niki watched the man closely for reaction. She was not disappointed. Ricky Delrie was physically shaking, his hands trembling and his lips quivering.
Niki knew the answer to your question without a verbal reply. She went another direction with the probe.
"Do you know John David Slocum?"
"I—uh. Sort of." The words did not come easily for the man.
"What does sort of mean? Do you know him?"
"I know who he is. I've had a few casual conversations with him."
"What were those conversations about?"
"Stuff. Just stuff," the coach mumbled.
"Come on. You can do better than that. If you want me to go away, tell me a believable lie."
"He's one of our supporters in the Athletic Association. His daughter is a sophomore and plays on the girls’ basketball team."
"His daughter?" This was news to Niki. In her dealings with the Slocums, neither had ever mentioned a daughter. She had to wonder why.
53
Zachary
The gray F150 left Zachary and followed the same route as always. John David "Sleazy" Slocum watched the white Ford Explorer pull out of the parking lot soon after he passed. It remained three to four car lengths behind, all the way to Baton Rouge. The driver was good at the shadowing technique.
Sleazy was better. His future depended on his attention to his environment. Too many people considered him to be a permanent enemy, and would continue to do so until he was no longer around.
Slocum pulled into the garage and parked by the bridge-way to the elevators. He waited until the SUV passed, giving no indication he was even remotely aware of its presence.
Then he sprinted down the parking garage stairs to the red sedan. He smiled, knowing that Niki Dupre or one of her investigators was about to spend several frustrati
ng hours searching for him within the confines of the hotel.
When he pulled onto the highway, Slocum watch carefully for a separate trailing car. He saw none. To be sure, the professional took a roundabout route to his destination, Mansur's on the Boulevard. One more delicious meal he could charge to his mysterious client.
Lisa, the demure hostess, picked up a menu, flashed an alluring smile, and led him through the restaurant to the back room. He was somewhat taken aback when he saw a diner already seated at his favorite table. He thought he might have a word with the manager.
To his surprise, Lisa escorted him to the same table.
"Have a seat, John David." Niki lowered the menu in front of her face with a knowing smile.
The stunned man's mouth dropped. He sat in the chair next to the private investigator, putting much thought into it. Then, as suddenly as his composure had been snatched from him, it returned. He placed the menu to the side.
"What is this all about?" He demanded.
"You were so kind to buy my dinner the last time you were here." Niki's face never lost a smile. "I wanted to return the favor."
"I prefer to dine alone."
"Unfortunately, the place is busy. All the other tables are full, and they have a waiting list. Besides, I've already ordered some spring rolls for appetizers."
Slocum stared at the attractive detective for several minutes. She held his gaze without flinching. Then he instantly relaxed.
"Thank you. It's not often I have the pleasure of such exquisite company. My apologies for my rude manners."
"Accepted. Now, can we talk?"
"I can’t talk without a drink in my hands." He snapped his fingers and the waiter immediately disappeared, coming back in less than a minute with a deep red wine.
He held the glass in front of him. "My compliments to a devious young lady."
Niki tapped her class of iced tea against his. "I take that as an honor coming from the master."
Slocum did not sip the wine. He drained it. The waiter immediately refilled the empty glass.
