by Jim Riley
"Will you still feel that way when he doesn't show up for the court in three days, and you lose eight hundred thousand dollars?" Drexel asked.
"Don't think I haven't thought about that. I don't know what we would do if Billy doesn't show up Friday morning."
"How do we find Flavia?" Donna asked. "If we can find her, then we may solve a whole bunch of our problems."
"I don't believe visiting with her father right now will get us very far. If she was supposed to spend the night with Paula Slocum, then Sleazy's daughter may know something."
67
Central High School
When Paula Slocum came into the small conference room at the high school, Niki could not help but notice the similarity in her facial features to her father. The same dark hair. The same piercing eyes. The same flawless skin. But unlike her infamous father, Paula had a small frame, almost fragile.
She was barely five feet tall, if that. There was not an ounce of fat on the girl. Niki wondered if the teenager ever ate.
"Paula, I'm Niki Dupre. I'm trying to find Flavia Foster. She supposedly spent the night with you last night."
The teenager nodded, but remained silent. However, her bright eyes focused on the private investigator. Niki guessed the facial features were not the only things Paula inherited from Sleazy Slocum.
"What time did she get to your house last night?"
"About six."
"Did she stay there for the rest of the evening?"
"No, Ma'am."
"What time did she leave?"
"After dinner."
"What time was that?"
"A little after seven," Paula responded.
The young girl was similar to her father, reluctant to expand her answers. Niki realized she would have to ask specific questions to get the information she wanted. Nothing would come easily.
"Did she say where she was going?"
"No, Ma'am."
"What reason did Flavia give for leaving?"
"She said she was going to the library."
Niki sighed. "Did she often go to the library at night?"
"No, Ma'am."
"Why did she go last night?"
"She didn't tell me."
"Aren't you and Flavia good friends?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"She gave you no hint why she had to go to the library?"
"No, Ma'am."
"Where did she really go?"
"I don't know."
"Have you heard from her since she left to go to the library?"
"Not really."
"What do you mean by ‘not really’? Either you heard from her or you didn't."
"I didn't."
The private investigator remained silent, staring at Paula.
"It's complicated," Paula said, her focus on Niki.
"I've got time," Niki replied. "Tell me how she got in contact with you."
"She didn't."
"But you said, not really. When you answer like that, I know you're not telling the whole truth. It tells me you heard from her in some fashion or another."
Paula nodded.
"What was it? How did you hear from Flavia in a roundabout way?"
"My dad."
"Flavia contacted Sle—Your father?"
The first smile from the teenager. "It's okay. I know my dad's nickname. It doesn't bother me in the least."
"Sorry. How did Flavia contact your dad?"
"She sent him a text."
"What did the text say?" Niki asked.
"She wanted to talk to him."
"What did she want to talk about?"
"I don't know. My dad didn't tell me."
"Did your dad talk to her?" The private investigator asked.
"I don't know. He didn't tell me."
“Did you see him on the phone with her?”
"No, Ma'am."
"Do you know if he ever talked to her?"
"No, Ma'am. He left the house."
"What time did he leave?"
"A little after eight."
Niki’s head swirled. How did Sleazy Slocum fit into the disappearance of Flavia Foster? What the have to gain by hiding the teenager from the detective and the paternity test? Could he be the father of Flavia's child?
"How long has Flavia known your father?"
"A couple of years."
“What is their relationship like?”
"Good."
"It's Flavia close to your dad? Does she trust him?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Are they alone together often?"
"Not often."
"But sometimes? Are they together sometimes was no one else present?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"How often? Where do they meet?"
"Here at the house."
"Flavia meets your dad here when you're not around? Why would she do that?"
Paula faint smile was replaced with a serious frown. "It's not like that."
"Not like what?" Niki feigned innocence.
"She isn't screwing my dad. They wouldn't do something like that."
"Like you wouldn't do something like that with Coach Delrie?"
“How did you find out about that?” Paula stared at the private investigator with wide eyes.
"I'm a detective. It's my job to find out the relevant facts about people involved with the investigation."
"But Ricky and I are the only ones that know. I didn't even tell Flavia."
"Ricky? Not Coach Delrie?"
"He treated me like an adult. He was Ricky to me."
"You speak like the relationship is over. Did something happen?" Niki asked.
"He told me last night we needed to take a break." For the first time, Sleazy Slocum's daughter showed emotion. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "He wouldn't tell me why."
Niki wondered if she should tell Paula about her conversation with Ricky Delrie the previous morning and her demands on the young coach. She decided it would not be in the best interest of the teenager. At least, the coach had taken the first step she demanded and ended the relationship with a sophomore student.
"Maybe he realized you should see boys closer to your own age."
"But I love Ricky. I don't want any of those idiot guys in high school."
"How old are you, Paula?"
"Sixteen. Almost seventeen."
Niki moved to the same side of the table as the broken teenager.
"Then give it a year. When you turn eighteen and graduate from high school, see if you still feel the same way."
"I know I will," the girl cried. "But what if he finds someone else in the meantime?"
"Then you will also find someone else."
"I don't want to find someone else. All the chickens at school are scared to ask me for a date. They've heard about my dad."
"Do you plan to go to college?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
“Where do you want to go?”
"Dad wants me to go to LSU and stay at home. I want to get as far away as possible from his reputation."
"Do you have good grades?"
The tears stopped, and Paula looked at Niki as if the detective had asked a stupid question without merit.
"Of course. Straight A's."
"Then you can get into any college you want to attend. But you still have over two years to make that decision."
"My dad won't let me go anywhere but LSU."
"I'll talk to him. I might convince your dad to trust you. But you have to earn that trust. No more relationships with the guys ten years older than you."
"Ricky isn't ten years older than me. He's only twenty-four. I don't want anybody but him."
"Then if he feels the same way, he'll still be there in two years. You may not feel the same way by then. Also, you're not doing him any favors."
"I'm not?"
"He’s breaking the law and his contract with the school board. If anyone finds out, he may not only lose his job, he may go to jail."
"Like Coach Bailey?"
"Yes. If you're that close to Flavia, then you probably know that she wasn't in a relationship with Coach Bailey."
"I don't know. She never mentioned it."
"Don't you think she would have?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Paula nodded. "I wasn't exactly truthful before. I told her about me and Ricky."
"That might be where she got the idea to blame Billy. Do you have any idea who the real father is?"
"I thought about that," Paul replied. "But I guess I believed her when she said all that stuff about Coach Bailey."
"Do you think your boyfriend may have gotten her pregnant?"
"I don't know. From what Flavia told me, they weren't doing it yet. They wanted to wait until they got married."
"Okay," Niki pause. "I need to talk to your dad. You may have been the last one to talk to Flavia before someone killed her."
"Dad didn't kill Flavia. He liked her too much. Not the same way that Ricky likes me, but more like a daughter. He encouraged me to stay close to Flavia because he respected her."
"I still need to talk to him."
"Will you do me a favor, Miss Niki?"
"Sure. If I can."
"Don't tell my dad about me and Ricky. He will kill him and ground me for life."
68
Central
"Sara Sue. This is Niki."
"Hey, Niki. I heard the bad news about Flavia not turning up for the test. Awful, isn't it?"
"It's a setback, for sure. Did Billy tell you?"
"Yeah. He said you were pretty upset with him for leaving last night."
"You bet I was," Niki retorted. "I still am."
"Niki, he’s looking at spending the rest of his life in jail after Friday afternoon. He wanted to get out and I can't blame him for that," Sara Sue said. "He might not have many more opportunities unless Flavia shows up."
"He needs to stay at home. It seems like every time he leaves your house, something bad happens. We're trying to help them, but he's got to quit doing stupid things."
"I'll talk to him. I plan to take Thursday off to stay with him all day. Then I'm taking Friday off to go with him to court."
"Good," Niki breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm worried he might not show up for the hearing Friday."
"He'll be there, and I'll be there with him. I know this all looks bad, but I also know my husband is innocent."
"You need to make sure he stays home. One more coincidence, and the judge may not wait until Friday. Billy may not be there Thursday when you take off from work."
"I'll talk to him, Niki. But I have to be honest with you. I can't blame him if he wants a bit of free time before Friday."
"I rather he have a lot of free time to spend with you and his child. Think about it."
69
Blackwater Road
"What brings you to my humble abode?" The large figure of Sleazy Slocum greeted Niki in the doorway.
"We need to talk," the investigator replied.
"Well, come on in. I hate for you to think I'm inhospitable because you sicced your dogs on me like I was a bunny rabbit."
Niki followed the large man inside the house. Hardly a humble abode, but Slocum's residence did not garner attention. Everything in it was of the best quality, but none of it was garish or overly ornate. Niki wondered how many times Flavia had been within these walls.
Slocum sat in a big man's over-sized recliner. The remote control for the television set was on a small table next to him. Niki saw the morning paper on a lower shelf of the table.
"Have you heard about Flavia?"
"I've heard a little," Slocum answered.
"What do you know?"
"I know if your tub-of-lard detective moved any slower, he and the dumb kid would be making excuses to St. Peter right now."
"Were you there?" Niki's mouth stayed agape.
"Of course not." Slocum gave her an all-knowing smile. "What business would I have at the maze on a Tuesday morning?"
"Burying a body." Niki thought, but did not say. Instead, she was more diplomatic, but not much.
"Somehow, I felt like the whole deal with Flavia's car and the bomb had your signature all over it."
"Sorry to disappoint you. Like they say, imitation is the utmost form of flattery. I might have some fans out there who I'm not aware of."
"So you weren't at the maze this morning?"
"I think I've already answered that. Is there anything else on your mind?"
"Flavia Foster."
"She should be. How does it feel to be responsible for a sweet young girl's death?"
Niki was not prepared for that question voice with such conviction that the premise of her responsibility for Flavia's disappearance was a certainty. She fumbled for a few seconds before answering.
"We're not sure she is dead." Niki tried to sound confident, but failed miserably.
"From what I heard, there wasn't enough left of the car for anyone to survive."
"But we don't know where Flavia was when the car exploded. She wasn't in the car."
"Where was she?"
"I thought you might know. After all, you are one of her best friends."
"Where would you hear something like that?" A bemused smile flitted across the large man’s lips.
"I have sources. You're not the only one who can play that game."
"Well, now," Slocum hesitated. "I guess you have me in a corner no matter what I answer. Well done, Miss Dupre. My compliments."
"Then answer the question. How close was your relationship with Flavia Foster?"
"She is a fine young lady. A boatload of talent and potential. She has a tremendous future ahead if she can put this present matter behind her."
"How involved are you in the present matter?"
"Oh, I'm on the fringes of most matters in Central." Slocum said without sounding boastful. "Sometimes, I'm more involved than most people think. I prefer to stay in the background."
"Are you in the background in this case? Or maybe a main player and even the basis of everything."
"Miss Dupre, I have every confidence you will ferret out the truth in this affair. Then you will be in a position to answer your own questions."
"Are you working alone or did someone hire you?" The detective searched for any sign of deceit.
"I don't remember saying I was involved at all."
"If you are the father of Flavia's baby, I'd say you are way too involved."
"Our relationship isn't like that. There isn’t and never was anything sexual about our feelings for each other."
"What was your relationship with Flavia?"
"More like a crazy uncle with his favorite niece. Maybe like a grandfather. I wanted nothing but the best for Flavia."
"Then tell me who the father of the baby is. That will help her if she is still alive."
"I don't know."
"You don't know who the father is or you don't know if she still alive?"
“I don't know who impregnated Flavia.”
"It wasn't my client. It wasn't Billy Bailey," Niki blurted out as if convincing Sleazy Slocum was of the utmost importance.
"I agree with your assessment."
Niki sat in silence, stunned by what she heard from Slocum's lips. The broad man focused on her with a faint trace of a smile, much as his daughter had done a few hours earlier. She was amazed at the similarity of expressions from the father and the daughter.
"Are you saying you don't believe Billy Bailey is guilty of abusing Flavia?"
"You should already know the answer to that."
Niki did not understand what Slocum inferred.
"How was I to know you didn’t believe the charges against Billy?"
"He’s still alive. That's your proof."
70
Central
Flavia woke up in a strange bed. She was still wearing the same clothes she had on the previous night; a pair of sweatpants and a Central High School jersey. The covers were pulled up over her shoulders.
Horrible
thoughts tore through her mind, but there had been no assault. She was not shackled or confined to the bed any way.
She shoved the covers back and waited to see if she could hear anything. All was quiet in the room. The teenager rose from the bed and tiptoed to the closed door. Putting her ear up against it, she heard nothing. No sound from behind the door.
The cheerleader crept to the window on the other side of the bed. Looking through it, she saw the swamp. Water and scum everywhere she looked. Cypress knees extending out of the shallow water. Larger cypress trees providing an overhead canopy.
She tested the window. To her surprise, it slid up easily. When she leaned out of the window, she looked first right, then left. It was the same in every direction. Nothing but swamp. Flavia thought about climbing out the window and escaping.
But where would she go? What lay in front of the cabin? Who else was in the cabin who might do her harm? What critters were in the swamp?
All these questions made her hesitate before jumping. She looked around the room for some kind of weapon. There was little to choose from. The chairs were intact. No loose legs or backseat slats. She searched in the closet. The nearest thing to an object that might hurt someone was a coat hanger. She took two of them.
Then she took down the curtain over the window and withdrew the rod. It wasn't solid, but she felt better after fashioning the unwound hangers on the end. At least she might thrust them in her captor's eyes. After a couple of practice lunges, she walked to the door. It was time to face her captor.
She expected the door to be locked. It was not. When she peered into the small hallway, she discovered another door farther down and a living area in the other direction. After pausing for more than a minute, she inched out of the bedroom, the makeshift spear in her right hand. Nerves almost forced her back into the room. Her hands trembled. Her heart pounded. Trepidation was her foremost thought.
Slowly, one small step at a time, the teenager edged into the den area, her back against the wall. With shaky knees, she took one more step. She saw a television sitting opposite a couch, a recliner, and a love-seat. On the shelf above the fireplace sat rough candles. It reminded her of the churches she had seen on TV.
