“There’s still a chance she’s alive, right? She wasn’t killed here, right?” Her voice was thin as a worn thread.
“This isn’t a crime scene, but you have to prepare yourself when the results come in. All the evidence points to Haley.”
“I know.” She wiped hard at her face as if mad. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Just look around.”
“I guess you’ve already been through her stuff,” she said.
“Yes, but it was messy like this when we arrived. We took her hairbrush to compare DNA. There’s also a storage area on the first floor, but all she has in there is a really old computer monitor, a vacuum cleaner and a few other items. Nothing of real value.”
“I’m surprised she has a vacuum cleaner. She was always a slob.” She gave a shaky laugh, touching a lampshade.
“We didn’t find anything we needed to take as evidence.”
“I wish I could tell you something. Being apart for two years kind of dulls the memories.”
“Take your time.”
Cozy crossed the floor as if it hid landmines. “Except for her clothes, I can’t spot anything that says Haley. It might as well be a stranger’s apartment.” She floated about, randomly touching things. “She must have been so lonely. So, if she’s not dead, she’s at least missing.”
“I’m sorry you had to see those pictures.”
“I’ve seen what water can do to dead animals.”
“I guess you have.” We stood for a moment in an awkward pause. “And then with your father. I’m so sorry about all that. Child abuse is the one thing that gets a cop right down here in the gut.” I touched my stomach, feeling it churn inside me.
Her expression never changed. “The last time I saw my father alive, he had grabbed his belt and went after Haley. I grabbed the shotgun. The very last time I saw him alive, he was bleeding to death. Long before that day. Long before I pulled the trigger, I imagined doing it.”
“You planned it?”
Her eyes snapped to mine. “Of course, not.” She turned and wiped her hand under her nose. “What makes me sad is what Haley was thinking in her final moments. How scared she must have felt. I wonder if she thought of momma and me.”
“I’m sure she did.” I took a seat on the arm of the sofa.
“I’m glad it was you who told us about Haley. I could tell you were uncomfortable. You’ve been sweet.”
“Not a word that usually describes the NOPD.”
“I guess if you hadn’t found Haley, I’d still be chasing you down, huh.”
Cozy slid between my legs and wrapped her arms around me into a deep hug that lasted longer than normal. Her body heaved and bucked as the side of her head snuggled into my neck. Every noise possible escaped her nose and mouth. I gave her minute, then I stood and my hands found her elbows as I stepped away.
She wiped her face with her shirt and cleared her throat. “I guess you have to go. Go on, then. You don’t have to hang around. Maybe I’ll see you again after my momma dies.”
“Cozy, this isn’t the time to discuss that night.”
“When is? When do I get to talk to you?”
“Let’s get through this first and I promise we’ll talk. Just you and me over a cup of coffee. I promise.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. You’re right, though. I think you should do this alone, but I’ll wait in my car downstairs in case you need me.”
“Don’t make me feel bad about wasting your time. Just go home to your family. Just remember your promise.”
I pretended to acquiesce. “Okay. You have my number. Call for anything.”
“I will.”
I sat in my car with a beer outside of the apartment. Cozy’s hug had seeped all the way to my bones, like a hot shower. I can’t remember the last time Alicia had embraced me in a genuine moment like that. A nice memory of Alicia sleeping on my chest after watching a late movie came to mind and I relaxed.
Twenty minutes later, Cozy came out with the suitcase and spotted me. She waved with no surprise, as if knowing I had lied about going home. I felt for the girl… Smart, charming, resilient. It seemed the poor thing couldn’t catch a break.
Chapter 10
Cozy sucked in a breath from her Civic’s open window while admiring the decaying architecture of a city that had been built in the middle of nowhere. She learned in school that it had been the only major port city in the 1700’s. Why hadn’t it ever grown into a major metropolis like New York or Chicago? It had to be the fault of Southern politicians. She quickly returned to the curb in front of Haley’s apartment.
Lucas had been kind, but she could smell bullshit a mile away and knew he was going to wait for her to leave. Moments later, she skirted through the gate and up the scary steps to contemplate her sister’s total and utter violation. New Orleans had chewed her up and spit her out, right into the Mississippi.
When she was ten years old, she had wandered into the kitchen at three in the morning to get a cup of water, only to find her father sitting at the table in the dark with his hands around a tall bottle as if having a conversation with it. His shiny eyes had turned to her and he said, “I love your sister. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she had squeaked. In that moment, getting a glass of water suddenly lost all importance. She turned right around and went back to bed. Just minutes later, she heard Haley’s door open and she prayed that her sister wasn’t going into the kitchen. She’d been too naive to realize her sister had probably never left the room.
She picked up the cheap plastic phone, still connected to the landline. “Hello, Momma? I’m in New Orleans at Haley’s apartment.”
She rolled her eyes and tapped her foot as Momma lectured about responsibility, carelessness and lack of respect. She held the phone away from her ear. “Momma… Momma… Don’t be mad. No, do not send Ash.”
The discussion was one-sided as Cozy tried to spew halting syllables and broken half-words while her momma was in a state. In the end, she promised to return first thing in the morning, hung up and then fell into the lumpy, purple sofa.
Not having eaten since the grits at breakfast, she found a stack of fast food menus and ordered a pizza. She then grabbed several trash bags to begin separating the trash from what she might keep and what might offer a clue as to why her sister died. Haley had to have made friends. If only she could find the name of one.
One bag ended up stuffed with tacky clothes Cozy would never wear, and she finally stopped when her fingers shook too much to continue. She splashed cold water on her face in the bathroom and swallowed an Ibuprofen tablet from the medicine cabinet. An abrupt buzz from the intercom made her to jump.
She cautiously approached to press the speaker button. “Yes?”
“Papa John’s.”
“Upstairs. Apartment B.” She held the button for a few seconds to let him in the gate.
Footsteps echoed through the hall and she cracked the door a bit to make sure it was the delivery guy. The money-pizza exchange with the dumpy, middle-aged woman went quickly and she settled back on the couch, taking a few bites out of a slice while checking her surroundings again.
The cracked plaster walls were void of pictures or art, unless discolored patches that resembled images such as the Shroud Of Turin could be considered art. Haley hadn’t settled in to make this a home, yet. That was why she didn’t decorate or have personal touches around the place. Cozy stretched and attempted to hold down the rest of her slice of pizza. She didn’t want to live or have children or grow old without Haley. It was an empty feeling to only have one thing to live for, to avenge her sister’s death.
What the hell, Haley? What the hell?
A rapping on the door forced her head jerk up. “Yo, Haley. You in there? I saw your light on.” He sounded like the black men in rap songs. How’d he get in without buzzing, unless he knew the code?
Cozy put her eye to the peephole. Sure enough, a short, skinny black guy
with a Saints cap was on the other side. She spoke through an eighth inch of seam. “Haley isn’t here. Who are you?”
He looked confused. “Who you? Haley on vacation or sumptin’?”
“She’s not here.”
He wiped at his lips and tried to look through his side of the peephole. “Listen, here. Me and her – we friends. I ain’t seen her in a while.”
Cozy opened the door as far as the chain would allow. “What’s your name?”
The black man checked her up and down. “You her friend?”
“Her sister.”
A gold tooth appeared in a smile. “You don’t look much like her, but you got that same crazy-ass accent.”
“Name?”
“Titus.”
Must be the guy Lucas had said came by a few times. “You her drug daddy?”
“Drug daddy?” He mused. “What, ‘cause I’m black?”
“I ain’t a racist, but I ain’t stupid, either.” Cozy dipped her head. “Haley’s dead.”
“Dead? Get the fuck. What happened?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Listen here. I ain’t her drug daddy. I get her shit. She pay with green. That’s it.”
Cozy zeroed in on the chains around his neck. One of them was Haley’s alligator pendant. “Can I ask you a couple of questions?”
“You inviting me in?”
Cozy hesitated, needing to make a quick decision about her safety. But, why would he be looking for Haley if he had killed her? “Awright. C’mon.” Cozy closed the door, and then swung it open after the chain dropped.
Titus instantly dipped his shoulder as he strutted inside. “Shit, you got balls. A white girl inviting a nigga’ like me in. I guess all you Cajun bitches crazy.”
“You saying Haley was crazy?” Cozy noticed the butt of a gun sticking out of the back of his waistband.
“Nah, figger of speech. Serious shit, Haley was awright with me.”
Titus walked straight to the couch and sat as if that was his normal spot. He threw his Adidas covered feet onto the coffee table and watched as Cozy took a position on the armrest.
“You fine, girl.”
“You ever do anything else besides get her drugs?”
Titus seemed taken aback, as if no one ever questioned him before. “We ever do it? Yeah, I got in it.”
Her throat constricted. “Are you a pimp, too?”
He laughed. “Pimp? Yo, I guess I gots a few girls. Haley wasn’t one of them, you hear me? Not that I didn’t try. She was spoken for.”
“Spoken for? Haley was a prostitute?”
“She was no busted corner ho’ if that makes you feel better. She too fine to get fucked up on the curb, you get me? I set her up in the bigs. I gets me a finder’s fee when I bring in the phat ho’s.” His attention turned to her chest. “Crackers with money got with your sister by appointment, like some Uptown escort bitch.”
“Yeah, Titus, that makes me feel better.”
“I ain’t nothin’ if not real.”
“Who was her manager?”
“Now, what the fuck you want to know that for?” He leaned forward, exposing his weapon.
“How’d you get her alligator pendant?” She pointed.
He fingered it. “I helped her with some fast cash a long time ago.”
“Or maybe you took it after you killed her.”
His amusement waned. “Sounds like you investigatin’ shorty’s murder.”
“She’s my sister. If you didn’t kill her, then give up her pimp.”
Titus mildly chuckled and fell back into the couch. His eyes molested her again. “Now, I can’t give that info away for free.”
“So predictable. Is that what it’s going to take?”
“Listen here. If I’m going to take that kind of heat, there’s a price.”
Cozy sized him up. He was small, maybe 140 pounds, but cute in a boy-band kind of way. He probably grew up in the projects having to establish his street-cred every day, which would make him cocky and aggressive. Should she go down this road? It was possible that the name of Haley’s pimp was written somewhere in the apartment, but not likely. She doubted that Haley would admit to prostitution.
“I just found out my sister is dead and you want me to fuck you?”
“I like that. You fuck me. That’s rich, girl.”
She smirked back at him. “I ain’t nothin’ if not real.”
Titus tilted his head with a grin. “A man’s gotta take it where he can gets it. We each want something here.”
“What you got on you?”
“On me? Gun? Drugs? Dick? Can you be more specific?”
“Weed, Titus. What say you and me relax a little?”
“That’s good. I don’t do anything stronger than weed. See these teeth?”
“Braces?”
“Damn, right… My clean eyeballs… My liver, although you can’t see that… I’m not messing with this pretty package. I’d be happy to smoke what Haley liked if you get me a beer out the fridge.”
“She’s got Coors Light.”
“Now, we’re talking. I gots some powerful weed that’ll knock you on your ass.”
“Good, I’m going to need it.”
She walked on stiff legs to the refrigerator and pulled out two Coors Lights. Not even one day in New Orleans and she was already in over her head. Cozy stared him down as her feet slid forward, the bottlenecks numbing her fingers. Handing him the beer might as well be signing a contract. She braced herself to do the unimaginable. But, Haley deserved to be avenged.
“She was one of Molly’s girls,” Titus said as she took the beer.
Cozy grabbed a pen and wrote it down real quick. “Molly. Where can I find her?”
He laughed while drinking. “Oh, she’s around the Quarter.”
“I’m surprised you told me before we do it. What if I back out?”
He put the empty beer down and exposed his gums in a wide, gummy smile. “Oh, ain’t no backing out now.”
#
Cozy had talked Titus into having a second beer, but that empty bottle now sat next to the first one on the cheap coffee table next to his gun. His hands made a show of grabbing at his belt buckle, which flopped to his hips once undone. “Get yourself undressed, girl.”
“I don’t feel that good. That pizza…”
“Power through it.” Titus stood and let his jeans drop. His shirt came off, revealing ribs and stringy muscle under several dark tats.
She shifted her weight while undoing her shorts. Her skin felt dirty just standing that close to him. Her stomach flopped and she fell onto the sofa with her arms around her torso. “Seriously. I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Fuck you are.” Titus back-handed her and she almost flipped over the arm of the couch. “The time is now, bitch.”
Cozy appeared frightened on the outside, but Titus would never know the rage she felt on the inside. She shook the pain away to formulate a plan. She pushed down her shorts as Titus allowed his underwear to fall, his large dick wagging like an elephant’s trunk. She felt the blood run down her chin as Titus came near.
Chapter 12
Cozy stirred to the smell of stale beer and weed. Her nose sucked in air through a sour-smelling pillow while one arm hung off the side of the bed. Her other hand scratched at the panties riding up her ass, a reminder of the night before.
The advancing drug dealer invaded her memory and she pushed it away like an evil daydream. Shit. She lifted her head with a moan, releasing a pulse of blood to her brain that almost rendered her unconscious. However, she had to piss.
Blood tinted the majority of her body, with streaks staining the sheets. She wiped away drool residue and looked at the nightstand where she left the note. The paper next to the alarm clock gave the promise of a trail to follow. She reached out, unlocking stiff joints and stretching tight muscles. She read the note softly while rubbing her eyes. “Molly.”
Titus hadn’t clarified,
saying that she’d have to ask around on Bourbon Street and that way he wouldn’t get any heat. Little did he expect that retribution from the higher-ups would never transpire. Haley’s alligator pendant sat near the lamp. She kissed it and then secured it around her neck.
Her eyes snapped to the bathroom door as last night’s events clicked, making her stomach knot again. She balanced her weight onto each foot and stepped onto the chilly tiled floor, but only glanced at the tub. Just a few hours ago she had stood nearly paralyzed on that cold floor as Titus’ blood dripped to her toes. That same blood now dried to her skin.
She looked at the horror again. Titus sprawled in the crimson-stained tub with the knife planted deep, sticking out of his chest like a vampire stake. Her body went numb and her eyes rolled back, but she fought away the lightheaded feeling of faintness.
The sight immediately brought back that afternoon with her father, when she had basked in the relief his death had brought. She remembered fragments of sitting on the bed next to her father with her legs crossed, watching his blood glimmer as it stopped pulsing out onto the mattress, his surprised expression frozen in death. She could still see Haley cowering in a ball after having scurried from her bed where the beating had started. Her balance faltered and her knees gave out. She fell next to the toilet in a fit of hyperventilation, calming herself with the thought of preventing her own rape.
Oh, Titus… Titus… Titus.
She closed her eyes to force out the tears. Get the crying over with, she thought with an almost detached clarity. She turned onto her butt in order to ease her pounding headache. Clear thinking would be critical now. Clear thinking. Breathe. Think. Breathe. There was a dead drug dealer in the tub.
“Gut you like an alligator. I warned you, didn’t I?” Alligator – drug dealing pimp, not so different. If either one gets a hold of you, you’re fucked.
Saliva buckshot from her mouth in a full sob. She put her head between her knees for ten minutes. At least she had enough of her senses to push his legs, and his blood-soaked pants gathered at the ankles, the rest of the way into the tub. She imagined mounting Titus’ head above the apartment door.
She used the toilet to pull herself upright and opened the medicine cabinet for more ibuprofen, downing three capsules with a cupped hand of water. She had taken a human life… Again. But, he was a bad man, a rapist. Titus contributed to Haley’s demise and got what he deserved. A towel saturated from the faucet did a fine job of cleaning the blood off her skin. But that was just the start.
Where The Devil Won't Go: A Lucas Peyroux Novel Page 6
