“You did it out of guilt.”
“Deep, deep guilt. I was sixteen when I made the hugest mistake of my life.” His lip never sneered and his eyes were earnest.
I let him sit with that statement before pointing where his plate had been. “What’d you eat?”
It took a second for him to answer. “Pecan pancakes.”
“They cook the pecans in the batter or are they just topped off?”
“Cooked in.” He relaxed. “This ain’t no amateur joint.”
The waitress came with a cup of coffee and topped off Ashton’s. She left for another table and I continued. “Listen, date rape aside, I’m going to ask you a few questions and your answers will determine whether I drag your ass back to New Orleans in cuffs.”
“Okay.” His pimples flared.
“Were you aware we had found Haley’s cell phone when her body was recovered?”
“No, sir. I had no idea.”
I sipped my coffee, letting the words settle. “There were prints on the inside cover, but only one was usable. Guess whose print it was.”
“I would guess Hale’s.”
“Remember what I said about your answers and cuffs. You dad showed me the Molly’s Girls napkins.”
“Fuck.” He slumped against the backrest.
“Start from the beginning.”
“Alright, alright, but let me tell you right now I didn’t kill her.”
“Noted.”
He exhaled before choosing his words. “I started taking little weekend trips to the Quarter to look for Haley.”
“How’d you know to look in the Quarter?”
“The Quarter’s the best place to live if you don’t have a car. If she was in that area, I figured I’d run into her at some point, right? Well, sure enough I found her stripping at Molly’s Girls.”
“And you kept it to yourself?”
“She begged me. We had long talks about her future and what to do with her money and where she would live.”
“Is that what was written down on those bar napkins?”
“Can’t believe my dad showed you those.” He rolled his eyes. “We were figuring out how to get her life legit. You know, paying taxes and all that shit. She actually wanted a 401k. Then, she was going to have me go rescue Cozy.”
“Tell me about the cell. She just got it, so you obviously saw her right before the murder.”
“No.” He waved his finger spastically. “I helped Haley pick out that phone. She pulled the back cover off, but I put it back on for her. She had just got her driver’s license, too. She had her birth certificate and Social Security card, but was really excited about having the license.”
“She was old enough to be out on her own. Why all the secrecy?”
He hesitated with an answer. “She needed to be away from Cozy for a while. Not forever, just ’till her life got straight. Things happened to her, things that no one should go through.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t offer me teasers. You have a murder charge hanging over your head. I’m giving you a chance to convince me otherwise.”
“When Haley moved to New Orleans, she was pregnant and got an abortion.”
“Your baby, Romeo?”
“No, I wish it was.” He tapped his spoon on the table, unable to look at me.
“Then who? One of these Bubbas out here?”
“No. Think about whose sick baby she wouldn’t want to have.”
“Her father.”
He nodded and his eyes filled, not able to part his lips.
“He used to rape her?”
“Just the once, she claimed. She said it never happened before. And, I believed her, sir. The first night I found Haley in the Quarter, we got drunk and she told me everything. Poor thing was crying so hard she could barely speak. The bastard thought he could beat Haley into a coma and that’s when Cozy shot him.”
“Does Cozy know about the rape or abortion?”
“Cozy never knew any of that. Haley protected her.”
“So, you wanted to stay with Haley in New Orleans despite the incest, despite the abortion.”
“We’re all fucked up in one way or another, right?” He wiped his face dry. “I wanted to make it work, but Haley didn’t.”
“No?”
“She dated some guy a while. Then, she started seeing this woman from the place she worked. She was in love according to her.”
“A dancer?”
“A manager.”
“Tabitha Wheelhouse?”
“Yeah, Tabby. With Haley’s life, can you blame her for going lesbo?”
“What’s your relationship with Cozy’s mother?”
“I figure if I hang around, do stuff for her, she might give my Dad a chance. He deserves to have someone. There’s nothing going on with us, detective.”
I sipped my coffee, thinking Ashton had bought a reprieve for the moment. He actually seemed like a nice kid in a tough environment. “I’m not going to take you in, but don’t leave town alright? Not even to New Orleans. If I find out you crossed the parish line, I’m locking you up.”
He nodded, and drained the rest of his coffee.
As I left The Wharf, my cell phone rang. It was Tara telling me to meet her back at the station.
#
“Man, have I got some updates for you,” I announced out loud while bounding into our work area. My partner relaxed at her desk in her nice, blue church dress and she wasn’t alone. The young lady from Winning One waved from my desk with a demure smile, looking more like a beauty queen contestant than receptionist. She had on khaki shorts, slip on sneakers, and a Cowboy Mouth T-shirt.
“You remember Ms. Amy Shultz?” Tara asked. “The desk called me in when she showed.”
Amy waved. “I called the number on your card, but it went to voicemail.”
“I didn’t get the call. What’s going on here?” I rounded my desk and held my hand out for her to shake.
She pulled out a piece of paper and pressed it into my palm. “I have something you might be interested in.”
Tara gave me the stink eye. “She insisted on waiting for you.”
I opened the paper, which looked to be a scan of someone’s writing. It had the capital letters ‘MA’ and a phone number. “What’s this from?”
Amy held up her phone. “That was Harry’s. I took the picture and printed it out for you.”
“Whose number is this?” I asked while handing the paper to Tara.
“I don’t know, but it has something to do with your investigation.”
“Technically, we don’t have an investigation anymore.” Tara sat on her desk as I found a chair. “You’re going to have to explain from the beginning.”
“I quit last night. Harry and I have been having an affair for about a year. It took me this long to realize he was never going to leave his wife. Last night a light bulb went off in this stubborn head of mine. After he thought I fell asleep, he pulled out that paper and called some guy, but I could only make out a few words here and there.”
“How do you know it was a guy?” I asked.
She blinked. “Oh, I don’t know. I just assumed.”
“How do you know it has to do with us?” Tara asked.
“That I do know because he said Peyroux.”
“You know the name of the person he called?”
“No, but I’m guessing the M.A. are his initials.”
“How much of the conversation did you make out?” Tara asked.
“He was being threatened. He said your name – Peyroux and he also said Apex.”
“Apex?” I asked.
“Definitely Apex. Could that be a European name? The ‘A’ in M.A?”
“I’ll get a trace on the number,” Tara said.
“Whatever we do, we can’t let the Feds know.”
Amy became concerned. “The FBI? Is Harry being investigated by the FBI?”
“We can’t comment on that. Does Harry know you took this picture?” I asked.
<
br /> “Not a clue.”
“So, are you ready to be truthful about that party?”
Her eyes widened. “That was the truth, Lucas. I didn’t know of any party.”
“That’s alright. He didn’t want you to know.” I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“What is he into?”
I ignored her question and tilted my head, motioning for Tara to follow me out of earshot of Amy. I whispered, “We stopped questioning Harry. I’m guessing M.A. stands for Winslow’s boss – whoever that is.”
“Obviously, not Raymond Corondelet.”
“Are we at the point of ignoring orders?” I bit my bottom lip while waiting for answer that never came.
#
Alicia attacked the soccer ball, aggressive about what she wanted, just like her father. Pure joy crossed her daughter’s face every time her foot made contact and Heather suppressed the resentment for his working so much lately, especially when it didn’t seem he needed to.
The game ended. After all the post-game shenanigans and victory speeches, Alicia sprinted back to the sidelines. The other parents packed up and left like specially trained Navy Seals on their way to Pizza Hut to celebrate, clogging up the side street. Alicia and Jane were the last ones left on the field chatting it up. When they finished, Jane ran in the opposite direction and Alicia strolled towards her.
“Alicia, let’s go. Hurry up.” Heather put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. All of the other parents were in their cars, lined up to get out of the neighborhood.
“Chill out, Mom. Look at the street. We’re not going anywhere.”
Heather stopped about fifty yards from the car to pull out her key. She turned to look at Alicia, whose ponytail whipped in the hot breeze. Her face was dirty and the jersey’s underarms were wet. “I know. I just want to get in the air condition.”
Not a second later, the car exploded into a fireball. Heather instinctively covered her daughter’s head. Alicia shrieked, staring at the wreckage in a state of shock. Bystanders gathered and got out of their cars. Cell phones took video.
“Holy crap! Why did our car blow up?” Alicia asked in a squeaky voice.
“I don’t know, honey. I don’t know. But, I’m going to call your father.”
Heather and Alicia took slow, cautious steps toward the car. Sirens in the distance grew louder by the second.
#
I opened the unlocked door and entered Harry Winslow’s house without knocking or ringing the bell. I listened for the scratching claws or bark of an attack dog, ready to shoot it. The house was sprawling, decorated in marble and mirrors, but my momentum took me right into the industrial sized kitchen where his wife hovered over a spread of hot dogs, potatoes, and burgers.
She startled, grabbing a knife. “Who are you? I’ll use this.”
“No doubt. I need your husband. Where is he?”
“You want Harry? You don’t knock? You barge right into our home?” She placed the knife down.
“I don’t have time to explain. Where is he?”
“You don’t tell me who you are, I’m calling the police.” She reached for her cell phone.
I held up my badge. “Mrs. Winslow, I am the police. Is he out there? Outside?”
His two kids had just escaped through an open sliding glass door and I covered that ground in seconds. When I reached the patio, Harry was already heading towards me with a long fork wearing an apron. My right hand found his throat, pushing him backwards as my left hand kept his weapon at bay. I pushed until he fell into his patio chair with my weight over his.
“Hi, Harry. How are you? Doing good, I hope.” I banged the barbeque fork out of his hand and eased up on his throat. “You weren’t going to stab me with that, were you?”
“You’re that detective…” He choked. “What are you doing?”
“Leave my daddy alone, mister.” The older kid said as his sword swatted my thigh.
“I’m a policeman, little man. I’m not going to hurt your dad. He just scared me with that big fork.” Guilt set in as his older brother pulled the kid inside.
“I’m calling 9-1-1,” his wife yelled. “The real police.” She stood there with the phone in her hand, waiting for her husband’s okay.
“You gonna be calm, Harry? If I get off you, can we talk in a civil manner?”
Harry nodded. “It’s fine, honey. This is a misunderstanding. Put the phone down and keep the kids inside.”
I backed off and pulled a chair next to him. When the sliding door had shut, I said, “One of your imaginary party guests tried to kill my wife.”
“What?”
“The Feds are either protecting one of their own or someone high up. You squashed my investigation of your company, so why was there an explosive device placed under my wife’s car?”
“Someone put a bomb in your wife’s car?” His hand rubbed his stomach as if sick.
“Yes, and it detonated. Luckily there were no casualties.”
“I have no idea about that.”
“Really? What about Apex? It might be in your best interest to tell me what you know.”
Harry pulled a pill bottle from his shorts, popping one in his mouth. “They do that to your wife’s car, what do you think will happen to me?”
“At this point, I don’t give a shit about you. Maybe your wife would like to know the kinds of benefits your pretty blonde employees really get.”
He lowered his voice to a growl. “That ended.”
“Who is M.A?”
“You know about Apex? You don’t know shit.”
“I need to know who’s in charge. Your best chance is to tell me.”
“Over half the people we cater to have the kind of connections that the mob would envy. Once wind got out that there was an investigation, they got very nervous. Made lots of calls, many of them to me. I’m the one that orders the Almas Caviar that was found in that girl’s stomach. I’m the reason my clients are nervous. I’m lucky to still be alive and you really think I have the power to call it off?”
“I don’t think you have any power at all. I need to know who does.”
“If I were you, I’d concentrate on protecting your wife and daughter. That bomb was a warning or they’d be dead.”
I almost struck him across the face. Harry Winslow, Esquire, was a mid-level link on the food chain, nowhere near calling the shots, unless he was a great actor. There always seemed to be a bigger fish. I stared at him and God help me, Chance came to mind.
Chapter 35
Tabby leaned in close to apply the smoky shadow around Cozy’s eyes. That, with the new hairstyle, made her virtually unrecognizable from the homeless girl who had appeared right off the street. Cozy wore a green, strapless evening gown, much like she had seen in bridal magazines, but was curious about the outfit they expected her to wear at the party. Another glass of wine would help calm her nerves.
Tabby poured two glasses. “So, Ray was cooperative?”
“Not at all. Very closed-lipped.”
“You must have tried to work that bayou charm.”
“My charms had no effect on that man. After he changed the subject a couple of times, I decided to let it go. But, I’m not through by a long shot. I’ll find out who Haley was with at the party tonight from one of the other girls.”
“If you ask any questions, Ray will hear about it.”
Cozy finally made eye contact. “I’d rather not talk about Ray.”
“Sure, but it’s just that he hasn’t called me yet and he isn’t answering. With your going over there, he should have rang me up as soon as you walked out the door.”
“Who knows with that guy? How do I look?”
“You are absolutely stunning.” Tabby inspected her creation. “You could pass for fifteen or twenty-five, depending on what they’re looking for.”
“So, you know who I’m getting tonight?”
“Senator Folsom, I think.”
“Folsom?” This wasn’t a coincidence.
<
br /> Tabby continued, “Usually, the participants pick the girls out, but you were chosen by the VIP you serviced the other night specifically for the Senator.” Tabby entwined her fingers with Cozy’s, who stood with a bland expression. They faced each other in a moment of silence. Tabby placed her hands on Cozy’s waist. “Like I’ve said; you can’t fish for information with the Senator. Questions are not allowed.”
“I know.”
“If you have it in your head that he killed your sister, you might do something you’ll regret.”
Cozy turned away. “Either way, is Folsom all that innocent?”
“Don’t go down that road.”
“What?”
Tabby caressed her forearm. “It’s not up to you to decide who’s guilty or their degree of guilt. You’ve already killed two people in your lifetime.”
“I’ll be good.” Cozy didn’t lift her arms, but forced a smile as Tabby pulled her close.
“What are your plans afterwards?” Tabby asked. “When you’re done with this mission of yours?”
“Depends on if I get caught. You?”
“Rethink my life. Maybe get out of the game.”
“Ray won’t be too happy with that, I imagine.”
“He’d be hurt, but he knows my heart isn’t with Molly’s anymore. Maybe I should call him again.”
Cozy touched her wrist. “Oh, he did say he had a meeting in Baton Rouge.”
“Baton Rouge on a Sunday?”
“Something about a casino.”
“He’s probably hob-nobbing with the politicians up there. The mayor and City Council isn’t enough anymore. He so wants to get close to the governor. I think he may run for office one day. I think this city would love that he owned a strip club.” Tabby rose onto her toes to kiss Cozy on the forehead.
#
Tabby chauffeured Cozy and three other girls down the oak-lined entrance of a magnificent three-story plantation home situated behind acres of vibrant green grass. She had never seen anything so majestic and, considering its history, so tragic. Tabby informed her passengers that this place was used for weddings, private dinner parties and political fundraisers for many black politicians – ironic, given the number of slaves that had been abused on this very land.
Where The Devil Won't Go: A Lucas Peyroux Novel Page 19
