Polly Iyer - Diana Racine 03 - Backlash

by Polly Iyer

  Cash knocked on Craven’s door. “Got a minute, Captain?”

  “Just the man I needed to see. Come in.”

  Cash entered, squaring his shoulders and standing tall. His height had given him advantages over the years.

  “Any lead on Lieutenant Lucier?” Craven asked.

  “Not a lead, exactly, but some insight. Ms. Racine believes he’s alive and being drugged.”

  Craven emitted a low snort. “She’s a piece of work, that one. Why does she think that, pray tell? I suppose she knows where he is too, huh?”

  Cash wasn’t sure how to handle Craven’s sarcasm. He believed in Diana and didn’t understand how the captain still had reservations after all she’d done to prove herself.

  “No, but she got a reading on the people who kidnapped him. Two of them, she said.”

  Craven stared at him with an air of disbelief. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why does she think Lieutenant Lucier is being drugged, and drugged how?”

  “She couldn’t read him, but she saw what was happening to him through the abductor. She saw the syringe.”

  The captain scrubbed his chin. “She was in the abductor’s head?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  Craven stared at Cash for an uncomfortable length of time. “Well, at least he’s alive, according to her,” he finally said.

  “She’s rarely been wrong,” Cash said.

  “She was big-time wrong a few months ago, which makes me question her this time.”

  The captain was right. Diana had been wrong, and her mistake almost cost both her and the lieutenant their lives.

  “Besides,” the captain said, “she claimed she couldn’t read Lucier. Everyone but him, he told me.”

  “She didn’t read him. She read around him.”

  “Yeah, well ―”

  “What do you think about questioning the card players to check their whereabouts when Beecher was attacked and the lieutenant taken?”

  Craven appeared pensive but nervously tapped his pencil on the desk. “Okay, but make the meetings official. I want this on the record. The abduction happened in the late morning, so they can’t use each other as alibis. Find out where they were and who they were with. Record the conversations. I don’t want this coming back and biting us in the ass.”

  “Gotcha. Halloran and I will meet with Beecher at the hospital to plan our next move, unless you have something particular in mind.”

  “No, go. If Ms. Racine is right, we don’t have any time to lose.”

  Cash left still trying to figure out the captain’s conflicting behavior. Was he patronizing him? A gentle pat on the head of the young whippersnapper and sending him on his way? Maybe he was, but he didn’t take Cash off the case and replace him with someone more experienced. That meant something.

  He called Halloran, who had just arrested a young man who shot into a crowd of people at a mall. Though a few were traumatized, no one was hurt.

  “World’s gone crazy, Willy,” Halloran said. “I’ll be along as soon as I can.”

  Cash reviewed the list of card players in his head. Rudy Hodge, Chris Michel, and Dave Rickett, along with the three dead cops: Denny Chenault, Marty Feldman, and Anton Alba, with Keys Moran sitting in occasionally. Were there others? Chenault, Alba, and Feldman were in Commander Lightner’s district. Michel and Rickett in Commander Goizueta’s. In researching the men, Cash remembered that Rickett had recently moved to New Orleans. Had he been in another city’s police department? Another state’s? Where had he gone through the academy? Cash guessed Rickett to be in his mid forties, too old to be starting out as a rookie. He’d definitely look into Rickett’s background more thoroughly, because he smelled something fishy.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Into a Little Boy’s Mind

  The nurse on duty at Children’s Hospital recognized Diana and must have heard the story of how she’d saved Alan Feldman’s life, because she didn’t hesitate to direct Diana to the boy’s room. Alan was sitting up in bed, his mother by his side trying to coax another bite of food into her son. Sheila Feldman looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks. Dark circles rimmed the pouches under her eyes. Alan, on the other hand, looked rested and ready to get back to his life. A hank of brown hair flopped onto his forehead, and healthy color had returned to his cheeks, rather than the flush of heat when he was in the trailer. Both mother and son brightened when they saw Diana.

  “You’re the psychic lady who saved me, aren’t you?” Alan said. “What you did is so cool. I can’t wait to tell all my friends. I’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

  “Don’t talk like that, Alan,” Sheila said to her son. She rose to take Diana’s hand. “I’m so glad to see you again. Alan is feeling much better, thanks to you. The doctor said he could leave this afternoon if all his vitals check out.”

  “I’m thrilled to hear that.” She motioned Sheila outside. “We’ve been trying to keep this quiet, but Lieutenant Lucier has been abducted.”

  Sheila’s hand covered her mouth. “Oh, my God. He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?” She blushed, embarrassed. “You two have been all over the papers since you had that serial killer after you.”

  “Yes, he is. I’m afraid he’s in serious danger. With your permission, I’d like to talk to Alan. Maybe he’ll remember something that will help us find the men who not only kidnapped Alan and Lieutenant Lucier, but also blackmailed your husband into committing murder. I’ll understand if you refuse. Alan’s been through a lot, and I wouldn’t want to upset him further.”

  Sheila chewed her lip for a moment. “Alan’s a strong boy. If he can help to bring these evil men to justice, I’m sure he will. Though Alan’s father and I weren’t on the best of terms, Alan adored him, and Marty felt the same way about him.” She stole a glance at her son, who was engrossed in a comic book. “I’m sure he’ll want to help.”

  Diana clasped Sheila’s hand. “Thank you very much.”

  “Did you see anything?” Sheila asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You touched me. Did you see something?”

  “My visions don’t work that way. I don’t see into people unless they purposely pass something to me or I concentrate on an article belonging to them. Otherwise, I’d go crazy. So, no, I saw nothing.”

  “Whew. Not that there’s anything bad to see, but still.”

  Diana smiled and approached Alan’s bed. Half a dozen comic books fanned out beside him, and he put the one he was reading down when Diana said his name.

  “I’d like to ask you some questions about what happened when the man or men took you away. I know you’ve told the police all you know, but I’m hoping you can remember something more. Something you may not realize you know.”

  “The men who took me to make Daddy do something so evil are real bad guys.”

  “That’s true. Your father did what he did to protect you, because you were the most important person in his life. He sacrificed himself for you. We can’t let the bad guys get away with what they did. Will you help me?”

  Tears ran down the Alan’s cheeks. Diana could see that he was trying to be a big boy and not cry.

  He sniffed. “If, if I can. What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to close your eyes and try and remember anything about the men who took you. Can you do that and tell me what you see?”

  “I already told that to the policeman who came here. I don’t think I was any help.”

  “Will you try again?”

  Alan glanced at his mother, who offered an encouraging nod. “Okay, I’ll try.”

  Taking hold of Alan’s small hand, Diana hoped she might see through his eyes. A longshot, for sure. But lately things were happening that had never happened before. Nothing to lose.

  Alan scrunched his eyes closed. So did Diana.

  Diana strained to hear the soft, little boy’s voice, but she could tell Alan was doing what she asked, which was bringing back to his consciousness one of the worst da
ys of his life.

  “I have a key to get in the house. Mom works making gift baskets in the basement, so I try not to disturb her. I didn’t see anyone, but when I put the key in the lock someone grabbed me from behind and slapped a piece of tape across my mouth. Then he threw a sack or something over my head and taped my wrists together.” He stopped, clutched himself around his chest. “The man’s hands were strong. I made noise in my throat and tried to break free, but I couldn’t. He lifted me off the ground and stuffed me into the back seat of a car. I heard the driver say, ‘Good,’ in the front.”

  All the while Diana was holding his hand, she tried to visualize what he saw, but this was one of those times nothing happened. Not one picture to help find the creeps who almost killed the boy.

  “Did you see his hands from the bottom of the hood?”

  “He wore gloves, kind of like the ones mom uses in the garden.”

  “What kind of car, Alan? Was it big or little? A van or an SUV or a pickup?”

  The boy thought, squeezing his closed eyes tighter. “I, yes, I remember now. I heard the sliding door open and close after he pushed me to the seat. So a van. Yes, a van.”

  “Good, Alan. Very good. So we have two men, a driver and the man who grabbed you? Is that right?”

  “Yes, I told that to the police, but not about the van. No one asked me, and I couldn’t think straight.”

  “You’re doing great,” Diana said, and wondered if the information mattered. Lots of people have vans. Did any of the suspects? And if they did, what then?

  “Did either man speak?”

  Alan nodded. “When I kicked and made as much noise in the car as I could, one of them told me to shut up or he’d hurt my mother.” He opened his eyes and looked at Sheila. His eyes filled with tears. “I shut up because I didn’t want them to hurt you.”

  “That’s all right, sweetheart,” Sheila said, patting her son’s arm. “You did the right thing.”

  “What kind of voice? High pitched? Deep? Raspy?”

  “A kind of fake voice.”

  “Fake how?”

  “Like really deep and whispery. Not a real voice.”

  “I think I know what you mean. Like someone pretending to sound like someone else.”

  “Yeah.”

  His eyes were wide open now. Diana wanted him back in remembering mode. “What happened next?”

  “I felt a prick in my arm and fell asleep.”

  “You don’t remember getting to the trailer?”

  “No. When I woke up, I was already there. They had taken off my hood. My mouth was dry, but the water didn’t work. Neither did the toilet, but I used it anyway. At first I was really groggy, like I am on school mornings. Then I got okay. I tried to get out, but all the doors were locked. There was nothing but the dirty mattress on the floor. No kitchen stuff or anything. I tried kicking out the windows, but they took my shoes. Everything I did made me more tired, because the inside was really hot. Then, I guess I fell asleep again.”

  “And you didn’t see anything else?” Diana asked, curbing her impatience.

  “Just the boots.”

  The minute Alan said the word boots, Diana saw them too. Cowboy boots. Fancy hand-tooled-leather cowboy boots.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Putting Three Heads Together

  Cash arrived at LSU hospital, checked in with the cop guarding Beecher, then entered his private room. Halloran was already there. Beecher’s eye was purple and fully closed

  “I gotta get out of here,” Beecher said, gesturing to the lumps of tan-colored gruel on his breakfast tray. “I’m going mad. If the damn doctor insists I lose weight, keeping me here eating this food will do the trick. God-awful stuff.”

  Cash would have laughed if he hadn’t known he’d incur Beecher’s wrath. “When did he say you could leave?”

  “They did another test this morning, and he said if the results came back clear, I could go after he sees me. I’ve got too much to do. We’ve gotta find Ernie, if he’s still alive.” The last part of his sentence was barely audible.

  “They’re shooting him full of drugs,” Cash said.

  “How do you know that?” Halloran asked.

  Cash brought his two team members up to date on what Diana had seen. “She’s at Children’s Hospital with the Feldman boy now. Maybe she’ll find out something else.”

  “If anyone can get more out of a kid, it’s Diana,” Beecher said.

  “Next best thing to killing the lieutenant is discrediting him,” Halloran said. “They’re going to throw him back a junkie. Take him out of the equation.”

  Cash had already surmised this, but hearing the truth so matter-of-factly from one of his partners made his stomach twist. He was about to agree when his phone vibrated. “Diana’s calling.”

  “Know anyone with hand-tooled cowboy boots?” she asked.

  “Um, no, but I’ll ask the others.” He did, and both Beecher and Halloran shook their heads. “No one here does. Anything else to go on?”

  “They were driving a van, and the only time one of them spoke, he altered his voice. But surely someone should recognize the boots, don’t you think?”

  “We’ll work on the boots and the van. Thanks, Diana.”

  “Boots, huh?” Beecher said. “Who the hell could that be?”

  Halloran shrugged. “Plenty of guys with boots in this town, but I don’t remember seeing anyone on the force with hand-tooled cowboy boots. Doesn’t mean there isn’t someone. I’ll put the word out.”

  “No, don’t,” Beecher said. “Let’s keep that to ourselves. The wrong person might hear.”

  “Or the right one,” Cash said.

  “Exactly.”

  Cash flipped open his notebook. “I’ve been thinking about our list of suspects. Chenault, Alba, and Feldman were in Commander Lightner’s district. Do you think he could be involved? I mean there has to be a boss, don’t you think?”

  “I would have figured Chenault if he hadn’t turned up dead, but Lightner?” Halloran said. “I don’t know. Seems like he’s putting in his time until retirement.”

  “Michel and Rickett are in Commander Goizueta’s district,” Cash said. “What about him?”

  “Never done anything bold as far as I can remember,” Beecher said. “The boss doesn’t have to be a commander. Hell, he could be Craven, for all we know.”

  Cash shook his head vehemently. “No way. He’s the lieutenant’s friend.”

  Beecher snorted. “You ain’t got no friends when your ass is on the line. Still, I can’t see him doing anything to hurt one of his men.”

  “Okay, then,” Halloran said. “We know about Chenault, Alba, and Feldman, but they’re dead and ain’t talking. The lieutenant felt sure that Hodge was involved. He was hunching, and with no proof, we got nowhere to go. Besides him, that leaves Michel and Rickett.”

  Beecher swung his table tray to the side. “Rickett’s a bigot. Found that out at Kitty’s the day of Moran’s funeral. Insinuated some shit to Lucier about blacks and gays.”

  “He’s partnered with Michel,” Halloran said.

  “Sometimes,” Cash said. “Rickett came here a few months ago, and he’s partnered with a few guys. Probably trying to find someone who can put up with him.”

  “Where’d he come from?” Halloran asked. “That’s what I want to know.”

  “I couldn’t find out,” Cash said. “He had to have gone through the academy or something. You can’t just transfer into another force without going through training.”

  “No, you can’t,” Beecher said.

  “I’ll ask the captain,” Halloran said. “Maybe he knows.”

  Beecher sipped his juice. “Still, the murders go back some, long before Rickett got here.”

  “So what now?” Cash asked.

  “We need to find out where these guys were when I was clocked and the lieutenant was taken, and ―”

  “Where they were when the boy was kidnapped.”

  �
��Right,” they all said in unison.

  The door opened, and the doctor entered. Cash would never have taken this guy for a doctor. Young, tall, and big like a weightlifter, with a pony tail halfway down his back.

  “Tests came back clear.” With a smirk, he said to Beecher as he took his blood pressure, “I know you’d rather stay around here, but we need the room.”

  “Yeah, Doc, I’d love to stay, but it’s only fair I make way for another poor victim, um, I mean patient.”

  The doctor snickered. “No aspirin for a couple of days, ice your eye, and take it easy, if that’s possible.” He pulled a small booklet out of his tunic pocket. “Here’s a diet. Go on it. You need to lose twenty pounds. Thirty would be better. And in a couple of weeks, go to the gym and get yourself in shape. You’re a heart attack waiting to happen.”

  “I’ll make sure he does, Doc,” Halloran said.

  Cash laughed at the dirty look Beecher aimed at Halloran. “So will I,” Cash said.

  “Shee-it,” Beecher said. “Some friends you are.”

  “If they follow through, they are your friends,” the doctor said before leaving the room.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Beecher said. “Now, I’ll call the captain and tell him I’m back on the job. Cash, you check out Hodge; Halloran, take Rickett. We’ll follow through with Michel after. Me? I’m going home for a shower and a change of clothes. “Diet, bah!” he mumbled.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Lucier’s Nadir

  Daggers of pain sliced through Lucier’s clenched stomach muscles as he forced himself to stand. He gripped the railing, but the pain intensified. Pain different from any he’d ever experienced. He knew what his captors were doing, and he knew what he needed to make the pain go away. He had no doubt they would give him another shot. Worst part, God help him, is he wanted to feel the drug sluice through his bloodstream.

  They had increased the frequency of the shots, then stopped to prove their point. When the pain hit again, sharper, and into every part of his body, muscles and joints, he found no strength to resist.