Gotta Get Next To You

by Emery, Lynn

  ***

  It was another manic Monday. Andrea was grateful for the madness, though. It meant she had not seen Jamal. Andrea was not sure if she could face him without remembering the heat of their embrace. She spent the morning either in her office or Katy’s, handling administrative chores. After three hours of paperwork and phone calls, Andrea was able to take a deep breath and a break. Katy brought her a mug of steaming coffee.

  “Here you go, boss lady. I figured you needed this after that conversation with the district manager,” Katy said.

  “Bless you.” Andrea accepted the cup and sipped from it. “Wonderful!” She rocked back in her chair.

  “I could tell from your expression it wasn’t pleasant.” Katy leaned against Andrea’s desk.

  “Not the best way to start the week, no.” Andrea started to say more, then stopped. She got up and closed her office door. “Some of the missing equipment is state property. How could two computers, six chairs, a desk, and an X-ray device be misplaced?”

  “This office is too small for that, and we both know it.” Katy grunted and leaned back in her chair.

  “That was Karen Normand’s point on the phone. And of course, she brought up the missing coupons.” Andrea shook her head slowly. “I told her all we can do is our best to find out what happened, and then move on. But…” She put the coffee mug down.

  “Yeah, we’ve still got problems.” Katy tapped a finger on the side of her ceramic mug. “So what are we gonna do?”

  Andrea rocked and thought while Katy sat with a pensive frown on her face. Minutes ticked by as they sipped coffee and pondered solutions to their problems. After a time, Andrea let out a loud sigh.

  “Katy, I’m going to document everything that’s missing and follow the trail as far as I can.” Andrea looked at her. “That includes questioning former staff again.”

  Katy’s eyes widened. “Whoa, does that include Thelma? She and those slimy relatives of hers won’t be happy.”

  “I’m not going to be intimidated. I’ll haul her rear end before the board of aldermen if I have to. This involves parish money.”

  “Uh, you’ve been away a long time. Let me explain the facts of life around here. Three of her cousins are big-time contributors to election campaigns for at least two police jurors and three town aldermen.” Katy pursed her mouth into an “O”.

  “I know. So let them sweep it under the rug. At least we’ll have done everything we could,” Andrea said.

  “And made some enemies in the process, boss lady.”

  “They’re already pissed with me. Ask me if I care,” Andrea said.

  Katy grinned crookedly. “You got a point, darlin’. Besides that, they’re not dumb enough to mess with Mr. John Mandeville.”

  Andrea tensed. “What have you heard? What are people saying about him and the clinic?”

  “Just that he’s the power behind the scenes. But what else is new. He—” Katy broke off and stared at her. “What’s wrong? You look like you just ate something bad.”

  “Nothing. Forget it. Go on with what you were saying.”

  “You know how he likes to keep his finger in every pie.” Katy went on a diatribe about interference from local politicians.

  Andrea relaxed a bit as Katy’s voice faded into the background. Thank God there was no talk about her and John Mandeville. But then most young folks wouldn’t know and their elders would be too scared to talk about it openly. No one would risk Mandeville’s legendary wrath. He held too many jobs in his hands. Still she did not care for herself as much she did about the effect on the clinic. What was that old saying about sins of the father? In this case it was mother and father.

  “But forget those clowns. We’ll focus on what counts, the patients,” Katy said.

  “Yeah. I’m not really worried about it. I just don’t want it to cloud the real issue, which is our impact on health problems.” Andrea gazed out her window at passing cars on the downtown street.

  “I know.” Katy sighed and sipped the last of her coffee. “Have Denny and Jamal made any progress on sorting through those records?”

  “I haven’t talked to them yet.”

  “Remember that you’re supposed to meet with them. The sooner we have answers for Ms. Normand, the bet-ter.” Katy stood.

  Andrea’s stomach fluttered at the thought of being close to Jamal so soon. At least they would not be alone. “I’ll meet with them later on today.”

  “I think things out front have slowed down. Want me to get them for you?” Katy opened the door. “Might as well deal with it now. I know that woman. She’s like a dog with a bone.”

  “Sure,” Andrea said after a pause. The last thing she needed was to let Katy or anyone else detect tension between her and Jamal. That would start a whole new set of rumors spinning.

  She smoothed the front of her tan cotton shirt. It was neatly tucked into a navy blue skirt. Andrea inhaled and exhaled five times in preparation for his appearance. As seconds ticked by she drummed her fingers on the desk blotter. Realizing it, she laced them together to keep them still. Jamal knocked on the half-opened door and walked in.

  “Hi,” he said.

  Andrea cleared her throat. “Hi.”

  He entered cautiously, unsure of his reception. “Katy said you wanted to meet with me.”

  “Yes, and Denny. I want to know how much progress y’all have made with the records.” Andrea kept her gaze on a point just above his shoulder. “Is he coming?”

  “Denny drove his grandmother to a cardiology appointment. He won’t be back until after lunch sometime.” He shut the door behind him.

  Andrea blinked at the closed door. “Oh.”

  She bit her lower lip, and then looked up at him. He couldn’t give her a break, could he? Here he stood, fine as ever in khaki chinos and a sage green knit cotton shirt. The short-sleeved shirt emphasized the rippling muscles in his arms whenever he moved. The familiar craving to touch him hit her full force.

  “We could put this off until you can meet with both of us. If you’d be more comfortable, that is.”

  “No,” Andrea said sharply. She lifted her chin. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable with you?”

  “I guess I shouldn’t assume this is as hard for you as it is for me,” he said in a quiet voice.

  Andrea picked up an ink pen and fidgeted with it. “How is that?” The flutter of anxiety in her stomach was replaced with anticipation.

  “I know we agreed on all the reasons we shouldn’t get involved.”

  “Very good reasons,” Andrea said.

  “Sure, and I still agree,” he rushed to add. Then he sighed. “But keeping the other day out of my mind isn’t so easy.”

  “We knew it wouldn’t be.” Andrea risked a brief glance at him. Looking into those eyes was too much and she turned her gaze away quickly. “But we did agree that getting involved was a horrible idea.”

  “We never said ‘horrible,’ ” he replied. “I mean …” “No, I didn’t intend for it to come out that way,” Andrea put in. “Just that it’s not a very good idea. Right?” Jamal didn’t answer right away, but when he did, his response lacked conviction. “Yeah.”

  Andrea swallowed hard. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Right. We’ll get over it.” She forced herself to smile and hoped that it looked more genuine than it felt. “On to business then. I hope you have good news about the records.”

  Jamal nodded as though silently agreeing to follow her lead. “About the records, let’s see.” He sat down in the chair across from her. “There’s still a lot of missing pieces.”

  “I said good news.” Andrea’s brows drew together. “Sorry, but you know what condition the last crew left them in.” Jamal lifted a shoulder. “I’m surprised we were able to put together as much as we have. But we still can’t exactly track all medications or even find all the invoices we need.”

  “Dam it!” Andrea slapped an open palm on the desk. Jamal stared at her. “I thought you weren�
�t that concerned about it.”

  “The previous director submitted a final report. I was to tie up a few loose ends and then start fresh. At least that’s what I was told at first.” Andrea grimaced. “But now I’m being held accountable for finding out what happened before I got here.”

  “They can’t really blame you, can they? I mean, it didn’t happen on your watch.” Jamal leaned forward, el-bows propped on his knees.

  “Yeah, well, I haven’t made friends with some of the decisions I’ve made recently. Especially about personnel.”

  “You mean that nurse who was the clinic manager and Shonda. Got ya.” Jamal rubbed his chin. “They’ve both got friends in high places. At lot of Shonda’s relatives run errands for some of the local politicians.” “How do you know all this? You’ve only been in

  Lafourche Parish a few months.” Andrea raised an eyebrow.

  “Almost a year really.”

  “There are people who’ve lived in Bayou Blue for twenty years and they’re still considered outsiders.” Andrea’s eyes narrowed. “And the natives don’t talk about certain things to outsiders.”

  “I’ve made some good friends in the last few months. Especially working here.” His brown eyes twinkled. “Folks appreciate it when you help them out.”

  “And it loosens their tongues, eh?” Andrea laughed.

  “Let’s just say they like to chat.” Jamal tilted his head to one side.

  “I may not have said so, but you do a great job around here. And not just with computers and filing. I’ve seen the way you pitch in and talk to the patients.” Andrea smiled at him. When he smiled back die world seemed brighter.

  “Thanks. That means a lot to me,” he said.

  “And I really appreciate the way you’ve gotten through to Denny.”

  “He was messing up pretty bad, huh?” Jamal wore a serious expression.

  “Between us, I was afraid I’d have to fire him.” Andrea shrugged at his raised eyebrows. “He handled a lot of things for Thelma and the rest of those bums. It looked as though he knew more than he was telling.”

  “But you don’t feel that way now?” He gazed at her intently.

  “Honestly, the jury is still out. But he’s gone a long way toward proving himself. You can take a lot of credit for helping his attitude. He seems to follow your lead,” Andrea said.

  Jamal shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “Don’t give me too much credit.”

  “I know you spend some of your free time with him.” He looked up at her sharply. “You do?”

  “Sure. And I think it’s great. He’s a smart young man. With the right guidance he could really make something of his life.” Andrea’s businesslike reserve was slipping fast. She couldn’t help it. Jamal was a caring, giving man despite the devilish persona he adopted at will.

  “Don’t be too sure I’m the right role model.” He seemed uneasy with the compliments.

  “I wish I could take your picture right now.” Andrea grinned. “You look so humble and bashful. I expect you to say ‘Aw shucks’ any minute.”

  Jamal shook his head. “No, just being honest. I was a wild kid myself once, and I can’t say I’m completely re-formed. So don’t fit me with a halo just yet.”

  “Okay, so I’ll hold off on the halo. But I still say you’re a good guy.” Andrea felt warmth now that went past physical desire. She had a growing respect for him as a man.

  “Thanks.” Jamal stood up quickly as though eager to escape. “Look, I think I can help you out on those records. Give me a few more days, maybe a week.”

  “Do what you can. And don’t put in too many long hours,” she said softly. “You look tired.”

  Jamal turned to leave, but hesitated. He faced Andrea again. “I haven’t been sleeping all that well for the last few days.”

  ‘Tell me about it,” she murmured. ‘Too much on my mind, I suppose.”

  “Yeah, that’s probably it.” He gazed at her for several seconds, then started out again. “I’ll let you know something as soon as I can.”

  “Thanks,” Andrea called after him. “Then we can get back together.”

  Andrea stared at the spot where he’d sat for a long time after he was gone.

  Chapter 13

  Lee arrived at the Lafourche Parish sheriff’s substation in the small town of Cut Off at 5:50 that evening. He made it a practice to be ten minutes early for appointments he was uneasy about. It gave him a chance to look around. He didn’t like the idea that Sheriff Boudreaux was Mandeville’s pal.

  The building was red brick and small. Three deputies passed him in the space of two minutes, each wearing sober expressions as though intent on fighting crime. Lee looked around for a few minutes. He read the bulletin board and observed the activity around him. At 5:59 he gave his name to a female deputy at the front desk and sat down on a wooden bench to wait. Mandeville strode in seconds later. He grinned at the attractive woman with shocking red hair and freckles that stood out against her fair skin.

  “Hey, Tish. How’s life treating the cutest law officer in Louisiana?”

  “Can’t complain, Mr. Mandeville. Well, I could, but who wants to hear?” She grinned. “Go on back.”

  “All right, darlin’.” John turned to Lee and shook hands with him. “Hello, Matthews. Let’s go on down to Harley’s office.”

  Mandeville walked on unchallenged. Several deputies spoke to him by name. Lee looked around as he followed him. They went through a large room with desks. Two burly white deputies watched Lee with hooded expressions. Mandeville led them down a short hall at the end of which was a door with a frosted-glass window. Mandeville went in without knocking. The room was small with a gray metal desk in the center. The only items on it were a phone and one file folder. Sheriff Boudreaux stood up when they entered. He was thin and developing a slight paunch. Lee guessed his age at somewhere around fifty. His brown hair was streaked with gray and starting to thin at the top.

  “How y’all doin’?” he said in a thick Cajun accent. “I haven’t seen you in a while, T-John. And when you do show up, you bring bad news.” His bushy brows drew down.

  “Hey, Harley. You look good.” John slapped his palm into Boudreaux’s hand and shook it firmly. “Think of it this way, we’re going to help you keep this parish safe.”

  “Uh-huh.” Sheriff Boudreaux grunted and turned his attention to Lee; his frown deepened. “With a private detective?”

  “Harley, Lee Matthews is one of the sharpest private detectives around.” John pointed to Lee with an affable expression.

  “Yeah,” Boudreaux said. He shook Lee’s hand and dropped into the chair behind his desk. “So, John, tell me. Why are you a citizen crime fighter all of a sudden?”

  John and Lee sat down in two faded pea green vinyl chairs. “I’ve been working with Bayou Blue to help them get that clinic on its feet.”

  “Got your hand in everything as usual.” Boudreaux’s mouth lifted at one end.

  “I’m interested in improving the community, yes.” John smiled at him. “Unfortunately the clinic hasn’t lived up to my expectations.”

  “What you mean is two or three folks over at the clinic screwed the place up.”

  “Yes, but it goes deeper than that. Some of the equipment is missing. That’s bad enough. But Lee thinks we’ve got a more serious problem brewing.” John nodded to Lee.

  “Actually I think a serious problem is about to get a whole lot worse,” Lee said.

  “How’s that?” Boudreaux rocked his chair back and forth. He looked at John instead of Lee.

  “I’m pretty sure drugs have been stolen from the small clinic pharmacy,” Lee answered in a firm voice.

  Boudreaux’s easygoing expression disappeared when he looked at Lee. “You got proof?”

  “I’ve been working at the clinic for almost two months. The records are in shambles. We can’t be sure all the drugs were given to patients,” Lee said.

  Boudreaux shrugged. “Don’t mean somebody’s been stea
lin’ ’em. Could be you just had some sloppy record keepers.”

  “That’s only part of it. One of the employees is involved with a local gang. I think he’s been stealing for them.”

  “We figure they’re selling the stuff on the street. A lot of drugs could move through the clinic,” John said in a grave tone.

  Lee wanted to laugh but kept a straight face. “Yeah, right. Anyway, I told this kid that I want in on the deal. Denny might tell me more any day now.”

  “But he hasn’t said anything yet?” Boudreaux asked.

  Lee shook his head. “No. He’s more than likely checking it out with Ty’Rance Wilson. He’s—”

  “I know who he is,” Boudreaux broke in. “He’s scum, has been since he was a kid.”

  “Yeah, I get the impression he’s a bad guy, real mean,” Lee said.

  “Humph, I know of more than a few boys carryin’ scars he gave ’em,” Boudreaux said with a sour grimace. “I’d like nothin’ better than to personally escort him to Angola.”

  Lee nodded. The Louisiana State Penitentiary in Angola, Louisiana, was one of the toughest prisons in the South. It housed some of the meanest convicted felons in the state. Most were carrying sentences of twenty years or more. The percentage of those doing life was high as well.

  It was obvious Boudreaux did not like private detectives. That, and the sheriff’s personal interest in taking down Ty’Rance, gave Lee hope he could soon pull out of the whole sticky mess. Like most cops, Boudreaux wanted to handle crime in his territory without outsiders butting in.

  “What I can do is put together all the facts, throw in a couple of theories, and let you take it from there,” Lee said.

  “Of course, Lee’s built up a relationship with this Denny Kincaid,” John put in.

  “I’ve gotten about as much as they need. I’m sure a deputy can be placed inside the clinic and learn more.” Lee’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Mandeville.