by Emery, Lynn
“Yeah. Tell him the ugly facts of life if he doesn’t cooperate,” Tullier added.
“Denny won’t be a hard sell if we do it right,” Lee said. He looked at Tullier and then at the sheriff.
“How do you know he won’t say, ‘Blow it out your ass!’?” Sheriff Boudreaux’s thick eyebrows bunched together into a line. “We’ve got nothing on him. Denny hasn’t come out and admitted anything except that he owes this guy.”
“Yeah. He hasn’t said he pilfered drugs from the clinic. Or that he’s stolen for Ty’Rance,” Tullier said.
Lee had to admit they made a good point. Whatever his faults, Denny was smart. He’d consider his options with lightning speed. Young men like Denny had a cunning sense of survival.
‘True. He could run back to California and pay his debt from a safe distance,” Lee said. “That way he could get off the hook and not have to inform.”
“And we wouldn’t have a damn thing on Ty’Rance.” Sheriff Boudreaux grimaced. “We’d be the last ones to know he’s got his gang fully organized.”
“Yeah, right about the time we start cleaning up dead bodies from drive-bys,” Tullier said with a deep frown.
“Unless…” Lee said thoughtfully.
Sheriff Boudreaux stopped rocking the chair and sat forward. “I’d be tickled pink to hear any good ideas. Especially if it means Ty’Rance will spend a long time in prison.”
Lee took a deep breath. What he would suggest was a risk and would seem cruel to most. But he’d gotten to know Denny quite well. His hostility toward any kind of authority and the police in particular might lead him to bolt. He might even tell Ty’Rance. It would likely be an anonymous call given his fear of the man. But Denny’s fear was the key.
“It’s done all the time,” Lee said with shrug. “We tell Denny that we’ll let Ty’Rance think he talked anyway.” “A dangerous bluff.” Tullier shook his head slowly. “Denny could get scared and run to Ty’Rance to convince him it’s a lie.”
“He’d end up floating in the swamp,” Sheriff Boudreaux said bluntly.
“Denny’s not that stupid. He knows Ty’Rance would kill him in a second.” Lee felt sure that he was right. Still, there was also a chance they were right. Lee counted on his instinct about Denny and human nature. “You know him, huh?” Tullier rubbed his chin.
Lee sat down in a faded green vinyl chair. “Look, I know it seems cold. But Denny won’t last long running with Ty’Rance. He’s not vicious enough.”
“So you want to save him from himself.” Sheriff Boudreaux looked at Lee with a half smile. “Now you’re a social worker instead of a private detective.” “I’m sick of watching young black men self-destruct, yeah. Call it whatever you want,” Lee said with heat. He did not add that guilt weighed in heavily, too. Guilt that stretched back to his own brother.
“You’re not the only one,” the sheriff replied, his smile gone.
“Amen,” Tullier added in a sober tone.
“Then let’s do this thing,” Lee said, and stood. “I’ll bring him in. I can think of a story.”
The sheriff glanced at Tullier. The chief deputy nodded. “No, I’ve got a better idea.”
They spent the next hour planning where they would meet and how to proceed. After much wrangling, Sheriff Boudreaux decided to ask a plainclothes state police trooper to handle it. An unmarked car would stop Denny on his way home from work. The trooper would take him to a state police substation where they would be waiting.
“When?” Tullier asked.
“Soon as possible. This week?” Lee glanced at the sheriff.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Sheriff Boudreaux said.
“Call me at this pager number when it’s set up.” Lee handed him one of his business cards.
“Got it.” The sheriff gave a sharp nod.
Lee said his goodbyes and left. The drive to Harahan was long, but not because of the miles. He was sure his reasoning was sound. In more than one instance Lee had correctly predicted Denny’s behavior. Andrea was right that they’d become quite close. Anger boiled up again.
His instincts had failed him where she was concerned. Every time he looked into those big brown eyes that mirrored caring and sincerity, his suspicion evaporated. It was hard for him to be coldly objective when he was near her all day every day. She was so warm and … No, he had to fall back on his training as a cop and his experience with the nasty side of human nature. He had to put aside emotion so he could see the entire situation clearly.
She probably owed her daddy a great deal, starting with a nice paycheck and cushy job. Then Lee shook his head at that conclusion. It didn’t add up. He’d seen Andrea do things for patients she didn’t have to. But what was it she’d said? Something about working around the politics. Maybe she’d compromised her ideals and made a deal with the devil. Maybe she thought it was the only way. Lee had faced hard choices in his life. It wasn’t fair of him to make assumptions. He understood what she was up against. He hoped she would understand him in turn. Yet he also knew that with those kinds of deals, the devil usually won.
Lee turned his car around and headed back toward Bayou Blue. He picked up the slim cell phone and punched the number pads. “Mr. Mandeville please. Lee Matthews.” Several seconds passed before Mandeville picked up. “Hello. We need to meet today. One hour is fine.”
***
Andrea wasn’t in the mood to work late today. She drove to a small home-furnishings store to get a few things for her apartment.
“Charlene always says shopping is the best medicine,” Andrea said out loud. “Let’s see if she’s right.”
Her mind was on Jamal Turner. The man pulled more surprises from his sleeve than a magician. Once again she wondered at the change in his demeanor lately. He had something on his mind, some problem that he would not share. Andrea suspected that it involved her. If not for the passion in his eyes when he looked at her, she might think he was about to leave. The thought of living without him filled her with dread. He constantly seemed to pull away, then come back to her, as if he were trying to work up the nerve to break things off completely. Andrea tried to imagine never making love to him again. She certainly could live without him. Yet she knew that it would take a long time for the aching hunger for him to go away.
A billboard caught her eye as she sat at a traffic light. It read GULFCO—WORKING FOR A BETTER FUTURE IN LAFOURCHE PARISH. The Mandeville family’s corporate empire. Its main office was here. She tapped her fingers on the wheel and drove on when the light turned green.
In the store, Andrea browsed through a selection of framed prints and decorations, but her mind was elsewhere.
“Do you have a phone book?” she asked the salesclerk.
“Sure. What are you looking for?” The short blonde wore a smile that said she wanted to help.
“Gulfco.” Andrea walked to the glass display case that doubled as a checkout station.
The clerk put the book on the counter. “I can give you directions if you want. Houma is so small you’d have to try real hard to get lost.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Andrea wrote on a notepad in her day planner as the woman talked. Minutes later Andrea drove toward Gulfco. She told herself it was just to get a look at the place. For some reason, she wanted to see where Mandeville did business. The clerk had been right. In ten minutes she was in front of the six-story gray brick building. Andrea parked in one of the two parking lots.
“Now what?” she asked herself.
Andrea knew the answer immediately. She would go inside. It was unlikely that John Mandeville would appear in the lobby. He probably had a private entrance like the typical corporate CEO. Still, she was nervous as she got out of the car. She took her time walking toward the entrance, ready to duck if she even thought she saw him. When she got to the double glass doors, Andrea took a deep breath and opened the door. The lobby was quiet, with one security guard on duty. It was decorated in soft blue, gray, and beige, with tall plants
in huge pots arranged around it. There was a snack shop with several small tables and chairs. Andrea stared at the building directory. Gulfco occupied most of the offices. There were two law firms, an insurance company, and a doctor’s office in other suites.
“Need some help, ma’am?” the tall, husky guard called out.
“No, thank you,” Andrea said. “I found what I was looking for.”
The man smiled and nodded. He continued to scan the parking lot. The smell of hot bread made her stomach rumble. She’d only had a small salad of wilted lettuce for lunch. Andrea followed the aroma to the counter.
An older black woman in a white apron appeared from behind a rack of potato chips. “Whatcha need, boo?”
“Just looking.” Andrea stared at the list of menu selections on a wall behind the counter.
‘Take your time, bay,” the woman said in a Creole accent. ‘Tell you what, got some real good fried shrimp po’boys.”
“Sounds tasty.” Andrea’s mouth watered at the prospect. “But I try not to eat too much fattening stuff.”
The woman gave Andrea a head-to-toe glance. “Pooh on that, bay. You got a good figure. One little po’boy ain’t gone hurt.”
Andrea pursed her lips. “Let me think about it some more.”
“I’ll be here,” the woman called out with good humor. She smiled as though confident of another po’boy sale soon.
Andrea started to walk away from temptation when she stopped short. “What the—”
She watched Jamal enter the lobby. He smiled at the guard as though they knew each other.
“Hey, there. On your way to see the big man, huh?” the guard said.
Jamal strolled over to where he stood. “Yep. How’ve you been, Bert?”
“Real good for an old man.”
“C’mon. You’re still young and full of spark,” Jamal said.
“Humph, being a cop for twenty years ages a man.” Andrea’s mind raced. She stood inside the snack shop close enough to catch odd snatches of their conversation. The two men continued to exchange small talk, most of which she couldn’t hear. Jamal was here to see the “big man.” John Mandeville was a big man around here. But that made no sense. She could not imagine why Jamal would go to see him.
“I got here early, but I better get going,” Jamal joked. “Yeah, don’t want to keep John the Great waiting,” Bert laughed. “See ya later.”
“See ya later, man. Take it easy.”
Andrea peeked around the comer of wall that hid her from view. She jumped back when Jamal walked past. Her heart beat triple time. Any second she expected him to turn and confront her.
“You all right, bay?” the counter woman asked with a frown.
Andrea was afraid Jamal would hear her if she spoke. She nodded and plastered a smile on her face. The woman shrugged and went back to sweeping the floor. Andrea risked looking out again in time to see him disappear into the elevator. She waited a few seconds, and then went to the guard. He stood behind a high desk and made notations in a journal.
“Excuse me,” she said.
The guard looked at her and smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I have an interview with someone in Gulfco. She said that I should go to their executive suite. Is that Mr. Mandeville’s office?”
“Sure is, on the sixth floor. In fact, they own the building. Just lease the other office space.”
“Oh, I see.” Andrea stared at the directory again.
“Well, good luck. I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Bert grinned at her, then went back to his task.
“Thanks.”
Andrea walked to the elevator. She pressed the button and waited, her mind blank. A group of chattering people got off and she boarded the elevator. The ride up seemed to take forever, but when the elevator stopped, she was afraid. She stood still, unsure if she had the nerve to get off.
“This is it, ma’am. You did punch the button for the sixth floor,” a man said. He tapped a leather portfolio against one leg, obviously impatient to go home.
Andrea blinked out of her daze. “Sorry.”
She stepped out. The walls were of oak panel, stained to make it look dark and rich. Thick ocean blue carpet cushioned her steps. She went past a series of doors. Smartly dressed men and women moved at a brisk pace. There was a large reception area with two sofas upholstered in dark blue and gold fabric. In the center a petite brunette sat at a desk. She was on the phone, so Andrea waited until she hung up.
“May I help you?”
“I’m looking for Mr. Mandeville,” Andrea blurted out.
“He’s expecting you?”
“Yes.” Andrea pressed her lips together. Another lie in less than fifteen minutes. She froze, afraid the woman would check with someone.
“Go right down that hall, take a right, and his secretary will help you.”
“Thanks,” Andrea stammered.
She walked in the direction the woman had pointed. It was a short distance, yet in seconds Andrea talked herself into leaving at least three times. Suddenly she turned the comer and saw Jamal. His back was to her as he talked to the secretary. Andrea stood rooted to the floor. Now what? The decision was taken out of her hands when the secretary looked at her.
“Yes, ma’am?”
In the same instant Mandeville swung open one of the wide double doors. “Come on in, Lee.” His mouth fell open. “Andrea?”
Jamal spun around, eyes wide with dismay and shock. “Damn!”
She stared at Jamal, and then looked at her father. “What is going on here?”
***
“So, you say he’s cool.” Ty’Rance gathered a handful of peanuts from a can. “You know the guy well enough to stick up for him?”
Denny licked his dry lips before answering. He glanced around at the three men. Ty’Rance had called a meeting at the apartment he sometimes shared with one of his girlfriends. They all stared at him with dull eyes. Bo leaned against the wall in Ty’Rance’s shabby living room. Another sat in an old ladder-back wooden chair. The third stood behind the leather recliner where Ty’Rance sat. The bass from the music in the next room made the walls vibrate.
‘Tell her to turn that crap off or I’ll throw her and the damn CD player out,” Ty’Rance barked.
The man standing behind him turned and stomped out without speaking. Seconds later the music stopped. He came back and took his position again.
“Sure, Ty. I wouldn’t have brought him to you if I didn’t trust him,” Denny said.
“Yeah, but you’re dumb as dirt.” Bo sneered at him. “How you know he ain’t a cop?”
“Look, I been talking to the guy for months. He’s South Central all the way.” Denny made a chopping motion with his left hand. “I know my people.”
“Humph!” was the husky man’s only reply. He shifted position, but continued to lean against the wall.
“Now, now. Don’t insult my little partner.” Ty’Rance threw a few nuts in his mouth. He chewed slowly as he gazed at Denny.
“Guy looked okay to me when we met that time. Don’t seem like no cop,” the second man in the wooden chair said.
“That don’t mean nothin’. You ain’t no smarter than him,” Bo retorted.
“Oh yeah?” The man started to get up from the chair. He froze at a look from Ty’Rance.
“Sit down, fool.” Ty’Rance scowled at Bo. “And, you, shut up.”
Denny rubbed his hands together. His eyes darted around at the hard faces, all frowning except the man standing behind Ty’Rance. He smiled grimly at the scene, but said nothing.
“Uh, if y’all wanna forget the whole thing, it’s okay with me. I mean …” Denny’s voice faded to a croak when Ty’Rance turned to him.
“It ain’t okay with me, though.” Ty’Rance stood and walked to him. “This is what we gone do. You get the goods and I’ll tell you where to take them. Anything go down, it’s on you.” He poked Denny’s chest with a thick forefinger.
“Wha-at you mean?” Denny blinked
rapidly at him.
“You know damn well what I mean. If the cops show up, you better not talk.” Ty’Rance’s voice was matter-of-fact.
Denny nodded without speaking. Sweat rolled down the side of his face. Ty’Rance turned his back on him and talked to the other three men. Denny sank down on the sofa and listened. He twisted his hands together nervously. The men nodded while Ty’Rance did most of the talking.
“What you doin’ way over there, li’l partner?” Ty’Rance barked over his shoulder. “Come over here.”
“Yeah, sure,” Denny stammered. He wiped his forehead with one hand and joined them.
Ty’Rance draped his beefy arm around Denny’s neck. “I think we gonna do all right. What you think?”
Denny’s lips pulled back in a strained smile. “Right, right. We’ll make lots of money.” He winced when Ty’Rance’s huge arm closed tighter around his neck.
“I’m counting on it,” Ty’Rance said.
Chapter 18
Andrea stared at him. “LeRoyce Matthews.”
“Lee,” he replied.
“What?”
“I’m called Lee. A nickname, sort of.” He felt unnerved by the cold look in her eyes.
“Who are you really?” Andrea asked the question softly.
He knew what she wanted to know about him went beyond a simple identifier. Andrea’s question sought to delve deeper to the real man beneath the name. Lee inhaled and let out air slowly. Right now, in front of Mandeville, he could only offer facts.
“I’m a private investigator out of New Orleans. L & V Investigations, Inc. Mr. Mandeville hired me on behalf of the board of directors.” Lee spoke quietly, in the same voice he’d use to break bad news to the families of crime victims.
‘To investigate me?” Andrea stood, her body stiff.
“No, of course not,” Mandeville broke in. “We suspected serious wrongdoing, maybe even criminal activity connected to the clinic. We made the decision to hire an investigator before you were hired.”
“You planted a private investigator in my clinic without telling me. I’d say you didn’t trust me either.” Andrea spoke to Mandeville but still looked at Lee.
