Gator Aide (27 page)

“If you get the answer for six down, you’ll be able to solve four and eight across. It’ll also give you a big clue for twelve down.”

It was enough to get the sergeant’s attention. It also came close to getting me blown out of the room as his macho pride shifted into overdrive.

“No shit, darlin’. What are you—the puzzle queen?”

Backtracking, I made the usual female genuflections, hoping to work my way into his good graces. “No. It’s just that I’ve seen this puzzle before. Not that I was able to figure it out myself. But I did see the answers for it.”

His teeth chewed up along the body of the pencil until he reached the blackened stub of the eraser. Biting it off, he rolled the eraser around on his tongue before spitting it out. “So, you got a good memory, huh?”

I moved behind him to get a better view. White horizontal lines marked the back of his neck like a road map where folds of fat overlapped, untouched by the sun.

“Only because I worked so long on this puzzle, and just couldn’t get any of it right.”

“But you remember some of the answers?”

“I remember six down.”

“Give it to me.”

I gave him the word, and then another and another, until he finally came up with one of his own. He grinned and stretched as twelve down was filled in. Kicking out the chair across from him, he motioned for me to sit down.

“So, what’s your interest in the lady back there?”

“I’m working on the case involving the alligator found at Vaughn’s apartment. I haven’t had a break on it yet, and my boss is on my back. If I could at least speak to Mrs. Williams, I’d be able to report back to him on it. It might help to get me off the hook for a while.”

The sergeant picked at a pimple on his forehead. “That wouldn’t be Charlie Hickok you have to report to now, would it?”

“The one and only. He’s been making my life a living hell.”

The sergeant’s stomach rumbled, and I pulled out a Milky Way bar from my bag, laying it on the desk. He stared at it for a moment before picking it up. “That’s some lousy bribe.”

“I know. But it’s all I’ve got. Unless you’d like a few more clues on that crossword puzzle.”

Ripping open the wrapper, he took a bite as he tipped back his chair and glanced around. “Hickok, huh? There was a time I thought being a wildlife agent would be a pretty sweet deal. Then I met that man. Decided to become a cop, instead. I feel for ya on that one, darlin’.”

Finishing off the candy bar, the sergeant got up from his chair and walked across the room, filling the doorway as he stretched, glancing up and down the hall. Sauntering back to the table, he put his full concentration on the crossword puzzle in front of him. He spoke without looking up. “It’s lunch hour, so you’re safe. But five minutes. That’s all I can give ya.”

I was willing to take anything I could get. Thanking him, I made my way down the corridor to where Dolores sat in a cell all alone. She looked like hell. I couldn’t be sure whether it was from drying out or mourning for Fifi, but she looked as if she had aged ten years overnight. The fine network of wrinkles around her eyes formed heavy pouches like so much extra baggage. Her mascara ran in black muddy rivulets, settling in polluted reservoirs on either side of her nose. Her girlish flip was gone, replaced by coarse, peroxided hair that had been pulled back sharply from her face. Looking old and haggard, she quietly sobbed as she twisted the shreds of what had been a tissue in her hands. No more the former glamour girl working hard to retain her youth, she was a shriveled old woman behind bars. She cried out upon seeing me, her mouth working back and forth like a mute trying to speak. Grabbing the bars in front of her, she shoved Fifi’s collar toward me.

“They murdered my Fifi!”

I held on to her hand. “What happened this morning, Dolores?”

“They poisoned her and left her to die a horrible death.” More tears filled her eyes as her nose began to run. Wadding shreds of the tissue together, she blew her nose hard, using up all the slivers she had pieced into a round ball. I searched through my purse and handed her a pile of blue tissues that must have been stashed at the bottom of my bag for years. Her hands shook as she ripped the tissues one by one into thin strips.

“You wouldn’t have anything to drink in there, would you? I’d feel a lot better if I had a drink.”

It was impossible not to feel sorry for her, and angry at whoever had brought this about. “We’ll find who did this to Fifi. I promise. But you have to tell me why you went to Valerie Vaughn’s apartment this morning and broke in.”

Dolores’s bark of a laugh burst out, and for a moment she was her old self again. “Is that what they’re saying? I wonder which of the bastards cooked that one up.”

“You didn’t break in?”

“Hell, no. I had a call from someone telling me to show up right away if I wanted to get my jewelry back. So I went. When I got there, the door was already open. There was a crowbar on the floor, and the place looked as though a hurricane had hit it. I didn’t even have a chance to rummage through anything before these idiots showed up and arrested me.”

“Who was it that called you in the first place?”

“How the hell should I know?” Dolores’s eyes welled up with tears again. “It doesn’t matter anyway, now that my baby’s dead. Christ, I need a drink.”

She’d been set up, pure and simple. “Do you have a lawyer?”

The tissues I’d given her lay in shreds, a storm of tiny blue raindrops at her feet. “Hillard’s getting me one.”

Somehow, I didn’t find that very consoling. No one in their right mind could suspect this fragile old woman of having spent hours neatly slicing up Valerie Vaughn. She couldn’t even massacre a tissue efficiently.

“I’m sure Captain Kroll will have you out of here and home in no time at all. Has he stopped by to see you yet?”

Dolores stared transfixed in wide-eyed fright, like an animal caught in a set of bright headlights. “I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re talking about.” She began to cry once more, hiccuping on her sobs.

If their motive had been to scare her into silence, it had worked. “Dolores, did you ever own a diamond necklace at one time?” Looking at me blankly, she continued to hiccup. “With a large pear-shaped diamond pendant?”

Dots of red appeared in the middle of her cheeks. “Are you telling me Hillard bought that slut a diamond necklace when he wouldn’t buy one for his own wife? I’ll kill him when I get out of here!”

I had my answer. Whatever else Dolores knew, she wasn’t about to reveal any more right now. Between Fifi’s death and her incarceration, she had been sufficiently muzzled for the moment. But I had also learned that Kroll frightened even the likes of Dolores, who stood up to both Vinnie and Gunter on a regular basis. Assuring her that she’d probably be home by the end of the day, I promised to check in with her as soon as I could.

I walked out of the building into the thick, blistering air of midafternoon. Passing images shimmered in sultry heat waves in the street where a swanky black BMW sedan sat waiting, its engine purring quietly. Opening the door to slip in behind the wheel was the tall, slim figure of Gunter Schuess. With little to lose at this point, I ambled over as the car door closed and knocked on the glass.

Gunter’s head turned slowly in my direction. He stared out through green-tinted sunglasses that lay streamlined against his face. Showing no sign of recognition, he looked away, his hand curling around the gearshift. I rapped harder this time and motioned for him to roll down the window. Taking his sunglasses off, he gazed at me as the glass magically lowered and a blast of cold air rushed out. I rested my elbows on the window jamb, enjoying the coolness as the hot air of the street flowed into his car.

“Hello, Gunter. Out campaigning for Hillard with our local police?”

He smiled slightly. “Agent Porter, I didn’t recognize you at first. You do turn up in the strangest places.”

“When I heard the news broadcast that Mrs. Williams had been arrested, I rushed right over.”

Gunter’s fingers tightened visibly around the steering wheel as his eyes widened in alarm.

“Relax, Gunter. It was just a bad joke. There wasn’t any broadcast.”

He allowed the sliver of a smile to return to his lips.

“An interesting sense of humor you have, Agent Porter. But, as I’m sure you must realize, this is all an unfortunate mistake. It is being taken care of even as we speak. So you see, I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time. Mrs. Williams has requested there be no visitors. Besides, I thought your jurisdiction was wildlife. Aren’t you a bit out of your element?”

“I’m still investigating the death of that alligator we found in Vaughn’s apartment. Anything that happens there affects my work. Speaking of work, I have a tip for you on a company with foreign interests that just might be willing to invest some of its business in New Orleans.”

Gunter’s mouth twitched in amusement as he reached over and turned up the air-conditioning a notch. “Really, Agent Porter. You surprise me. Who would ever guess you have such a wide range of interests? So tell me. What company might this be?”

“It’s called Global Corporation. Ever hear of it?” I watched for a reaction, but Gunter didn’t flinch.

“No. I haven’t.”

His eyes never left my face as the car window magically began to close, remaining open only a crack. Then, almost imperceptibly, they flickered to the right for the briefest moment. I turned to see what had caught his attention. Connie Kroll was hurrying out of the precinct and heading toward the car. Bounding down the steps, Kroll suddenly caught sight of me and stopped dead. Pretending to search his pockets, he quickly turned and veered off in another direction. I followed the figure as it scurried across the street.

“Isn’t that the captain over there?”

Gunter’s eyes remained straight ahead as Kroll ducked into a nearby coffee shop. “I wouldn’t know.”

He shut the remaining inch of window, cutting off any further conversation. Shifting into gear, the BMW rolled out into traffic and disappeared into the afternoon crush of vehicles filling the downtown street.

Exhausted from the heat, I went home and lay down on my bed to take a short rest before picking up Terri. The wooden blades of the overhead fan clacked out a soft lullaby, and the air blew gently across my face. A whiff of salt water hung on the breeze as though the sea were outside my window, instead of the scent of mimosa and magnolias from the garden below. I knew I was dreaming as the sound of the fan turned into the putt-putt engine of a small boat guiding me through the swamp. Twilight hung heavy, and bands of phosphorescent insects flickered like Japanese lanterns flying through dead cypress trees. My hand brushed against cool, velvety green lichen and wisps of Spanish moss caressed my face. A bullfrog balancing on a lily pad added its deep bass to a choir of cicadas that had burst into song. Twilight faded into night. A lone white egret slowly flew off, its long legs trailing behind like slivers of silver ribbon. I found myself carried down a finger of still, black water as all sound began to fade. Only the beat of my heart grew louder, turning into the roar of thunder that shook sleeping birds from their nests in the trees. Long fingers of lightning cracked open the sky like a broken egg, and tiny birds rained down on my head. A final peal cleared the storm away. No longer in the boat, I found myself standing on a small spit of land. I waited, alone and entombed in the dark. A small beam of light drew near, like a firefly that had lost its way. Shimmering in a kaleidoscope of color, Valerie Vaughn was revealed in all her sliced glory, her hundreds of gashes a bright carnival of lights. Gliding toward me, her eyes locked onto mine, and each light turned into a brilliant diamond. She reached out, but was suddenly drawn down into a quicksand of swamp. Soon, only her hair lay splayed on the surface, around it a bloody halo of water. I stood perfectly still, my heart reverberating among the cypress and moss, its sound echoed up by cicada and bullfrogs, fireflies flashing on and off to its beat. I closed my eyes, the rhythm of my heart roaring through my body as I felt Valerie Vaughn clamp her hand around my ankle with the strength of a heavy chain. Wrapping herself around me, her body lifted out of the water and she whispered in my ear, drawing me close, until I was pulled off that small spit of land. Cold swamp water covered my legs, my waist, swirling up over my chest and rushing into my lungs as I clawed to reach the surface. But Valerie held me down, draping herself on top of me so that I sank beneath a weight of diamonds, as a muffled laugh roared in my ear.

Bolting up in bed, I screamed as my heart beat fiercely against my chest, my breath burning in my lungs. The pungent aroma of the swamp lingered on the air, and a low clap of thunder pealed off in the distance. Purple clouds of twilight gathered outside the French doors of my bedroom as I rubbed my eyes, trying to brush away the remaining nightmare. But Valerie’s face stayed seared in my mind as I continued to feel the weight of her hand.

I peered into the hospital
room to see Terri sitting up in bed. His head, which had been shaved, was now carefully wrapped in a stylish turban of bandages. But the face below looked as if it had been reassembled by a team of auto-body mechanics after a weekend of hard partying. His nose was flattened and veered off to the right, while a collage of colors formed a work of modern art on every inch of available skin. His room was filled to bursting with bouquets of flowers in oversize vases which competed for space. Yellow and pink roses vied with the cloying scent of narcissus, orchids, and magnolia blossoms, to overcome the generic odor of antiseptic out in the hall.

Terri’s roommate was an elderly man from Jefferson Parish who was appalled at having to share his room with a drag queen. Terri paid the old man little mind, plying his family with boxes of pralines along with complimentary tickets to his club act, which they promised to attend. A mane of ostrich feathers gently framed Terri’s face, to which a layer of makeup had been artfully applied to hide the swelling as best it could. His body was swathed in a pink chiffon robe the color of cotton candy. Slippers topped with pompoms of fake pink fur peeked from beneath his bed like two well-trained French poodles, while an assortment of fashion magazines lay precariously stacked on a table. A pornographic array of get-well cards was tacked to the wall behind his bed, and a collection of vitamins and herbs cluttered his nightstand, forcing the phone onto the floor, where it rang madly. Busy pushing away the thermometer that Dr. Kushner was attempting to put in his mouth, Terri barely seemed to notice the ringing.