Homemade Sin (37 page)

When Dee Dee emerged from the kitchen, Jones approached her again, “Look,” he said, “you can either talk to me now or we can talk down at the police station.”

“What do you want to know?” Dee Dee looked sideways at the rodeo rider who was swaying in his seat. His head was dipping low toward his plate.

“I know a little about voodoo, zombies and such,” Jones said. “I believe someone turned the folks in the pool into zombies. I also think the same someone turned Rebel Buford and Dutch Lewis into zombies and, since you were the last one to see either of those men alone, you're my primary suspect.”

Over Jones's shoulder Dee Dee saw Hussey stroll into the bar. “You have the wrong girl,” Dee Dee told Jones loudly. “But I think I know who did it. Excuse me a minute.”

Dee Dee slipped around Jones and stalked over to Hussey. She grabbed Hussey by the shoulder and brought her over to where Jones was standing. As Dee Dee spun Hussey to face Jones with her left hand, she slipped the vial of voodoo powder into Hussey's pocket with the right.

“This is the woman you want sheriff,” said Dee Dee, pushing Hussey toward the sheriff. “I saw her slip some strange powder in both of those men's drinks and I saw her slip the same stuff in the drinks she served those folks in the pool. If you don't believe me you can ask Cutter. He's in the kitchen. He saw her do it, too.”

Cutter was listening to the conversation through a crack in the kitchen door. “It was Hussey alright,” he said as he stepped out from the kitchen. “I saw her give that voodoo powder to Rebel and Dutch and turn them into zombies and she made money betting on them too. You can check her bank account. You'll see that she made a deposit right after the Daytona race.”

Hussey stared at him in shock. “What the hell are you talking about?” she screamed at Cutter.

“I told you it was wrong when you did it,” Cutter shook his head.

“I bet she has voodoo powder in her pocket right now,” Dee Dee said.

“Could I ask you to empty your pockets please,” Jones said to Hussey.

“These people are lying, Deputy. I don't know what's going on here but I didn't even know the boxer and as for the folks in the pool, I have no clue what happened to them.”

“What about Rebel Buford?” Jones said.

Hussey looked guilty and shuffled her feet.

“Your pockets please,” insisted Jones.

Hussey reached into her left apron pocket and retrieved the vial of voodoo powder. Both Jones and Hussey stared at the vial of powder.

“I don't know how that got there officer,” Hussey said.

“I've heard it all before. Hussey Paine,” Jones said, removing a pair of handcuffs from his belt and snapping them onto Hussey's wrist, “I'm arresting you for voodoo in the first degree.”

“What's going on?” Roland came around the bar and saw Hussey in handcuffs.

“She's being arrested for making zombies,” Jones said to Roland. “She had this on her.” Jones held out the vial of voodoo powder he had liberated from Hussey.

“That doesn't necessarily prove—”

“Roland, I can explain,” Hussey said.

“Explain at the station,” Jones said.

“Let me get my keys and I'll follow you to the station,” Roland told Jones. To Hussey he said, “Don't worry. I'll get you out of this.”

“No point in hurrying,” Jones said. “It'll take me a while to get her processed and booked, and the judge won't set bail until tomorrow. Your best bet is to stay here and see if you can find her a good lawyer.”

As Roland stood in the middle of the lounge feeling useless, Jones took Hussey by the arm and escorted her out to his cruiser.

When Jones had hauled Hussey away, Dee Dee sprinted over to the bull rider who was face down in his food, blowing little bubbles through his entrée. He was groaning and twitching.

“Help me get him upstairs,” Dee Dee ordered Cutter. Each took an arm and dragged Clint out of the bar.

“What now?” Roland said as they dragged Clint past the bar.

“Got another one not feeling well, must be the sushi,” Dee Dee said.

As they left the bar, Dee Dee turned to Cutter. “I wasn't sure you were going to back me up back there. I know how you feel about Hussey.”

“I guess it was like the old saying,” Cutter said, “you got two doors and you have to choose one. And you either get the lion or the tiger.”

“That's the lady or the tiger,” Dee Dee said.

“Yeah,” said Cutter, shaking his head, “I figure either way I was fucked.”

As the voodoo duo was helping Clint out the door, another man, carrying a duffle bag, entered the bar. He noticed the pretty girl and the young man on either side of Clint appeared to be holding him up. He strolled over to the bar and hopped up on a bar stool.

“Where are those two taking Clint?” he said to Roland, who was thumbing through the yellow pages, looking for a lawyer who specialized in voodoo.

“He wasn't feeling too good so they are helping him to his room,” Roland said. He moved his finger down the list of attorneys. “It tends to happen around here a lot.”

“How about a beer?” the man said to Roland.

“Sure.” Roland turned away from the yellow pages, grabbed a frosted mug from the bar fridge and filled it from the tap. As he placed the mug on the bar in front of the man, he said “I haven't seen you around here before. Tourist?”

“I'm with the rodeo,” said the man. “I'm a rodeo clown. I knew my friend Clint was coming here so I figured I'd stop by and surprise him.”

“He's in room 204,” Roland said. “The sushi chef and cook are helping him to his room. Have a beer while they settle him in, then you can go up and surprise him.”

“I just might do that.” A toxic grin spread across Cowpie's face as he headed for the door.

The storm had cleared, and steam was rising from the puddles as the brutal Florida sun had returned with a vengeance. The moist, tropical air was cloying. It glued Dee Dee and Cutter's clothes to their skin as they dragged the rodeo rider past the pool. Dee Dee glanced at the floaters then widened her gaze to the area around the pool and her mouth dropped open.

The old folks were standing in the pool, staring at the gulf as usual, but now there were about a couple of dozen soaked pussies sitting around the pool staring at Stinky who sat on a pool chair licking his paws and smiling. Dee Dee met Stinky's glowing green eyes as he turned toward her. They exchanged the knowing looks of fellow travelers.

“I have my minions now too,” purred Stinky, “I used your magic powder to create my own legion of zombies and soon my army will grow strong and multitudes of cats will take over this puny planet. I will be a god again.”

“Let's take Clint over to that deck chair,” Dee Dee instructed Cutter as she and Cutter dragged the rodeo rider across the pool deck and dropped him into a chair. “I have to get these folks out of the pool. The rain has made them more pruney than usual.”

“It's time to go in,” Dee Dee said to the floaters. “I guess you folks missed the early bird. Go and eat something and then go to your rooms. You can come back to the pool later.”

The pool zombies crawled out of the water, leaving their floating noodles adrift and trudged en mass toward the parking lot.

“Hey,” Dee Dee shouted. “Go to your rooms and change first!”

The pod of geriatric, living dead turned as one and headed toward their rooms.

Damn, thought Dee Dee, care and feeding of zombies might be tougher than I thought. Aloud she said to Cutter, “Let's get this guy to his room.”

“Oh shit,” Dee Dee said when Clint was splayed on to the bed, “I planted the vial of zombie powder on Hussey. We don't have any more zombie powder. You go and get the master key from the front desk, then go to Hussey's room and see if she's got some more in her doctor's bag.”

“What if she catches me?”

“She's in jail, remember,” Dee De said.

Cutter looked past the registration desk into the bar to make sure Roland was busy making drinks. Making sure Roland was distracted, talking to a man at the bar, he snatched up the master key from the front desk and headed for Hussey's room. He let himself in and found her doctor's valise in the closet. Opening the bag, he began examining vials of powders and liquids until he found a purple vial that looked like the same voodoo powder he had stolen before. Stuffing the vial into his pocket he ran back to Clint's room.

“Are you sure this is the right stuff?” Dee Dee held the vial up to the light.

“Yeah,” Cutter said, “it's the same color; it's the same stuff.”

“All right,” Dee Dee said, “I guess it's the same stuff. Mix a little in water and hand it over.”

Cutter retrieved a paper-capped glass from the dresser, filled it about half full from the tap, and sprinkled some of the powder into the glass. The powder turned the water milky lavender. He passed the glass to Dee Dee, who examined it.

“The other stuff turned the water a darker purple. Are you sure you put enough in?” she said

“Same amount as before.”

Dee Dee shrugged and poured the lavender liquid down Clint's throat. They both stood back to watch.

“It's not doing anything,” Cutter said.

“Give it time, maybe it isn't as strong as the first batch.”

Clint sat up abruptly and looked around the room. “How did I get here?” he said

“Are you all right?” Dee Dee cut her eyes to Cutter. They exchanged a look that said ‘What's happening here? He's not supposed to be conscious.'”

“Right as rain in west Texas,” Clint said. “My lips are still a little numb from eating that weird fish, but otherwise I'm good to go.”

“Uh, well, you weren't feeling very well in the bar. Why don't you rest here a while,” Dee Dee said. “I'll be back to check on you.” She took Cutter by the arm and led him from the room.

When they were in the hall Dee Dee snatched the powder from Cutter's hand. “You must have taken the wrong stuff,” she said, examining the vial of powder closely.

“It looked the same as the other stuff,” Cutter said.

Dee Dee pointed to a tiny label on the bottom of the vial, about the size of a fingernail. “Then why does it say ‘Loup Garu' on the label?”

“Uh … I didn't see that.”

Dee Dee stuffed the vial into her pocket. “That's because you are a freaking moron. We'll come back and check on him in a few minutes. In the meantime go back to Hussey's room and get the right powder. It should say zombie or Mambo or something like that on it.”

“I think we caught the woman who has been turning people into zombies,” Jones told the sheriff.

“Zombies?” the sheriff said. “I don't believe in that nonsense. Someone slipped some drugs into Rebel Buford and Dutch Lewis's food or drink, simple case of poisoning.”

“Somebody gave them zombie powder,” Jones said. “And I think there are pool zombies over at the Santeria hotel too.”