A Crying Shame (6 page)

Wacker Jolsen's in jail again.” Joe plunged ahead, totally ignoring Mike's sighing.
One fight; nobody wanted to press charges. We rolled on all the calls 'cept one. A call came in at nine-forty-one. From the Breaux house. Something prowlin' around outside, she said. The dispatcher said she got uppity with her.”

Who got upset with whom?”

No, sir. Not upset. Uppity, that's all. That Breaux woman, as you well know, Sheriff, is New Orleans society.” He said it as if it were something to be avoided with the same precaution one might take entering a syphilis ward.
Never has liked us around here. Makes that plain as the nose on your face. She thinks that—”

Mike waved him silent before Joe really could get wound up on the subject of the Breaux family and start preaching—which he loved to do. Often.
I know all about it, Joe. You've told me often enough. I have your feelings about Linda Breaux branded in my brain. I hear them in my sleep. Why didn't a deputy respond to her call?”

Dispatch says she couldn't raise nobody. Said she tried several times. When the Breaux woman didn't call back, Alma figured whatever it was out there had gone away.”

Alma knows better than that shit!”

Joe said nothing about the sheriff's profanity. But he did raise an eyebrow and silently make a mental note to pray for the soul of Mike Saucier at the Wednesday-night prayer meeting at the Smith Bayou Baptist Church. Joe really was a good man. Just slightly fanatical. He said,
I think Alma canned the report. How many times we rolled out there, Sheriff? Twenty? Thirty?”

At least. But that's our job. And let us not forget, there is much bad blood between Alma and Miss Breaux.”

Ms.”

Mike looked at Joe.
Why are you hissing at me?”

I ain't hissin'. It's Ms. She's a Ms. M—S—period. She ain't neither a Miss nor a Mrs. nor a Madammie. That Breaux woman is a Ms.”