Gator Aide (39 page)

“Congratulations, Rach. How shall we spend that new raise you’ll be getting?”

Hickok had bumped me up two levels on the pay scale, befitting the newly acquired status he’d bestowed upon me.

“Well, I could use a couple of new pillows. My old ones have gone to shreds.”

Terri squeezed my foot as Rocky jumped down and headed into the kitchen in search of a handout.

“I think you deserve more than that. Let’s treat ourselves to a makeover. Maybe a few nips and tucks.”

Though the bust had been made, the case was far from over. Now came the frustrating part—dealing with the morass of the court system. With both Schuess and Budwell dead, we’d discovered there was little evidence to tie either Kroll or Williams into the plot. The drug link in the bayou was gone—but only for the moment. There was talk of an investigation into Kroll’s activities, but, as with most interrogations, it would be a long, drawn-out affair. More than likely, most of the evidence would be destroyed before it was ever brought to light. As for Hillard, rumors were circulating through New Orleans about his connection to the trade, but without proof, the effect had been only a minor drop in his polls. However, he did have one less supporter: Hillard showed up alone at the last rally, a few days ago, Dolores having left town to visit an “ailing relative.”

“It makes me crazy to think of Hillard Williams slithering around like the Teflon King. Even worse, he’ll probably end up as our new mayor.” Terri wrapped a finger around a blond curl on his new wig. “The bastard’s going to get away scot-free.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that, Ter. I have a funny feeling Hillard will get what he deserves.”

I’d been out to Treddell’s yesterday, and watched as he fed a large gator that he’d grown particularly fond of. When I asked if he planned to skin it, Trenton had given me a funny look.

“No, I have a much better plan for this ol’ boy. He’s got a special job to do. Then, as his reward, I’m gonna let him go free.”

I hadn’t asked any further. I didn’t need to. Trenton would mete out his own form of bayou justice. Besides, there was still that tape, showing how Hillard and Kroll spent their leisure time. A copy of it was already sitting at the local TV station, waiting to hit the evening news.

“What about the bayou mama who was tied in with Valerie?” Terri asked. “You know, her partner in crime? I suppose Williams stays free, while she gets hauled off to jail.”

I watched Terri wipe a lipstick stain off the rim of his glass. His bruises had begun to disappear, and though his nose would have to be fixed, he still looked more glamorous than I ever would.

“I never told anyone about that, Ter. You’re the only one who knows.”

Terri opened his blue eyes wide in surprise. “I thought you couldn’t stand the woman.”

I shrugged. “I changed my mind.”

Though Trenton hadn’t known about her activities, Dolly had been handing out some bayou justice of her own. Not only had Hillard literally been paying for his crime, but an invisible ax had been held over his head, threatening to cut off his career at any time.

“Hey! Get outta my jambalaya! Damn cat.” A voice roared out of the kitchen as Rocky came flying over the sofa to land in my lap.

Terri looked at me and winked. “What do you plan to do about the main course in there?”

I could see Santou cooking up a storm in Terri’s kitchen. He seemed to sense the attention. Turning around, he grinned and walked out, holding a spoon in his hand. Leaning over, he brought the spoon to my mouth.

“Taste this,
chère
. Good?”

I nodded. “It’s great.”

Santou kissed the top of my head and motioned to Terri. “Set the table and we’ll eat.”

Curling my legs under me, I waited until Jake had disappeared back into the kitchen. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. Maybe too much has happened. Especially that business with Valerie.”

Terri moved closer and put his arm around me. “Now, listen to Mama. People get bruised. It happens with age, Rach, and there’s nothing you can do about it. So he’s got his battle scars. God knows, you have yours. You think he’s more damaged goods than white knight? Well, sweetie, we’re all damaged people in our own way. But take a good look. He’s here, and he cares.

“Now you’ve got a choice. You can stay alone, holed up in your safe little tower. Or you can take a chance. It’s worth it, Rach. Think about it.”

Terri began to set the table, and I put Rocky down and headed over to take my place.

JESSICA SPEART is the author of ten Rachel Porter mysteries, as well as the nonfiction thriller
Winged Obsession
. Speart created her mystery sleuth — U.S. Fish and Wildlife Agent Rachel Porter — after years of investigating wildlife and drug-trafficking crimes for publications such as
The New York Times Magazine
,
Omni
,
Travel & Leisure
,
Audubon
,
National Wildlife
,
Mother Jones
,
Wildlife Conservation
,
Earth Journal
and
Animals Magazine
.