Polly Iyer - Diana Racine 03 - Backlash (36 page)
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Authors: Polly Iyer
Tags: #Mystery: Psychic Suspense - New Orleans
The Obligation
L
ucier
and Diana stopped at a diner for breakfast. They took a booth in the back, passing people who would never experience a morning like this one. Good thing, he thought. They both ordered the sunrise special. The waitress filled their coffee cups from a thermal pitcher she left on the table.
Diana’s hand shook when she brought the coffee to her lips. She’d been through a terrible ordeal, and it showed. “We’ll eat, then you’re going home,” he said. “You can come in later to give your statement.”
“Okay.” Diana set down her cup. “I saw what was going to happen, Ernie. Miss Kitty, Samuel, pushed me and I saw, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. They’d made an agreement.”
Lucier refilled both cups. “I guessed she promised to kill Craven rather than the other way around.”
“Samuel made Craven promise to kill him if they were caught. She said she wouldn’t be the prison fuck. Craven was supposed to kill himself after. Both of them could have killed me, but they didn’t.”
“You were no longer a threat.”
Diana related Samuel’s story about how he and Craven had connected. “There was a bond between those two.”
“Craven had many sides to him. He was a family man, an adoring father, a cop, and a killer. Certainly a more complicated man than I’m capable of understanding.”
“Why did he have to kill that poor, tortured soul? Samuel could have been protected in prison.”
Lucier shook his head, his expression grim. “As much as I’d like to say that would be the case, I’m afraid he’d have been a target from day one, and he knew it.”
Diana pushed her plate away. “You’re probably right.” She sighed. “I’ll tell Emile. He’ll want to know.”
“Later. Right now, you’re going home. After you’ve rested, we need to talk.”
“About what.”
“Later.”
“You can’t say something like that, then drop it. You just can’t.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“But you did. Now, what?”
Lucier had been thinking about this for a while. Now seemed as good a time as any to get it out into the open. “I think it’s time we lived together. We’re with each other all the time anyway, and, well, I don’t want to be apart from you.”
Diana remained motionless and speechless for an uncomfortably long time.
Had he made a mistake?
“I’ve thought the same thing, really, only I didn’t know if you were ready.” She reached across the table. “Until lately, I didn’t know if I was ready, but I am. One thing, though. I know you have a nice house, bigger than mine, but I can’t live in it. There are too many memories there that have nothing to do with me, and I would be uncomfortable.”
“I know. Your house is fine, big enough for the two of us.”
“What ― what if there are three of us?”
He stared at her, unsure. “Are you saying ―”
“No, no. But there could be if we wanted.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. There are bigger places all around the New Orleans’ area. Safe places with good schools, affordable on a cop’s salary, maybe a captain’s salary.”
“Captain?”
“I’m thinking about a suggestion the superintendent made. He wants me to consider taking the captain’s exam. I haven’t decided, but it’s a possibility.”
“That’s fantastic, if that’s what you want.”
“I’m not sure. I like being on the streets occasionally, and I’m not good at the politics of the police department. But I promised I’d think about it.”
“Don’t forget, I have some money. More than some. If we’re partners, I’d expect to pull my share.”
“We’ll discuss that too. Besides, you need me around to keep you out of trouble.”
“We’ve been together for almost a year, and I still got into trouble. What’s more, I dragged you along with me.”
Lucier reached his hand across the table and took hers. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be in trouble with, my love.”
He drove her home. In the car, he said, “Now get some rest. Tonight is ours, yours and mine. Pick any restaurant in the city. I’ll be ready for a full course dinner.”
“Any restaurant?”
“Surprise me.” He walked her to her door, thinking about the last time he did. But this morning, there were no flying bullets, no blood. He held her tight and kissed her.
“I’ve missed you, Ernie.”
“I’m back.”
“We’re back,” she said.
* * * * *
A
t the
district, Lucier filled his team in on everything that happened at the hospital.
“I’m still reeling over Captain Craven being our vigilante-in-chief,” Cash said.
Beecher and Halloran grunted agreement.
“And Miss Kitty,” Halloran said. “Snuffed by the captain. Kitty’s Kabaret won’t be the same.”
Beecher, munching on carrot sticks, said, “I hate that. Miss Kitty was a true character. A New Orleans institution.”
“Yes, she was, but don’t forget, her boots puts her at the trailer where a kid would have died if not for Diana and Willy. So don’t feel too sorry for her.” Lucier closed the file on his desk. “Diana said she’d talk to Emile. Miss Kitty’s last words were to tell him she loved him, now and forever, or something like that.”
“If I were a sentimentalist, I’d shed a tear at that,” Beecher said. “But I’m not. Still, it’s kind of touching.”
“My dad’s a chemist,” Cash said. “He always said for every action there’s a reaction. There sure was in this case.”
“Stronger than a reaction,” Halloran said. “More like a deadly backlash, all beginning with a drunk driver and an auto accident.”
How different Craven’s life would have been if that hadn’t happened. Lucier felt a deep sorrow for what might have been. After putting the folder in the file cabinet, he slipped on his jacket. “Finish up the paperwork, if you don’t mind. I have an errand to do.”
“Sure thing, Boss,” Cash said. “I’m glad you’re back.”
Lucier stopped, turned. “You guys did an amazing job. There isn’t a better team in all of New Orleans.”
Thank you in three different voices responded.
Lucier smiled and left the office. He stopped at a local shop to make a purchase before driving across town. Twenty minutes later, he parked his car in the lot of St. Catherine’s Living Center and strode inside. His nerves jangled, but he’d made a promise to himself. He approached the visitor’s desk.
“I’m looking for MaryAnn Craven,” he said.
The woman behind the desk frowned. “Are you family?”
“A friend of the family”
“Awful about the captain,” she said.
“Yes, it is. May I see MaryAnn?”
“You’ll have to see the director.”
“Fine.”
The receptionist made a call. Lucier couldn’t hear what she said, but in a moment, an attractive, middle-aged woman came through a door behind the station. Lucier introduced himself and explained what he wanted.
After small talk about the captain, she said, “Right this way.”
He followed the director into a large room. A television played a recent sit-com. Some adults watched the program, others chatted, still others sat staring into space.
“That’s MaryAnn over there,” the woman said.
MaryAnn Craven sat alone at a table, turning the pages of a colorful picture book. Lucier was taken aback by the sheer beauty of the young woman. With hair so blond it was almost white, she sparkled like a diamond in a box full of pebbles.
The backlash from this child’s accident had set in motion the death and devastation of so many lives, including his, yet she remained an innocent, a perpetual child who’d never know the cost of her impairment. That was the only good thing to come out of the horror of her father’s wayward brand of justice.
He watched her for a while as she turned the pages, pointing at the pictures. Would he have wanted one or all of his children to live like this had they survived the accident that had taken their lives and changed his irrevocably? Lucier didn’t have an answer.
He put the thought in his mental file marked “Never Think of Again” and sauntered over to MaryAnn Craven. She looked up and smiled when he sat down in a chair next to her. Her large eyes were the clear blue of a perfect summer day.
“Hello, MaryAnn. I’m a friend of your father’s.” He gently pushed aside a golden lock from her forehead and swallowed a lump in his throat. “I brought you some chocolates, then I’d like to read you a story.”