Where The Devil Won't Go: A Lucas Peyroux Novel (21 page)

I opened the paper, which looked to be a
scan of someone’s writing. It had the capital letters ‘MA’ and a phone number.
“What’s this from?”

Amy held up her phone. “That was Harry’s.
I took the picture and printed it out for you.”

“Whose number is this?” I asked while
handing the paper to Tara.

“I don’t know, but it has something to do
with your investigation.”

“Technically, we don’t have an
investigation anymore.” Tara sat on her desk as I found a chair. “You’re going
to have to explain from the beginning.”

“I quit last night. Harry and I have been
having an affair for about a year. It took me this long to realize he was never
going to leave his wife. Last night a light bulb went off in this stubborn head
of mine. After he thought I fell asleep, he pulled out that paper and called
some guy, but I could only make out a few words here and there.”

“How do you know it was a guy?” I asked.

She blinked. “Oh, I don’t know. I just
assumed.”

“How do you know it has to do with us?”
Tara asked.

“That I do know because he said Peyroux.”

“You know the name of the person he
called?”

“No, but I’m guessing the M.A. are his
initials.”

“How much of the conversation did you
make out?” Tara asked.

“He was being threatened. He said your
name – Peyroux and he also said Apex.”

“Apex?” I asked.

“Definitely Apex. Could that be a
European name? The ‘A’ in M.A?”

“I’ll get a trace on the number,” Tara
said.

“Whatever we do, we can’t let the Feds
know.”

Amy became concerned. “The FBI? Is Harry
being investigated by the FBI?”

“We can’t comment on that. Does Harry
know you took this picture?” I asked.

“Not a clue.”

“So, are you ready to be truthful about
that party?”

Her eyes widened. “That was the truth,
Lucas. I didn’t know of any party.”

“That’s alright. He didn’t want you to
know.” I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“What is he into?”

I ignored her question and tilted my
head, motioning for Tara to follow me out of earshot of Amy. I whispered, “We
stopped questioning Harry. I’m guessing M.A. stands for Winslow’s boss –
whoever that is.”

“Obviously, not Raymond Corondelet.”

“Are we at the point of ignoring orders?”
 
I bit my bottom lip while waiting for
answer that never came.

#

Alicia attacked the soccer ball,
aggressive about what she wanted, just like her father. Pure joy crossed her
daughter’s face every time her foot made contact and Heather suppressed the
resentment for his working so much lately, especially when it didn’t seem he
needed to.

The game ended. After all the post-game
shenanigans and victory speeches, Alicia sprinted back to the sidelines. The
other parents packed up and left like specially trained Navy Seals on their way
to Pizza Hut to celebrate, clogging up the side street. Alicia and Jane were
the last ones left on the field chatting it up. When they finished, Jane ran in
the opposite direction and Alicia strolled towards her.

“Alicia, let’s go. Hurry up.” Heather put
her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. All of the other parents were in their cars,
lined up to get out of the neighborhood.

“Chill out, Mom. Look at the street.
We’re not going anywhere.”

 
Heather stopped about fifty yards from the car to pull out
her key. She turned to look at Alicia, whose ponytail whipped in the hot
breeze. Her face was dirty and the jersey’s underarms were wet. “I know. I just
want to get in the air condition.”

Not a second later, the car exploded into
a fireball. Heather instinctively covered her daughter’s head. Alicia shrieked,
staring at the wreckage in a state of shock. Bystanders gathered and got out of
their cars. Cell phones took video.

“Holy crap! Why did our car blow up?”
Alicia asked in a squeaky voice.

“I don’t know, honey. I don’t know. But,
I’m going to call your father.”

Heather and Alicia took slow, cautious
steps toward the car. Sirens in the distance grew louder by the second.

#

I opened the unlocked door and entered
Harry Winslow’s house without knocking or ringing the bell. I listened for the
scratching claws or bark of an attack dog, ready to shoot it. The house was
sprawling, decorated in marble and mirrors, but my momentum took me right into
the industrial sized kitchen where his wife hovered over a spread of hot dogs,
potatoes, and burgers.

She startled, grabbing a knife. “Who are
you? I’ll use this.”

“No doubt. I need your husband. Where is
he?”

“You want Harry? You don’t knock? You
barge right into our home?” She placed the knife down.

“I don’t have time to explain. Where is
he?”

“You don’t tell me who you are, I’m
calling the police.” She reached for her cell phone.

I held up my badge. “Mrs. Winslow, I
am
the police. Is he out there? Outside?”

His two kids had just escaped through an
open sliding glass door and I covered that ground in seconds. When I reached
the patio, Harry was already heading towards me with a long fork wearing an
apron. My right hand found his throat, pushing him backwards as my left hand
kept his weapon at bay. I pushed until he fell into his patio chair with my
weight over his.

“Hi, Harry. How are you? Doing good, I
hope.” I banged the barbeque fork out of his hand and eased up on his throat.
“You weren’t going to stab me with that, were you?”

“You’re that detective…” He choked. “What
are you doing?”

“Leave my daddy alone, mister.” The older
kid said as his sword swatted my thigh.

“I’m a policeman, little man. I’m not
going to hurt your dad. He just scared me with that big fork.” Guilt set in as
his older brother pulled the kid inside.

“I’m calling 9-1-1,” his wife yelled.
“The real police.” She stood there with the phone in her hand, waiting for her
husband’s okay.

“You gonna be calm, Harry? If I get off
you, can we talk in a civil manner?”

Harry nodded. “It’s fine, honey. This is
a misunderstanding. Put the phone down and keep the kids inside.”

I backed off and pulled a chair next to
him. When the sliding door had shut, I said, “One of your imaginary party
guests tried to kill my wife.”

“What?”

“The Feds are either protecting one of
their own or someone high up. You squashed my investigation of your company, so
why was there an explosive device placed under my wife’s car?”

“Someone put a bomb in your wife’s car?”
His hand rubbed his stomach as if sick.

“Yes, and it detonated. Luckily there
were no casualties.”

“I have no idea about that.”

“Really? What about Apex? It might be in
your best interest to tell me what you know.”

Harry pulled a pill bottle from his
shorts, popping one in his mouth. “They do that to your wife’s car, what do you
think will happen to me?”

“At this point, I don’t give a shit about
you. Maybe your wife would like to know the kinds of benefits your pretty
blonde employees really get.”

He lowered his voice to a growl. “That
ended.”

“Who is M.A?”

“You know about Apex? You don’t know
shit.”

“I need to know who’s in charge. Your
best chance is to tell me.”

“Over half the people we cater to have
the kind of connections that the mob would envy. Once wind got out that there
was an investigation, they got very nervous. Made lots of calls, many of them
to me. I’m the one that orders the Almas Caviar that was found in that girl’s
stomach. I’m the reason my clients are nervous. I’m lucky to still be alive and
you really think I have the power to call it off?”

“I don’t think you have any power at all.
I need to know who does.”

“If I were you, I’d concentrate on
protecting your wife and daughter. That bomb was a warning or they’d be dead.”

I almost struck him across the face. Harry
Winslow, Esquire, was a mid-level link on the food chain, nowhere near calling
the shots, unless he was a great actor. There always seemed to be a bigger
fish.
I stared at him and God help me
,
Chance came to mind
.
 

Chapter 35

Tabby leaned in close to apply the smoky
shadow around Cozy’s eyes. That, with the new hairstyle, made her virtually
unrecognizable from the homeless girl who had appeared right off the street.
Cozy wore a green, strapless evening gown, much like she had seen in bridal
magazines, but was curious about the outfit they expected her to wear at the
party. Another glass of wine would help calm her nerves.

Tabby poured two glasses. “So, Ray was
cooperative?”

“Not at all. Very closed-lipped.”

“You must have tried to work that bayou
charm.”

“My charms had no effect on that man.
After he changed the subject a couple of times, I decided to let it go. But,
I’m not through by a long shot. I’ll find out who Haley was with at the party
tonight from one of the other girls.”

“If you ask any questions, Ray will hear
about it.”

Cozy finally made eye contact. “I’d
rather not talk about Ray.”

“Sure, but it’s just that he hasn’t
called me yet and he isn’t answering. With your going over there, he should
have
rang
me up as soon as you walked out the door.”

“Who knows with that guy? How do I look?”

“You are absolutely stunning.” Tabby
inspected her creation. “You could pass for fifteen or twenty-five, depending
on what they’re looking for.”

“So, you know who I’m getting tonight?”

“Senator Folsom, I think.”

“Folsom?”
This wasn’t a coincidence
.

Tabby continued, “Usually, the
participants pick the girls out, but you were chosen by the VIP you serviced
the other night specifically for the Senator.” Tabby entwined her fingers with
Cozy’s, who stood with a bland expression. They faced each other in a moment of
silence. Tabby placed her hands on Cozy’s waist. “Like I’ve said; you can’t
fish for information with the Senator. Questions are not allowed.”

“I know.”

“If you have it in your head that he
killed your sister, you might do something you’ll regret.”

Cozy turned away. “Either way, is Folsom
all that innocent?”

“Don’t go down that road.”

“What?”

Tabby caressed her forearm. “It’s not up
to you to decide who’s guilty or their degree of guilt. You’ve already killed
two people in your lifetime.”

“I’ll be good.” Cozy didn’t lift her
arms, but forced a smile as Tabby pulled her close.

“What are your plans afterwards?” Tabby
asked. “When you’re done with this mission of yours?”

“Depends on if I get caught. You?”

“Rethink my life. Maybe get out of the
game.”

“Ray won’t be too happy with that, I
imagine.”

“He’d be hurt, but he knows my heart
isn’t with Molly’s anymore. Maybe I should call him again.”

Cozy touched her wrist. “Oh, he did say
he had a meeting in Baton Rouge.”

“Baton Rouge on a Sunday?”

“Something about a casino.”

“He’s probably hob-nobbing with the
politicians up there. The mayor and City Council isn’t enough anymore. He so
wants to get close to the governor. I think he may run for office one day. I
think this city would love that he owned a strip club.” Tabby rose onto her
toes to kiss Cozy on the forehead.

#

Tabby chauffeured Cozy and three other
girls down the oak-lined entrance of a magnificent three-story plantation home situated
behind acres of vibrant green grass. She had never seen anything so majestic
and, considering its history, so tragic. Tabby informed her passengers that
this place was used for weddings, private dinner parties and political
fundraisers for many black politicians – ironic, given the number of
slaves that had been abused on this very land.

Tonight, the entire staff had been given
the day off.

They veered around the side of the house
to the servant’s entrance. If things went as planned, Cozy could possibly try
to reunite with Tabby one last time. Vegas odds would say that she would never
see Tabby again. As the other girls piled out, Cozy leaned in for a quick,
discreet kiss on Tabby’s lips.

A man in a dark suit and glasses held the
door open without a greeting, giving everyone a clear entrance. Cozy scooted in
with the others girls and was escorted to a luxurious room with pristine
antique furniture, where a spread of sliced fruit, crab cakes, finger
sandwiches and lemonade sat in plain view. Each of the curious ladies found a
chair and waited in silence. Cozy figured they were all being watched on some
multi-screen video feed in another part of the mansion.

Two more women entered the room dressed
to impress. They exchanged a glance, but didn’t fraternize much like kids at
their first school dance. She wondered if there were more escorts in the other
rooms and, underneath it all, how sick that this was just an excuse to have a
sex party.

“First time?” A tall, slender blonde
asked. She didn’t wait for an answer as she downed a full glass of lemonade.
Her eyes twinkled blue against pale skin.

Cozy smiled, patting the chair for her to
sit. “Yeah, does it show?”

“You’re wide-eyed. This is my third
party. An Arkansas congressman has taken a liking to me. Well, he likes what I
do for him.”

“Do I want to know?”

“It might help relax you to know what you’re
getting into. Hold on a second.” The blond got up on long boney legs and
refilled her glass. She returned taking a large swallow.

“Thirsty? That’s going to make you have
to pee really bad.”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly, what? Won’t your having to pee
make it uncomfortable for you?”

“Oh, sweetie, you are so cute. He
wants
me to piss on him. Sure, any one
of these chicks can squat over him and let loose, but apparently I have the
strongest stream he’s ever seen.”

“That’s gross.”

“My talent for peeing makes me a
shit-load of money. You have to be prepared for anything. Just remember, you’re
not here to get off – they are. What they like has nothing to do with
you. You just have to play along.”

“Thanks. That’s good advice.”

The blonde finished the lemonade and let
out a charming belch before filling it up again.