- •The Intersection of Law and Desire
- •I let her sit in silence for a few moments before repeating, “What do they have on you?”
- •I hesitated for a second, embarrassed at what came to mind. “Oh, hell. Jerking off,” I finally admitted.
- •I felt a touch of slickness between my legs. “I’m wet,” I acknowledged.
- •I brushed some of the water out of my hair, hoping it would spot her leather interior and muttered, “Whoever said, ‘Better late than never’?”
- •I would be seeing Cordelia tomorrow, I suddenly realized. And myself in the mirror later tonight. I gently removed Karen’s arms from around my neck.
- •I picked up her bike rack and my duffel bag with my oh so beloved running shoes, while Cordelia managed her bike and gear. After locking up, we headed down to put the bike on her car.
- •I turned sharply around to scan the road. “Nope. Not a Rolls in sight. The snootiest car visible is a Cadillac. And it’s not even this year’s model. I don’t think they’re watching you right now.”
- •I watched them as they pedaled away, Torbin riding abreast with Cordelia. She was nodding her head to something he was saying. Then a line of trees hid them from my view.
- •I stopped. Clearly we needed to have more than a one-sided conversation. Joanne looped back to me.
- •I shrugged noncommittally.
- •I nodded as I waited by the passenger door for her to open it.
- •I grinned at his use of tv cop show cliché, then said, “I’ll do what I can. I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got something to report.”
- •I didn’t recognize the desk sergeant. I introduced myself, then bantered a bit about the Saints’ chances for the playoffs this year.
- •I opened it and started reading, although I knew it would back him up. Bill did paperwork until I decided I had read all of the autopsy report that I cared to. I handed the file back to him.
- •I didn’t need to look around to know that Joey had arrived.
- •I let my disapproval hang in the silence for a long moment. “Eight months? And you’re just now wondering about it?”
- •I decided that sniping at each other wasn’t going to be helpful. “What do you do to calm her fears?”
- •I installed the night-light next to Cissy’s bed, then stayed up reading until a little after three, but no one stirred. Maybe the night-light would keep away Cissy’s fears.
- •I gave her a quick rundown while driving out of the airport maze. Then I asked the question I had been wanting to ask. “What do you know about child psychology?”
- •I shrugged, met her gaze for a moment, then looked away. “What do we do?” I demanded.
- •I stood gazing out the window to avoid looking at her while she packed up.
- •I nodded yes.
- •I thought for a moment. Barbara Selby couldn’t afford anything like it. Then I remembered the money Karen was paying me.
- •I decided to do some work on my one paying case and dialed Torbin’s number.
- •I didn’t reply, instead I crossed my arms and looked away from him.
- •I knelt beside Cissy. “I think I like the blue one the best. Which one do you like?”
- •I nodded, then said, “I’m glad you noticed.”
- •I nodded, then added, “I’m not asking for your money back.”
- •I started to ask her about Lindsey, but realized that I was picking at scabs, scratching and irritating them.
- •I sat next to her, taking her hand between both of mine. “Now tell me about your day.”
- •I shuddered beneath Cordelia’s embrace, warmth a fragile and fleeting thing.
- •I didn’t answer. I slowly leaned back into her embrace. Warm and alive and not in immediate pain seemed to be all that I could offer her.
- •I watched Cordelia as she spoke. She believed what she said, but if I gave in to her wishes, then the power became hers and I would have to trust that she would not use it.
- •I turned and led the way to the kitchen.
- •I quickly hurried down the stairs and out of the courtyard, feeling ragged and torn, unwilling to have her voice leave another mark on me.
- •I looked again at the matchbook. “Heart of Desire” was scripted in gold on a black background. Some of the gold lettering had begun to chip.
- •I said, “What are you working on? We might—”
- •I reluctantly gave him the number to Cordelia’s clinic.
- •I sat for a moment before finally replying, “I need to talk to a lawyer first.”
- •I put the black binder back on o’Connor’s desk, a faint unsettled queasiness rolling in my stomach.
- •I thought for a moment. Legally it would probably be Aunt Greta, but she was the last person I’d want involved. “I guess my cousin, Torbin Robedeaux.”
- •I watched Joey walk out of the bar. The fish had taken the bait. But look what usually happens to bait. I didn’t drive by Cordelia’s apartment on my way out of the Quarter.
- •I held my temper. Joey was playing with me, testing my limits. “I like men. I even love some men. I just get real bored with them when they take their clothes off.”
- •I started to say it wasn’t her money but her mortal soul that I was worried about, but Joey wouldn’t understand and I was beyond explaining it.
- •I turned into the driveway of Lindsey’s office.
- •I finally broke the silence by asking, “Is she okay?”
- •I knew she was right. Law and justice aren’t the same thing. “Is she okay? How badly hurt is she?”
- •I spun on my heel, angry at her. Then I turned back and said as gently as I could, “If you need my help, you know my number. Call me anytime.”
- •I headed in the direction he had indicated. For a moment, the sound of our footsteps mingled, then his faded into the distance and mine alone echoed.
- •I nodded and he continued.
- •I looked at the floor for several moments before I finally answered, “For a while. I lived there…I couldn’t get away from him.” Then I said, “I’d prefer to talk about something else.”
- •I spent most of the weekend at my apartment. No one called me, and I called no one.
- •I nodded slowly, but made no other reply.
- •I climbed into the backseat.
- •I got down to business. “So when does the ceiling fall on Zeke’s head?”
- •I handed the last box to Mr. Unfriendly, then hopped out of the truck. Zeke led the way back into the building. Mr. Silent followed me, closing the door on the cool night.
- •I gave both Betsy and Camille my phone number. Then, with Camille running interference, we headed back downstairs.
- •I didn’t know what to do except respond. I had not expected this. I had come up with dozens of scenarios, but none of them had included Lindsey kissing me.
- •I shrugged, then since she was fronting the money, answered, “No, not for you, it shouldn’t be.”
- •I crossed my arms over my chest, a barricade of sorts. “I need a shrink’s advice,” was my opening. “How do you say no when someone’s making a sexual advance that you’re not sure you want?”
- •I said nothing. I didn’t think Lindsey deserved the accident, but that was a road she had to walk.
- •I felt a surge of jealousy. I knew I wasn’t Cordelia’s first lover, but that wasn’t the same thing as hearing Lindsey describe this.
- •I checked the gun. It was loaded. I suddenly turned and pointed it at Algernon. He stopped and merely looked at me.
- •In the alley you will meet your escort to the boat. That way no one can follow you or recognize your car.
- •I switched it on and found the path into the dark woods.
- •I took one of the pay packets out and waved it in Vern’s face. Then I said, “I don’t pay sexist assholes. You want your money, you’d better deal with me.”
- •I didn’t. That was the horrible thing. “Load up the kids,” I said, to buy time. Maybe if I got enough men out of here I could chance pulling my gun.
- •I held the kiss a little longer, giving her time to get the key securely under her tongue. Then I broke it off. I wondered what Cordelia was thinking.
- •I padlocked the door. It would keep them in, but it would also keep the crew out.
- •I handed it to Ron, and said, “Thanks a lot. I’ve got to get these kids to bed now. It’s almost midnight and they’re very tired.”
- •I lifted the next girl. She was silent, asking no questions, expecting nothing. Cordelia was helping me now, we both put the next two girls in at the same time. Then in silence, the last two.
- •I aimed at him and fired.
- •I told my tale as best I could, still waiting for word on Cordelia and the kids.
- •I just shrugged, terrified to lift my barricades. I couldn’t admit how desperately I wanted to revive the time when I was sure she loved me.
- •I looked at Cordelia. Usually we’re locked in our own world, our own needs and desires. Cordelia had just let me into a place where she was small and scared. “I’m so afraid of you,” I admitted.
- •I let the tension ease out of me and closed my eyes.
- •I got up to leave. His money could buy many things. A lesson in the cost of betrayal was one of them. Francois had made his choices.
- •I ignored that. “Why do you think Francois won’t betray you?”
- •I started to point out that was clichéd, too, but decided that Kessler wasn’t interested in knowing that. I didn’t talk.
- •I slammed my heel into his instep, causing him to howl in pain.
- •I didn’t know if Barbara was asking a rhetorical question or asking me about myself. I answered as if it were the latter, “The memory remains. Don’t silence her. Don’t ever blame her.”
- •I watched them as they went down the hall, not wanting to go with them. Instead, I walked back the way I came, giving Barbara and Cissy time to find their way home.
- •I didn’t look back as we drove away.
I got up to leave. His money could buy many things. A lesson in the cost of betrayal was one of them. Francois had made his choices.
“That is interesting. You are an interesting companion, Miss Knight.” It was his highest compliment, spoken as a god to a mortal.
“Good-bye,” I said. “I doubt we’ll see each other again.”
He began counting his ancient coins as I let myself out. No one was in the Blue Room. One of his tuxedoed henchmen held the door for me as I left, no doubt a video camera cuing him as I approached.
There were a few people in the downstairs area, but I paid no attention to them. Dawn was coming and there were places I had to go. I headed for the back door. Just as I got there, Francois appeared, his servant’s mask intact.
“Is everything satisfactory, Ms. Knight?”
“Quite. I think Colombé found our conversation very interesting.”
“Oh?”
Francois had to be aware that Joey was just one more skin for this snake to shed. It didn’t much matter whether he had gotten the whole seventy-five or just skimmed twenty-five off the top. I considered telling him what Colombé now knew about his betrayal, just to see his mask crumble. But I merely said, “Yes. Good-bye, Francois.” And as I had said to Colombé, “I doubt I’ll see you again.”
“Oh?” His curiosity held him. “You’re not working for us anymore?” The smile that appeared on his face was smug, letting me know that I was no better than he was.
“I never worked for you,” I replied savagely.
He looked surprised. Soon he would understand. I wondered which master he would serve then.
I turned and walked out the door, then got in my car and drove away. As I passed through the wrought iron gate, I could think of no reason that I would ever return to the Sans Pareil Club. I felt no regrets.
Chapter 37
A gray dawn had appeared while I was hidden away in Colombé’s lair. The sun might not shine today. It was a little after seven. The beginning of a Monday morning would not be a convenient time for him, but I no longer cared for convenience.
The parents weren’t here yet, and parking was easy to find. A few children were in the schoolyard, their sleepy eyes waiting for the day to begin. I was an adult with adult privileges, and walking into the school door before the official beginning of classes wasn’t forbidden to me. I strode purposely, too quickly for any memories these halls might hold to catch me.
He was just coming out of his office as I rounded the corner.
“Warren. May I talk to you?” I called to him.
He looked surprised to see me. He quickly covered it by saying, “Micky, I didn’t expect to see you here at this time in the morning.” His friendly grin smoothly fell into place.
“No doubt,” I supplied.
He headed back into his office and I followed. In the shrouded night, I had been so sure, so confident. Now in the day, in his office with children’s pictures covering the wall, everything seemed too normal, too gentle to harbor a monster that taught children the adult lesson of how quickly betrayal can walk into your life.
Kessler sat behind his desk, his expression easy and calm. “What can I do for you, Micky?” he asked kindly.
He indicated a chair opposite him, but I couldn’t sit. I leaned against the window, watching the arriving kids. “You gave yourself away,” I said.
“Oh? How so?” He sounded puzzled. But the kindness in his voice was slipping away.
“You couldn’t resist taunting me about my cousin. I’ve only told a few close friends about him. And you. Only you could have left that note on Cissy’s picture.”
“Take off your jacket,” he ordered, the kindness gone so utterly, it might never have existed. Without waiting to see if I would comply, he grabbed my wrist, and pulled me away from the window. His other hand searched for a gun or a wire. When he found none, he released me. “What do you want? More money?”
“Justice.”
Kessler laughed. “Try again.”
“Did you kill Judy Douglas?”
“No. Poor Judy really did fall and kill herself. We had a few more pictures to take. If she hadn’t run away from me, she wouldn’t have tripped.”
“She was running from you. You used her death as a way to terrify the children into silence.”
“Not that crude. They were just told that that’s what happens to little girls who play when they should be working.”
“Do you enjoy frightening children?”
“No, I hate it. But, dear me, a man’s got to make a living,” he retorted sarcastically.
“Why did you kill Joey?”
“Why not?” he callously replied. “He wanted too much. Too much money, too much power. Children are easy. I thought an adult might be more of a challenge. But Joey never suspected until I actually had the noose over his neck.”
“You almost sound disappointed.”
“I’ve never killed an adult before. I looked at it as taking a step up, novice to veteran. His body was a little heavier, that was all. A lollipop or a thousand dollars. They’re all easy to fool.”
“Francois Brunette. Where does he fit in?”
“Francois, my old college roommate. We were both meant for better things.”
“Better than molesting girls?” I acidly retorted.
“I’m not going to spend the rest of my days listening to whining brats and their snarling parents for some two-bit pension. I want comfort. A penthouse in New York. A flat in London.”
“Like the plantations built on the backs of slaves. Ten, a hundred, a thousand lives broken for your comfort.”
“And what do you have, Micky? A barely running car, a cheap apartment in a bad neighborhood?”