Gotta Get Next To You (23 page)

“How y’all doin’?” he said in a thick Cajun
accent. “I haven’t seen you in a while, T-John. And when you do
show up, you bring bad news.” His bushy brows drew down.

“Hey, Harley. You look good.” John slapped
his palm into Boudreaux’s hand and shook it firmly. “Think of it
this way, we’re going to help you keep this parish safe.”

“Uh-huh.” Sheriff Boudreaux grunted and
turned his attention to Lee; his frown deepened. “With a private
detective?”

“Harley, Lee Matthews is one of the sharpest
private detectives around.” John pointed to Lee with an affable
expression.

“Yeah,” Boudreaux said. He shook Lee’s hand
and dropped into the chair behind his desk. “So, John, tell me. Why
are you a citizen crime fighter all of a sudden?”

John and Lee sat down in two faded pea green
vinyl chairs. “I’ve been working with Bayou Blue to help them get
that clinic on its feet.”

“Got your hand in everything as usual.”
Boudreaux’s mouth lifted at one end.

“I’m interested in improving the community,
yes.” John smiled at him. “Unfortunately the clinic hasn’t lived up
to my expectations.”

“What you mean is two or three folks over at
the clinic screwed the place up.”

“Yes, but it goes deeper than that. Some of
the equipment is missing. That’s bad enough. But Lee thinks we’ve
got a more serious problem brewing.” John nodded to Lee.

“Actually I think a serious problem is about
to get a whole lot worse,” Lee said.

“How’s that?” Boudreaux rocked his chair back
and forth. He looked at John instead of Lee.

“I’m pretty sure drugs have been stolen from
the small clinic pharmacy,” Lee answered in a firm voice.

Boudreaux’s easygoing expression disappeared
when he looked at Lee. “You got proof?”

“I’ve been working at the clinic for almost
two months. The records are in shambles. We can’t be sure all the
drugs were given to patients,” Lee said.

Boudreaux shrugged. “Don’t mean somebody’s
been stealin’ ’em. Could be you just had some sloppy record
keepers.”

“That’s only part of it. One of the employees
is involved with a local gang. I think he’s been stealing for
them.”

“We figure they’re selling the stuff on the
street. A lot of drugs could move through the clinic,” John said in
a grave tone.

Lee wanted to laugh but kept a straight face.
“Yeah, right. Anyway, I told this kid that I want in on the deal.
Denny might tell me more any day now.”

“But he hasn’t said anything yet?” Boudreaux
asked.

Lee shook his head. “No. He’s more than
likely checking it out with Ty’Rance Wilson. He’s—”

“I know who he is,” Boudreaux broke in. “He’s
scum, has been since he was a kid.”

“Yeah, I get the impression he’s a bad guy,
real mean,” Lee said.

“Humph, I know of more than a few boys
carryin’ scars he gave ’em,” Boudreaux said with a sour grimace.
“I’d like nothin’ better than to personally escort him to
Angola.”

Lee nodded. The Louisiana State Penitentiary
in Angola, Louisiana, was one of the toughest prisons in the South.
It housed some of the meanest convicted felons in the state. Most
were carrying sentences of twenty years or more. The percentage of
those doing life was high as well.

It was obvious Boudreaux did not like private
detectives. That, and the sheriff’s personal interest in taking
down Ty’Rance, gave Lee hope he could soon pull out of the whole
sticky mess. Like most cops, Boudreaux wanted to handle crime in
his territory without outsiders butting in.

“What I can do is put together all the facts,
throw in a couple of theories, and let you take it from there,” Lee
said.

“Of course, Lee’s built up a relationship
with this Denny Kincaid,” John put in.

“I’ve gotten about as much as they need. I’m
sure a deputy can be placed inside the clinic and learn more.”
Lee’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Mandeville.

“But that will be starting over. Denny won’t
confide in somebody new right away, if at all.” John turned to
Boudreaux, but said no more.

The sheriff glanced from Lee to John. “I
think I see where this is headed. Forget it. You know damn well we
don’t use no civilians to do undercover work.”

“Bull! You use informants all the time,” John
retorted.

“Yeah, but they ain’t private eyes,”
Boudreaux said with a sneer. “The last thing I need is for this
fella to get shot up. Him or his next of kin will be suin’ the
taxpayers for a million bucks.”

“Lee knows what he’s doing,” John said with
confidence.

“It don’t take nothin’ but a week of
half-assed trainin’ to get a private investigator’s license in this
state,” Boudreaux retorted.

“I was on the Los Angeles police force for
five years and an L.A. County sheriff for a year before that,” Lee
said in a clipped voice.

But Lee was not offended. He’d felt the same
when he was a cop. In fact, he welcomed the sheriff’s attitude. He
would just as soon extricate himself from this case and move on.
There was one big downside, but he dodged that train of
thought.

Boudreaux looked at Lee with less scorn.
“Okay, so you’re not the run-of-the-mill idiot gettin’ mixed up in
police business. I still don’t like it.”

“Which is understandable. And you’re not
exactly starting over. You know where to look and what to look
for,” Lee said.

“On the other hand, T-John here has a point.”
Boudreaux sat forward and put both elbows on the desk-top. “The
Kincaid kid trusts you. We can find out more a lot faster with you
in there. Get them boys in jail faster, too.”

Lee pressed his lips together. “Maybe.”

Lee also understood the advantage of
finishing what he’d started with Denny, but he sure as hell wasn’t
going to say it. Sheriff Boudreaux was silent for several minutes
as he pondered his options. Without warning, he picked up the
receiver of the phone and punched in three numbers.

‘Ted, come in here a minute,” he said, then
hung up. ‘Ted Tullier is the chief deputy that covers this end of
the parish. He’s a smart guy. I want his opinion.”

They waited for only a short time before a
tall black deputy with a military-style haircut came in. His
uniform, dark khaki shirt and dark brown pants, were spotless. Ted
nodded to the two men before speaking to his boss. Lee concealed
his surprise that Boudreaux would put a black man in charge of
anything.

“Yeah, Sheriff. What’s up?” Ted leaned
against the closed door.

Boudreaux summarized the situation in a crisp
and concise manner that surprised Lee. His down-home, folksy manner
was gone. Lee revised his opinion of Boudreaux. This was no
stereotypical old-time southern sheriff.

“Mr. Matthews here is on the inside right
now. Question is this, do we want him to stay or do we take over?”
Boudreaux rocked back in his chair and fished a cigar from a desk
drawer. He chewed on it without lighting up.

Ted studied Lee for several minutes. His
expression gave nothing away. “You went undercover before?”

“Yeah, as an L.A. cop,” Lee replied.

“Okay.” Ted’s gaze flicked to Sheriff
Boudreaux. “You know how I feel about Ty’Rance and his crew. I’ve
been hearing he wants to take his gang to another level.”

“Yeah,” Boudreaux rumbled around the cigar in
his mouth. “Ain’t satisfied being small-time scum.”

“I’ll bet it was him or one of his boys that
shot up Lucky Dufour’s house the other night.” Ted looked at Lee.
“I figure it was payback. Lucky is trying to move in on him.”

“Drive-bys? Bad sign.” Lee knew all too well
that rural wanna-be gangsters had begun to pattern themselves on
big-city crooks.

Ted nodded. “Ty is trying to organize a bunch
of petty thieves and punks. He wants more profit and power.”

“Sounds like you’ve been keeping a close
watch on him,” Lee said.

“For the last five years at least.” Ted
turned to the sheriff. “He’s closer than we’ve ever gotten.” He
nodded in Lee’s direction.

“Them boys ain’t just a problem for Bayou
Blue either,” Boudreaux said.

Lee watched the two men, both silent and deep
in thought. He recognized the familiar bond between two policemen
who worked closely together. Their communication was a form of
verbal shorthand. Each understood the other’s train of thought so
well, long discussions were unnecessary.

“Sheryl,” Ted mumbled, more to himself than
anyone else.

“Who?” Lee asked.

“Sheryl Fosse, one of the deputies that
patrol Bayou Blue and towns in that district. She can be your
backup in case things go bad.” Boudreaux’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t
tell me you got a problem with female law officers.”

“None at all, just asking.” Lee grinned.

“Good, ’cause Sheryl will clean your clock if
you catch an attitude.” Boudreaux grinned back at him.

“I’d do it, but Ty'Rance knows I’m on his
tail.” Ted grimaced. “But they’re used to seeing her patrol the
area. He’d get suspicious if I start showing up more.”

“Makes sense,” Lee said.

Lee listened carefully as the two men
discussed shifting around patrols to free Sheryl even more. He was
impressed with their use of up-to-date policing techniques. Using
new computer programs, they concentrated patrols on problems areas.
Boudreaux and Ted exchanged a terse plan.

“So where do we go from here?” Mandeville
glanced from Ted to the sheriff.

Boudreaux stood and crossed to him. “You know
as much as you need to, John. Don’t worry. We gonna get this thing
wrapped up and save that clinic for you.”

“One thing, Harley, let’s make sure Miss
Noble isn’t pulled into anything dangerous,” John said with a
pointed look at the sheriff.

Sheriff Boudreaux nodded. “I understand,
T-John,” he said quietly.

Lee glanced from the sheriff to John. What
was that about? Mandeville’s protectiveness seemed almost personal.
Then Lee thought of Andrea’s mother. Maybe John had promised
Charlene that he’d take care of her daughter no matter what.

Mandeville stood and smoothed down the front
of his expensive sport shirt. “Good. I’ll leave it in your capable
hands. I’ve got my hands full with the board about this.” “One way
or the other, we’ll get it straight.” Boudreaux slapped him on the
back. “We’ll talk with Matthews here a little longer. You don’t
need to know the dirty details.”

Mandeville looked at him. “In other words,
get out, eh?” He chuckled. “All right, I’ll leave it to the
professionals.” He waved at them all and walked out of the
office.

Lee waited until the door had banged shut.
“What was that about the board?”

“John is in a political tug-of-war about the
clinic, among other things.” Boudreaux waved a hand as though to
dismiss the subject.

“Sorta like Ty’Rance and Lucky, two dogs
fighting over the same bone,” Lee observed. He glanced at Ted, who
cleared his throat.

Sheriff Boudreaux’s dark eyes flashed
irritation for a second, and then he forced a smile. “John is a
leading citizen. We try to keep leading citizens happy.”

“I see,” Lee said with a raised eyebrow. He
knew very well that the sheriff’s job was as much politics as law
enforcement.

“Keeping down crime is our number one
priority,” Sheriff Boudreaux said in a clipped military tone. He
clamped his jaws shut.

“I know that,” Lee said without a hint of
sarcasm. Po-lice chiefs all over the world had to juggle doing the
right thing and pleasing power brokers.

Boudreaux let out a long breath. “John ain’t
a bad fella, just used to getting what he wants, when he wants it.
Know what I mean?”

“I know,” Lee said.

“So let’s talk about how this thing is gonna
play out.” Boudreaux went back behind the desk and sat down
again.

Lee paid close attention to the men as they
gave him more complete information on Ty’Rance’s background and the
gang. Although Ted did most of the talking, the sheriff filled in a
few blanks as well. They finished an hour later, and Lee drove back
to his office in Harahan, but his mind was still in Bayou Blue.

Denny did not impress him as capable of
holding his own with Ty’Rance. The young man wanted to make fast
money and prove his manhood. Still, Lee did not sense he was
ruthless and unfeeling the way the men who surrounded Ty’Rance
were. At least Denny had not reached that point yet, but a lifetime
of disappointments and hard knocks certainly gave him the
potential. Denny’s feelings of discontent and resentment simmered
just beneath the surface. He was on the edge and Ty’Rance was ready
to give him a push. Lee thought of Andrea.

She was grateful to him for taking time with
Denny and he was setting a steel trap that would close on the kid.
Guilt gnawed at him.

He could almost smell the alluring scent of
her per-fume, a light floral fragrance that she wore to work every
day. Andrea seemed to think of Denny as a younger brother she was
determined to save. Of course, it could all be an act. Lee gripped
the steering wheel. He wondered once more if he was allowing
himself to be lulled by her beauty.

Before meeting Andrea Noble, Lee would have
sworn that was impossible. Growing up on the meanest streets in
South Central had left him with a tough outer shell. His childhood
had been cut short as a result. The one thing Lee had learned was
to be wary. His practice was to keep everyone at a safe
distance—less chance of getting stabbed in the back. Yet being with
Andrea day in and day out was messing with his head. Suddenly he
felt his life was an emotional desert. It was so good to joke with
her about experiences they’d shared or listen to her talk about her
dreams for the clinic. Lee yearned to be able to talk with her
about his goals, too. But he couldn’t, not without lying to her. He
couldn’t even tell her who he really was.

“This damn case.” Lee pounded the steering
wheel in frustration.