Gotta Get Next To You (31 page)

Chief Deputy Tullier’s eyes narrowed. “Did
you tell Denny already without talking to us?”

“Of course not,” Lee said. “I want to be able
to tell him he can cut a deal.”

Sheriff Boudreaux grunted. “The DA is up for
reelection. He’s always yappin’ about how he’s tough on crime.”

“Uh-huh. We gotta get a lecture on what the
taxpayers expect every time we go to him.” Tullier’s lip curled
with derision. “He’s running scared.”

“His pitiful conviction rate is why,”
Boudreaux said. Lee chafed at the injection of local politics.
“Look, he can pull in bigger fish than Denny. That’s the selling
point. Tell him how great he’ll look at the press conference.”

“He’ll love that. I can just see him standing
in his office rehearsing his speech. He’s got a big mirror in
there,” Tullier said with a grin.

“Yep, stares in that thing every time he
walks past it.” Sheriff Boudreaux chuckled. “Wants to make sure
he’s pretty for the cameras.”

“Ty’Rance is working hard to set up a major
drug ring, guys. He’s one mean dude,” Lee said.

“Yep, we know.” Sheriff Boudreaux’s smile
vanished. The three men grew silent. Lee thought back to Ty’Rance
and those cold fish eyes. There was not a hint of compassion or
human feeling in them. Lee had met men like him before. They could
laugh about inflicting pain. Killing rivals was considered part of
life.

“Like I said, your pal could get a lot of
nice press if he prosecutes that dirt bag,” Lee said finally.

“Not to mention if he gets a conviction,”
Sheriff Boudreaux said.

“But he’ll need solid evidence to put
Ty’Rance away a long time.” Lee perched on the edge of the
sheriff’s metal desk. “Denny can help us get it.”

“A lot of folks would be happy if we put
Ty’Rance in prison.” Tullier shot a glance at his boss. “The DA
needs their votes and he knows it.”

Sheriff Boudreaux rocked in his chair and
chewed on his cigar awhile longer. “Say we go along with it. We
bring Denny in and put the fear of God into him.”

“Yeah. Tell him the ugly facts of life if he
doesn’t cooperate,” Tullier added.

“Denny won’t be a hard sell if we do it
right,” Lee said. He looked at Tullier and then at the sheriff.

“How do you know he won’t say, ‘Blow it out
your ass!’?” Sheriff Boudreaux’s thick eyebrows bunched together
into a line. “We’ve got nothing on him. Denny hasn’t come out and
admitted anything except that he owes this guy.”

“Yeah. He hasn’t said he pilfered drugs from
the clinic. Or that he’s stolen for Ty’Rance,” Tullier said.

Lee had to admit they made a good point.
Whatever his faults, Denny was smart. He’d consider his options
with lightning speed. Young men like Denny had a cunning sense of
survival.

‘True. He could run back to California and
pay his debt from a safe distance,” Lee said. “That way he could
get off the hook and not have to inform.”

“And we wouldn’t have a damn thing on
Ty’Rance.” Sheriff Boudreaux grimaced. “We’d be the last ones to
know he’s got his gang fully organized.”

“Yeah, right about the time we start cleaning
up dead bodies from drive-bys,” Tullier said with a deep frown.

“Unless...” Lee said thoughtfully.

Sheriff Boudreaux stopped rocking the chair
and sat forward. “I’d be tickled pink to hear any good ideas.
Especially if it means Ty’Rance will spend a long time in
prison.”

Lee took a deep breath. What he would suggest
was a risk and would seem cruel to most. But he’d gotten to know
Denny quite well. His hostility toward any kind of authority and
the police in particular might lead him to bolt. He might even tell
Ty’Rance. It would likely be an anonymous call given his fear of
the man. But Denny’s fear was the key.

“It’s done all the time,” Lee said with
shrug. “We tell Denny that we’ll let Ty’Rance think he talked
anyway.” “A dangerous bluff.” Tullier shook his head slowly. “Denny
could get scared and run to Ty’Rance to convince him it’s a
lie.”

“He’d end up floating in the swamp,” Sheriff
Boudreaux said bluntly.

“Denny’s not that stupid. He knows Ty’Rance
would kill him in a second.” Lee felt sure that he was right.
Still, there was also a chance they were right. Lee counted on his
instinct about Denny and human nature. “You know him, huh?” Tullier
rubbed his chin.

Lee sat down in a faded green vinyl chair.
“Look, I know it seems cold. But Denny won’t last long running with
Ty’Rance. He’s not vicious enough.”

“So you want to save him from himself.”
Sheriff Boudreaux looked at Lee with a half smile. “Now you’re a
social worker instead of a private detective.” “I’m sick of
watching young black men self-destruct, yeah. Call it whatever you
want,” Lee said with heat. He did not add that guilt weighed in
heavily, too. Guilt that stretched back to his own brother.

“You’re not the only one,” the sheriff
replied, his smile gone.

“Amen,” Tullier added in a sober tone.

“Then let’s do this thing,” Lee said, and
stood. “I’ll bring him in. I can think of a story.”

The sheriff glanced at Tullier. The chief
deputy nodded. “No, I’ve got a better idea.”

They spent the next hour planning where they
would meet and how to proceed. After much wrangling, Sheriff
Boudreaux decided to ask a plainclothes state police trooper to
handle it. An unmarked car would stop Denny on his way home from
work. The trooper would take him to a state police substation where
they would be waiting.

“When?” Tullier asked.

“Soon as possible. This week?” Lee glanced at
the sheriff.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Sheriff Boudreaux
said.

“Call me at this pager number when it’s set
up.” Lee handed him one of his business cards.

“Got it.” The sheriff gave a sharp nod.

Lee said his good-byes and left. The drive to
Harahan was long, but not because of the miles. He was sure his
reasoning was sound. In more than one instance Lee had correctly
predicted Denny’s behavior. Andrea was right that they’d become
quite close. Anger boiled up again.

His instincts had failed him where she was
concerned. Every time he looked into those big brown eyes that
mirrored caring and sincerity, his suspicion evaporated. It was
hard for him to be coldly objective when he was near her all day
every day. She was so warm and ... No, he had to fall back on his
training as a cop and his experience with the nasty side of human
nature. He had to put aside emotion so he could see the entire
situation clearly.

She probably owed her daddy a great deal,
starting with a nice paycheck and cushy job. Then Lee shook his
head at that conclusion. It didn’t add up. He’d seen Andrea do
things for patients she didn’t have to. But what was it she’d said?
Something about working around the politics. Maybe she’d
compromised her ideals and made a deal with the devil. Maybe she
thought it was the only way. Lee had faced hard choices in his
life. It wasn’t fair of him to make assumptions. He understood what
she was up against. He hoped she would understand him in turn. Yet
he also knew that with those kinds of deals, the devil usually
won.

Lee turned his car around and headed back
toward Bayou Blue. He picked up the slim cell phone and punched the
number pads. “Mr. Mandeville please. Lee Matthews.” Several seconds
passed before Mandeville picked up. “Hello. We need to meet today.
One hour is fine.”

***

Andrea wasn’t in the mood to work late today.
She drove to a small home-furnishings store to get a few things for
her apartment.

“Charlene always says shopping is the best
medicine,” Andrea said out loud. “Let’s see if she’s right.”

Her mind was on Jamal Turner. The man pulled
more surprises from his sleeve than a magician. Once again she
wondered at the change in his demeanor lately. He had something on
his mind, some problem that he would not share. Andrea suspected
that it involved her. If not for the passion in his eyes when he
looked at her, she might think he was about to leave. The thought
of living without him filled her with dread. He constantly seemed
to pull away, then come back to her, as if he were trying to work
up the nerve to break things off completely. Andrea tried to
imagine never making love to him again. She certainly could live
without him. Yet she knew that it would take a long time for the
aching hunger for him to go away.

A billboard caught her eye as she sat at a
traffic light. It read GULFCO—WORKING FOR A BETTER FUTURE IN
LAFOURCHE PARISH. The Mandeville family’s corporate empire. Its
main office was here. She tapped her fingers on the wheel and drove
on when the light turned green.

In the store, Andrea browsed through a
selection of framed prints and decorations, but her mind was
else-where.

“Do you have a phone book?” she asked the
salesclerk.

“Sure. What are you looking for?” The short
blonde wore a smile that said she wanted to help.

“Gulfco.” Andrea walked to the glass display
case that doubled as a checkout station.

The clerk put the book on the counter. “I can
give you directions if you want. Houma is so small you’d have to
try real hard to get lost.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Andrea wrote on a notepad in her day planner
as the woman talked. Minutes later Andrea drove toward Gulfco. She
told herself it was just to get a look at the place. For some
reason, she wanted to see where Mandeville did business. The clerk
had been right. In ten minutes she was in front of the six-story
gray brick building. Andrea parked in one of the two parking
lots.

“Now what?” she asked herself.

Andrea knew the answer immediately. She would
go inside. It was unlikely that John Mandeville would appear in the
lobby. He probably had a private entrance like the typical
corporate CEO. Still, she was nervous as she got out of the car.
She took her time walking toward the entrance, ready to duck if she
even thought she saw him. When she got to the double glass doors,
Andrea took a deep breath and opened the door. The lobby was quiet,
with one security guard on duty. It was decorated in soft blue,
gray, and beige, with tall plants in huge pots arranged around it.
There was a snack shop with several small tables and chairs. Andrea
stared at the building directory. Gulfco occupied most of the
offices. There were two law firms, an insurance company, and a
doctor’s office in other suites.

“Need some help, ma’am?” the tall, husky
guard called out.

“No, thank you,” Andrea said. “I found what I
was looking for.”

The man smiled and nodded. He continued to
scan the parking lot. The smell of hot bread made her stomach
rumble. She’d only had a small salad of wilted lettuce for lunch.
Andrea followed the aroma to the counter.

An older black woman in a white apron
appeared from behind a rack of potato chips. “Whatcha need,
boo?”

“Just looking.” Andrea stared at the list of
menu se-lections on a wall behind the counter.

‘Take your time, bay,” the woman said in a
Creole accent. ‘Tell you what, got some real good fried shrimp
po’boys.”

“Sounds tasty.” Andrea’s mouth watered at the
prospect. “But I try not to eat too much fattening stuff.”

The woman gave Andrea a head-to-toe glance.
“Pooh on that, bay. You got a good figure. One little po’boy ain’t
gone hurt.”

Andrea pursed her lips. “Let me think about
it some more.”

“I’ll be here,” the woman called out with
good humor. She smiled as though confident of another po’boy sale
soon.

Andrea started to walk away from temptation
when she stopped short. “What the—”

She watched Jamal enter the lobby. He smiled
at the guard as though they knew each other.

“Hey, there. On your way to see the big man,
huh?” the guard said.

Jamal strolled over to where he stood. “Yep.
How’ve you been, Bert?”

“Real good for an old man.”

“C’mon. You’re still young and full of
spark,” Jamal said.

“Humph, being a cop for twenty years ages a
man.” Andrea’s mind raced. She stood inside the snack shop close
enough to catch odd snatches of their conversation. The two men
continued to exchange small talk, most of which she couldn’t hear.
Jamal was here to see the “big man.” John Mandeville was a big man
around here. But that made no sense. She could not imagine why
Jamal would go to see him.

“I got here early, but I better get going,”
Jamal joked. “Yeah, don’t want to keep John the Great waiting,”
Bert laughed. “See ya later.”

“See ya later, man. Take it easy.”

Andrea peeked around the comer of wall that
hid her from view. She jumped back when Jamal walked past. Her
heart beat triple time. Any second she expected him to turn and
confront her.

“You all right, bay?” the counter woman asked
with a frown.

Andrea was afraid Jamal would hear her if she
spoke. She nodded and plastered a smile on her face. The woman
shrugged and went back to sweeping the floor. Andrea risked looking
out again in time to see him disappear into the elevator. She
waited a few seconds, and then went to the guard. He stood behind a
high desk and made notations in a journal.

“Excuse me,” she said.

The guard looked at her and smiled. “Yes,
ma’am.”

“I have an interview with someone in Gulfco.
She said that I should go to their executive suite. Is that Mr.
Mandeville’s office?”

“Sure is, on the sixth floor. In fact, they
own the building. Just lease the other office space.”

“Oh, I see.” Andrea stared at the directory
again.

“Well, good luck. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
Bert grinned at her, then went back to his task.

“Thanks.”

Andrea walked to the elevator. She pressed
the button and waited, her mind blank. A group of chattering people
got off and she boarded the elevator. The ride up seemed to take
forever, but when the elevator stopped, she was afraid. She stood
still, unsure if she had the nerve to get off.