Sunrise in a Garden of Love & Evil (13 page)

"Judging by his size, his hair, and his clothes, it's the guy who was manning the photo shop when I dropped off the film this morning. The only thing I couldn't check was whether he had a tongue ring. It was hard to tell whether he even had a tongue."

"Fuck," Gideon said.

"That's what he suggested," Ophelia said. "He was a bit of a slime, and he might have been the blackmailer, but I don't suppose he deserves to be dead, and for sure not like that." She sliced off a strip of bloody meat and fed it to Gretchen. "On the other hand, I would cheerfully gut the bastard who put him in my truck and killed one of my new trees and damaged another."

Gideon said, "I wish I could deal with it my own way, but this is a murder. A bloody, brutal murder. I need you to put the rest of that animal down and come look at your truck again. I know it will be unpleasant, but--"

"I can handle it," Ophelia said in a tight voice. "If I put the nutria down, Gretchen will eat the rest. It's my supper."

"You eat nutria?" Gideon's expression said it all.

"Sorry. Yes." Ophelia licked her fingers, one by one.
You want the truth, well, here it is.

"Whatever floats your boat." A laugh crept into his voice. "Let me get you a bag for it. Come on." He led the way to his Mercedes, and she picked up the shotgun and followed. He held open an empty Wal-Mart bag for her to put the nutria in. She licked off the knife and returned it to her pocket.

"Put the nutria in the trunk," Gideon said. "The shotgun, too."

"Why?"

"Because you shouldn't be shooting nutria here. This is a public park."

"You know perfectly well I was carrying it for protection," Ophelia retorted. "And I did not shoot the nutria." But she supposed it wasn't the right moment to make a fuss, so she laid the gun in the trunk. "Damn it," she added, back at her truck. "Those maple trees cost me eighty bucks apiece. I can't sell damaged trees!"

"Forget the trees for the moment," Gideon said. "Look over the whole truck bed and tell me if you see anything that doesn't belong to you."

"Besides the body?"

"Of course, besides the body."

"I can't forget the trees," Ophelia said. "That's money wasted, money I don't have." She surveyed the bed. "The tools are mine. The cypress mulch and pine straw are mine. The empty pots and flats are mine. Those bits of foam rubber sticking to his clothes are not mine. The dirt and debris in the bottom is, unless some of it was on his body before it got dumped here. The goddamn broken trees--"

"When was the last time you saw the truck bed without the body in it?"

"At the nursery where I bought the healthy, uninjured trees," Ophelia said. "I drove straight here, but I didn't look in the back when I arrived. However, I think if someone had dropped a body from on high, I would have noticed the thump."

"Let's hope so. Nothing that's not yours, then?"

"Not as far as I can tell unless I take everything out of the truck, but it's getting dark and I have to go home and do an estimate."

Gideon put an arm around her shoulders and steered her away from the pickup. "I'll take you home. We'll have to keep the truck for now."

"What?" Her rage was enough to turn every head of the crime-scene crew, as if they hadn't been turned already. Well, except maybe the one woman on the team, but even she was gawking now. "Gideon, I need my truck! This is my livelihood you're talking about, not to mention two trees I need to plant tomorrow. You can't just take it away!"

"I'm sorry," Gideon said, "but the bed of your truck is evidence. We'll process it as quickly as we can. And we'd better get moving"--he raised his voice--"because it's getting dark and it's about to rain."

"For fuck's sake, Gideon--"

"For fuck's sake, Ophelia, I have no option here! Give me your key. I said I'll take you home."

"Thank you very much," she replied, her voice quavering. "But I don't want you anywhere near my home." She stormed toward his car. "Give me my gun and my nutria. Do I get to take my notes out of the front seat of the truck, or are you confiscating those, too?"

"The whole truck. I'll bring you what I can in the morning." He made no move to open his trunk. "In the meantime, I need your truck key."

"In the meantime you can fuck off. Give me my shotgun. I'll walk home."

"I haven't finished questioning you," Gideon said.

"You...you..." She couldn't find words. "Questioning me? You know perfectly well I didn't have anything to do with this. That's the most blatant excuse for harassment I've ever seen!"

"Ophelia, I don't want to bring you to the station. I'd much rather go eat with you somewhere pleasant where we can have a discussion instead of an interrogation."

"That's bullshit and you know it. You have no right to take me to the station. You have no probable cause--"

"A body in your truck and your lack of cooperation give me plenty of probable cause."

She gaped at him, dizzy with the shock. "You--you actually suspect me of killing him?"

"Of course not, Ophelia, but this is a murder and I have to follow procedure. Either way, you leave this scene without your truck and with me."

"You bastard!"

"If you say so."

Ophelia stamped her foot and glared at the gravel, fighting the fangs, her breath coming way too fast. "You leave me no choice."

"I'm glad you recognize that." Gideon unlocked the Mercedes and opened the passenger door. For the third time, he asked for her key.

She separated the truck key from her ring and, letting her breath out in a long, slow hiss, controlled the urge to throw it across the parking lot into the gathering dusk. She dropped it into his hand.

"Thank you," Gideon said. "Get in. I won't be long. Gretchen!" He whistled, and the dog hopped into the backseat. He handed Ophelia his own keys. "Turn on the radio if you like. There are CDs in the holder, too."

He shut the door, and once again, unaccustomed tears filled Ophelia's eyes. She swallowed them and turned in her seat to dig her fingers into Gretchen's fur. The dog snuffled and licked the tears off her cheeks. Ophelia blew her nose on her T-shirt and sank back into the soft leather upholstery. She took a deep breath. And another. And one more.

Maybe it was the removal of all options for control over anything but herself, maybe it was the comforting male scent of Gideon's car, maybe it was because it was Gideon's scent and Gideon's car and no one else's, but when finally he got into the driver's seat, Ophelia was fast asleep.

She clawed up out the depths of despair with a long, eerie whine that made the hair stand up on both Gideon and his dog. "Oh God, no--I didn't, no please, no please!" she cried, the words tumbling one over another in a harsh, anguished voice. She sat up, her eyes flashed open, and her face and body twisted and arched toward Gideon in a wide-mouthed roar of terror.

"Ophelia, wake up!" Gideon rotated the steering wheel and grabbed at her flailing arms. Gretchen launched into a fury of barking and flung herself at the gap between the seats. The seat belt slammed Ophelia back into the seat just before she tore someone, anyone, to bits.

"Oh God oh God oh God what happened what did I do what did I say?" Her hands flew to her face. What with the rain and the glare from the headlights and trying to watch the road, surely he hadn't seen!

"You had a bad dream," Gideon said slowly, pushing his dog out of the way as the car lurched to the side of the road.

Think!
"It wasn't a dream, it was a night terror." Her heart beat frantically. She had almost killed him. If not for the seat belt..."It's not about anything, or--or at least I never remember anything. I just wake up completely psyched out. What did...what did I say? What did I do?"

Gideon told her. Her chest heaved and her heart battered against her ribs, but she hadn't said anything that mattered.

"Does this happen often?" he asked.

"It depends." She huddled in her seat, half-turned away. "Usually it means I'm...oh, emotionally overwrought. I never know when to expect it, but it's not that big a deal."

Gideon got the car back on the road. "Where do you want to eat?"

Somewhere safe. "Tony's," Ophelia said.

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

Tony hadn't looked like a wuss in only boxers and a pink scarf. Now, in jeans and a black tee that emphasized his heavily muscled arms, he was formidable. He left a gaunt, black-draped woman at the bar and boomed, "Ophelia!" He wrapped a strong arm around her and, with only a fl ick of the chin to acknowledge Gideon, led them to the private patio off the kitchen where Gideon and Constantine had dined the night before.

"What's going on?" Tony kicked the door shut, holding Ophelia way too close for Gideon's taste, a tender smile on his battered, ex-bruiser's face.

Ophelia laid her curls on Tony's broad chest. "It stinks. This is Gideon O'Toole. He's a cop and I'm sort of under arrest."

Tony bellowed a curse, let Ophelia go, and rounded on Gideon, who stood his ground.

"She's not anywhere near under arrest, and she knows it." Gideon's eyes left Tony's alarmed scowl to settle on the exasperating girl he at times liked far too much for his peace of mind. Other times, like now..."Grow up, Ophelia."

Tony glanced from Ophelia's furious face to Gideon's impassive one. The door opened and the woman in black came through, nostrils flared, a sinister hiss issuing from scarlet lips.

"Beat it, Sonya," Tony said. "I'll get back to you."

"Tony," Sonya said, "I
need
you." The hiss morphed to a pitiful whine. "I need you now."

Tony shoved her out and slammed the door in her face. "What's this all about?"

"He forced me to come here," Ophelia said. "He said the alternative was going to the station to be interrogated."

"Here was a better choice." Tony tossed a menu in front of Gideon and fixed the scowl back on him. "You ate here with Constantine last night. Then you showed up with him at Vi's." When Gideon nodded, Tony added, "Order something. Drink?"

Gideon ordered a pesto pizza and a beer.

"Aren't you on duty?" Ophelia mocked.

"You're driving me to drink," Gideon replied.

Tony laughed and said, "Your usual, baby?" and left to place their orders.

Ophelia perched on the edge of a chair and looked at her hands, and Gideon slouched on the other side of the table, watching. He couldn't ask her about what he thought he'd seen--which was impossible. It was dark. It was a trick of the light from the dash. She had him so fucked up he was imagining things.

"Stop staring at me," Ophelia said pettishly. "You're giving me the creeps."

And what was she giving him? Something between the creeps and a hard-on. "I'll get Gretchen." When he returned, Tony had brought a Coke for Ophelia and a beer.

The ex-bruiser turned a chair away from the table and straddled it, hands on his knees. "Shoot."

Gideon looked at Ophelia. She hunched a shoulder. In clear, precise language, Gideon explained about the corpse and his reasons for questioning Ophelia and confiscating the truck.

"Someone sure has it in for you, baby," Tony said finally.

Ophelia, who had sucked down an entire sixteen ounces of Coke during Gideon's brief explanation, was wide, wild awake. "Couldn't it be a coincidence?"

"No," said Tony and Gideon in unison.

Ophelia pushed her empty glass away. "Why not? Someone desperately needed to get rid of the body, saw a truck parked in a secluded and otherwise-empty lot, and dumped it."

"If you were an ordinary person, maybe."

Gideon saw her stiffen. Damn. Smoothly, he added, "If nothing else was going on, maybe. But we already know someone has it in for you."

"The dead-cat thing." Tony flapped a hand when Ophelia bristled. "Yeah, Vi told me about it. You should have told Leopard when it happened."

Ophelia crossed her arms and glowered.

"Even if the guy saw the truck by accident," Gideon continued, "he knew it was yours. There are magnetic signs on both sides."

"Why dump a body in your truck, though?" Tony asked. "It makes no sense. If he was pissed off 'cause you turned him down..." He shook his head. "Anyone who would beat some poor bastard to death like that would just as likely rape and then kill you."

"He could
try
," said Ophelia darkly. "Maybe it was a woman."

Obligingly, Gideon asked, "Can you think of any woman whose guy has the hots for you?"

Ophelia shook her head. "There have been plenty, as I'm sure you realized last night, but not so many lately. It was a lot worse when I worked at the club. I've been keeping to myself." The look she gave Gideon said it was his fault she wasn't still doing so.

He took a swig of beer, but his eyes never left her face. "How about business competition?"

"My business is too small to threaten anyone. Not only that, half the work I do is for Constantine. He wouldn't hire someone who harassed me out of business. Which reminds me." She opened her cell phone and dialed. "Constantine, can you loan me a truck for a few days? Gideon confiscated mine because someone dumped a body in it."

At the other end they heard Constantine's voice and then his laughter.

"I'm at Tony's. Thanks." Ophelia slapped the phone shut. "I have my own ride home."

"Good," Gideon said. "That lets me off the hook."

Tony looked between them and chuckled. "Young love. What fun." He twisted the ends of his mustache, and a moan came from the other side of the door. He opened the door, stuck out a hand to stop Sonya, spoke a few low, terrifying words, and slammed it shut again. "Women. Enough to drive you nuts."

Amen,
thought Gideon. "Then there's the child-abuse thing."

Ophelia paled. "I don't know where Willy got that idea! I never touched those girls!"

This really bothers her, realized Gideon. Like the bitch last night did. Like the blood and gore today didn't.

"Of course not." Tony straddled the chair again and reached across to caress Ophelia's cheek. "We all know that."

Ophelia threw him a grateful look and clipped her cell phone on her belt. "You talked to Willy last night, didn't you?" she demanded of Gideon. "What did he tell you?"

Gideon tried to look compassionate and reassuring. And deprecating. Fat chance. "Willy said the dirty photos of Joanna came back with other pictures you dropped at the shop for Lisa. He said you accidentally mixed up your stuff with theirs. The guy at the photo shop saw them, and now Willy's being blackmailed, too." Gideon spread his hands. "Willy's an idiot, but when we add it all up, you're right in the middle of this mess."

"I did not take those pictures!" Ophelia flamed.

"Of course not," Tony said again.

Gideon said, "The question is, who did?"

"Joanna must know," Ophelia said.

Gideon sighed. "When I spoke to her yesterday, she didn't want me to talk to her parents or try to get you to talk with them."

Ophelia glared. "When was this?"

"When I went to pick up the plaster cast, Joanna and Connie were there. Mrs. Wyler had sent them to get it."

Ophelia muttered something sarcastic.

"Joanna went on and on about her boobs and wanted to know when she would be old enough to have sex."

Ophelia shifted from annoyance to concern. "She's scared to talk to her parents, so she dumps on anyone who's nice to her. With the dirty pictures, I guess it was easier to let me take the blame." She bit her lip. "Unless Willy's into his own kids and is mad at me for telling her she's too young? I don't believe it! I'm not crazy about Willy, but he dotes on those girls."

"I don't think it was Willy," Gideon said.

"Must have been a boyfriend took the pictures," Tony said. "How old is this girl?"

"Thirteen," Ophelia replied.

Tony spat.

"I know."

"Too much doesn't make sense," Gideon said. "Why did whoever took the pictures drop them at a public photo shop? How could he not know they amounted to child pornography? Is he being blackmailed, too? How did the blackmailer know whose kids were in the pictures? Come to think of it, who took the nude pictures of my sister? Assuming he turned them in to be developed at the shop, how did the blackmailer recognize Art?"

Nobody had an answer, so Gideon went on. "There are plenty of avenues to explore, but you're in the spotlight, Ophelia, especially since you handed in that film this morning. He could have developed the film, contacted you immediately, and you could have freaked out and murdered him. In order to keep you off the suspect list, I need to know all about your day. What you did, who you were with, the whole bit."

"All right. After I pee." She shot him an I-dare-you-to stop-me look and went inside the restaurant.

Immediately, Tony loomed close. "Do you have any idea what will happen if you put Ophelia in jail?"

"She's not going to jail," Gideon said.

"I mean it, kid." Tony got right up in his face. "Do you have any idea?"

Under the table, Gretchen growled.

"I'll tell you, kid. Since there's no lockup in Bayou Gavotte, she'll go to the parish jail. She's not your average girl. No matter how disciplined the guards usually are, I guarantee you that one at least, maybe more, will find her so irresistible they'll get her alone somewhere and--"

Gideon stood slowly and spoke through his teeth. "I said she's not going to jail." He eased back slightly and hushed his dog. "I'm doing my best to keep her safe. If you could convince her to cooperate with me, it would be a hell of a lot easier."

Tony relaxed a bit. "You're the cop who let Constantine go. He says you're okay."

"I didn't let him go. I never arrested him. There was no evidence against him."

Tony waved a hand. "Ophelia's bitching at you because she's scared. She has to be sure she's safe with you, and there's only one way to--"

An unearthly howl came from the kitchen. Tony plunged through the door, and Gideon followed across the kitchen and into the back hall. The woman in black lay sprawled in the doorway to the ladies' room, bleeding sluggishly from a wound on her arm.

From inside the restroom came the sound of Ophelia spitting. Her voice followed. "She attacked me. So I bit her." She spat again, emerged, and threw a pile of paper towels at Sonya. "Staunch it, you stupid woman. Tony's not interested in me." She went back into the restroom.

"Christ, Ophelia. What got into you?" Tony called.

"Sorry. I'm a little overwrought." More spitting. "She tastes disgusting."

"To you, maybe. Not to me." Tony swept Sonya off the floor. "Your food's ready," he told Gideon. "Go eat." He carried the weeping woman into an office at the rear of the store.

Gideon returned outside, schooling his face to hide the progressively more bizarre thoughts he was having. Ophelia came back looking even more uneasy than when she left--which made two of them. The humor struck him, and he grinned at her and felt better.

"Your sandwich is far more edible than Sonya. Dig in," he said, slicing up his pizza. "Honey, this'll be easier all around if you stop viewing me as a threat. I'm no danger to you, cross my heart."

"All right," Ophelia replied, not in the least reassured, judging by her demeanor, but she went to work on a sandwich filled with bloody lamb and beef and answered his questions between feeding Gretchen and herself. Alibi-wise, she did pretty well: she'd spent an hour gossiping with old Mrs. Cotter while she planted azaleas in Andrea Dukas's garden, then lunched at the Impractical Cat after planting lantana on the patio there. In the afternoon she'd done a couple of estimates and finished at the Dukas place, where she'd spoken briefly with Mrs. Cotter about spring planting. Then on to the nursery, where the saleswoman and an admirer named Bob would vouch for her. She'd even waved to a fisherman across the river before returning to her vehicle.

On his third piece of pizza, Gideon said, "What do you want me to get from the truck?"

"The clipboard with my notes on it. I can't do the estimate without my notes. My work boots would come in handy. And my pocketbook. I have no wallet, no checkbook, no driver's license..." She eyed him defiantly. "Don't you dare say I can't drive because of that."

"Of course not," Gideon said.

Constantine appeared outside the fence surrounding the patio, with Artemisia clinging to his hand. Gideon cursed under his breath, and the rocker flicked open the gate and pulled her inside. "Art didn't want to come say hi to her disapproving big brother, but you've got other things on your mind, don't you, sport?"

"Sure have, Dufray." Gideon rose. "Murder tends to take center stage." He smiled at his sister--a damn good smile, considering whom she was with.

Art's mouth twitched nervously. "Ophelia, are you okay? Constantine told me about the body in your truck."

Ophelia shrugged. "I'll survive."

Gideon said, "Art, baby, were you at school all day today?"

"Of course."

"No quick trips out at lunch or in your planning period?"

"No, I even stayed late for a staff meeting. Why?"