Where The Devil Won't Go: A Lucas Peyroux Novel (17 page)

Chapter 26

Noon hour approached as we came
out of the house where the kidnapper had taken Cozy just months ago. Every
piece of rotting furniture looked clear in the daylight. CSU had just put Titus
in a body bag, telling us he had died from a stab wound to the heart several
days ago. His killer had perfect aim. The place was still otherwise undisturbed
from when it was cleaned by the
hazmat
crew.

I leaned against the car’s
fender with Tara at my side, thinking aloud, “Remember Cozy’s puffy red cheek? What
if Titus went looking for Haley and found Cozy? Cozy wanted to ask him
questions, and Titus had other plans. Things got out of hand and he didn’t
realize she carried a switchblade. And if Titus had a gun, then Cozy now has a
gun.”

“This makes her someone to look at for
the Vincent Dean murder.”

“I don’t know. Vince was found in the
spot he was shot and Sal’s heart attack makes sense. It was his gun. She would
have had to stage the scene perfectly. I don’t see Jerry disproving the obvious
theory. At the very most, she was present at the time.”

We stared at each other as the sun
intensified, each going through our process of deduction when my cell rang.
“Yeah, Cap.”

“The troopers said Cozy’s not at her home
in Manchac. Hadn’t returned since she left with you, according to the mother.
Plus, traces of blood were found in Porter’s trunk. Most likely Titus.”

“So, he at least disposed of the body. Thanks,
Cap. I noticed you called me instead of Gray.” I glanced at my partner.

“She said you’re doing fine.”

“She’s such a liar. We’ll be in shortly.”
I hung up.

“Too bad we can’t grill Corondelet about
Harry Winslow,” Tara said.

“We can grill Corondelet about Dean,
Haley and Titus. That’s not off limits, right? We’ll do that later tonight at
the club when we can talk to the whole staff. Plus, we can make him more
uncomfortable at his work. For now, let’s go back to Manchac and put a little
more pressure on Aponi Robicheaux.”

“Let’s do it.” Tara patted my shoulder
before getting in the car. “You think old Harry Winslow, Esquire could be a
patron of Molly’s Girls? Could that be the Haley-Winslow-caviar connection?”

“I’d say that’s a definite.”

“So, Harry or another employee of Winning
One or someone at Molly’s killed her after a party?”

I started the engine. “Still a good
theory. Winslow has a political party with Molly Girl strippers walking around.”
I adjusted the air conditioning. “Either way, I’m willing to bet Raymond
Corondelet is in bed with Winslow.”

Tara laughed. “All this from a Jane Doe
in the river. So, we go to Manchac?”

“Yee-haw.”

#

The drive to Manchac just before rush
hour took a bit longer than the first time. It allowed me to think of how much
I’ve become involved in the Robicheaux’s lives and how I’ve extracted myself
from my own family’s lives. Too many cops fall into that hole and it won’t be
me.

The house appeared sturdier on the second
visit, like it had withstood many hurricanes. No movement registered through
the window, so I knocked loudly on the screen door.

“Hello? Aponi?”

Tara’s attention focused on the road and
nearby Cypress Trees for surprises. I couldn’t blame her. When the locals get
wind that the law was after one of their own, they could get ornery.

I rapped my knuckles on the wood again,
this time hearing something stir inside. A moment later, Ashton from the picture
answered. The side of his face was red with a small cut as if he had been
punched. “Hello?”

“I’m Detective Peyroux.”

“Ashton.”

“Is Ms. Robicheaux here?”

I noticed he was barefoot when he moved
aside to let us in. His clothes hung from his frame like hand-me-downs. “You’re
the one who took Cozy to New Orleans.”

I nodded.

“And now she’s missing,” he accused.

“Have you talked to her recently?”

“Hell, no.” He charged forward toward the
kitchen like the man of the house, speaking over his shoulder. “I actually just
got back from looking for her in the Quarter. Of course, I didn’t find her.”

“There’s a difference between being
missing and not wanting to be found.”

Aponi came from the hallway as if she had
just awoken, but not surprised to see us. “Detective Peyroux, perhaps you can
explain why the state troopers were looking for Cozy. They certainly wouldn’t
say.”

“No one knows where she is. You’re not
concerned?”

“She called me. Told me she was taking
care of Haley’s paperwork, so I assumed the police would know where she is.”

“Haley’s body hasn’t been released yet,
Aponi.” Tara told her.

Aponi gave Ashton a glance. “She’s
staying in the Quarter to punish me.”

Tara stressed her voice. “She’s in
trouble… Serious trouble.”

“Let’s have some tea.” She turned before
anyone could argue. Ashton, Tara and I sat at the kitchen table. Aponi seemed
to need to keep her hands busy, a coping mechanism I’d guess.

She took a pitcher out of the
refrigerator. “I’ve never been able to control her. She always sought out
danger, that one.”

“I’m going back to try to find her again
tomorrow,” Ash confirmed.

“How many times did you visit Haley at
her apartment?” I asked.

Ashton’s eyes grew. “None. What do you mean?”

“We interviewed the landlord after
discovering Haley’s body. He placed you there,” I sounded convincing, knowing
that Porter never actually said Ashton’s name.

He blew air out his lips. “He’s wrong. He
might’ve described someone that looked like me. If I knew where she was, I
would have brought her home… Or at least let Cozy and Ms. Aponi know she was
safe.”

“Sure. I can buy that. What about you,
Tara?”

“Sure.” She shrugged.

Aponi placed two glasses of tea down on
top of scuffed plastic Dixie Beer coasters. “You said Cozy was in trouble. What
kind of trouble?”

Tara answered. “She might be involved in
the murder of a local drug dealer.”

“You must be mistaken,” Aponi shot back.
“But, who ever killed him, I’m sure he deserved it.”

Ashton chuckled, his pimples glowing.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“You ever see her dismantle an alligator?
Or shoot the eye out of
a nutria
from a hundred yards?
You don’t mess with Cozy where Haley’s concerned.”

“She even saved Haley from her father,” I
added.

The blood left Aponi’s face as she stood
and wiped down a spotless counter. “Ashton’s opinion is a bit biased. What
proof do you have of this murder?”

“We can’t go into the specifics, but
we’re just looking to question her for now.”

“Well, I know this will all be cleared up
as soon as we find her.”

I inspected my glass of tea as I slowly
spun it in a circle. “Aponi, I know what happened with their father and the
stress that abuse must have created.”

“Girls tend to exaggerate… Not remember things
properly.”

“Nevertheless, what Cozy believes is
what’s important at the moment, true or not. Does Cozy have any psychological
disorders? Schizophrenia? Bi-polar? Rage issues?”

Again, the two of them glanced at each
other. Aponi said, “No, but Dr. Clair, her therapist, thought she needed more
therapy past what the court mandated.”

“What’s Dr. Clair’s full name?” Tara
asked, taking out a notepad.

“Dr. Clair Shipman. She’s got an office
in Kenner,” Ashton offered. “I took her a few times.”

Aponi’s eyes smiled at him. “Ashton’s
been so good to both my daughters.”

“Both? How so?” I knew, but I asked anyway.

Ashton spoke softly. “I was Hale’s
boyfriend for a while.”

I took a long drink from the delicious glass
of tea, thinking Ashton could have information we need. “Would you say you
loved both of them?”

Ashton shifted on his feet. “Love? I
think I loved Haley. I might’ve been falling in love with Cozy. I think I’m too
young to know for sure.”

Aponi grabbed my tea to refill it. She spoke
toward the ceiling, “You think she killed this drug dealer because he killed
Haley?”

“It’s possible. My guess is, she was
attacked and it was self-defense. The most she’d get is tampering with a crime
scene.”

Ashton said, “Would it be that big a deal
if she keeps killing scumbags until she finds the guy?”

“You think it’s no big deal to kill
someone.”

“If they’re scum.” His lip curled like
Elvis Presley.

“You want her to possibly kill an
innocent man?” I asked and looked to Aponi.

Aponi moved to the seat next to me,
leaning in close to my face. “Detective, my husband is dead. My oldest daughter
ran away and was killed. If my youngest daughter leaves me, I’m going to be all
alone.” Her wrinkles grew to show her age, yet her eyes were that of a
twenty-year-old.

“It seems you have Ashton.”

She paused. “Not that it’s any of your
business, but Ashton’s Daddy, Paul Bergeron, is sweet on me and also comes over
often. Our families are close.”

“How often does Ashton come by when
you’re home alone?”

“What are you trying to say?” Ashton’s
voice rose. “I don’t care if you are a cop, I’ll bust your nose.”

Aponi and I shared a look where the
meaning was understood. Her shoulders slumped and her head dipped, before
establishing her posture again. “Nothing is going on, Detective. What kind of
lady would that make me?”

“Lonely… Desperate.”

Aponi slapped my face, but I had been
building to that. I needed her to open up, to expose herself, and my seeming like
a total dick was a small price to pay. My eyes returned to hers, which never
wavered, piercing like a tribal warrior’s.

Ashton stood rigidly. “I don’t have to
listen to this shit.” He left the kitchen through the back door, slamming the
screen against the wood frame.

She scolded me. “That boy’s been like a
son to me, a man around the house for me, fixin’ things and whatnot. That’s
what we do for each other out here. I wouldn’t expect someone from that toilet
of a city to understand.” She pointed to the window behind the ragged curtains
as if she could see New Orleans from here.

“I apologize for Detective Peyroux,” Tara
said. “He’s used to dealing with thugs and witnesses who keep their mouths
shut. It’s frustrating.”

I blinked in agreement. “Sorry if I was
harsh. Maybe you should go talk to him. We’ll let ourselves out.”

“I don’t want you back here. Send someone
else if there’s news.”

She met Ashton out on the pier who burst
into an indecipherable rant. I picked up my napkin and placed it around
Ashton’s glass, a nice gift for Dr. Jerry to process.

Chapter 27

They planned to meet at a Daiquiri shop
on Bourbon Street because Cozy wanted to try the famous frozen creation. Tabby
people-watched at a small table with a large white cup and straw, not noticing
her newest squire glide in. Cozy purchased a Jungle Juice in a small Styrofoam
cup without an I.D. from the apathetic bartender. She pretended to search for a
table before getting close enough to face her boss. She took off her glasses
and Tabitha did a
double-take
.

“Keri? What in the world did you do to
yourself?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“It’s so short and auburn. Look at those
highlights. Makes you look five years older.”

She sat down. “You like?”

“It’s stunning, like an after picture.
Plus, with that hair, it’ll be easier to wear those wigs.”

“That kind of leads us to why we’re
here.”

“Shoot.” Tabby wrapped her cherry-red
lips around her straw.

“I can assume you haven’t heard.”

“Heard what?”

“I saw a news report this morning. That
bouncer you warned me about – Vince? He was murdered early this morning.”

“What?” Tabitha’s mouth hung open. “Ray
didn’t call me.”

“Maybe he hasn’t heard, either. I don’t
know the details, but he was shot in some old guy’s house in the Quarter.”

She dug in her clutch for her phone. “I
have to call Ray.”

“Wait a second. Me and Vince were
together last night.”

“Keri, you
didn’t…?”

“Sex?
No, God, no.
But, he was alive when I left him.”

“After I warned you?”

“He followed me to the Moon Walk. I had
no idea. We ended up talking a while. That was it.”

“Were you involved in this shooting?”

“I left him on Decatur Street with an
empty bottle of Jack. But the cops are sure to come sniffing around Molly’s. I
can’t be there for that.”

“If you didn’t kill him, you’ll be fine.”

“In what world? People saw us together.
The police will put together that I’m dancer where he worked. Tabby, I can’t
talk to any cops.”

She closed her eyes. “So, what kind of
trouble are you in?”

“No warrant for my arrest, if that’s what
you’re wondering.”

“We have no paperwork on you, so that’s
good. You’re not the first dancer to be skittish of the cops.”

“So, I can maybe skip tonight?”

“No. Ray wants to talk to you. I’ll call
you when it’s safe. You have a cell?”

“I do, but no one else has my number.”

“You have a phone and no one has the
number? You are truly alone, aren’t you?”

Cozy reached out and put her hand over
Tabby’s. “Just keeping a low profile.”

“Give me the number.”

#

Whether or not my acquisition of the
glass with Aston’s prints would hold up in a court of law remained to be seen. I
entered it into evidence just before Dr. Jerry left for the day. He promised to
get the prints in the morning as he paved through his workload, but my breath I
would not hold. After dinner with my family where I made sure to stay engaged
with meaningful conversation, I left my house again to have my interview with
Raymond Corondelet.

Molly’s Girls had the typical cast of
patrons, including a mix of obvious tourists. Like most other places we
investigate with an alcohol license, Tara and I located the bartender first.
They tended to have a wealth of information, not to mention their own take on
things. The longhaired, blond German prototype stopped in front of us and
stared me down, smelling our badges.

“Two Cokes, please.”

He silently obliged and I left a five on
the bar, which probably didn’t cover it.

“I assume everyone here heard about
Vince?” I asked.

“Yep.
That old cop
shoot
him?”

“We’re still working the investigation.”
Tara said.

I added, “And I understand Haley
Robicheaux also worked here?”

“I don’t ever learn their real names. You
talking about the girl found in the river?”

We both nodded.

“That was Lacy Mastergator.”

Tara looked at me. “Mastergator?”

I spoke as if she was a child. “Like
masturbator…
Someone who masturbates.
I’ll use it in a
sentence…”

“I get it. Masta-gater. That’s a new
one.”

The bartender chuckled. “The audience
loved it. She’d come out in redneck costumes with a stuffed alligator.”

“What’s a redneck costume?” I asked.

He pushed the five back towards me.
“Overalls, Daisy Dukes, or shirts tied up in a knot under her tits. That kind
of stuff.”

“What do you think happened to her?”

He settled onto his elbows as he leaned
on the bar. “C’mon detectives; stripper, alcohol, drugs, money, sex… Any number
of things could have got her killed. I don’t get close with any of them, so I
wouldn’t know what she was into.”

“Fair enough. Is Raymond Corondelet
here?”

“Yep, in the back.”

We followed the bartender’s finger to a
little hallway in the rear corner, dodging a dancer whose body was barely
hanging on to its youth. The bouncer allowed us safe passage into a corridor
where I found an open door. The man inside stood as he waved us in.

“Detectives, I’m Raymond Corondelet, but
please call me Ray. We were expecting your visit. Have a seat.”

Other officers had told me that Molly’s
had a nice working relationship with the NOPD. Any place with a liquor license
had to in this city. My cop buddies gave no warning of any underhanded dealings
because a cop would do most anything not to be exposed. I noticed that one of
Ray’s many pictures on the wall was of him and my friend Mayor Chance Picaud,
smiling at some dinner function.

“Mr. Corondelet… Ray, I’m Detective
Peyroux and this is Detective Gray. Do you mind if we ask you and your
employees a few questions about Mr. Dean?”

“Of course not. Quite a few of my
customers are policemen. You should come by to enjoy some of the perks we offer
the boys and ladies in blue.”

“We’ll see.”

Tara stood. “How about I go talk to the
staff while you chat with Mr. Corondelet? We’ll cut our time in half so we can
get out of here.”

“Sounds good, the quicker the better,” I
said.

Ray watched her leave his office before
speaking to me. “Vince’s murder has shaken us all up. I actually just got off
the phone with his mother. I’m going to take care of the cremation costs.”

“That’s kind of you.”

“We liked Vince a lot. So, my staff and I
are totally at your disposal.”

“Can you give me your overall impression
of Mr. Dean?”

“Sure, but from what I understand
,
you know who killed him. That old man, right?”

“There are just some unanswered
questions. We need to understand what happened that night.”

“Vince was a great bouncer, good with the
customers and with the dancers. I heard he had some personal issues outside of
work, but he never brought them here.”

“Like what?”

“This is second-hand, mind you, and
please don’t repeat this to his poor, grieving mother, you know how Italian
moms are, but I heard he was abusive to his girlfriends.
Possessive,
too.
That’s what’s so strange about his murder; he wasn’t a burglar or
gay. Not that I know of.”

“Everyone has secrets, Ray. Speaking of
his girlfriends, do you remember his dating a Haley Robicheaux?”

He shifted slightly. “I feel I need to be
honest.”

“Please.”

“Haley Robicheaux came to work here on
contract a couple of years ago.”

I didn’t react. “Explain contract.”

He sighed. I couldn’t tell if this was
rehearsed or not. “Contract is kind of like an extended trial basis.”

“Off the books.”

“Yes. She was the type of girl that
brought in men and alcohol is where I make my money. What she made on stage is
what she kept. I didn’t pay her a dime. She gave me a cut for use of my
establishment and we kept it at that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not vice or the IRS.
We’re here to help each other.”

He nodded. “Vince was dating her for a while,
but they broke up a year ago.”

“Her death wasn’t a good enough reason to
contact the NOPD?”

“I’m ashamed I didn’t, but I didn’t want
to lose other girls through fear, or lose customers for that matter, with uniformed
police sniffing around. It was selfish and the poor girl deserved better. She
– Haley – had her own thing going on the side. From what I
understand, she was basically prostituting herself, and I was cutting back her
hours here. I was ready to let her go.”

“And then she was murdered and your
problem solved for you.”

He smiled and nodded before snapping his
index finger at me. “I understand how that technique would draw information
from reluctant witnesses, so I won’t hold that comment against you personally.
It means nothing to me to fire someone, so why would I resort to murder? Plus,
if my girls started thinking they’d be murdered, I’d be ruined.”

“And now Vince is murdered.”

“Yes.” His lids dropped.

“Do you know of anyone here who would
want both of them dead?”

“Like a girl that was seeing Vince and
was jealous of their past relationship?”

“Perfectly said.”

“No one I know of was dating Vince.
Tabitha tells all the girls not to date the bouncers.”

“Tabitha?”

He pointed to one of the pictures on the
wall. “Tabitha Wheelhouse, my manager. What about this retired policeman I saw
on the news? You don’t think he shot him?”

“There may have been a third party in the
house.”

“Well, that complicates things for you.”

“So, you know nothing of Vince’s personal
life.”

“Nothing.” He shook his head.

“Anything else you can think of about
Haley?”

“I’ll admit, when she first came to
Molly’s, she was one of my favorites, but this past year, I bowed out of her
affairs. Some of the other girls might be able to point out certain customers
that especially liked her, but other than that, I can’t help you.”

I held up a picture of Cozy. “Have you
ever seen Vince with this girl?”

He studied the picture. “Keri Sullivan.
She just started working here on a probationary period, but she doesn’t have
any ties to Vince that I know of. She’s not from New Orleans.”

“We have a witness that places them
together hours before his murder,” I lied. “Is Keri coming into work tonight?”

“She should be here now, actually.”

“Can you call her?”

“She doesn’t have a phone. I don’t even
know where she’s staying, but Tabitha might have that information. I figure
she’s in a motel somewhere. As soon as she’s set up in an apartment, I’ll have
her fill out the proper paperwork.”

“Naturally. I guess that’s about all for
now, but I do want to ask Ms. Wheelhouse about Keri before I leave.” I
retrieved the photo of Cozy, then motioned to the wall. “Tell me, how do you
and the mayor know each other?”

He smiled, glad I noticed. “That was
taken at LaPlace on Bourbon at its grand opening. Mayor Picaud didn’t realize I
was the owner of Molly’s Girls or he might not have taken that picture with me,
but I promised it was for my private use. Nice man. We talked for hours.”

I stood, handing him my card. “If Keri
doesn’t show by the time we finish questioning your staff, can you give me a
call when she does? Otherwise, I’ll try back tomorrow.”

“Of course. Good luck, detective.”

I almost expected to feel a hundred
folded up against my fingers after Ray reached out and shook my hand. Before I
exited his office, I turned. “By the way, what’s Keri’s stage name?”

“Spitfire. A real find, that one.”