Red Beans And Vice Part 16

Heaven moved away from the doorway so she wouldn't cast an accidental shadow and scooted to the other side of the opening, closer to the small bags. When she peeked in from the opposite edge of the door, it was just in time to see Will and Mary, arms around each other, enter the room through the locked door Heaven had tried earlier. It took a minute for the scene to sink in.

Two things stuck out. Although Will and Mary were normally affectionate with each other, it had seemed more like brother and sister affection. Not tonight. This didn't look like platonic friendship anymore to Heaven. Will's hand wandered all over Mary's body as he talked with la Pointe. At one point, he leaned into her and kissed her neck.

They were lovers, there was no doubt about it. Mary's face was a ma.s.s of contradictions. One moment she looked radiantly happy. The next minute she looked panic-stricken. But her eyes never left Will. Heaven didn't know if she'd just been blind to it all the time or if it was a recent development. Maybe they'd sought solace in each other after Truely died. Or maybe before.

The second thing that stuck out wasn't a puzzle like how long Mary and Will had been lovers. It was now obvious that the two of them were well aware of Truely's scheme, whatever it was, and had taken it on as their own.

What was the scheme? Heaven stepped nearer to the opening and poked her head a little farther into the room. Will had asked the workers to come over to where he and Mary were standing, and the women packing the little bags left their work as well. Will gave each person several hundred-dollar bills and shook hands with them in turn. A little voice in Heaven's head said Will looked too comfortable, too much in charge. Maybe this scheme wasn't Truely's after all.

Heaven turned her attention back to the little bags and squinted, trying to decipher what they said. The writing on the small packages they were putting in the burlap bags said pseudoephedrine. Heaven's mind was so full of new information that she drew a blank for a minute. Then she remembered. It was an ingredient for cold medicine-and for methamphetamine. They weren't manufacturing meth, they were just providing the key ingredient. Clever. It was like that operation that Murray had told her about over the phone, the one in Los Angeles.

Heaven look over at the happy couple and realized that Mary didn't have her cigarette girl costume on anymore. She was dressed in one of her lawyer suits, very businesslike. It was the last thing she noticed before the world went black.

When Heaven woke up she was being carried over someone's shoulder like a sack of coffee beans. Her vision was swimming for a minute as she tried to focus her eyes. Pain at the back of her head indicated the spot where she must have been hit. She tried to remain relaxed so her captor wouldn't know she had regained consciousness. But when she realized her hands were bound together at the wrists she instinctively stiffened and a strong hand reached over and steadied her mid-section. "Be still now," a voice said. Even though she'd talked to him only twice, Heaven was sure it was Durant la Pointe carrying her. She grabbed at his belt with her bound hands and yelled, "Help," as loud as she could.

Durant stopped walking and swung her down to the ground roughly. It was then she realized her feet were bound as well. This was not a good situation.

"We're around the bend from the plant. With all that music, no one can hear you, Missy. You can either settle down and be carried or I'll drag you on the ground by your feet. It don't make no difference to me."Durant spoke dispa.s.sionately, looking down at Heaven.

"I'll take being carried. What girl wouldn't?" Heaven said lightly, still trying to a.s.sess the situation. He hefted her back up on his shoulder and resumed walking. "So, did Will and Mary find out about your little scheme and you had to cut them in?"

Silence from Durant. She tried again.

"Do you by any chance have a pickup truck? Did you follow me and run me off the road? Shoot at me?"

"For all the good it did," Durant muttered. 'You still sticking your nose in things."

"Where are you taking me?"

"For a little dip."

Heaven couldn't believe it. Surely her friends didn't know what Durant was doing. She just couldn't believe they'd want her to be tossed in the Mississippi River.

"I hate the water," Heaven noted from her upside-down position.

"That's what Mary said," Durant said flatly.

"Where is Mary? I know if I could just talk to her we could work this out."

"They're gone."

"Gone, like left the party?"

"Gone for good," Durant said and reached over, pulled Heaven off his shoulder, and stood her up. She stumbled but regained her footing. She couldn't make a real step, but could hobble forward slightly. Durant turned her toward the river. They were on a concrete lookout perch up on a slight rise right by the river. There were no hills in New Orleans since the whole place was under sea level, but this artificial rise must have served some purpose for the Corps of Engineers, Heaven thought. The water must be fifteen feet below. Just the thought of being dropped in the dark toward the treacherous Mississippi made Heaven almost black out. She stumbled and fell down.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, borderline hysterical.

"It's my job," Durant said as he lifted Heaven up on a metal rail. With little effort he sent her over the side. Heaven fell in the darkness, frantically trying to free her hands as she hit the water. The river was warm and she could feel a current pulling at her legs. She tried kicking as best she could and her head broke the surface. She shrieked "help" once then realized she couldn't afford the energy that took. She tried to tell herself what her childhood swimming teacher had told her. "Use your lungs as a flotation device," he used to say. "Full lungs, float. Empty lungs, kick." Heaven filled her lungs and tried to get her bearings. She wasn't far from the rocky sh.o.r.e, but it might as well be the length of the English Channel as far as her ability to get there was concerned.

It was true that Heaven didn't like water, and she couldn't believe Mary remembered that. She must have been very vocal about it. She'd taken swimming lessons with all the other kids, but she never felt comfortable in the water. It scared her. If she ever got out of this river, she'd have to remember to not mention her fear anymore. Who knew when an old friend would use the knowledge to try to knock her off?

Heaven expelled her breath, kicking furiously and trying to scream. It was silent above and she thought Durant had left, unconcerned about watching her drown, confident the river would have her soon. She filled her lungs with air again and tried to calm down. In the meantime she was being drawn farther from sh.o.r.e.

All of a sudden, a strong blast of light shone down from the riverbank. "Yell for me once more," someone commanded.

"Here. Over here," Heaven yelled with all her might. "I'm throwing you a round preserver. Here it comes," the voice said. Heaven heard the splash but the preserver wasn't within her reach. She expelled air and quickly filled her lungs again. Full lungs, float, she said silently as a mantra. The flashlight or lantern played over the water and finally landed on the bright orange ring.

"I see it," Heaven yelled impulsively and felt herself being pulled under the water. She pulled her head up and tried frogging toward the life preserver. The light hit her again and she felt hope.

"Just go easy now, it's just a few feet," the voice said, playing the flashlight back and forth between Heaven and the preserver.

The life preserver was almost in her grasp, if she'd been able to grasp. And then she felt its slippery, rubbery surface and threw her arms on top of it, hooking herself around it as best she could with her hands tied together. "I got it," she yelled, triumphant.

"Hold on now. I'm going to pull you in."

Heaven was amazed how close she was to the river-bank. In just a minute she banged up against the rocks that were piled there. She couldn't let go of the life preserver and she heard a high-pitched wail that she thought was coming from her.

"Easy now. You're just fine. Take my hand," the voice said.

"No. Can't let go," she stammered. A strong arm grabbed her by the elbow and jerked her half out of the water.

"Help me here. Use your legs to help get you up on the bank," the voice commanded.

Heaven wiggled her knees into the rocks, feeling the sharpness. Pain shot through her legs as her knees were cut on the rocks. It felt so good she could hardly stand it. She was now two-thirds out of the water, still clutching the preserver.

The arm pulled her another few feet. Now her whole body was on the rocks but because of her bindings, she resembled a trussed chicken, unable to scramble up the bank. The flashlight beam caught her right in the face. She smiled what must have been a ghoulish smile.

"Let's untie your hands. Then you can help crawl up here. I don't want to get too far down there and fall in myself," the voice explained. The flashlight was placed on the ground and the man bent close to Heaven to untie her hands.

When Heaven saw who had pulled her out of the drink, she reacted so violently that she almost pitched herself back in the water. Her rescuer was the big man.

She fainted.

Beignets.

2 cups all-purpose flour.

2 T. baking powder 1 T. sugar 1 tsp. kosher salt.

1 cup plus a little milk.

2 T. canola oil 1 large egg.

canola oil for frying.

powdered sugar.

Although many beignet recipes call for yeast, this version is great for those afraid of yeast breads and the time they take, and it's still delicious. If you have a New Orleans-style brunch, you will need one person a.s.signed to making beignets as they will disappear as fast as you make them. In a large mixing bowl, combine everything with 1/2 cup of milk, either with an electric mixer or by hand. When you get the lumps out of the batter, it will be stiff; add the rest of the milk to get a thick pancake batter consistency. Let stand at room temperature for an hour or make the night before and bring to room temperature.

In a heavy skillet, heat about 2 inches of oil to a medium temperature. Carefully drop a spoonful of batter at a time in the oil, turning with tongs until they are brown on all sides. Be careful not to heat the oil too hot or you'll have a raw middle in your beignet. You should do a trial run or two. They don't have to have a consistent shape. When they are browned and beautiful, drain them quickly on a paper towel and drop them in a bowl of confectioner's sugar and roll them around. The idea is to get the sugar on while they are still hot.

Twelve.

Heaven was lying on an examining table in the first aid station of the plant. Someone had brought her one of the white disposable hazmat jumpsuits that factory workers sometimes wear and she'd slipped it on over wet underwear. Her costume was wadded up on the floor. Her high heels were at the bottom of the river. Policemen were milling around but so far they hadn't located Durant la Pointe. "So let me get this straight. Truely hired you to investigate his own business?"

The big man, whose name was Sam Delgado, nodded. He insisted on staying with her, only stepping out of the room for her to change clothes. "Truely knew something was up. He was missing coffee, not enough to be financially damaging, but the losses were steady and he couldn't for the life of him figure out what was happening. So he hired me to do some spying."

"And you're a PI?" Heaven was pretty sure she'd ask him all of this before but it was taking a while for it to sink in.

"Yes, ma'am. Licensed by the good state of Louisiana. Truely would not believe me when I told him what was going on, that people close to him were involved. He said he had to see for himself. Didn't know a thing about meth. It was the death of him. He should have just let me turn them in right then. He thought he could talk to them, stop the whole thing."

"Stop Durant la Pointe, you mean?"

Sam looked at her like she was dense and shook his head. "No, his wife and that so-called friend, Tompkins Tibbets. Durant just worked for them."

"So when Durant said to me they were gone for good, he didn't kill them?"

Sam chuckled. "No, tonight was their last shipment, I reckon. They planned this big shindig as their going-away party, not Truely's. They were taking off for Brazil, as it turns out. I bet we'll find out Mary, with her international law background, stashed some a.s.sets in those off-sh.o.r.e banking countries."

"How will we find out? Isn't Brazil one of those places without extradition?"

"Well, it used to be. The laws are a little different now. But it don't make any difference 'cause the plane they chartered had to stop in Miami. A little trouble with one of the ailerons sticking. Otherwise I guess they'd be in the Cayman Islands by now, picking up some cash. My friends at NOPD alerted all the airport police in coastal towns. Mr. Tibbets and Ms. Whitten are in Dade County lockup."

"Can they be charged with Truely's murder?" All of a sudden, Heaven wanted blood. She had been so flimflammed by those two!

Sam ducked his head. "Be hard to do that. The boy you thought was Mr. Whitten's killer is dead, of course. Person who did him seemed like a professional, what with the two shots at the base of the brain like that. The cops have no clues on that. My idea is that Mr. Tibbetts and, uh, Miz Whitten kept the kid somewhere, told him they would get him out of town soon if he would just lay low. They probably took him to another rental property that Mr. Tibbetts owned. It was easy to send a second guy, probably from out of town, to clean up the loose ends."

Heaven felt her face turn hot. She knew she was blushing from the embarra.s.sment of being so fooled. "So what can they be charged with?"

"Conspiracy to distribute methamphetamine, which is a pretty good federal rap. Hard to beat, under the circ.u.mstances. Even if la Pointe doesn't testify against them, the other workers didn't make enough to lay down for Tibbets and, eh, your friend."

Heaven sat up on the side of the table, her legs dangling over the side. "Some friend." She gingerly felt the back of her head and her knees, which were a mess, skinned and caked with dried blood. "I have two more questions, then I have to go home, I mean to Truely's. After Truely was killed, why did you stay on the case and what were you doing trying to break into Truely's house?"

"Well, Truely had given me a big retainer when I started working on this. He still had five K credit and in my book, he still needed my help, even if it was posthumously. I never thought anyone would be downstairs that night after Truely died. I was just going to take a look in his library. Didn't really know what I was looking for. You were there, asleep on the porch. I didn't spot you until you screamed."

All of a sudden Heaven felt dizzy. She ached all over. "Sam, I have my car here but would you follow me home? Back to Truely's, I mean, not Kansas City."

Sam held her arm. "Why don't you let me drive you? You're not in such good shape."

"Because tomorrow I don't want to have to come back here for that rental car. I want to drive it right to the airport and go home, where I belong."

Nancy Blair and Amelia Hart were standing in the doorway. Heaven didn't know how long they'd been there.

"Heaven, honey. You go with this nice investigator," Nancy ordered. "Amelia and I will see to your car and bring it to you in the morning. But not too early. You go rest now, you hear?"

Heaven wanted to argue but she still had a few things to clear up with those two, so she smiled wanly. "Deal. See you around ten or eleven?"

"Deal," Amelia Hart said.

Heaven saw the television cameraman behind Amelia in the hall. She supposed she'd been photographed, out like a light and wet as a river rat. She didn't care at this point. "Sam, take me home," she said and walked barefoot on his arm out into a party that was still going strong, Kermit Ruffin and his band wailing in the background.

A little attempted murder and drug trafficking wasn't going to stop Truely's wake.

Heaven was almost packed. She'd slept like a rock until eight, then woke up with only one desire: to get out of that house and New Orleans as soon as possible. All kinds of scenarios went through her mind as she showered and packed. She saw Mary and Will escaping from jail and driving cross-country in a stolen SUV to get her. She worried about Durant still on the loose, although for the life of her she couldn't imagine why he'd hang around New Orleans just to torture her under the present circ.u.mstances.

It was a beautiful day and, after closing her suitcase and putting it outside by the front door, Heaven began to feel better. She'd be out of here soon. She went into the kitchen and made coffee, read the Times-Picayune that she found on the porch, checked her watch for the tenth time. It was almost ten. If Nancy and Amelia didn't show up soon, she'd call Amelia's cell phone.

In the meantime, she'd find her plane ticket, down at the bottom of the big purse somewhere. She rummaged around and pulled out the list of property owners that had been part of the investigation of the nuns' problems. As she started to throw it in the trash, she glanced at the names again. She really hadn't looked at it after Amelia had given her the information and she'd realized no one company or person owned all or most of the property around the convent. Now the names had some meaning to her. But why? She stared hard at them for a while. Then it clicked, just about the same time the front doorbell rang.

Amelia Hart and Nancy Blair let themselves in. Heaven had set her suitcase out on the porch and kept the door ajar for them. "Yoo-hoo," Nancy yelled.

"Come on back here. You want some coffee?" Heaven asked.

"Sure," Amelia said, "we brought beignets." Nancy nodded yes as well. Soon the three of them were laughing around the table, eating and drinking, as Heaven tried to recount her trip in the river for them. "And I'd decided that Big Man, as I called Sam Delgado, was some kind of a crook. I'd seen him at Truely's office and he'd been hanging around here. So when I saw who had rescued me, I thought I'd just gone from the frying pan into the fire. That and the river water I'd swallowed sent me right out."

"To use a cook's term," Amelia observed.

"Speaking of going from the frying pan to the fire, what in the world made you wear that pin that Truely gave you to the wake? Did you want to rub Mary's nose in it or did you not know it was her pin?" Heaven asked Amelia.

Amelia's face was blank. "Heaven, I don't know what you're talking about. Nancy and I went to the party together last night. When I got to her house, she said my costume needed that Uptown wives' touch. She went and got that pin for me to wear. It doesn't belong to me."

Heaven was floored. She turned to Nancy. "I know that pin was given to Mary by Truely's mother because I saw a Polaroid of it here just the other day and asked about it. How did it get to your jewelry drawer, Nancy?"

Nancy Blair laughed heartily, seemingly cool as usual. "Why, it was just a small token of affection, from Mary to me. I found someone who knew someone who was in a position to get Mary something she wanted. I'd always loved that pin when Truely's mother wore it. You might call it my finder's fee."

"You set her up with a supplier of pseudoephedrine is my guess," Heaven said heavily. "Aren't you worried about the news that Mary and Will were caught?"

"I don't know anyone in the pharmaceutical industry, my dear."

"Oh, I'm sure you covered your a.s.s," Heaven said as she tossed the paper with the names of the property holders toward Nancy. "Just like you covered your a.s.s when you bought up all the property around the Sisters of the Holy Trinity convent. What did you want to build there, Nancy? A casino is my bet."

Amelia pulled the paper over toward her and looked puzzled again. "This is the list of owners around the convent. What makes you think Nancy owns any of this property?"

"I took a look at this list again today. When Nancy and I had lunch the other day, we talked about her husbands." Heaven pointed down at the paper. "Wayne Bernard was your fifth husband, wasn't he, Nancy? Charles McCoy was the cop, number three or four as I remember. And Jimmy Stouffert is the last one, the one that you say you can't find. Did you pay all of them to hold these properties?"

"All but Sam, who is deceased," Nancy said, her eyes narrowed.

Heaven wagged her finger at Nancy. "This conversion to religion didn't take very well on you, did it? You're the one behind all the vandalism. Trying to scare those poor little nuns into selling you their property. When were you going to set it up? Tell them you could stop the problems if they would just sell the convent to a friend of yours." Heaven looked down at the list. "Let's see, which ex-husband is left? I suppose you'd use your first husbands name, Andy Blair, since it's the same as your own."

Cool as a cuc.u.mber, Nancy Blair sipped her coffee. 'You sure have a good memory for names, Heaven. You can't trace any of the poor sisters' vandalism to me, of course."

"The thing I really wonder about is how you sent all those poison-pen letters to all the various cities. Those letters show your true colors, Nancy. Only a really bad person would have thought of that. And me, what a chump. I thought we were getting to be friends. Did you pay someone to rough me up?"