Case of the Ragin' Cajun

by Jeffrey Poole

  “How sure are you it was her?” Vance wanted to know.

  “Pretty sure,” I said. We had been following Royal Street and had just hit the intersection with Toulouse Street. We had one more block to go before we were back at St. Peter. But, I had to rein in my steeds, or else I’d be taken out by the oncoming traffic. “She’s a nerd, pal.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Vance wanted to know.

  “In this case, it doesn’t mean anything derogatory,” I explained. “Think about it. She told us she enjoys sci-fi movies, like Star Wars. She enjoys going to comic-cons with her friends. And, speaking of comic-cons, she indicated she was not happy about having to traipse across town to get to wherever it was now being held.”

  “I still don’t see how being a nerd is relevant,” Vance said.

  “Costumes,” I said, as though that very word should be a sufficient explanation. “People who go to comic-cons typically like to dress up as their favorite characters.”

  “So?” Vance prompted.

  “So, it means they’re very familiar around masks, makeup, and wigs.”

  Tori’s eyes widened. “Oh. I hadn’t even thought of that. Nice job, Zack!”

  I shot Vance a triumphant look. But, before he could react, the light turned green and we were allowed to cross the street. Just like that, thanks to the dogs, we were power-walking the last block before we all turned right. And … there it was. Gumbo Stop, looking—and smelling—just like I remembered it. The four of us, standing behind the two corgis, looked at the front of the shop and then eyed each other.

  “Well?” I asked. “Who gets to do the honors?”

  “What honors?” Jillian asked.

  I pointed at the little restaurant. “Who gets to be the one who goes in there and accuses one of their employees of sickening dozens of people …”

  “… and killing one,” Tori quietly added.

  “… and killing one,” Jillian amended. “I can’t imagine it’ll go over well.”

  “What if she’s in there?” I asked.

  Vance’s face turned grim. “Fine, I’ll do it. But, I need to let the local boys know what we’re doing first.”

  I watched my detective friend pull out his cell and fire off several rapid texts. While he was doing that, I kept a close eye on the dogs. After all, in case Tina was in there, and we were being watched, I figured the dogs would be able to track her much better than any of us could. For the time being, they were content to stay by my side and watch Gumbo Stop’s front entrance.

  “Want me to go with you?” I asked.

  Vance turned to regard me for a few moments. “Yeah, you know what? Why not? Jillian, Tori? Take the dogs, please. Zack? You’re with me.”

  Just before we reached the door, Vance’s cell rang. It was Detective Martins. Vance showed me the display before stepping to the side, indicating he wanted to check in with the police before venturing inside.

  “Detective Martins? Detective Samuelson here. I … what’s that? How’d we know to tail this Tina person? Believe it or not, the dogs have been … yes, that’s right. The dogs have been dropping clues in front of us for the past few days and we finally picked up on them. Yeah, I know it sounds silly, but unless you were there, there’s no way to explain that without sounding crazy.”

  While Vance was on the phone with the local police, I pulled my own phone up and checked the pictures I had taken for the corgis. The ones with food-related items, that is. Sure enough, gumbo was the answer. On each of the menus I had snapped a picture of, gumbo was clearly one of the offerings. Oddly enough, that included Café Beignet. Their menu just had a single line under Side Dishes: a cup of gumbo.

  My eyes dropped down to the dogs. Sherlock was staring at me. In fact, I think the little booger was smirking. Watson had a look of expectation on her face, as though she was saying, well, now you know. What are you gonna do about it?

  Dogs.

  “You’re kidding,” I heard Vance say. Turning, I saw him slowly pacing in front of Jillian and Tori, oblivious to the passing tourists he almost collided with. “No, I didn’t know that. That coincides beautifully with what we found out. Yes, sir, that’s right. It pertains to our prime suspect. This girl, Tina. She works at her family’s restaurant, handling deliveries. Since I can’t imagine she delivers orders on foot, then I’m thinking she must have a bicycle, or a …”

  The corgis suddenly leapt to their feet and lunged forward, which caught both Jillian and Tori off guard. Both ladies were physically pulled forward, but only by a few feet. Jillian recovered quicker, and brought Sherlock to an immediate stop. Tori was a few seconds behind her.

  “Now, what was that for?” Jillian asked, as she dropped into a squat next to the tri-colored corgi. “Did you see something? Smell something?”

  What I hadn’t realized, and didn’t notice, was the departure of a pink 2011 Vespa S scooter. It squeezed through a narrow gap between Gumbo Stop and the specialty clothing store next door and headed south on St. Peter. Thanks to Sherlock and Watson’s lunge in the opposite direction, we all had our backs to Gumbo Stop, which meant—of course—the driver hadn’t noticed our presence. I couldn’t be certain, since she was wearing a pink helmet, but I’m pretty sure it was our girl. Thankfully, Vance finished his phone call and turned around in the nick of time.

  “That’s her! Check out the pink scooter!”

  “She obviously made it back,” Jillian observed, as she shaded her eyes with her hand. “Do you see the wire basket between the handlebars? She’s making a delivery.”

  “And she didn’t see us?” I asked, amazed.

  Vance studied the dogs for a few moments before offering them each several doggie biscuits. “They are something. They distracted us, Zack.”

  “We all turned around, so Tina didn’t see us,” Jillian said. “Well, she’s gone. Now what? Do we try and follow?”

  I pointed at the store. “If she’s making a delivery, then that means she’s back on the clock. It means she’ll be coming back after a bit. I say we head inside. Wait. You were talking to Martins. What did he have to say?”

  Vance snapped his fingers. “Oh, that’s right. Hey, get this. Detective Martins and his shadow uncovered evidence that suggested whoever was responsible for the attack did so without the use of a car.”

  “Is that what you suggested yesterday?” I asked.

  Vance nodded. “That’s right. Anyway, you said Tina works here, right? Well, let’s find out if the driver of that scooter was her.” He turned, walked over to Gumbo Stop’s front door, and held it open. “After you, pal.”

  Once inside, the two of us slowly looked around. Three or four tiny round wooden tables were here and there. There were two stations where customers could dump their trash, stow their trays, or else pick up some plastic flatware. But, it was clear the majority of orders were eaten outside. And, for the record, I thought it smelled fan-freakin’-tastic.

  “Afternoon,” a friendly voice said. Vance and I both looked at the older gentleman standing behind the counter, wearing a stained white apron and a hair net over his balding gray hair. “What can I get for you two gents today? I’m out of sausage, but the batch of seafood gumbo I made this morning is now ready. What do you say I get you guys a bowl each?”

  Vance held up his hand, with his badge prominently displayed. The older man’s eyes widened with alarm.

  “Is everything okay? What’s the matter? Why are you here?”

  “Detective Vance Samuelson,” Vance said, by way of answer. “This is Zack Anderson, who is a consultant of mine.”

  “What’s going on?” the man behind the counter demanded. “Is Tina all right? Has something happened to her?”

  “You’re her father,” I guessed.

  The man hesitantly held out a hand. “Ernie Vallot.”

  Vance’s notebook appeared in his hand. “And you’re the owner here?”

  Ernie began to nervously twist his white apron in his hands.

/>   “That’s right, sir. Third generation business owner. I took over from my father, who took over from his.”

  “Do you and your wife run this establishment together?” I asked, being careful to keep my tone of voice as friendly as possible.

  “My wife has passed away,” Ernie sadly told me. “The only family I have left is my daughter, Tina.”

  Oh, swell. What we had to tell him wasn’t going to go over too well. I looked over at Vance and cringed. Vance returned my look and let out a sigh.

  “Your daughter, Tina,” Vance began. “Does she …”

  “What’s happened?” Ernie interrupted. “Please tell me she’s all right.”

  “For now,” Vance told the shop owner. “I’ll be honest with you. She’s managed to land herself in some trouble.”

  “What happened now?” Ernie demanded, growing angry. “I told her if I caught her shoplifting again, then I was going to raise hell. So, has she?”

  Vance shook his head. “Shoplifted? No. At least, not that I’m aware of. However, I have to tell you she’s become involved in a plot to poison a bunch of people at a recent convention.”

  We both watched as the blood drained from Ernie’s face. “The book exposition? Oh, no! I raised my Tina better than that.”

  “Seems she was a wee bit disgruntled,” I offered.

  “At whom?” Ernie wanted to know.

  I spread my hands in a helpless manner. “I can only assume she was angry with the people who booked it. Looks like the book expo was more popular than her beloved comic-cons.”

  “What did she do?” Ernie whispered.

  “Does she have access to any kind of poisons?” Vance wanted to know.

  “Poisons? She’s a kid, for crying out loud. No, she wouldn’t have access to any types of poison. What a horrible thing to say!”

  “This restaurant,” Vance began, as he made a sweeping gesture with a hand, “does it use any dangerous ingredients? Is there anything that could kill you if it isn’t prepared right?”

  Ernie turned to give an exaggerated look at all cooking surfaces, tools, and implements. “We use only the freshest of ingredients. There is nothing here that is toxic, nor would I ever consider it.”

  “How has Tina been lately?” Vance wanted to know.

  Ernie sighed and leaned back against the counter. “I won’t lie to you. It was hard losing her mother. Tina took it very badly. She seemed to withdraw into herself and rarely come out. But, in the last month, it looked like things were going back to normal. She started smiling again and she was hanging out with her friends.”

  I stared at the man who looked to be about my age. His face was etched with worry lines, he had crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes, and his hair was in the process of turning completely gray. I glanced around the small restaurant and noticed a few things. Everything was clean. Everything was organized. This was someone who, from the looks of things, spent every waking moment in this place.

  “How long ago did you lose her?” I softly asked.

  Ernie looked at me and I could see his eyes fill. Wow. That type of pain in his eyes meant her passing had to have been fairly recent.

  “Two months,” Ernie whispered.

  “It’ll get better, pal,” I told him. “You’ll never completely get over her, but time will help you deal with the pain. Let your daughter help you, if she can.”

  Ernie nodded. “Tina is my rock. I don’t know what I’d do without her. You … you lost your wife?”

  I nodded. “A few years ago. And do you know what?” I tapped my chest. “I still feel her, right here. I still miss her, every day. But, as the days went by, I started to find it easier to get out of bed, to breathe, to live. Stay strong, pal. It’ll get better.”

  A tear escaped from Ernie’s right eye and rolled down his face. He used the back of a hand to wipe it away.

  “Thanks.”

  I watched Ernie take a deep breath. Color was starting to return to his cheeks. He looked at me, and then over at Vance.

  “What has she done? How can I help?”

  “We need some information about your daughter,” Vance began, as he pulled out his notebook. “First off, are we on the right track? Does your daughter enjoy going to comic-cons?”

  Ernie nodded. “Her favorite type of books are science fiction. She loves to imagine what life might be like on other planets. She and her mother used to go to those things all the time.”

  “Dressed up?” I guessed.

  Ernie nodded. “That’s right. How’d you know?”

  “It’s a lucky guess.”

  “I know how much Tina loves going, but I just haven’t had time to take her,” Ernie lamented. “What a horrible father you must think I am.”

  Vance looked imploringly at me and then in Ernie’s direction. It would seem my detective friend wanted me in the role of sympathetic friend.

  “Not at all,” I told Ernie. I pointed at the restaurant. “You seem to be doing pretty good here.”

  “It’s a struggle,” Ernie admitted. “Supply prices keep going up. If I raise prices accordingly, then sales drop. You. You said you’re a detective?”

  Vance nodded. He displayed his badge a second time.

  “If you’re here, asking about Tina, that could only mean you’re correct, and she’s guilty. I just don’t understand why. Why would she do that?”

  “If the book expo looks bad,” I began, “then perhaps the convention center could go back to hosting comic-cons instead? That’s the only thing we could think of.”

  “That makes no sense whatsoever,” Ernie insisted.

  I nodded. “I’d agree with you. However, what if you’re a fourteen-year-old girl? That’s the type of mentality she has at the moment.”

  “She’s sixteen,” Ernie corrected. He wiped his hands on his apron and pulled out his phone. “She should have been back by now. I’m going to call her. She never ignores a call from me.”

  Thirty seconds later, Ernie angrily shoved his cell back into his pocket.

  “She’s ignoring me! Why? She’s never done that before!” Ernie dug the phone out again. Again, the call was ignored. Exasperated, Ernie waited a full thirty seconds before calling a third time.

  “Tina? What are you doing ignoring me? You know the rules! Since when have you … no you don’t. There will be no interrupting me, young lady. Where are you? What’s going on? Why haven’t you returned yet? The police? Yeah, they’re here. They’re asking about you. What have you done?”

  Vance and I shared a brief look.

  “Christina Marie, stop this nonsense now. Come back here. You need to let these people know that you … no! Absolutely not! You will not … she … she h-hung up on me!”

  “Hey, she’s scared,” I offered. “You told her the police were here, and she probably freaked. That’s why we need to find her. Did she go out on a delivery? By any chance, was it on a Vespa?”

  “Her mother and I bought that for her last summer,” Ernie confided. “A pink Vespa. Tina added the basket and convinced me to allow her to make deliveries for the store. Truth be told, if she hadn’t, then I suspect Gumbo Stop would have folded last winter.”

  “People love it when food is brought to them,” I said. “Tina sounds like a smart kid. Trust me when I say we want to help her. So, what else can you tell us about her?”

  “What else do you want to know?” Ernie asked. His phone suddenly beeped, which had him pulling it out to inspect the screen. “Pardon me for a moment. I have an order to fill. Another of Tina’s ideas. People can order food directly from their phones now.”

  I looked out the front window, at the building on the other side of the street. Like this one, it was two stories high. I squinted at the second story and caught sight of furniture on patios, people were walking in and out of sight, holding drinks, food, and so on. The second story? It looked residential.

  I nudged Vance and inclined my head outside.

  “Ernie? By any chance, do you and Ti
na live upstairs? Like, directly above this place?”

  Ernie nodded. “We do. Why?”

  “It’s imperative we locate Tina as soon as possible,” Vance said. I watched as his eyes hardened and his face became impassive. “Would you mind if we looked around her room?”

  “Do you have a warrant?” Ernie asked, growing nervous and withdrawn again.

  “No one has a warrant,” I interjected, before either Vance or poor Ernie could say anything. “We’re trying to help. Tina is acting distraught enough to make us think she might try to hurt someone else. She needs help. Let us give it to her, okay?”

  Ernie reached into another pocket and produced a set of keys.

  “Fine. Go through that door, there. At the end of the hallway, you’ll find stairs going up. The silver key unlocks the door. Do what you need to do.”

  I sent off a quick text to the girls, telling them to meet us at the door leading into the hallway mentioned by Ernie.

  “I must be slipping,” Vance quietly told me, as we stepped into the narrow corridor and headed toward the street. “I didn’t even know this was here.”

  I followed Vance to a simple glass door leading outside to the street. Since it was used by tenants to access the upper residential floors, the door was locked from the outside. Pushing it open, Jillian and Tori, still leading the dogs, followed us in.

  “Do we have permission to do this?” Jillian quietly asked, as she watched Vance fumble with the keys at the top of the stairs. “I wouldn’t want to go in there uninvited.”

  “The owner of the store is the girl’s father,” I explained. “He gave us permission. Tina is the only family he has at the moment, so he naturally doesn’t want anything to happen to her. We’re allowed to do whatever we want in there.”

  Vance unlocked the apartment door and stepped out of the way. The interior of the apartment was just as I expected for someone who had recently lost their significant other: cluttered chaos. Dirty dishes were stacked in the sink. Mail lay in piles on the kitchen table, unopened and unread.