“Was the overall head count off by one?” Juanita asks.
Esposito shakes his head. “Unless she’s still hiding on the ship.”
“Jamaica, Grand Cayman and Cozumel,” Aiden says. “We have agents checking all three.”
“Puerto Rico as well since she had a US passport from there.”
Juanita doesn’t say it but Grand Cayman is just below Cuba. So is Jamaica. Somehow, she’s sure Consuela is beyond reach on the island known as the Pearl of the Antilles. Cuba.
“You have a bigger problem, Mr. ASAC.” Beau stands and stretches. “Two mobs that hate each other locate your caravan at the same moment and shoot it up. How’d they do that?”
“Actually we know how the Bucuresti located the caravan.”
Beau sits down.
“We found a tracking device on one of the Marshal’s vans. Locator was in the Chevy.” The ASAC picks up his cigar. “We believe there’s a eighty percent chance the Mafiosi in the blue van were tailing the Chevy.” He gives Beau a sly smile. “We’re not dumb, you know.”
Beau just nods. Keeps his big mouth shut.
• New Orleans Marina • 7:01 p.m.
Stella Blanche Du Bois Beau, as he calls her when she won’t come out from hiding, continues hiding.
“Come on out,” Jessie adds as Beau places three po-boys on the small table. Stefi moves to the sofa and looks around.
“I thought she liked you,” Stefi tells her sister.
“She does. It’s you she doesn’t like.”
“She doesn’t know me.”
“When she does, she’ll like you even less.”
Stefi sticks out her tongue.
Beau pulls the last Barq’s from his fridge, along with two Cokes and they open the wrappings of the po-boys and start eating. Stefi has fried shrimp, Jessie a panné meat po-boy and Beau, hot-sausage. Stefi keeps looking around as she eats.
“Your bedroom is a loft?”
Beau nods, his mouth full.
“This is cool.”
Beau tries not to eat fast, but he’s hungry. He finishes his first half, catches Stefi’s eyes and nods to the sofa where Stella sits, watching them with her green eyes. Stefi stops eating, watches the cat.
“She’s gorgeous.”
“Don’t look her in the eye.” Jessie says. “She’ll take it as a challenge.”
“Too late.”
“Let her come to you,” Beau says.
The sisters are in T-shirts and jeans, Stefi in a purple-and-gold LSU shirt, Jessie in a red one with black printing that reads: I’ve Been To Hell And Back. Hell, Cayman Islands.
“She went on a nude cruise,” Stefi says.
“It wasn’t a nude cruise.”
“Then why do you have pictures of you topless?”
“Where did you see my pictures?”
Stefi gives Beau a shifty smile. “It’s good she got out of the detective business. I’m the one who should be a sleuth.”
Beau’s more surprised a fourteen year old knows the word sleuth.
“As you should realize,” Jessie says, “there’s a problem with my little sister.”
Stefi cuts in. “What kind of problem?”
“She’ll say anything. Ask anything. She’s only fourteen and she’ll tell you she isn’t a virgin. We have no way of knowing, of course. Dino thinks I’m a handful. She’s two handfuls.”
Stefi looks at Stella who hasn’t moved but is focused on the stranger now.
“What are those little cuts on your face and neck?” Stefi asks Beau.
Beau and Jessie exchange a furtive look.
“Bullets,” Jessie says. “Missed the big lug but took out a window next to him.”
Stefi looks from one to the other, probably wondering if this is a joke.
“Our cousin Dino has shot a buncha men.” She takes a bite of po-boy.
“I heard that,” Beau says, takes another bite.
“Do you love my sister or just love her body?” The little sister proves her big sister’s right. Ask anything.
Beau tries not to smirk. “I’m not sure.”
“Not sure you’re in love with her or love her body?”
“That’s right.”
Stefi looks at him now.
“Have you ever been in love John Raven Beau? I like that name.”
He takes another bite.
“Come on. You’re not afraid to answer a little question like that.”
He shakes his head and tells her yes.
“How many times?”
Jessie – “Don’t encourage her.”
“Twice.”
“What happened? They didn’t die did they? Like in one of those tear-jerker movies.”
“Nope. They just left.”
“Just left?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
Jessie huffs, takes a big bite of po-boy.
“The first left to go to Hollywood to be a movie star. The second left because, well, she blamed my job.”
“Job? You mean being a cop?”
“I mean being a homicide detective.”
Stefi seems to think about that a moment before – “Did the first one ever become a movie star?”
“Yes. Her real name is Judy Soubirou but you know her as Judy Barlow.”
Jessie grabs his arm, turns him her way. “Judy Barlow? Academy Award winner Judy Barlow?”
“Yeah.”
“Judy Barlow? The Breathtaking Brunette – Judy Barlow? For Love’s Sake – Judy Barlow?”
“That’s her.”
The sisters look at each other, eyes wide now.
“When was this?” Jessie’s voice drops.
“When I was at LSU. I was a quarterback. She was a Golden Girl. Dance team.”
“Those hot chicks in the white outfits?” Stefi bounces in her seat.
Jessie’s mouth is half open and Beau laughs. “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you at a loss for words.”
“Oh,” Stefi jumps as Stella puts her front paws on her hip, standing on her hind legs now.
“Give her a shrimp. Just one. Peel off the crust first.”
Stella eats the shrimp. Puts her paws back up for another.
“Just one.”
When he sees Stefi slip another shrimp to Stella he tells Jessie, “Yep. Two handfuls.”
Later – after he brings them home and kisses Jessie goodnight, she grabs his shirt.
“So you went out with a movie star.”
“She wasn’t a movie star when we dated.” He almost says he’s going out with a movie star now but he’ll have to wipe the syrup off so he asks the girl who crossed Magazine Street in the holy grail of women’s outfits, the little black dress, “Now that the subject’s been broached, how many times have you been in love?”
“Never.”
“Never?”
“Well, I’m not sure.” The French kiss almost keeps Beau from leaving.
Tuesday
• Police Headquarters • 9:14 a.m.
When Juanita comes back from the computer room getting the print outs of all available data on the dead guys from Canal and Broad, Beau hangs up and tells her about the three bodies found in Mississippi.
“It seems Nick Cataldo’s gonna need some more goombas. Turi Caruso, one of Nick’s capos, and his brother Enzo and our buddy Tito Palista. Their bodies were found yesterday evening in some woods off I-10, actually on the NASA Test Site north of Bay St. Louis, Mississippi. All three tied up and shot in the back of the head.”
Juanita sits, leans back, puts her hands behind her head.
“You think the Bucuresti is capable of that?”
“They’re more the machine-gun-everyone-in-sight type.”
“Damn. Tito?” Juanita waves to Beau’s office phone. “Did the FBI call? They won’t need Maria now, will they?”
“That was LaStanza. Son of a gun has more contacts.”
“How long do you think before the Feds call?”
&nb
sp; The phone rings and Beau laughs, scoops it up. It’s Fel Jones.
“Still got nothing on Maria,” he tells Beau who asks if he’s heard about the Carusos and Palista. He hasn’t. When Beau’s finished Fel says, “Looks like Nick Cataldo finally made the move. Rid himself of the Carusos. Mississippi, right?”
“NASA land.”
“That’ll bring in the FBI. Hancock County Sheriff will be happy to punt it and we all know how good the FBI is on homicide cases.”
“They aren’t.”
“Fuckin’ right. Better for Cataldo, the Jackson Field Office will have to handle it, not the New Orleans FBI Office. They’ll be assisting but the Mississippi Gulf Coast means the Incanto Family outta Pass Christian just cemented their alliance with Cataldo. Nicky boy is turning the Badalamente Family into the Cataldo Family. Then again, he’s old man Badalamente’s nephew.”
“You don’t think the Romanians did this?”
“No fuckin’ way. This has Cosa Nostra written all over it. Call ya’ later.” Fel hangs up.
Settling back in his chair, Beau waits for it and Juanita doesn’t disappoint him.
“Where does this leave us?”
“A missing woman and the unsolved murder of Judy Crumit, alias Judy Allure.” His eyes lock on Juanita’s. “Nobody said this would be uncomplicated.”
“But my brain’s hurting.”
Beau leans back in his chair, raises his gaze to the tile ceiling, closes his eyes. “Well let’s uncomplicate it. List the facts we know and go from there.”
He’s not disappointed as Juanita takes out a fresh note pad.
“Then we hit the streets. Maria Mirescu’s not gonna walk into headquarters.”
Wednesday
• New Orleans Marina, 4:14 a.m.
Stella jumps from the bed as Alizée wakes Beau who slowly crawls over to scoop his iPhone, blinks at the number. Doesn’t recognize it. Answers anyway.
“Hey, Baby.” It’s Cherry. “That blond you lookin’ for. She’s in one of them Lotels. The Cray. She stayin’ with the manager. Man with skunk hair.”
Beau sits up. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
Stella comes for pets.
“What’s skunk hair?”
“Old man dyes his hair black but leaves a white streak in front. Fuckin’ weird. But the bad news is all kinda gangsters searchin’ for her. Mafia and men look like Russian wrestlers.”
“Thanks. I owe you.”
“You shore do.”
“Stay clear.”
“You got it.” Cherry hangs up and Beau starts dressing, calls Juanita. Stella nibbles his fingers when he stops petting her. He starts up again.
“We’re going alone?” Juanita asks.
“Depends whose working Homicide tonight.”
“Jodie’s crew. They just rotated.”
“Call them and I’ll come get you.”
He jumps out of bed and gets dressed, thinking – The Cray. That’s L’hotel Crais on Lee Circle. Right down Saint Charles from Restaurant Boulangére. His first date with Jessie.
Beau goes tactical, in all black. He takes an extra few minutes to reload his Glocks and magazines with the special accelerator rounds given to him by ATF after the Brown Ravens shootout, bullets made in Israel. Hollow-points, these Shtark 9mms pack the punch of a forty-five but splinter nicely.
• Saint Charles Avenue, 3:02 a.m.
It’s an old, brown brick building, probably built around 1900, maybe a little later. Once a law firm with additional offices upstairs, it became a restaurant with apartments on the second and third floors, then the first floor became a bar called Robert E’s that lasted sixty years until Katrina. Newly renovated, L’hotel Crais has been open for about a year.
Across the street, the massive ionic column in the center of Lee Circle hovers above the tallest buildings on the circle with the statue of Robert E. Lee atop. Lee stands with his arms folded, facing north because rebel generals do not turn their back on the enemy.
Two marked police cars park at either end of the alley behind the place. Headlights illuminating the dark alley while another marked unit pulls up front with Jodie Kintyre’s unmarked unit and Beau’s SUV.
Jodie leads the way into the Crais with Rothman. She’s in a beige skirt-suit and he wears a dark brown suit. Beau and Juanita step in with their tactical get ups, Juanita choosing olive green. The man behind the counter wears a red wine colored suit and looks to be pushing seventy with a coal black moustache and thick mane of dyed black hair with a white swatch in front. Skunk hair. Rothman moves to the left side of the counter as Jodie tells the man who they are. His deep set eyes watch Beau for a moment.
“Where is Maria?” Jodie asks.
“Who?”
Juanita steps over with a picture of Maria Mirescu and the man rocks back on his heels.
“We’re about to tear the place down around you,” Jodie says. “Where is she?”
Beau goes around the counter to the man, sees his name plate reads Jack Frost. He leans close to the old man, close enough to smell cheap cologne.
“Your name really John Frost?”
“Jack. My mother thought it was funny. She called my sister Brunhilda.”
“Where’s your room, Mr. Frost?”
It’s down the main hall, off to the right, down a smaller hall, door with no marking.
Beau checks the knob. Locked. He nods to the old man who takes out a large set of keys, his hand trembling now. He leads them in, Beau using the old fool as a shield just in case.
“Maria?”
“Baby?”
“No, its Beau. Hope you’re decent because we’re coming in.”
Maria peeks out of the bathroom, her big eyes tearing up right away as she steps out in a white bra and panties and hugs Jack Frost. He sinks his face against her neck. She’s taller than the old man and his shoulders shake. She pats his back and tries to smile, her lower lip quivering.
“Very touching,” says Jodie. “You need to get dressed.”
“All I have is the jumpsuit they give me.”
“That’ll work.”
Juanita searches the room while Rothman comes in to catch a peek of Maria in her underwear, smiles as Maria disentangles herself from the old man, steps up to Beau, put her hands on his chest.
“They almost kill me.” She puts her face against his shoulder and cries. Whatever perfume she wears is light and very nice.
Jodie pokes her in the back. “Come on. We gotta go. We found you. They could too.” She comes around so Maria can see her face now. “Get dressed and kiss your boyfriend goodbye.”
Maria eases back, looks up at Beau.
“Not him. His girlfriend’s prettier than all of us.”
Maria Mirescu leaves seventy-four year old Jack Frost sitting on his bed, tears running down his face. Beau and Rothman lead the way back to the lobby with Maria, in her jumpsuit now, sandwiched between Juanita and Jodie pulling up the rear. She hasn’t said a word to Beau tonight. Something’s bothering her. He’ll have to talk with her later.
As they approach the front doors, Beau pulls out his Glock and goes out first. Rothman pulls out his Glock, turns and smiles at Maria.
“Hope you trimmed the old coot, at least.”
There’s a taste of ozone in the still air, Beau ears feel flushed and his neck tingles and he turns, pushes Juanita and Maria back in as the front door shatters with the sound of gunfire. His left shoulder burns.
Pow. Pow. Pow. Pow.
He wheels and sees a flash from the circle and a dark figure turning to run up to the column. Beau aims carefully. It’s gotta be fifty yards and he fires twice. Sees the figure stumble but keeps going. A passing car swerves, the driver hitting its horn and Beau passes behind it. Running flat out for the circle, Beau hears footsteps behind him.
Flash and concussions – Pow. Pow. Pow.
Beau sees him now. Handgun. Big man turns to race around the wide base of Lee’s column.
&
nbsp; “Stay with me,” he calls back, sees its Juanita. Never separate. Bring two guns to every firing point.
Beau follows the shooter around and sees the man heading down to the avenue. Beneath the streetlights now, the shooter turns and reaches back, pistol in one hand and fires at them. They duck behind bushes and Beau takes a bead on the man but can’t shoot with the streetcar passing behind the man. Its bell clangs and the streetcar continues and the shooter fires again, reaches into his pocket for a magazine and waivers on his feet.
The shots hit him square in the torso as Beau fires three times and Juanita fires four rounds. She watches, like in the movies, as the man staggers straight back and falls, doesn’t move. Footsteps turn Beau to see a uniformed officer coming around behind Juanita.
“Where is he?”
Beau stands up. Points his Glock to the avenue. He still has thirteen rounds in his weapon. He walks toward the shooter who hasn’t moved, Juanita to Beau’s right, the uniform cop to his left. They have their weapons pointed at the prostrate figure.
The man’s eyes are half open, arms spread, 9mm Beretta lying next to his right hand. He wears a black, long-sleeves turtle neck and black pants, black shoes. He’s thick-set but looks more muscular than fat, has a beard. His throat is punctured and covered in splattered blood. Two bullet holes dot his chest, three in his belly, blood is pooled beneath his left leg.
Juanita checks the man for vital signs. Shakes her head as she stands.
Beau looks at the cop, then looks back toward the column.
“The detectives?”
“Hustled the blond into an unmarked car and took off.”
Good work Jodie.
Beau asks Juanita and the uniformed cop whose name plate reads ‘Ford’ to remain with the body and goes back to the L’hotel, finds Jodie in the lobby with two other cops.
“Maria?”
“Rothman took her to the Bureau.”
Jodie steps up, focusing on his left shoulder. “You hit?”
“No.”
She touches his shoulder and it burns.
There’s a slice across his shirt along his left deltoid. Jodie pulls the shirt away to show a burn mark. No blood.
“Ruined my fuckin’ tactical shirt.” He grins at Jodie. “I got another shirt in the SUV.”
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