Still Waters [A Kyra Moray Mystery]

by Deanna Lee

  "My bet is he hit you.” Willie frowned harder. “Ought not hit a woman, cop or no. Maybe he should pay for it."

  "He'll get a big fine from the judge."

  * * * *

  Kyra made quick work of finding the arresting officer for Willie's picnic in the park and getting the charges set aside. Feeling charitable, she let Willie get a meal in him before she had him brought up to an interview room.

  "Heard the boys down in holding are treating Jerry a little better than most."

  Kyra snorted and looked through the privacy screen to the room Willie had been brought into. “The jackass was finishing a T-bone when I swung by to chat with him."

  "Not every day we come across a man stupid enough to take a swing at you.” Phil grinned, holding up his hands in mock surrender when she turned to stare at him.

  Kyra sighed. “Let's go see what Willie knows."

  "You were quick to get him sprung."

  She glanced once more at Willie and nodded. Wilfred Barnes was one of the smartest men she knew, and no matter how many times she told herself that he'd let go of society and wouldn't return, she kept hoping she could eventually pull him off the streets. He was a big man, at least three hundred pounds and just under seven feet. They didn't call him Big Willie on the streets for nothing, she supposed. Still, despite his living conditions, he didn't look underfed, and his complexion had a ruddy glow of health. It made her furious that she couldn't make him do what she wanted.

  "Willie's never given me bad information. That counts in my book, even if he is fond of liquor."

  Willie was hovering in the far corner of the room when Kyra entered. Frowning, she sat down at the table and waited for Willie to sit. She'd never known him to be intimidated by her before. “What's up, Willie?"

  "Just want to talk to you.” He looked briefly at Phil and then the chair he was supposed to be sitting in. “Just you."

  "Okay, then.” Kyra glanced at Phil, who nodded and left the room quietly.

  Willie shook his head and looked toward the screen. “He's behind there, watching. Don't like it."

  Kyra frowned, then looked toward the screen. “It's okay, Phil. I'll catch up with you in the field."

  Willie was still for another minute and moved to the chair to sit down. “Don't like ya having a partner."

  Kyra didn't say anything for a moment. When he was settled in the chair, she cleared her throat. “Okay, Willie, what's up?"

  "Something bad on the streets, just not right. Need you to get me a bed for a few weeks. Maybe one of those halfway houses or a treatment program."

  Kyra stilled for a moment. “A treatment program?” She'd spent nearly three years trying to get him into an addiction program. “What's got you running?"

  "Something bad came out of the water. He's just not right, got no soul."

  "Out of the water?” Kyra frowned. “Come on, Willie. What did you see?"

  "The bayou ain't like no place on earth. People go in there and never come out. Sometimes, nobody goes in there and somebody come out. He wasn't here before; he came from the water. Vicious, mean thing. Cut the girl; didn't see it. Know he did it, though."

  "Willie, you know I don't believe in such things."

  "Don't gotta believe; just gotta see.” Willie reached out and grabbed her hand. She noticed immediately his hand was shaking badly. “Come out of the water. Cut that poor girl. It was her soul that he wanted. Sure as I'm sittin’ here. Didn't want her; she wasn't important."

  "Are you talking about Donna LaRoux?"

  "Sweet girl at the diner. She used to give me coffee out the back door when Noel wasn't lookin'.” Willie tightened his fingers around her hand. “He took what was important. Left you a message, didn't he?"

  She didn't answer. Kyra had known Willie since she'd been a beat cop. There had never been a time when he'd seemed so upset. “I'll get you a bed at the Smythe House. Don't know how long they'll be able to keep you—probably longer if you agree to take the classes and not drink."

  Willie nodded quickly. “That'll do. That'll do."

  "Did you see a vehicle?"

  "Dark blue van, shiny wheels, the kind with the puncture-proofing. Must drive on a lot of unpaved roads to pay that much for pricey tires."

  "What about the driver? What can you tell me about him?"

  "Tall; not as tall as me.” He grinned then and lowered his gaze to the table when she didn't smile back. “Couldn't tell race—he had his face and hands covered. He's young, though. Young and fit."

  Kyra stood. She knew she wouldn't get much more out of him. “I'll get you that bed now."

  "Want to wait in my cell.” Willie stood. “Ain't safe. Just ain't, otherwise. You'll take me over to the house?"

  Kyra nodded. “Yeah, Willie, I will.” She paused at the door. “You won't have to go anywhere. You can stay here until I'm ready to ride. You know you can trust my partner."

  "Don't know about him."

  * * * *

  Kyra propped her feet up on her desk. “You scared Professor Willie."

  "Professor Willie?” Phil's eyes got wide with surprise. “He's the size of an oak tree."

  "Yeah.” Kyra grimaced. “You know, he taught law back east somewhere for years before his family was killed. Some asshole broke into his home and killed his wife, children, and one grandchild while he was teaching a night class. The case was never solved. They say he lost his mind. He drank his way south until he hit New Orleans and has been here for eleven years."

  "Why was he in holding?"

  "Beat cops normally make sure to keep him out of harm's way; brought him in last night because it was supposed to rain.” Kyra looked at Phil. “You know, there are some people you just can't give up on. There isn't a cop in this city that hasn't gone out of their way for Willie Barnes, except maybe you. You're too new for it. Give him a while to get used to you."

  "Did he give you any information?"

  Kyra frowned; she was still puzzling over that. “Normally he's pretty straightforward about information. He's scared, Phil. Willie actually asked for a bed in a halfway house. It's like pulling teeth with him to get him to admit he needs help. He kept talking about the bayou and a man coming out of the water.” She stood. “I want to go down to the Smythe House and get him a room for a few weeks. I need you to bring the stepbrother back in. Prepare him; he might have to view the body."

  * * * *

  Kyra entered the Smythe House with a smile for the owner and operator. Neal Valteau smiled back and started shaking his head.

  "Whatever it is, no."

  "Come on, Neal. Do I need to go see your daddy and tell him you were mean to me?"

  She smiled and watched a blush steal across his cheeks. Neal was attractive in a neat and orderly sort of way. His slacks were always pressed, his tie always in place. His dark brown hair was cut short and styled. She supposed that if she hadn't liked her men a little on the rough side, she might have gone for him.

  Neal sighed. “I really can't thank you enough for being there for him the other night. He takes those girls that work for him to heart, almost like family. I don't know how he's managing to hold it together."

  Kyra sat down in a chair as Neal sat down behind his desk. “He's a good man, runs a good place. I eat there more than I should."

  "What do you need, Kyra?"

  "Professor Willie is outside."

  Neal raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Kyra, don't tease me. I've been trying to get ahold of that old man for four years now."

  "He's out in my vehicle, sitting as meek as a newborn babe, and I want to put him up here indefinitely."

  "He hurt or sick?” Neal asked softly.

  "He's always been hurt,” Kyra returned, sighing. “He's scared. That murder at your daddy's place has him all twisted up. He's saying the bayou coughed up a monster. He says the streets aren't safe."

  "Streets haven't ever been safe, but no one messes with Professor Willie."

  "Still, he's scared. I'm af
raid he'll do something to get himself put in jail for real; that's how scared he appears to be.” Kyra met Neal's gaze. “I need to know you'll make every effort to keep him here."

  "No worries on that front.” Neal stood. “I got a room with its own bathroom open. We had to move the last tenant to a state facility just this morning."

  "I know that most of the men who stay here work their way...” She reddened with embarrassment. “I'm willing to make sure that his being here isn't a financial hardship for the house."

  "It won't be. I get that man sober and focused, he could do a lot of good around this place. I'll keep him as long as I can. Still, if he's as scared as you make out, I doubt I'll have any problems."

  * * * *

  Kyra hovered in the doorway of her commander's office for a half-minute before she cleared her throat. “Say, you got time for a conversation?"

  He motioned her to come in and looked up as she closed the door. “What's up?"

  "When are we going to discuss why Phil was assigned to me?"

  "Looks like right now,” he muttered.

  Kyra sat down and waited. When he'd asked her to take Phil as a partner, she hadn't hesitated. She respected her commander enough to know that he wouldn't have asked if it wasn't important. Ethan Baker was a man who never said anything without thinking it through. Whatever he had to tell her about Phil didn't appear to be an easy thing for him. She knew Phil had come in from Lafayette, and that his record had a seal on it.

  "Two months after he earned his sergeant's shield, things got twisted up with his partner. His partner was on the take. No one knew either way about Phil. They couldn't prove he was, but no one in his precinct thought he was clean except his captain. Me and his old captain go back a ways; I agreed to take Phil on. I gave him to you, because I knew if he was dirty, you'd find out."

  Kyra nodded. “I see."

  "Have you found out?"

  "No. I don't think he's dirty. He doesn't have the grit for it. Not sure if he would follow a bad cop, though. Did he testify against his partner?"

  "His ex-partner ate his gun just before the investigation was to go public. It was a mess, not something the boys in Lafayette like to talk about.” Ethan looked over Kyra's face, shook his head at the bruise. “What's going on?"

  "I snagged Professor Willie out of holding because he had some information."

  "I heard."

  "Willie refused to talk to me while Phil was in the room. Willie's a good people-person, an excellent judge. He's afraid of Phil."

  "Interesting. How did Phil react?"

  "He shrugged it off.” Kyra looked at her comm-u and stood. “I have Donna LaRoux's brother in for another interview. I'll be submitting a report this evening before I hit the road."

  "It can wait until the morning. Go home after your interview with the kid."

  * * * *

  "What do you mean you can't find him?” Kyra grimaced, aware of her tone. “Sorry."

  Phil shrugged. “No big deal. He's not at work or his apartment.” He sat down in a chair next to Kyra's desk. “My feeling is that he's blowing off some steam with a few friends. Can't be easy for him."

  "Yeah.” Kyra nodded. “I have a few calls to make ... you want to go down and see if you can nudge Parker on Donna's final?"

  "Sounds good."

  Kyra waited until he closed the door, and then she slowly lowered her head to her desk. It seemed the world was out to thwart her. Grimly, she pulled out a directory to find the comm-number for the costume shop where her grandmother had picked out her costume for the masquerade ball. Called Masks of All Trades, they promised the unique. It was the “unique” that worried Kyra.

  "Good afternoon, this is Kyra Moray. My grandmother made costume reservations for me. I was wondering if you could tell me what she chose and what size it is."

  Chapter Three

  Kyra shouldered her bag and propped her groceries on her hip as she unlocked the door. With more bravery than agility, she stepped over the package that was now across her threshold and took her groceries into the kitchen. The long box, obviously from a floral shop, was something of a surprise. She hadn't dated in a while, so there was no man trying to get back in her good graces. She picked it up and shut her door with one foot.

  A simple red bow was tied around the box. She pulled it and dismissed it as it fell to the floor. Inside the box, she found a blood-red rose and an envelope. Curiosity piqued, she laid the rose and box on the counter in the kitchen and opened the card.

  Length: 9.5 inches

  Circumference: 5.16 inches

  References Available upon request

  Laughing, she put the card aside and found a small vase under the sink for the rose. Amused by his gift and his card, she took the rose and vase to her bedroom. The rose had almost erased her displeasure. She'd spent twenty minutes on the comm-u with the costume shop before she'd successfully changed the size. She hadn't been a size eight in nearly ten years. Her grandmother never ceased to amaze her. Since her grandmother was a ditz, Kyra didn't consider the costume or the sizing some sort of emotional warfare. It was just who her grandmother was.

  No wig, no corset, and a dress that was a size ten, thank everyone very much, was in Kyra's future, and she was grateful. She wasn't exactly pleased to be going in pink, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Anyway, maybe she'd get wounded in the line of duty before the damn ball happened. Horrified at her mental wanderings, she crossed herself and sent God a small prayer hoping He'd forget her stupidity.

  Nine and half inches? She dropped back on her bed and looked at the rose. She was going to see him Friday night, but it wouldn't hurt to swing by Still Waters tonight, would it? Kyra sat up, ran her fingers through her hair, and hopped off the bed. With a sigh, she went into the bathroom and pulled out the nanobot activation kit. Pulling out an injection unit, she pressed it against her skin and jumped just a little when the compressed air shot the activation-bot into her bloodstream.

  Kyra glanced briefly at her reflection in the mirror as she put the injection unit down. The bruising was much worse than she'd thought, mostly, she supposed, because of the second hit she'd taken. Otherwise, she looked good, which she could blame on her grandmother and the four years spent on the pageant circuit. The permanent enhancements to her face and eyes made beauty chemicals unnecessary. Though her skin was slightly pale from lack of sleep, her lips were a nice lush pink; cheeks were highlighted expertly with a soft, barely detectable blush. Her dark green eyes were gently outlined with a soft brown tattooed eyeliner that accentuated their shape and size. Her lashes were naturally thick and dark.

  She touched the bruise once and sighed. Intellectually, she knew that she couldn't feel the nanobots as they activated and started to move around her body to repair minor damage to her cells. However, on some deeper level the knowledge that the invisible little bots were running around inside her body, beyond her control, made her itch. She made a quick run through the kitchen to put away the perishables, and left.

  Out of her apartment building, she made herself stroll leisurely down the street to the bar. It wouldn't do to be out of breath when she got there. The man at the door gave her an abrupt nod as she walked across the street. With a little flourish, he opened the door and shooed her in out of the night.

  Jazz and beer were flowing nicely for a Wednesday night. She found an empty stool and slid up onto it.

  "I bet you're the cop."

  Kyra turned and offered the man who'd spoken a smile. He had neat and orderly braids falling over dark, angelic features, and he looked like pure sin. “I am a cop. Who are you?"

  "Marcus Waters.” He offered her his hand and smiled when she took it. “You got a look, that's for sure.” He focused on the bruise over her jawbone. “Who won the fight?"

  "I always win the fights,” Kyra murmured, pulling her hand from his as Alex moved down the bar and set a glass of water in front of her. For a couple of seconds, she just stared; there was something so alluring a
bout him that it made her apprehensive. Men like him didn't fit into neat little pockets, and that's all she had room for in her life. “Hey."

  "Hey, yourself. Catch any bad guys today?"

  "Not today.” She plucked a straw out of his pocket and stripped it as she frowned. “Say, you know Professor Willie?"

  "Yeah, he's an institution around these parts. He usually comes around on nights like this, but one is his limit here.” Alex leaned on the bar. “Something happen to him?"

  "He got jailed last night for D & D. Not unusual for him, especially since it was supposed to rain.” She shrugged. “Except, today when I was talking with him, he made it clear he didn't want to go back on the streets. You hear anything?"

  Alex shook his head. “Nope. Not many people mess with a big boy like him."

  "Yeah.” She swished her straw through her water and looked around the bar before settling her gaze on his brother. “I have your last CD."

  Marcus smiled. “See, I told ya I'd find the lady who bought it."

  She rolled her eyes. The album in question had gone platinum; she knew she wasn't the only one to buy it. “My grandmother told me I shouldn't keep sex music out in the living room with the rest of my music. She hid it the drawer of my nightstand."

  Alex shook his head and laughed as a customer got his attention. “He always was the one."

  Kyra watched him move down the bar, her gaze traveling over the startlingly nice view she had of his ass, and then looked at Marcus. “So, why are you retiring?"

  "At the moment, I'm tired of the travel.” He looked at his brother and then back at her. “I've never known him to be interested in a cop.” Marcus looked her over and grinned. “But then, I've never seen a cop like you."

  "Sure you have. Don't you watch the vid-panel?"

  "Not enough, apparently.” He pushed aside his drink. “Want to make him mad?"

  Kyra shook her head. “No, not yet. He hasn't done anything to warrant it."

  Marcus slipped off the stool. “I guess I'll go find some lonely young lady to dance with, then."

  She shook her head as he disappeared into the crowd and Alex appeared back in front of her. “Your brother is an interesting man."