by Deborah Camp
“Kind!” Trudy sucked in a breath as the name clicked perfectly into the puzzle in her mind. “That’s what that man meant!”
“What man?” Dupree asked.
“When I was inside his head at the construction site, this other man walked up to him and asked him if he was kind and A.J. said he was. I’ve tried to figure out why that man would ask such a thing and why A.J. would agree that he was kind when he’s anything but. Never did make any sense until now.”
Levi chuckled under his breath. “Mystery solved.”
“Does he have the tattoo on his arm?” Trudy asked.
“Don’t know. He was wearing long sleeves and we didn’t want to be obvious. Don’t want him to run and hide from us until we’re more certain of his identity.”
“Or have him lawyer up or tip off Forté,” Bonifay added. “We need to find out his connection with Forté first.”
“We’ll put a tail on him and see what develops in the next few days.”
“If we’re lucky, we might even catch him stalking a female or discover how he and Forté exchange information,” Bonifay said, hitching her hip onto the corner of the table.
Dupree put out his hand. “Thanks, Wolfe. I mean it. You and your lady have been helpful. Now, if you wouldn’t mind steering clear of this for the next few days? Wouldn’t want you to get caught in our net or the crossfire.”
Levi shook the man’s hand, although Trudy sensed his irritation at having been complimented and told to “shove off” in the same breath. “Of course. We’d appreciate being kept informed of any breakthroughs or arrests.”
“Sure, sure.” Dupree slapped him on the back and showed them to the door.
Outside, Levi slipped on his sunglasses and his scowl. Trudy linked the fingers of one hand with his.
“Nothing like being told to stay on the porch and let the big dogs do their thing, huh?”
He shrugged and his quick smile was almost a smirk. “Let’s grab some lunch. I’ll pay.”
“I should hope so. I mean, if you expect me to put out later, the least you can do is fork over some dough for a decent meal.”
Chapter 18
Trudy and Levi ate their lunch of crepes, coffee, and pralines that melted on their tongues at a café down a few blocks from the Café du Monde. The lure of the French Market was irresistible, so they wandered from vendor to vendor and wound up in the flea market area. Trudy bought some souvenirs for her family and friends – an artist’s sketch of the Café du Monde mounted to an old slate rooftile from one of the buildings, a pair of gargoyles, a pen and ink drawing of the Desire streetcar, and child’s size t-shirts with Mardi Gras masks on them for her nephew and niece.
Levi enjoyed watching her make the selections. For a woman who disliked shopping, she seemed to be having a good time as she negotiated every price. The gargoyles were priced at $10 each and she purchased them for $15 for the pair. She managed to shave a few dollars off every other item, too. When she caught his head shake and eye roll, she did that thing with her chin that always made him want to grab her and kiss her. That little upward jerk in a challenge that fired his blood. He gripped her elbow and was leaning closer to tell her the effect she had on him when another woman snagged his attention. He straightened away from Trudy and his heart kicked.
Imogene Danzing strolled from booth to booth, not ten feet from them. An angular woman with a figure as curvy as an ironing board, she had pulled her black, springy curls into a tight bun at her nape. A big basket swung from one arm. Her attire was more like a uniform – black skirt, white blouse, black, sensible shoes in which she took long, purposeful strides.
Trudy turned her head to see what he was looking at and sucked in a breath. “Oh, my gosh!”
“Lucky, lucky, lucky,” Levi whispered to her, taking the two shopping bags from Trudy. “The stars have aligned for us, baby. Let’s chat her up, shall we?”
Trudy nodded and closed the distance between them. “Imogene?” She stepped into her path. “Hi. It’s Trudy and Levi. From the séance.”
“Oh, yeah.” Imogene’s eyes widened for an instant. “What happened to you?”
Levi touched the bruise on his chin. “Nothing much.”
“Hmmm.” She eyed him suspiciously. “I thought you two would be gone by now.”
“No, but we will be soon.” Trudy glanced at Imogene’s empty basket. “You’re shopping?”
“Yeah. Thought I’d see if there was anything fresh in today over at the Farmer’s Market. Might even see if I can get us some fresh fish or shrimp. Something like that. I’m in the mood for gumbo.”
“Are you also the chef for Mrs. Chambers?” Levi asked.
“Naw. They got Dorthea the cook for that. But Dorthea don’t mind if I pick up groceries now and again. ʼSpecially if I can score some fish right outta the river or ocean.”
They flanked her and strolled on, listening to her chatter away about seafood and her mama’s gumbo recipe. When Imogene finally ran out of fish and gumbo stories, Levi rested a hand on her forearm and nodded at a bakery shop.
“Won’t you join us for a coffee and pastry?”
“I should go on about my business.”
“Half an hour. How’s that going to hurt?”
Imogene flounced her narrow shoulders. “Sure. Why not? I’ll buy a loaf of fresh bread while I’m at it.”
They chose a small table just inside the front door of the shop. Trudy and Levi ordered café au laits and croissants. Imogene asked for a caramel iced coffee, a cream horn, and a loaf of French bread. Imogene gave Levi a big smile when he paid the entire check. Sipping the drinks and enjoying the sweets, they engaged in a bit of small talk about the best shops in the French Quarter and good places to eat that weren’t overrun with tourists.
“How long have you worked for Mrs. Chambers?” Levi asked when the conversation waned.
“Going on six years now. I worked for a maid service before that and I came to her house for the first time as part of a cleaning crew after one of her parties.”
“Does she have a lot of parties?” Trudy asked.
“Not as much after Doctor Dessie moved in. But she still entertains most every week. Has her ladies in for card games or their book club. And she’s real active in other social groups. She’s always doing things with the Catholic Church.”
“And her brother? I don’t suppose he goes out much after his accident,” Levi said.
“He sticks close to home. He don’t like to drive much. He’s got a special car and all, but he don’t care for it.” She shrugged as her voice faded.
“Does he have a lot of friends like his sister does?”
“No, not really. He’s picky. Told me once that he chooses friends as carefully as other people choose their mates.”
“You’re one of his friends, aren’t you?” Trudy asked with a smile. “I could tell that he’s fond of you.”
Imogene smoothed over her hair and her cheeks pinked up. “We do have our fun. He can be a rascal. Always up to something. He likes to cause a stir. Yeah, I got a soft spot for him, all right. He’s good to me. Gives me bonus money because he appreciates that I work hard. He respects people who aren’t lazy good-for-nuthins.”
“I noticed the ramp in front of the house,” Levi said. “My construction company has refitted a few homes for people who became handicapped.”
Trudy sent him a quick glance, realizing that he was tracking something – something that would lead to Ashton Kind.
“Oh yeah? The carpenter was there for two months or more adding ramps and handholds. All kinds of stuff.”
“Just one carpenter?” he asked.
Imogene sipped her coffee and nodded. “That’s all was needed because he did a good job, just like I told the missus he would. I know his wife. We worked together in the maid service.” She chuckled to herself and leaned sideways toward Trudy, lowering her voice. “Him and Ida are wild as March hares. And they have stories to tell!” She took another drink of the iced
coffee, her eyes dancing impishly over the rim of the plastic cup. “It was fun working with Ida. She keeps life interesting. The owner of the maid service, a Mexican fella, used to tease us and say, ‘Ay, ay, ay!’ You know. Because of our names beginning with I.”
Trudy smiled and shared a quick, confirming glance with Levi. Imogene could well be the means of communication between the two murderers. Two young women approached their table, their shining eyes and shy smiles focused on Levi.
“Hi,” one of them said, blushing. “You’re Levi Wolfe, right? Will you take a picture with us?”
Levi looked from them to Trudy and she saw the resignation in his expression before he turned a smile on the girls. “Sure. What are your names? Are you from here?”
“I’m Janet and this is Stacy. We’re visiting from Portland. What happened to you? Did you get mugged?”
“Something like that.”
Trudy and Imogene watched as he stood and dutifully posed with each girl while the other snapped a phone photo. His noncommittal answers about why he had bruises on is handsome face wasn’t lost on Trudy. He had certainly honed his skills at being evasive, putting up walls, and deflecting questions he didn’t want to answer. Those skills had kept people from getting too close, even when they wanted to get to know him better.
“You two have a nice day,” he said, sitting down again and waiting for them to move on.
“Thanks.” Janet giggled. “We both think you’re super cool.”
“I appreciate that.” His smile had become coolly polite. The girls waved and slowly walked away, glancing over their shoulders a couple of times at him. “Sorry for the interruption,” Levi said to Imogene.
“That’s okay. I forgot that you’re kinda famous.” Imogene set down her now empty cup. “I gotta run. I’m on the clock, you know.”
“Oh, sure.” Trudy and Levi stood up with her. “It was nice seeing you again.”
She edged a little closer to Trudy. “Just so you know. Me and Doctor Dessie don’t believe in what you two do. Not like the missus. She falls for every cockeyed thing or oddball who crosses her path.” She straightened, her face turning a little pink as she realized she might have offended. “But to each his own, you know? I got nothing against you. Everybody’s got to make a few bucks to pay the rent.”
“I was under the impression that Desmond Forté does place some merit in our abilities,” Trudy said. Seeing as how the perv broke into my brain to make me watch him jerk off on Levi’s photo.
Imogene flapped a hand at her and laughed under her breath. “Naw. He told me you two were milking the missus.”
“Milking her?” Levi echoed.
Imogene rubbed her thumb over her forefingers in a greedy gesture. “Money. She’s rolling in it, as you probably know.”
“We didn’t charge anything for the séance,” Levi informed her with a stiff smile.
“No?” Surprise lifted her thin brows and confusion lowered them. “Why’d you do it for then?”
“Because she’s a client of Jazeem’s, who is a friend of ours,” Trudy answered.
Imogene gave a cagey wink. “Oh, right. The missus is always throwing money at that one.” She hoisted her basket onto her arm. When she spoke again, there was a haughtiness to her tone. “That séance was a good way to meet some of her fancy friends, though, huh? Maybe do special readings for them later? Maybe not for free?” She arched a brow in a gotcha! expression, then hunched her narrow shoulders. “But, like I said, it’s nothing to me what she does with her cash or what they do with theirs. Thanks for the coffee and sweet roll.”
“My pleasure,” Levi assured her. “Good-bye, Imogene.”
Trudy sat and finished her coffee, watching Imogene until she could no longer see her in the crowd. Levi eased his tall frame back into the chair opposite her. Sunlight speared the side of his face, making the bruising all the more noticeable.
“That was entertaining.”
“Imogene has a wild, even wicked streak,” Trudy mused. “Did you see the mischief dancing in her eyes when she talked of Ash and Ida and their rowdy ways? And I’ve seen those two in action.” She made a face of disgust. “Yeah, those two are beyond naughty. They’re down and dirty nasty.”
“And there’s Doctor Dessie,” Levi said, snarling the moniker. “Imogene admires him and his rascally personality. She’ll probably be astounded to discover that mischievous Dessie enjoys torturing and dismembering people.”
“She’ll probably never believe it.” Her attention shifted to outside to a young couple, their arms wound around each other as they walked slowly, whispering to each other, smiling, laughing. She hummed in contentment. “New Orleans really is an enchanting city. There’s so much life here!”
“And death.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Hey, sunshine, keep the dark clouds to yourself. I’m having a lovely moment here.”
He held up a hand in a sign of surrender. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “So, I think they’re passing notes through Imogene. What do you think?”
“It’s a definite possibility.”
“They could be sending Imogene letters and she brings them to work and gives them to Forté. Then she could mail anything Forté writes back to A.J.”
“Yes, that would definitely work. The police wouldn’t be checking Imogene’s mail, would they?”
Levi shook his head. “Especially if she mailed them from her home. And Imogene wouldn’t think that much about it. What did Elsa Jenkins say? Something about how Imogene would do anything for Forté or say anything for him?”
“Oh, yes. She said that Imogene would say that the sky is red if he told her to,” Trudy reminded him. “Wonder why Forté picked A.J. to be his protégé?”
“That’s anybody’s guess. He obviously sensed or knew somehow that A.J. had psychopathic tendencies.” He held out his hand to her. “Ready?”
“Yes.” She placed her hand in his and they left the coffee shop. “What now?”
“It’s a waiting game now, love.”
“I’m not very good at waiting.”
“Neither am I.” He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “But I know how to make the time go by faster.”
She laughed and squeezed his hand. “I was thinking we could take a dip in the heated pool.”
He nipped her earlobe. “Maybe after I take a dip in you.”
###
Two days crawled by with no word from the NOPD. Trudy took her journal with her to the pool where she sat on a lounge under an umbrella. Last night Levi had asked her if she remembered her first orgasm and it had put her on a train of memories that she wanted to record in her journal.
As she’d related to Levi, her first orgasm was nothing like the ones she’d experienced with him. She’d thought she’d had an orgasm until that first time with Levi. Any comparison was fruitless. What she’d assumed was coital bliss had been with Mark, her only other long-term couple relationship.
Before Mark, she’d dated Denny in her junior year of college. She and Denny went out a few times and one night after a couple of beers, she’d lost her virginity to him. It hadn’t been melodramatic or even that painful. A lot of groping and grinding, then an inner pinch of pain and a few drops of blood. Mission accomplished. A few more dates followed before she and Denny stopped trying to pretend that they still wanted to see each other.
Mark was different. Relatively content, Trudy had been ensconced in a nice apartment on the edge of downtown Tulsa, fresh out of college and working in her family’s pawn shop business. She hadn’t been bedeviled by nightmares except for maybe once or twice a year. She could handle that and she’d hoped that one day they’d stop altogether. Mark Franklin had come into the pawn shop to purchase a Fender Stratocaster guitar. He played in a band on weekends, but made a living working in a sporting goods store.
Good-looking and cocky, he was her height of five-feet-six-inches and had a complex about it. He desperately wanted to be at least five-ten. He wore sho
es with lifts and strutted more than walked. Dark blond and blue-eyed, he had a honeyed tongue. He’d complimented her on her knowledge of guitars and said that all his life he’d dreamed of a girl with red hair. She’d been ripe for the picking and he hadn’t hesitated.
After four dates, she was in his bed.
Six dates and she decided she must love him. He wanted her to move in with him, but she wouldn’t. She didn’t have the mettle back then to disappoint her parents by moving in with a guy. Or maybe the guy just wasn’t worth it.
Two months into it, she thought she orgasmed for the first time. Usually, Mark was quick on the draw. He always wanted her to give him head, but then it didn’t take him long to orgasm once they started making love. Never enough time for her. Since she’d never climaxed, she thought she might be one of those unfortunate women who just couldn’t. But, lo! One night Mark wasn’t as quick on the draw and she’d felt this tightness in her limbs and this fluttery feeling zinged through her before Mark finished and collapsed on top of her. An orgasm? She assumed it must have been because it was a feeling she hadn’t experienced before. She had similar feelings a few times after that.
By the sixth month of them being a couple, Trudy began having nightmares more frequently. Experiencing murders and then seeing them on the news a few days or weeks later began to unravel her nerves. She’d tried to explain to Mark what was happening to her. His reaction had been puzzlement and a suggestion that she go see a shrink or maybe medicate herself at night to knock herself out.
Things between them got frostier when he quit his job at the sporting goods store and went into partnership in a bar with one of his friends.
Good Times Bar and Grill was the beginning of Bad Times with Mark for Trudy. He began spending almost every waking minute at the bar. The band he was in played there Thursday through Saturday and drew a good crowd. Mark felt six feet tall.
Mark wasn’t interested in her psychic problems. He would cut her off when she talked about them, complaining that her “manic medium moments” were tiresome.
Eight months into the relationship, they’d both had enough of each other and agreed to “see other people.” Trudy was fairly certain Mark was already seeing other people, so saying it aloud was simply a formality.