Where The Devil Won't Go: A Lucas Peyroux Novel

by E. J. Findorff

She did as instructed, having a flashback of the greasy detective that had questioned her in an interrogation room after shooting her father.

  “You look like you should be on the cover of Vogue. Any particular reason?”

  “I needed a change.”

  “The cops questioned us about Vince and the murdered girl that worked here.” He waited for Cozy to respond, but she didn’t. He continued. “I noticed you were conveniently absent. Tabitha said you were going to be late.”

  “Yeah, had an errand.”

  “You want to tell me why the cops showed me a picture of you.”

  She twitched a bit, but then collected herself. “Vince followed me to the Moon Walk last night and we talked a while. I suppose there could have been a witness or a security camera.”

  He spoke in a conversational tone. “And the picture he showed me? How’d that come to be in his possession?”

  “My drug addict mother gave them pictures when I ran away. With all my petty bullshit, they don’t like me very much.”

  Ray stood and rounded the desk, stepping behind Cozy. His hands rubbed her shoulders. This time, the grip threatened her collarbones. “Can you imagine how I feel about cops questioning me in my own office?”

  “They aren’t after you or me, right? They’re investigating Vince.”

  His manicured nails sunk deeper. “They asked me about one of my dancers who also turned up dead. And they asked about you.”

  “I can’t be blamed for Vince following me.” She resisted pulling out the switchblade to cut off each finger embedding in her flesh.

  “Is there anything else you’re not telling me, Keri? Anything at all?”

  “Who’s clean in this business, Ray? I used to shoplift. I stole things. I made bad decisions. Ray, you’re hurting me.”

  “Sorry.” Ray let go and nodded with a flat expression. “I had to tell them I recognized you, because one of the staff was sure to say they saw you dancing.”

  “I understand. I’ll leave.”

  “Relax. I have an alternate plan but only if you’re on board.” Ray returned to his chair.

  “You know I am.” Her shoulders and neck burned from the release of pressure.

  “I’m going to call this detective and tell him you showed; I confronted you and then you quit. We’ll make it a point to have the staff see you walk out pissed. As far as I’m concerned, you just vanished.”

  “Why not just say I never showed?”

  “Too suspicious for you to go missing after I get questioned about you. Especially with Vince and Haley.”

  “So, I’m done here?”

  “Not quite. I like how you took care of our VIP the other day.”

  “Putting your mouth on a dick isn’t exactly rocket science.”

  “Don’t devalue your talents. If you dodge jail time, I can use you for private parties and it’s very lucrative. There’s a party being held at a plantation house on River Road the night after tomorrow. Some very rich men will be there and I supply the entertainment.”

  She brightened. “A Civil War, real life plantation? Really?”

  “Yes. You and four of the girls will be classed up with elegant evening dresses.”

  She questioned, “Just four of us?”

  “There will be other girls from around the state.”

  “Cool. So, what’s my cut?”

  He smiled like a proud father. “All goes well? Could be three grand. I’m afraid I have to ask a personal question.”

  “Can’t imagine what you’d consider personal.”

  “You can’t attend a party during your time of the month… Unless we have a guest who requests it, of course.”

  “Ew. No problems, there.”

  “Good.”

  “So, if I wasn’t on board, you’d play the cop card and blackmail me?”

  “That’s not my style. It’s this, or I wish you well. You impressed the organizer of this party. He wants you.”

  “So, how do I end up all gussied up?”

  “Your outfits will be supplied to you at the mansion. But, tomorrow evening when Tabitha’s done with the books, she’ll take you shopping at Canal Place for a nice dress to arrive in. You two can have dinner anywhere in the city – on me. Now leave like you’re upset, and be sure to bitch that you’re quitting to the bartender.”

  “Okay.”

  “Oh, and Keri, be careful with your body. No bruises or cuts. Clean yourself thoroughly. You have a chance to make a lot of money.”

  “Consider me a China Doll.” She beamed at being invited to a party that had Haley’s killer as a guest. Would this be the party where they take her for good and sell her to the highest bidder? Or would she net two or three grand and walk away? She understood how easily these women could fall into this hole.

  Chapter 29

  Instead of hitting the firing range this morning; I headed straight into the station. Raymond Corondelet sat on one of the outside benches wearing tight designer jeans and a form-fitted T-shirt. Sunglasses hid his eyes, but he seemed alert. He stood and waited for me to reach him.

  “Ray, this must be an early morning for you.”

  He shook my hand. “I don’t sleep much. I suppose that’s the case with most business owners.”

  “You want to talk inside? Or grab a coffee?”

  “That won’t be necessary. Right here is fine.”

  “What brings you by?”

  “Keri Sullivan came in and quit last night.” He took of his sunglasses and sat back down.

  “Wait – she showed up and you didn’t call me?”

  “There wasn’t enough time.” Ray looked up at me, apparently exasperated.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Honestly? I’m a bit of a hot head. It’s gotten me into trouble before. The more I thought about Keri being involved with the police and possibly Vince’s murder, the more I stewed. She came in about ten. I confronted her about being with Vince… About the police questioning me, and she ran out of my office before I could stop her.” He paused. “She was gone. It wouldn’t have done any good to call you so late.”

  “Why confront her at all?”

  “My temper, I told you. I’m used to making the decisions. I run things. I wanted my own answers and that was a mistake. I apologize. What else can I say?”

  Liar. I reached out and gripped his hand in a tight single shake. “I appreciate your coming down to tell me, Ray. She might keep in contact with someone on your staff. Tell them to let you know if Cozy contacts them, and then you call me – at any hour.

  “Naturally.”

  #

  The case had gotten sticky and far from linear. I sat at my desk surrounded by my notes and the pictures of the Robicheaux sisters. It was possible Cozy, a.k.a. Keri Sullivan, had seen us parading around Molly’s last night and made herself scarce, but I had a hunch that Ray might be protecting his new investment. I don’t buy the ‘wasn’t thinking’ bullshit. Ray wanted us off his trail.

  Dr. Jerry hadn’t called me yet on Ashton’s fingerprints like he had promised and the DNA results hadn’t come in from the lab, which was always less than expedient. The NOPD was forced to use the slowest crime labs in the country and, due to that, had the worst conviction rate. I’d be lucky if that glass didn’t end up in one of the lab worker’s kitchen cabinet.

  My desk phone rang. Again, it was the uniform at reception downstairs.

  “What’s up, Ted?”

  “Seems you’re a popular guy. There’s a Ms. Mozart down here to see you.”

  “Mozart?”

  “Sure, why not?” he asked, deadpan.

  “I’ll be right down.”

  One of the dancers from Molly’s fidgeted as I popped into the reception area. The tattoo of a snake wrapping around her neck gave her away. She waved with a weak smile, wearing smart reading glasses, jeans and a Neville Brothers T-shirt. Her hair was pulled back with a scrunchie.

  “I’m sorry. What’s your name again?” I asked.

>   “Sophie. I was hoping we could talk somewhere private.”

  “Sure, let’s go next door and get a coffee.”

  We crossed over to a beignet place and found an open table hidden from the street by a tree in a planter. She had been reluctant to tell Tara anything at the club, but clearly something was on her mind. I ordered two coffees at the counter while she ripped a napkin into tiny strips. At the club, make up applied like cake frosting had covered many imperfections on an otherwise plain face, however sitting here; she could very well be a college student.

  I placed the coffees down and sat, waiting for her to speak.

  “I know Ray just left.”

  “You followed him here?”

  “Sort of. I knew he was coming here. I was just with him.” She ripped another strip from the napkin.

  I sipped my coffee, making this conversation as easy as possible for her. “You two involved?”

  “Better shifts, more protection.”

  “He told me Keri showed last night.”

  “She did. I saw her leaving pissed off. I want to clarify some things.”

  “I imagine you couldn’t speak freely at the club?”

  “I won’t testify to anything. I’ll deny this conversation.” Her eyes were on me, despite facing forward.

  “Sure. We’re just talking over coffee.”

  “I thought I could keep this to myself, but it’s about to happen again.” Another perfectly torn strip.

  “What?”

  “Is this off the record?” Her deep brown eyes continuously scanned the street.

  “This isn’t an official statement. We have many informants that give us information and don’t get involved.”

  She took a break from her napkin for a careful sip of her coffee. “I know what Haley Robicheaux was doing the night she was murdered.”

  “Go on.”

  “I don’t know how she was murdered or who did it, but I know why she was in the river.” She waited a beat, but I kept my mouth shut. “Ray supplies women to these uber-secret parties. The guests arrive like everything is on the up-and-up, but there’s some crazy shit that goes on.”

  “You know who throws these parties?”

  “No. But there’s this guy that comes in the club once and a while. It seems the parties coincide with his visit, put together in just days. I guess to prevent word of mouth. This one party with Haley was at a warehouse on the river. There have been other parties where the girls don’t come back, but this is the first one that turned up dead.”

  “If I show you a picture of the guy, could you identify him?”

  “Sure, but I won’t do it in a line up.”

  I pulled out my cell and went online, pulling up an image of Harry Winslow. “Is this the guy?”

  “No, that’s not him.”

  I hid my disappointment, wishing I had pictures of all his employees. “Okay. What other girls were working the party that night?”

  “Don’t know. The girls are told not to talk about it. I don’t want another girl to end up dead. It could be any one of us.”

  “How many parties have there been?” I handed her my napkin to continue her nervous habit.

  “I know of three. From what I hear, any deep south politician worth their weight in corruption has been to one.”

  I patted her hand. “There’s no way anyone will track this information back to you. I don’t think you’ll be in harm’s way for telling me.”

  Her eyes dropped. “You’d think.”

  “Would Ray hurt you?”

  She didn’t answer.

  I asked, “Do you think Ray killed Haley?”

  “I think he could have, but I don’t think he did.”

  “Why?”

  Her eyes darted around. “Two reasons. One, Haley was a money-maker.”

  “So, her hours weren’t being cut back?”

  “Hell, no. She was one of our most popular girls.” She smiled for the first time. Her overbite was cute.

  “And Ray let her keep all the money she made?”

  She surprised herself with a full laugh, putting her hand over her mouth. “Oh, no. Haley danced under the ‘no questions asked’ option, which meant Ray probably took half her take.”

  “I see. And the second reason?”

  “If Ray killed her, you wouldn’t have a body.” She balled up the strips of napkin and looked into her lap. “I stopped getting close to the girls because they just come with too much baggage and then when you like one, they just stop coming to work.”

  “What’s Ray say about these girls that don’t come back?”

  “He preaches the unpredictability of troubled girls in this industry. How can you argue?”

  “Why do you stay?”

  “Money. That, and I’m not the brightest bulb. After this, my options will be the fast food industry.”

  “Go back to school with your money.”

  “I appreciate the effort. As stupid as it sounds, I dream of a fairytale ending where a lonely man with money – ugly, fat, I don’t care – a man that adores me for I how I make him feel will tell me he loves me and wants to take me away to be his wife.”

  “Like that movie.”

  “Sounds pathetic with feminism and all, but I would treat him like a king. I would like that.”

  Our conversation ran dry of information, but I wanted to keep her close. “You think you can find out where the next party is being held and when, without putting yourself in danger?”

  Her fingers needed a new napkin to tear apart. “I’ll try to bring it up casually, but I won’t ask directly. If someone says something, I’ll let you know.”

  “That’s all I can ask.”

  #

  Many elements from the case were beginning to gel, but I feared everything rested on the next party Ms. Mozart had confided to me. I told Tara of my recent visit with Ray and the dancer, as she worked a different case. Just after returning to my desk from a delicious lunch, I received a restricted call on my cell.

  I answered while paying more attention to my laptop. “Peyroux.”

  “You can’t trace this. I’m on a burner.”

  The hairs on my neck stood on end like a ghost brushed past. “Cozy?”

  “I got one question and you need to answer me honestly. My life depends on it.”

  “Ask me.”

  “I know you questioned Ray and Tabby at Molly’s. Did you tell them my real name?”

  “No. As far as they’re concerned, you’re Keri Sullivan.” I quickly typed the name Keri Sullivan into the database, realizing there were five ways to spell that name.

  “Good. It’s possible they know who I am, but I can’t be sure.”

  My fingers ran through my hair. “Cozy, you can’t play that game. Tell me where you are. You are in way over your head.”

  “Just outside Shreveport. I don’t want to die. I’m going to Canada and never coming back.”

  “Really? You made it to the north side of Louisiana after just quitting Molly’s Girls late last night? Without your car.” I finally rocked back in my chair to let the conversation happen.

  “I stole one. Drove through the night.”

  “You’re lying, Cozy. Did you kill Titus?”

  “Titus was rapist and a drug dealer.”

  I waited a beat. “I know what you’re going through.”

  “Their payment to the legal system is very different from their payment to me.”

  “Let me help you, Cozy. You trust me to do that, right?”

  “I do, Lucas. But, I have one more question.”

  “What is it?” I rubbed my eyes.

  “Why did you pull away from me when I hugged you?”

  This time I hesitated. “… Because I really wanted to hug back. It scared me.”

  “We ever meet again, Lucas; I won’t let you pull away.”

  “Let’s meet now, Cozy.” My elbows fell forward onto my desk.

  “Goodbye, Lucas.”

  The phone went d
ead and my body coiled, ready to spring into action, yet there was nothing to be done.

  Chapter 30

  Evening had fallen as dinner at Antoine’s continued on longer than a meal should. Cozy and Tabby left arm-in-arm after the rain had subsided, strolling on the wet slate of Jackson Square, adding movement to the dark patches of shadows. Several pockets of kids stood around as if planning something sinister, but this was just their Friday night. Dates held hands in no rush for the night to end. Cozy envied them.

  “Thanks for letting me stay on your couch,” Cozy said.

  Tabby leaned into her as they walked. “No problem. You ever hold a black light to those motel sheets?”

  “I imagine it would look like the Emerald Room.”

  “Touché. We should have added another hundred dollar bottle of wine to take with us.”

  Cozy moaned, saliva rushing into her mouth at the mere memory. “The food and wine were so good and so expensive.”

  “Get used to the nicer things.”

  Cozy put her arm around Tabby’s waist and kissed her cheek, which sent them reeling a few feet to the left. “I like you, Tabby-cat.”

  “Ditto.”

  Once inside Tabby’s surprisingly large two-bedroom apartment on Royal Street, she uncorked another bottle of wine as Cozy toured the local art on display. Posters of past Mardi Gras hung next to each other. Brightly colored African art sat perched on shelves. Tabby hadn’t felt the need to fill every space with furniture or knick-knacks. There was room to breathe.

  They relaxed on the plush, cream sofa with unobtrusive, soft music filling in the silent moments. They chatted about the inspirations for art and music, keeping their glasses topped off. When the conversation wore thin, Cozy snuggled to her side and sang to the music while leaning back on Tabby’s arm.

  Tabby inhaled the scent of her hair. “You’re just a babe.”

  “It’s all relative.” Cozy reached over for her last sip of wine on the nightstand. “We killed two bottles.”

  “You want a third?”

  Cozy put her glass down and faced this worldly lady, staring with drunken eyes into a striking deep well of brown.

  “You’re not even twenty yet.” Tabby said, examining every contour of Cozy’s face.

  “And yet, I’ve lived a lifetime.”