by Julie Smith
In the end she had a list of five. She could call them, but a little background wouldn't hurt. She dialed the Times-Picayune and asked for Eileen Moreland.
"Skippy Langdon. You must want something." Moreland had the world-weary air of a reporter from Central Casting.
"You know me, Eileen. I'd never take advantage of our friendship. "
"What friendship? You ask me for clips and I give them to you. You make me promises and you don't deliver."
"Let me say the magic word. 'Arthur Hebert'."
"Arthur Hebert what?"
"I don't know yet. But something when the case breaks. Something for your column. I'll take notes."
"Oh, sure. Just like always."
"Lunch, then."
"How about fixing my parking tickets?"
"How about lunch?"
"Oh, forget it. You'd probably stand me up. What do you want anyway?"
"Clips on five churches."
Eileen sighed. "Shoot."
As it happened, there were clips on only one: Blood of the Lamb Baptist, which was renowned for its fine Gospel choir.
Skip said, "Maybe you could introduce me to the religion editor."
"Stanley? Oh, all right."
She could tell Eileen was done with her. One day she really would have to give her a decent news tip.
There were a few seconds of silence, then some rings, and finally a high male voice. "Detective Langdon, this is an honor. How may I assist you?"
A godly man indeed. I wish more people thought it was an honor.
She asked for a rundown on the five churches.
Three—including Blood of the Lamb—were established neighborhood churches. The other two he knew nothing about.
"But I've got a hunch about Great Mount Precious." (Full name: Great Mount Precious Lamb of God.) "Why don't you check it out?"
"Check it out for what?"
"What are you looking for?"
"A recent convert. A born-again who may have pretty much devoted her life to the group."
"Oh. That kind of church. More or less a cult."
"I'm not sure."
"Check out the Precious one. I don't think it's what you want, but it might be something you never saw before. Maybe they pray to St. Expedite." He chuckled delightedly. "I know I do."
"I'm going over right now and light a candle to him."
She hung up, thinking she would if she knew how. She could use a little help of the sort he was said to supply. St. Expedite, unknown to the Vatican, had arrived in New Orleans in a box, some time long ago. That is, a statue in a saintly robe had, and the box was stamped "Expedite." The polytheists who passed for Catholics in New Orleans had clasped him joyously to their bosoms and the statue stood big as life, even now, in a church on North Rampart Street.
Having been brought up Episcopalian, Skip didn't quite know how to pay homage to him. In lieu of a candle, she wrote the word "expedite" over her list of lamb churches and started phoning them.
The first three were the ones Stanley had known about. At all three she talked with a nice machine that said its owner would call back.
At Great Mount Precious she got another machine: giving only the time of Sunday's service.
At the last one, Blood of the Lamb Divine Evangelical Following, she talked to a woman who said she'd get back to her.
By the end of the day, calls had been returned and she was singularly unimpressed, as Stanley had predicted, with the first three. Nice church ladies had looked up records and said no Evelyne Hebert had ever been a member, and furthermore, two out of the three had said they'd have known her if she had. The third one indicated that if Evelyne were white, she would probably have been pretty conspicuous and might not have even been welcome.
All three could have been lying, but the last two churches looked a great deal more promising.
She never did get anyone at Great Mount Precious. That made it attractive, like ice cream on a diet.
And the church lady at Blood of the Lamb Divine Evangelical Following hadn't been nice. That made her attractive.
Besides that, she wouldn't give out even the tiniest bit of information, would only make Skip an appointment to see the pastor—Sunday at three.
Skip went home feeling almost relaxed—it was Friday and she was about to have a day off St. Expedite could take over for the next twenty-four hours. When she had sworn to learn to meditate(a task at which she'd been less than successful), she'd also tried her hand at visualizing. That was easier. In fact, she could do it with her eyes open and her mind on her driving. She tried it now, seeing the gentle saint's foot come slowly back, disappear behind his robe, then come forward quickly, displacing the robe, causing it to flip up unabashedly—delivering a good swift kick to the butt of her problem.
"Steve? Oh, Steve, " she hollered, unlocking the door. She wanted some kicks of her own—dinner and some music, say. Or skip the music, maybe just a walk by the river.
No one answered. Maybe Steve was at the Big House.
Jimmy Dee answered the door. "Darling! Thank God. I've been dying of boredom. Your bear took the kids and the animal out for a romp. The quiet is piercing my eardrums."
"Shall I shriek and bark a little?"
"If I'd known you were into leashes, I'd have gotten you one with rhinestones."
"How about getting me some lovely white wine?"
"Well, aren't we the libertine."
But he got it, and a glass for himself as well.
"Let's go in the front parlor, shall we? Geneese never dusts it, but on the other hand the monsters never enter it—an excellent trade—off in my opinion."
The curtains were drawn. It seemed almost gloomy, a word she'd never associated with the Big House.
"It's deathly quiet."
Dee-Dee sighed. "How values change. I was actually lonely, can you fathom it? You'd think I would have been thrilled."
"Where's Layne?"
"Damn that man-mountain of yours! He's ruined my life."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Dee-Dee."
"Well, he has. He brought that wretched animal into the house, and the minute he did, my whole world disintegrated."
"Oh, no. You mean the allergy."
"Kenny adores the dog. He's a new child—a dry child, I might add, if you take my meaning. Sheila adores the dog as well. For once they agree on something. They're almost civil to each other, they're so pathetically eager to feed the little thing and take care of it, no doubt proving themselves worthy so nasty old Uncle Jimmy doesn't send it back to the pound where I cordially wish it had met its demise."
"Dee-Dee!"
"It's ruining my house! All my beautiful renovations—gone. Chewed to rags and ribbons."
"Well, they were just for the kids anyway."
"I am a homosexual, in case you haven't heard. I need smothering, fussy decor, or I swoon."
Usually he only did the swish act when he thought Skip was depressed. Today it had a different quality—she thought he was avoiding something.
"I have this weird feeling there's more."
"You asked where Layne was?"
"Oh, no. I don't think I can stand it."
"Well, he hasn't dumped me yet. But he may—over that precious little Angel."
"He's really, really allergic?"
"Yes. He has to take about four pills even to come over here, and by then he's so loaded he falls asleep over dinner. Do you know how rare it is to be allergic to a dog? Cats, no surprises. But hardly anybody's allergic to dogs."
"You'd think he'd have noticed it before."
"Oh, he's not allergic to dogs. Never been allergic to dogs in his life. Only Angel."
"The name stuck, I guess."
"I guess. Nobody's come up with anything else."
"Oh my God, if you haven't, you must be depressed."
He grinned ever so slightly. "Well, Angel kind of fits her."
"How serious is this Layne thing?"
"I guess it's too soon to tell. We
've only had the damn dog a couple of days. He's called an allergist, but he hasn't seen her yet."
"That wasn't what I meant."
"Oh. You mean Layne and me. Do I ask you personal questions?"
"Now and then. Whenever the laryngitis clears up."
"Remember that time I said you'd never seen me in love? I warned you, didn't I? It's not a pretty sight."
"Oh, don't be so dramatic. If it can't conquer an allergy, it's not love."
"Well, listen to the expert. Miss Give-Up-Your-Career-and-Come-to-Me-or-Else. "
Skip felt the blood come to her cheeks. "Go ahead, Dee-Dee—bring up the stupidest thing I ever did in my life."
"You didn't do anything I'm not capable of. You were afraid you'd lose him—it's a feeling with which I'm familiar."
"So I dumped him so he couldn't hurt me first." Her face felt like a griddle. "Brilliant."
"Not to mention kind, understanding, and loyal."
She winced. "Dee-Dee, don't. The wound's too fresh."
"I'm sorry, Tiny One. I forget you're only tough on duty."
"Anyway, maybe I learned something from it."
"What? Not to be scared? Not to do anything stupid when you're scared? We all think we've learned that one, but it keeps coming back. I don't know if there's anything to compare with the fear that you might lose somebody you love."
He looked so miserable Skip wanted to hug him like he was Kenny's age.
"Well, I might have learned specific things not to do. Like try to replace him with somebody else just because I'm scared shitless."
"You're not going to say, 'even though men do that all the time'?"
"Come to think of it, I guess that's what Darryl was doing. Maybe not quite that—for him it was a rebound thing."
"There's fear in that too—the fear that never goes away. That you'll get sick and you'll be alone. That you'll die alone."
She felt her throat closing. She thought of lim and his two wives and two sets of children.
At least he wasn't alone.
Yes, he was. When he died, he was alone.
I wasn't there.
"What is it, Venus? What's wrong?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. It's a sad thought, that's all. Dying alone."
"You've got me," he said, and she knew he wanted to take her hand but wouldn't.
"I know."
"And I've got you. I know that, you don't have to say it, but do you mind if I vent for a minute?"
"Sure." But she was puzzled, having no idea what was coming. "'Well, you could marry the man-mountain."
"What! And make you miserable?" Though things were better since Layne's arrival, the tension between Dee-Dee and Steve would always be there.
"It's just theoretical, darling. You could marry him. I mean, it's legal."
She was beginning to get his drift. "Dee-Dee, for Christ's sake—you're pining for a white wedding? Sheila as bridesmaid and Kenny as ring-bearer?"
"Cruel, cruel beast."
She could see he wasn't offended, but for form's sake she said she was sorry.
"Oh, I'm just carping. I'm not much into the politics of it all. If Layne and I wanted to own property together, we could. I could leave my oh-so-modest fortune to him—only now there are Sheila and Kenny.
"And you, of course. The city's so broke, you're going to need help even if you make chief. " He got back to the original subject: "What I'm talking about is more an angst kind of thing."
"About being gay." He'd never expressed the slightest dissatisfaction with it, even though she knew he was in the closet at work. "The truth is, I don't know if I'd feel comfortable living with Layne, even if I didn't have the kids. You know how I sometimes take a female date to parties? Like Your Tininess, for instance. And now with the kids, would it really be the best thing? I mean, would Kenny's little friends call him a queer and stuff?"
"Dee-Dee, Kenny's lost both parents. Compared to that, it doesn't seem all that important."
"But that's the point! His life's been hard, and now he's in an alien world—I don't want to make it any worse."
"Okay, so let's see if I'm getting this right. You're upset because Layne's allergic to Angel, and also because you can't marry him, but mostly because it wouldn't look too good to live with him. Does that about cover it?"
"Oh, Ming the Merciless. How can you?"
"I'm just trying to get the lay of the land."
Dee-Dee put a hand over his mouth. "I will not make any cheap jokes." She could see he was cheering up. "God, I'm unattractive when I get like this!"
"Oh, you are not, Dee-Dee."
"I don't know what comes over me, I just get these pathetic longings."
"Give yourself a break. The average person Wants to be able to get married and have the same rights as anybody else—"
"God, you sound doctrinaire."
"Now you're going to trivialize it?"
"Hey! Let's hear it for queers. I'm certainly not going to trivialize it." He looked sheepish. "But about my pathetic longings—"
"What's pathetic about them?"
"I only get them when things are going great."
"So the truth comes out. Things are going great, are they?"
"Well, they were until the sneezes started. This could cause real babysitting problems, do you realize that? I mean, if I can only go over there."
"So take the kids. They can play some of Layne's games."
"Oh, enough. How's your love life?"
"You certainly have a short attention span."
"Cough it up."
A wave of regret broke over her. "Great, except he's leaving in a few days."
"Well, gather ye rosebuds and all that."
"The other night I saw Darryl with another woman. I had a pang, I have to admit it."
"Hussy."
"Hasn't it ever happened to you? Being with somebody you love, but attracted to someone else that you know wouldn't be right for you, and anyway the other one's the one you're committed to, but you sort of can't resist anyway? It's like you're hypnotized or something; or under some evil spell."
"You terrify me, darling. My bones are absolutely rattling with fear. No! I cannot do it again. When I think of what I just went through with you! The way you moped for weeks after you tossed aside your bear like a hamster—"
"I'm not going to do anything, Dee-Dee. I'm just talking about the way I feel"
"Let me tell you something, Thumbelina. It's damned dangerous talk."
She knew it was. Darryl exerted a powerful pull on her, she didn't know why. And he was around a lot. During that turbulent period, he'd gotten to know the kids and they adored him. He flirted when he came around too.
20
Reed heard a key in the lock. Her body stiffened. Anna Garibaldi again. Perhaps she could talk Anna into letting her have a minute with Sally, even letting her see Sally, just for a moment, even a moment.
Maybe she should offer her money.
It sounded as if Anna was fumbling; funny, she didn't seem the type. And then Evie, not Anna, fell into the room under a heavy weight.
Sally.
The child, struggling in Evie's arms, had apparently thrown her off balance. Evie had a hand clasped over Sally's mouth, which meant she had had to negotiate the lock with the hand that balanced Sally in her arms—no easy task. She closed the door quickly by banging her butt against it.
When she took her hand from Sally's mouth, Reed saw that the child's face was red with fingerprints, but it seemed trivial at the moment. Sally was here and unharmed.
"Mama. Mama." Evie released her and she ran to Reed, who had only one arm to pick her up, the other being handcuffed once again to her chair.
"Oh, baby. Baby, baby, baby."
Evie said, "Reed, I'm sorry."
Sorry!
Sally was cuddling like a monkey, trying to wrap herself around Reed tight enough to stick if anyone tried to pry her off. But like Reed, she had only one hand right now; her right thumb wa
s in her mouth. And Sally didn't suck her thumb.
"I got drunk. I'm really sorry. I can't believe I could be so stupid."
Reed fought down all the ready answers to that one. She felt her hand on Sally's soft cheek, the pressure of the child's legs around her. "Evie. Whats going on here?"
"I don't know what happened. I just—"
"Evie, work with me. Please!"
Evie glanced at the door. "You're right. I don't know how much time we have." She dropped her voice. "Anna's on the phone—she left her keys in my room when she went to take the call. Somethings wrong with her; shes not acting normal. When the call came through, she kind of went berserk."
"You're involved with these people?"
She glanced at Reeds handcuffs. "Not really. But they know me here, so they let me out now and then—when they need a babysitter. Basically, I'm locked in a room most of the time, but, see, Anna's got this thing for Sally—it's like shes some frustrated grandma who just found something to love. I don't know—shes just gaga over the kid—so sometimes she lets me out to take care of her for a little while, if she has to go out for a few minutes."
"She's let you out before and this is the first time you've brought her to me?"
"You don't understand. This is the first time I haven't had somebody watching me like I was about to steal the silver. There's these guys—these real big guys."
"They're here now?"
"They're always here."
So much for any thoughts of making a break for it.
"What is this place?"
"My boyfriends house."
"Well, who is your boyfriend? Gus Lozano?"
"He's this really nice man. A lawyer . . . Her eyes filmed over and her voice dropped to a whisper. "But somethings off; somethings way off." Again she glanced at the door. "Let me just check something."
She opened the door and stepped out for a moment. She came back nodding. "She's still talking. I'd better take Sally back."
"No." Reed squeezed the child against her, and Sally, instinctively, hugged her tighter as well. "You took my baby for this frustrated grandmother? Did you sell her? Is that whats happening here?"
Evie looked horrified. "Oh, no. Oh, no, it wasn't that."
"Well what?"
"I was just She paused, apparently trying to get her thoughts together about what had happened. "I don't know, I was just incredibly stupid. Thats all."