by Judith Lucci
"Well," Elizabeth replied, "I'm certainly not interested in getting married or having any children any time soon, but I'd sure like to have a date."
Both women were laughing as one of Martin's cabs pulled up. Martin wasn't the driver, but his son-in-law, Henri was.
"Evening, ladies." Henri couldn't get out of the cab fast enough to open the door for Alex and Elizabeth.
His deferential manner always irritated Alex a little bit, but she figured she'd better keep her mouth shut at this point. She’s caused enough damage for one evening. I'd hate to lose Martin for good. He's dependable, and that's much more important than what it costs. Plus, she thought, I really like Martin and depend on him to teach me about the culture of New Orleans.
"Hi, Henri. Know Elizabeth Tippett? She works with me at CCMC."
Henri nodded and smiled in greeting.
"How's the family doing?" Alex knew all about Henri's wife who was Martin’s daughter, Violette. Martin was always entertaining her with stories about his family and his two-year-old grandson.
"Fine, fine. Everything's just fine. Martin said he's sorry he couldn't come back and get you, but he and his wife have a standing date on Wednesday nights. They go to Shoney's every Wednesday for the fish fry. You know, all you can eat. Then they go to the Casino in Kenner and gamble till late. You know, Martin, he plays them blackjack tables and his wife, she plays the slots. She was the big winner last week. Where to ladies?"
"I need to go to the Café Volange and Elizabeth needs to go home uptown. You can drop me off first. Okay with you, Liz?"
Elizabeth nodded.
"Okay. You've been having a terrible time over at the hospital, ain't you? I'm just so sorry. You know, that voodoo is some awful stuff, just awful bad when it catches you, ain't it?"
"Yeah. It’s awful. It's been hard. I'm out of here," Alex said as they pulled up in front of the café. "See you Elizabeth. Get some rest. Really appreciate you coming, Henri," Alex said as she slipped him a tip.
Chapter 13
As Alex shut the door of the cab and moved toward the restaurant, she noticed two men standing in a doorway. One man had a ponytail, and the other man was short and stocky and smoking a cigar. Something about the two of them gives me chill bumps, Alex thought. My imagination is certainly working overtime. I could swear that's the same man I saw earlier. Must be getting paranoid. She continued to feel uncomfortable as she felt the heat of their eyes following her as she passed. She could feel them tearing her body apart, limb by limb. Alex quickened her pace to the café.
Reaching the safety of the restaurant, Alex quickly forgot about the men when she spied Mitch sitting at a quiet table by a window. He looked startlingly handsome in a white open neck shirt and dark pants.
When he saw her, Mitch smiled broadly and rose from his chair. After clasping her hands and kissing her on the cheek, he said, "You're looking beautiful for a lady who's had a rough week. Sit, and let's have a drink. White wine?"
Alex warmed to the sight of Mitch’s smile. She already felt a million times better. "Of course. Mitch, you look just great. It feels like years since I've seen you, even though it's only been two days. This week seems like an eternity. I'm not sure it'll ever end."
Alex paused for a few moments while the waiter served their drinks. Then she continued, "I don't want to spend all evening talking about CCMC – I’ve been consumed with it for every waking hour. I'd rather hear what you've been doing. Any traveling?"
"Only back and forth to Lafayette and Baton Rouge. I've been researching some architectural designs for my project and had to travel back and forth to the historical library at the LSU campus." Mitch paused for a few moments and continued, “Actually, my week has been rather boring compared to yours. Research is a slow, tedious process but certainly useful. Sometimes I wish my work had a little more excitement.”
Alex smiled, “Well, I wish mine had a lot less and that I could do my job.”
“I bet,” Mitch responded. “As a matter of fact I watched the ED shoot-out news report on a TV in the research library. The library staff in Baton Rouge heard about the ED disaster at CCMC and projected it onto a big screen via a video projector. And, this morning, I caught you on TV. That’s some bad stuff going on over there. It never seems to let up. You guys need to catch a break.”
"You got that right. How'd I do on TV?" Alex gave him a questioning look. “Did I look OK,” she teased him.
"You were beautiful. Great. You and Elizabeth held your own. You both looked great as well. But, it seems like the plot at CCMC thickens. How're you dealing with it?" Mitch looked concerned and reached for Alex's hand.
Alex smiled wryly. "As best I can, I guess. It's really been incredible. Things have been crazy. Admissions are down, the staff isn't reporting to work and the patients are leaving in droves. We have some patients leaving against medical advice, and Don is about to commit hara-kiri. Physicians are admitting and transferring patients to other hospitals. Even the doctors who have exclusive contracts with us are scrambling to find reasons to admit their patients elsewhere. We are bleeding millions and I don't know when, or how, it'll end. In most respects, we're in a desperate situation."
Mitch gave her a concerned look and replied, "Can't last forever. It'll blow over soon. Heard on the evening news the governor's moving his wife to another hospital."
Alex interrupted him, "Oh no. That was on the news? Not good."
"It was the lead story. Reporter said it was the aftermath of the CCMC situation – particularly the medical center’s inability to offer quality care and security for their patients. They showed a news clip of Andre Renou and the governor saying they were extremely concerned about CCMC and had offered the assistance of the Louisiana State Police to boost security. Of course, the feds are involved too. By the way, did you hear about the People magazine story?”
Alex nodded. "Yep. Hell yes, I know all about it." She was very quiet after Mitch related the story. Deep in thought, she stared into her wine glass. She didn’t understand why the Governor had made a public statement about the situation at CCMC unless he wanted to go on record as being concerned about CCMC, perhaps even set the stage for closing CCMC. And, a bigger question was why he wanted to go on record. Of course, it had to be a political maneuver. Still, he'd agreed to give CCMC a week. While Alex knew that moving Grace Raccine to East Jeff was bound to get out, she hadn't expected it would already be on the local and national news. This information alone would further damage the credibility and finances of the struggling medical center, not to mention tarnish a perfect image as well. These thoughts depressed her and she was beginning to believe Crescent City Medical Center was a done deal when Mitch interrupted her thoughts.
"You look so sad. It couldn't be all that bad. You're not going to lose your job, or anything. Do you think security's good at the hospital? Do you think it’s safe? The hospital won't be harmed if people think it's a safe place."
Alex retorted hotly, "How in the hell do I know if the place is safe? It should be safer now than it was last week before any of these things happened but there are still a million things that can go wrong. I don’t think anywhere is ever safe if someone wants to hurt you. It’s like trying to keep the U.S. free from terrorists. There are plainclothes police officers all over, and the state police are at all outside doors, elevators, and stairways, like that's really going to keep someone out who wants to do harm. There are undercover DEA agents everywhere. The fact of the matter is that you and I know no place is really 'safe' if somebody wants to get at you. What do you think safe is?" Alex knew she was being sarcastic but she couldn't help it. Her fuse was very short and she didn’t want to talk about CCMC on her date.
Alex's words hurt Mitch. He held up his hands in a back-off gesture and said, "Sorry. You're really upset. Sorry if I'm prying. Didn't mean to upset you or cause more stress. Look at me. So sorry."
Alex felt her eyes burn with tears, and quickly reached for her pocketbook. As she dabbed her eye
s, she started apologizing. "I'm sorry, I never should've spoken to you that way. I guess I'm as out of control as the rest of the CCMC staff. Excuse me." Alex abruptly left the table and headed for the ladies room.
Mitch played with his napkin and studied his menu as he waited for Alex to return. His thoughts were equally sad. He struggled with his conscience. I feel so bad for her. I really wish I could just take her away from all of this, but I can’t because I am a big cause of it. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the “hoods” or “lowlifes” as he preferred to think of them, loitering on the opposite side of the street. The short one with the cigar waved at him and winked. The other glared. Mitch felt the weight of the world on his shoulders without considering the guilt he felt as he returned to his menu. He ignored the lewd hand gestures of the men hiding in the shadows.
Mitch began pondering his life, wondering how he'd become involved in such a desperate situation. With his family connections, an education, plenty of money, power, he had everything. But of course, that was all gone. He knew where it went - just didn't want to admit it to himself. His greatest loss was his self-respect. He felt empty inside. His self-loathing depressed him. He looked up, Alex was returning, a bright smile on her face.
"I’m better Mitch. I'll see if I can't control myself and behave for a while. What looks good on the menu?"
"Never had a bad meal here. Let's have another drink and order. What d' you say?" Mitch's eyes were sparkling.
"Sounds great,” Alex replied, smiling.
They concentrated on their food, carefully avoiding any further reference to the hospital. As they ate, they spoke at length about their plans for the weekend and discussed some options following Mardi Gras.
Over dessert, Mitch made a suggestion. “Come with me to Lafayette soon so you can have a before and after appreciation for the project. I'd like to get your opinion on some of the things I'm attempting to do."
Alex was pleased. "I'd love to see the project. It sounds great. Of course, you're just flattering me about helping you with ideas for the restoration. I don't know anything about architectural history."
"You amaze me. You underestimate yourself all of the time. You've got lots of talent in restoration, look at what you did to your home in the city. I'm not even mentioning your eye for antiques, quality and color. We'll make a weekend of it. I know a lovely bed and breakfast not far from the Arcadian project. We can stay there Saturday night and visit the antique shops in Lafayette on Sunday." Mitch felt a momentary happiness, and he became more animated as he looked forward to spending more time with Alex.
Alex smiled happily. "Sounds perfect. Count me in." Her voice was light, and her heart was skipping at the possibility of spending two consecutive weekends with Mitch. The thought made Alex more cheerful than she'd been in days. It was a great break from recent events.
"You're looking mighty happy, young lady. Want to share your thoughts with me?" Mitch reached for her hand, and smiled warmly.
Alex could feel her cheeks burning. She knew she was blushing. "Oh, Mitch. I don't really know...."
Mitch's grasp tightened over her hand. "I know what you're trying to say. Alex, I care for you very much. Soon you'll know how much. I have some things to get straight first, but then you'll know." Mitch's voice faded a little as he looked at her across the candles.
"I'm looking forward to being together more and knowing each other better. In the meantime,” she said briskly, "you'd better get me home so I can get my beauty rest and deal with the demons tomorrow."
Mitch leaned across the table and gave Alex a tender kiss. After a brief moment, they stood to leave.
***
The two men, hiding in the shadows, looked on. The gangster leered and made crude gestures. The evil one could have given a shit.
Frederico and the evil one continued to stare at the couple. "Well, well, well, look at our Mitchey boy. I do believe he's gonna nail the lawyer. About time. He's been playing around with the broad for months. Good thing we turned the heat up under him, ain't it? Otherwise, he'd have gotten close to her. Strange boy, our Mitchey. What’s wrong with him? He go both ways? Is he bi or queer?" Frederico looked at the evil one.
"I don't think Landry much cares who he's with, at least most of the time. Not particular about nobody or nothing once he hits the blackjack tables. He makes love to the roulette table. You give him enough time and enough credit and he's yours forever." Salvadal looked vaguely disgusted.
"Play's a good part. He's a charmer. I don't give a shit who or what he screws, snorts, or gambles with as long as he gets me my land. I need that land. Boys in Chicago are losing patience. I need the deal finished soon. We need that casino on the river - it’ll make us millions." Frederico's good humor was gone. His voice was ominous. "You get it, you bastard. That was the deal. I need that land soon." The gangster's small eyes glittered like those of a pig. His face was close to Salvadal's and he reeked of bad breath, rotten teeth and tobacco.
Salvadal pushed the gangster back against the wall. "Shut up, Frederico. Fuck you and get out of my face. Don't need any noise out of you. You and I both know what we want. You get close to me like that again and I’ll kill you. I'm handling things." As he spoke, his voice was soft and melodious.
Frederico watched him quietly. A shiver came over him. Damn, he's a weird motherfucker, the mobster thought. I've seen lots of spooks in my life, but there is something about this guy that just ain't right. He makes my blood run cold. Those were strange feelings for Frederico - fear wasn't a common emotion for him. He tried to remember what he'd had heard about the ponytail man. Not much. Only that he had international experience and was the best around. Frederico didn't know why the evil one was interested in CCMC or Bonnet. He just wanted the SOB out of his way. The gangster continued to think about the ponytailed man and became more and more uncomfortable. Be glad when this one's over, he thought. Must be getting old. He looked over at the ponytailed man and thought about killing him. He’s a crazy bastard, Frederico thought. He kills just for the fun of it. I kill for money. That makes us different.
Frederico backed off. "Okay, Okay, I got you. Let's go to Impastata's for a pasta snack and then pay pretty boy Mitch a visit when he gets home from his fancy date." Frederico watched the couple leave. "Either he's the best actor I've ever seen, or he's fallen for her. He’s such a sorry bastard. He better get us our info."
The evil one tightened his grip on the leather strap, and stretched it tautly from end to end. He said, "If he's not, he's dead."
Frederico nodded and the two men headed for Impastata's.
Alex and Mitch left Café Volange, looking like perfectly matched lovers. Both tall, well dressed and handsome, they were hugging and laughing as they made their way to Mitch's car.
As Mitch walked Alex to her door, she contemplated inviting him in for a nightcap. She decided to wait. She was too tired.
Before Mitch departed, he whispered in her ear, "Know I care for you very much, Alex. No matter what happens, I care."
Alex smiled up at him and quietly closed the door.
Chapter 14
Mitch returned to his loft apartment in the warehouse district feeling guilty and fearful about his relationship with Alex. Most of all, he was depressed about what he'd done and what he still had to do. He hardly noticed the celebration and conviviality of his beloved neighborhood.
Mitch had lived in the warehouse district for about two years, and loved the neighborhood's "eclectic" flavor. The warehouse district, frequently called the South's own Soho, was just steps from the French Quarter. The district was the artsy part of NOLA. It was filled with galleries, restaurants, and residences. The ambiance of the area matched Mitch's love of historic restoration and art, good food and nightlife. The obvious downfall was its proximity to the New Orleans riverfront casinos that sang a siren song for Mitch.
Mitch's gambling had placed him in trouble before. His family, affluent in New Orleans for many years, had bailed him out of
his gambling debts numerous times, but had finally drawn the line several years ago. He'd entered treatment for his gambling addiction three times, only to fail. His family had nearly disowned him, and he saw them only on holidays and at special family events.
He parked his car and entered the lobby of the renovated warehouse that housed his apartment. Frederico and the man with the ponytail he recognized from the restaurant appeared out of an alcove in the rear of the building. Mitch casually reached to his belt and snapped on his tape recorder.
Frederico's voice was terse and ugly. "Talk us up Mitchy boy … we need to do some serious talking."
It was obvious that Frederico had a gun, but the ponytailed stranger with the leather strap was more threatening. Mitch pressed the button for the antique brass elevator. The ride up to the top seemed endless since no one spoke.
Frederico entered the loft and centered himself on the sofa. He relit his wet, slimy, cigar while the ponytailed man stood at the door.
"What do you got for us Mitchy? We've been real patient. Is the broad singing yet?" Frederico spoke in his best Chicago tough guy voice.
"Don't have much now, but I'll get it soon."
"You were supposed to have it by now … we gave you an extra week. Going to deliver or what?"
Mitch felt desperate. "It's been harder than I thought. Alex has a lot of ethics. She's also smart and doesn't talk as freely as I thought. I've been playing it kind of low, so she wouldn't be suspicious. Besides, you know what's happening over there. Things are in chaos. Things have to be going your way. You’re responsible for all those 'accidents' at CCMC. Isn’t this what you want? You guys are really low. Murder, for God's sake. You stop at nothing."