by Jim Riley
Niki gave her a quizzical glance.
Donna giggled again. "Remember, nobody pays any attention to me. They act like I'm too young or too blonde to comprehend anything. I don't mind. I play along with them so they keep talking in front of me like I'm not there."
"Play along?"
“Like Tuesday,” the young lady responded. “Mr. Johnson told me some files needed tidying up. He meant that some of the guys shoved papers in them out of order, and he wanted me to make sure they would pass an audit. I knew what he meant, but I asked him, 'Do you want me to use Windex or regular soap?' He just rolled his eyes and walked off. I haven't touched those files yet.”
Niki laid the down file and closed it.
"I know how you feel. When Johnson was talking with me, he was doing more than talking. I felt like a prime steak in the butcher shop window. I could tell there was no respect there. That's why I gave him a rough time."
Donna eyes brightened. "What did you do? Tell him he knew about him and Mrs. Wilson?"
Niki's mouth dropped. "How in the world do you know about that? Didn't they keep it a secret?"
Donna laughed. "Everybody that calls in here has to call the main number. That's me. Then I put the calls through to the right extension. Sometimes, when I think it might get interesting, I forget to hang up. I hear the whole conversation. I've heard some mighty interesting things in my short time here."
Niki remembered something she found in her crash course on investment advisory firms. "Aren’t all the phone calls recorded? Don't they do that in case there is a dispute about a stock order?"
"Yes, Ma'am. But nobody here knows how to access the system. They forget it even exists, or they wouldn’t say some things."
"How can I get access?"
Donna looked around to make sure nobody else could hear them in Wilson's office.
"Just ask me."
"You know how?" Niki quit reading the file.
"It's not that hard. I only had the give the IT guy the impression that I was halfway interested in his knowledge of systems. He told me more than I ever he wanted to know." She rolled her eyes. "He's such a geek, but he's a sweet geek. I hope he finds a girl one day."
"Gee, you're a wealth of information. Why did you want access to the recording system?"
"Just in case," the receptionist replied.
"In case of what?" Niki pressed.
"In case I needed it. You can never tell when you may need something."
Niki knew this was as close as she could get to an answer from the bright young lady. She refocused the questions.
"You were telling me the only reason Howard wasn't fired is because he is Mr. Johnson's nephew. Was Howard aware that Mr. Wilson wanted to fire him?"
Donna giggled again. "I forgot. You didn't get to meet Mr. Wilson, did you?"
Niki shook her head.
"If you had, you wouldn't have bothered to ask that question. Mr. Wilson didn't hide his feelings about anybody. Howard knew exactly what Mr. Wilson thought of him because Mr. Wilson told him so to his face."
"How did Howard react?"
"He cussed and ranted about Mr. Wilson having Alzheimer's. Then he balled up his fist like he was about to hit Mr. Wilson."
"What happened?"
“Mr. Wilson just laughed," Donna paused, then continued. "Mr. Wilson got right in Howard’s face. He told Howard, ‘You ain't got the balls, boy’. Then he walked back to his office, leaving Howard real embarrassed in front of everybody.”
"When did this happen?" Niki asked.
"―Let's see. Oh yeah, it was Wednesday afternoon. Wait―" Realization hit the young lady. "That was the day before yesterday. Mr. Wilson was killed Wednesday night. I hadn’t even thought of that."
"Well, I'm glad you did now. It could be important to this case."
"I never pictured Howard as a killer. I agree with Mr. Wilson. I don't think he has the guts to take someone's life."
Niki scanned through the other papers on Wilson's desk.
"How much guts does it take to sneak up on someone in the dark, and stab them in the back? Sounds more like a coward to me."
"Oh, well," Donna shrugged. "If it's not him, there're plenty of other suspects."
Niki stopped.
"We have Johnson and the two clients, Mr. Hand and Miss Donna. Do you know of anyone else?"
Donna laughed and looked at Niki to make sure she was serious. Then she pointed at a drawer in the credenza behind the desk. "Those two files on his desk were the last two Wednesday afternoon. The others, I already filed in that drawer."
Niki pulled open the drawer. To her amazement, there were over forty files crammed in it. She whistled.
"These are dissatisfied clients?"
"Yes, Ma'am. And we get more every day. That was one thing I admired about Mr. Wilson. No matter which of the guys managed the account, he always took care of the complaints. I would have made those young guys do it."
Niki's cell phone vibrated. When she glanced at it, she knew she had to respond.
"Donna, what are you doing tomorrow?"
"Not much. Blake and I are going to the ballgame tonight. I'll probably sleep in tomorrow morning and then go to the mall tomorrow afternoon."
"Would you like to help me and make a little spending money?"
“I'd love to help you. This is interesting. I've never been part of a murder investigation before.”
"No. I can't do that. I need your help to sort out these files. You can save me a ton of time because you know the clients. I don't. But if I take advantage of what you know, I'll have to pay you. It'll make that trip to the mall a lot more interesting."
"Okay. But I would do it for free. You pay me whatever you think I'm worth. What time tomorrow?"
"It is eight too early?"
Donna beamed. "I'll be here."
Niki crossed the hall and told Ashton Johnston of her plans to come in over the weekend. He did not object after he determined that his presence would not be required.
Niki returned to her Ford Explorer. She hit the call back button on the cell. The message had come from Dirk Trahan, the independent investigator she hired to help her with the other cases. He answered on the second ring.
"Niki, thanks for getting back so soon. I've got some good news on the Brenda Thompson case."
Brenda Thompson was a sixteen-year-old that was going through a difficult stage in her life. Her father died of a heart attack when she was fourteen, and her mother remarried only six months later. Brenda and her stepfather did not get along. Police were summoned to their house on four different occasions. Accusations of abuse by the stepfather were still being investigated.
Brenda disappeared last Sunday while her mother and stepfather were in church. Most of her belongings and the blue Toyota Corolla she drove disappeared with her. Her mother wanted Niki to find Brenda and convince her to come home. Niki had no idea if she could get Brenda to go home, but agreed to take the case.
"Whatcha got?" Niki asked.
"Your little girl use her credit card at a gas station in Natchitoches. She filled up about two hours ago at a place right off of the campus."
Niki assumed Dirk was referring to Northwestern State University, home of the Blue Demons.
"Hold on."
Niki pulled out her laptop and went to the Brenda Thompson file. She found what she was looking for under the Known Acquaintances tab.
"She has an old boyfriend that is a freshman up there. From what I'm seeing here, he lives in an apartment off campus."
Dirk laughed. "Sounds like the old boyfriend has become the new boyfriend. Does it say how old this yahoo is?"
"Old enough to know better. How are you doing on the other cases?"
"Not a lot of progress, but I'll get there."
"Okay, you keep after those. I'm heading north to try some of the city's famous meat pies."
Friday
Natchitoches
Niki left the parking lot and drove up Highway 90 towa
rd Opelousas. Two hours later, she parked in a visitor’s spot at the Cane River Apartments complex. She had no trouble finding apartment 213. A large young man who fit the description of Brenda's ex-boyfriend opened the door.
"Jeremy?"
"I'm Jeremy."
"I'm looking for Brenda Thompson. I believe she has been with you for the past week."
The overweight young man glanced over his shoulder, then narrowed the opening between the door and the jamb.
"I haven't seen her. I don't know what your talking about."
Niki placed her hand on the door.
"Come on, Jeremy. I don't think you want to do it this way."
To the investigator’s surprise, Jeremy stepped aside, allowing her to enter the apartment. The living area, attached to the small kitchenette, was dim and smelled of smoke and alcohol. Cleanliness was not next to godliness in Jeremy Buchanan's mind. At least that was implied by the state of untidiness in the small room. Clothes, bottles, empty pizza boxes, and poker chips covered the top of furnishings and the filthy floor.
"Where is she?" Niki asked.
"Who? I don't know what you're talking about."
Niki laughed. "Then you won't mind telling me when you started using tampons. There's an empty box at the end of the couch."
The young man stared at the box, unable to formulate a quick response.
"Where is she? In the bedroom?" Niki pointed at the only door off the living room.
Jeremy stared at the door as if he had never seen it before. He began to say something, but changed his mind before speaking.
Niki stepped to the bedroom door and rapped firmly. She heard a noise from inside. That's when the full force of the heavy young man slammed into her, forcing the air from her lungs. Then Jeremy tried to get a choke hold around her neck.
Fortunately for Niki, the young man was big, but not strong. She elbowed him in his huge gut and heard him wince. Then she pulled his arm from her throat and struck him with a solid blow to his temple. Surprise filled his eyes as he sank to his knees. Niki finished with a spinning kick to Jeremy's nose. She smiled at the cracking sound and watched the blood flow in a steady stream. The red liquid poured over the floor, and the young man collapsed and as he blubbered and cried.
"All right, Mr. Buchanan. We did it your way."
She pulled a plastic tie from her pocket and secured the sobbing subject’s hands behind him. Then she the hit emergency number on her cell, reporting the assault and the address of the apartment.
When Niki hung up, she rapped on the door again.
"Brenda, you had better come out and talk to me. If you don't, your boyfriend will be in a lot of trouble."
The door opened slowly, and the plain looking sixteen-year-old edged out of the bedroom. She gasped when she saw Jeremy lying in his own blood with his hands cuffed.
"What?" She started.
Niki decided it was time for some tough love
"You have put this young man in an unpleasant situation. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what you two have been doing for the last week."
Brenda was still gaping and her boyfriend.
"He didn't do anything. I mean, he only did what I agreed to."
Niki frowned.
"That's the problem, Brenda. You are too young to consent to having sex. Jeremy here, he's an adult in the eyes of the law. That means he is guilty of statutory rape. Do you know what they do to a child rapist in jail?"
The young girl protested. "But I'm not a child. I'm sixteen and I can do anything with anybody I want."
Niki put her hand on the teenagers on.
"You are sixteen. Under the law, you’re a minor. You can't do what you want without consequences. One of those consequences is that this young man may spend the next twenty years of his life in jail."
Brenda sobbed.
"What can we do?"
"Do you have a key to this apartment?"
The broken teen nodded.
"Get in your car. After the police leave, come back. I'll still be in the lot. When I see you unlock the door, I'll come help you pack. Then you're going back to your mother. She is worried about you."
"But then I'll have to admit I was lying about what my stepfather was doing to me."
"Yes, you will. But it's better to get it out in the open now than your other alternatives. You can have a wonderful future, but not if you're planning on spending it like this with this loser." Niki pointed at the whimpering young man.
After the police booked Jeremy with an assault on a federal investigator, Niki helped Brenda pack her clothes in her car. She then followed the young girl back to Baton Rouge.
Her cell phone buzzed when she was passing through Krotz Springs. Recognizing the number, she answered it immediately.
"You want me to pick you up or do you want to meet there?" Dalton Bridgestone asked. Niki stammered. "Take me—? Mee—? What the heck are you talking about?"
"The ballgame," he answered. "Central is playing Zachary tonight at home. You told me you would go when we talked yesterday."
"Maybe I'm losing my mind. I don't remember discussing the ballgame with you at all."
There was silence on the other end.
"Hello," she said.
"I'm sorry," the senator said. "I guess I was so wound up about the Scott Wilson case, I forgot to ask you. Well, I'm asking you now."
Niki frowned. "I'd love to go, but I'm coming from Natchitoches. I just made it through Krotz Springs."
"Great. You have plenty of time to get here."
She shook her head even though Dalton could not see it over the phone. "I'm sorry, Dalton. I'm too grungy. A big galoot acted like the man he wasn't, and I've got to go wash the blood from my clothes”
“Oh, my God," Dalton gasped. "Are you okay?”
Niki laughed. "I'm fine. It's his blood, not mine. It was just a misunderstanding. But the good news is that I've closed one of my outstanding cases."
"Great, let's go to the ballgame, and then I'll treat you to dinner afterwards. You have to go with me."
"And why do I have to go?"
"Because my nephew is playing quarterback for the central Wildcats. They're going to the playoffs, anyway, but if they win tonight, they'll be the number one seed. I promised him I would be there and I'm not like most politicians. I keep my promises."
Niki sighed. "I still don't see how that includes me."
"Because I told him I was bringing the most beautiful girl in Louisiana with me. Beg my partiality, but I believe you're the only one that qualifies to fulfill that requirement."
Niki laughed. "How can I say no to a line like that?"
"You can't. Now, go get a shower, and meet me at the stadium."
Friday night
Central Wildcats Stadium
"Don't eat too many of these chili cheese nachos. Those jalapenos may spoil your dinner." Dalton pointed at the tub of chips in Niki's lap.
"Not on your life. I skipped lunch to go to Natchitoches. I could eat three and it wouldn’t spoil my appetite. I have to celebrate. We got Brenda Thompson back home." She poked another combination of chili, cheese, nacho chips, and jalapenos in her mouth.
"Congratulations. I hope we get to see a good game tonight. Zachary has a talented team."
Niki washed down the nacho combination with a gulp of a jumbo sized Dr Pepper.
"Which one is your nephew?"
"Number thirteen. That's Tommy. Tommy Netterville. He's my sister's oldest son."
"Is he good?" Niki asked.
Dalton shrugged. "I'm a little biased, but I believe he's the best quarterback Central has ever had. Most college scouts agree with me. He received over thirty scholarship offers from D–1 schools."
Niki paused before inhaling another mouthful. "Dang, he must be good. Is LSU one?"
Dalton smiled. "They've had a scout or a coach at every game he's played since Tommy was a sophomore. Heck, they even go to some of his practices."
When the teams fini
sh pregame warm-ups, the players jogged off the field. Tommy broke into a huge grin when he spotted Dalton and Niki in the stands. He flashed them a thumbs-up sign before leading the Wildcats to the locker room.
The game was a nail biter. Tommy led Central on two touchdown drives against the most outstanding defensive players Dalton had seen. Zachary's office struggled against the scrappy Wildcat defense, gaining only forty-three yards on the ground the first half. The Wildcats also intercepted the young Bronco quarterback twice. Going off the field for the halftime, Tommy looked at Dalton. He did not give him a sign.
"He looks tired," Niki observed.
Dalton continued to follow Tommy with his gaze. "Yeah, they’ve hit him a lot, and some of those guys pack a wallop. They look like they belong in college."
“I hope Tom is okay. He's dragging. Hey, I'm going to get some popcorn. Can I get you anything while I'm there?”
Dalton replied, "I'm walking with you. If I don't, I’ll end up with cardiac arrest with all the butter I've had."
"You only have one life to live. Might as well get a little extra butter on the way. Come on, before the line gets too long."
Niki and Dalton stood in line in front of a window at the concrete building that served as a concession stand for the Wildcats. She examined the abbreviated menu before hearing an energetic voice from behind.
"Miss Niki. I didn't know y'all were coming to the game," Donna Cross shouted, ignoring others in the line that stared at her.
Niki turned around and saw the perky blonde arm in arm with a behemoth of a young man. His sculptured physique reminded Niki of the images of the Greek gods of mythology. His forearms could have passed for tree trunks.
Donna beamed. "This is Blake. He used to play for Zachary. Now he's playing for LSU."
Niki stretched her hand out.
“Nice to meet you, Blake.” She turned to grab Dalton by his arm. “This is my friend, Dalton Bridgestone. His nephew is playing for Central.”
The two men shook hands. Donna clung to Dalton's hands. "I've never met a real live senator before, especially a good-looking one."