by Jim Riley
"Mr. Phelps came to the office last Wednesday. Were you aware of that?"
"Yes."
"And you discovered, he could sink your company because of the blatant disregard of the investments that Tiger Eye placed in opposition to the stated objectives."
Niki stared at Ashton Johnston. "You were on the verge of losing everything you worked for all these years."
"It wasn't that serious," Johnson shook his head. "It was only a matter of lack of clarification and specificity on the part of the client. We did nothing wrong."
"I have to be honest with you, Ashton," Dalton chuckled. "I've heard better filibustering on the Senate floor. What you just said sounds like a response from my lawyer, not you."
"It's also very convenient that the two people that could have brought the downfall of the company are now dead," Niki added. "Do you think that is a mere coincidence?"
"That's not for me to say."
"It sure seems to me you are the most fortunate recipient of this coincidence. One might conclude that it would give you a tremendous motive to kill someone."
Thursday Afternoon
Wildcats stadium
Ricky Augustine twitched uncomfortably, sitting opposite Niki and Dalton in the coach’s office. He couldn't find the right place for his hands to rest.
"Ricky, I'm Niki Dupre. I'm a private investigator. This is Senator Bridgestone. He is Tommy's uncle and has asked me to look into Tommy's death. We would like to ask you a few questions. Is that okay with you?"
"Okay," the athlete replied, his voice barely audible.
"You can have a coach or a parent sit in with us if you like. Do you want to get someone in here?"
"No, Ma'am. I'm fine."
"You and Tommy were friends," the investigator continued. "As well as teammates. Is that correct?"
"We've known each other forever."
"What did you think of Tommy?"
"Like you said," he replied. "We were friends, and both of us played on the football team together since junior high."
Niki pulled a tablet from her case. Even though it was blank, the teenager stared at it like it was a rattlesnake.
"You are also friends with Tommy's girlfriend, Paula Harris?" Niki scribbled something on the tablet.
"She's a cheerleader," the player stated the obvious.
"Do you know her?"
"Sure. Were both in the same classes. I know all the seniors. She's a senior," Ricky rambled.
"You've talked all around the question, but you still haven't answered it. Are you friends with Paula?"
"I suppose," the player said. "I know her."
"Are you attracted to her?"
"She's cute," Ricky nodded. "She's probably the prettiest girl in school. That's why she's a cheerleader."
"Is she attracted to you?" Niki asked.
"I don't know," the athlete shrugged. "You'll have to ask her about that."
"Are you two dating?"
"She was Tommy's girlfriend. She was dating him."
"Were you and Paula seeing each other behind Tommy's back? Did you to have a secret relationship?" Niki inquired.
"No, Ma'am," Niki said, as he squirmed in the chair. "She was Tommy's girlfriend. He was my friend."
"Paula has already told us the truth about the two of you. Why don't we start over, and you can tell us the truth this time."
Ricky slid in his chair and avoided looking at either Niki or Dalton.
"Tell us about your relationship with Paula," Niki said.
"We're friends. I mean, more than friends. She likes me and I like her."
"Were you intimate with her?"
"Huh?"
"Were ya’ll having sex?"
"Are you going to tell my parents?"
"We need to know how serious your relationship was with Paula. Were you guys intimate?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Did you ask her to break up with Tommy?"
The youth looked up with a shocked expression on his face. "Is that what she told you? I can't believe it. It was the other way around."
"What do you mean, Ricky? What was the other way?"
"She wanted to break up with him. She said he was boring, and she couldn't even think about spending the rest of her life with him."
"Then why didn't she?" Niki frowned. "Why didn't she break up with him and date you?"
"You're not gonna believe me," Ricky replied, his voice soft.
"Try me. Go ahead and tell me."
"She told me she was waiting for the voting."
"What voting?" Niki asked.
"For Miss Central High School. That is really important to Paula. She said it was something she can take with her for the rest of her life. Something she can be proud of."
"I don't get it," Dalton said. "What has Paula dating my nephew have anything to do with the Miss Central High?"
"Everybody knows the Tommy was going to be voted Mr. Central High School," Ricky raised his gaze to look at Dalton. "If Paula was dating Tommy, then she would be a shoo-in to get voted for. If she broke up with Tommy, and he started dating another girl, then that girl would get the votes, not Paula."
"Are you serious?" Dalton was flabbergasted. "She was using Tommy to get a title? That's unbelievable."
"I said you wouldn't believe me," Ricky shrugged.
"It's only that Paula is telling us a different story," Niki reassured the athlete. "She told us she had a lot of fun with you, but her future was with Tommy. Is that not true?"
"Not even close," Ricky shook his head. "Paula wanted to be known as the most popular girl in school. That was all."
"What about Tommy's future? He was almost guaranteed to make a lot of money playing professional football, and Paula told me he was planning on becoming a doctor after his ball career was over. Do you think Paula would give that up?"
"Are you serious?" Ricky snorted. "You don't know who my father is."
"No," Niki shook her head. "Is it important?"
"It is to Paula. My dad owns Cajun Spicy Wings. He has more than one thousand franchises across the United States. He is about to expand outside the country."
"And Paula thinks you will someday inherit this business?"
"I'm an only child," Ricky said. "My dad has already told me he's leaving everything to me in his will. I told Paula that."
"She didn't need Tommy's future," Dalton said, as though it was the first time he realized it.
"And now she is almost assured that she will get the vote," Ricky said. "She said Tommy asked her about somebody seeing us together at the fair. I bet it was Joey. He doesn't like Paula. But now, from what I heard, most of the students will still vote for Tommy and Paula. They want to pay their respects and honor him."
“Do you think Paula could have switched the sandwiches?"
"I don't know," Ricky shrugged. I only know that I didn’t."
Thursday Night
Copper Mill Golf Club
Dale Blocker drained the last of his beer and slammed his can on the table.
"Well guys, sorry for taking all your money today. Someday y’all learn not to bet against me. You'll never win."
"Blocker, you've got a rabbit's foot stuck up your ass," one of the other golfer scoffed. "Who makes a sixty foot putt on the eighteenth green? That ball would have rolled off the green if the hole didn't get in the way. You're luckier than a horny hound with three dicks at a dog show."
"Flattery will get you nowhere," Blocker rose from his chair. "Y'all know I’m the best. I don't know why I'm wasting my time here. I could be making millions on the tour."
"You've got to have a lot more than luck to win on the tour," the other golfer said, shaking his head. "Those guys play a whole different game than us."
“Not us, Goober,” Blocker sneered. “They play a different game than you. I think I can hold my own with them. And if I could win just one, think of all those endorsements I'll get with this face.”
"You might want to keep your day job with th
at mug," the golfer laughed. "Although I've never seen you working at one."
Blocker turned and walked towards the door. He froze when he saw the young lady waiting for him.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked. "I told you never to bother me while I'm networking. I can't concentrate on bringing checks to your daddy if you keep getting in the way."
Susie Carter was unable to match his stare. "We need to talk, Dale. I heard something today."
Dell looked around.
"Let's go over there in the corner where the other guys can't see us."
"Are you ashamed to be seen with me in public? Do I embarrass you that much?"
Dell glanced nervously over his shoulder. "Of course not, baby. I don't want them to get jealous when they see me with you. They won’t move their accounts if they’re jealous. Just business, baby."
"That's what I want to talk to you about."
Dell ushered her to the darkest corner of the club.
"Sure, baby. What's on your mind? I can't stay long. I've got a meeting with a possible client in a few minutes."
Susie had tears in her eyes. "Is she pretty?"
"It's nothing like that," Dell feigned shock. "You know I have to network a lot in my job. I can't help it if the beautiful people in the world have the money. Just like you, babe. Rich and beautiful."
"My dad is rich, not me. Would you still be dating me if he wasn't rich?"
Dell stroked her hair.
"Baby, what your dad has doesn't have anything to do with us. We were destined to be together. It was written in the stars."
He looked over his shoulder to ensure his friends could not overhear the conversation.
"Daddy says you're using me. He said he ought to fire you and then see how long you stayed around."
Dell's temples throbbed. His jaw muscles tightened. "What in the world are you talking about?"
"He thinks you're only dating me because he's paying you to do nothing. That's what he says."
"Baby, you don't believe that garbage, do you?"
"I don't know, Dale." Tears streamed down the young lady's plump face, making it even less attractive.
"Baby, I treat you like a queen. Don't I take care of your every need?"
"We never go out with your friends. You never introduce me to your buddies. I saw you laughing, having a good time with them. Why don't we go out with them sometimes?"
"That's because I'm greedy. I want to spend our precious time together alone. Just you and me. I don't want to share you with anybody. Can you blame me for that?"
"I don't know what to believe," she sobbed. "When I'm with you, I feel like a real woman. But then, when my dad talks to me, I feel like trash. I'm so confused."
"You don't need to be, baby. You're the only thing in this world that matters to me. I'm only working at your dad's company until I polish up my golf game. Once I get that in shape, you won't have to listen to him anymore."
"Are you gonna take me with you when you start playing professional golf?" She looked hopeful.
"It may take a little while. I’ll have to focus on golf in the beginning. I hope your dad will sponsor me. That's the only way to make it these days. A guy has to have a sponsor."
Susie broke into a big smile.
"If that will make you happy, I'm sure he will. All I have to do is ask him."
"Thanks, babe. I knew I could count on you. Now, I have to get to that meeting. Business never waits."
She rose and stepped close to him, expecting a kiss. Instead, he gave her a brief hug, and patted her on the head.
"I've got to get rid of some of that beer. I don't want to have to pull over on the highway. You take care and don't forget to mention that sponsorship thing to Mr. Hugh."
With that, he walked away to the men's locker room. Susie Carter trudged to her vehicle, wondering how she would talk to her father into spending money on Dale's golf career, knowing that he would resist at first, but would eventually give in.
Dale entered the dimly lit men's room, whistling to himself.
"Damn. I'm good," he said out loud.
He stood before a urinal and relieved himself. He was so self absorbed with the satisfaction of the meeting with Susie Carter that he did not notice the figure that followed him into the restroom. When he felt the blade slide between his ribs, it took him a couple of seconds before he realized what was happening. When the truth hit him, all the hopes and dreams of a professional golfing career faded in the last few heartbeats of his life.
The golfing buddy who had gone back and forth with Dale was the next golfer to enter the restroom. To his shock, he saw his friend collapsed on the floor, his head inside the urinal. The handle of a letter opener protruded out of his back.
Friday Morning
Central
"Where were you last night, Miss Cross?" The detective from the East Baton Rouge Sheriff's office asked.
"I was right here. I stayed in Niki's townhome all night. You can ask her."
Donna pointed at Niki.
"What time did you get here last night, Miss Dupre?"
"About ten. Dalton and I had dinner at a restaurant on corporate Boulevard. Mansur's. I came home right after we ate."
"Why didn't you go with them, Miss Cross?” The detective asked.
"I wasn't invited," she answered.
"Why not?"
"My boyfriend tends to show up when he isn’t supposed to. Niki felt like it was better for me to stay here and order pizza."
"Did you? Did you order pizza?"
Donna looked apologetically at Niki. "No, Sir. I didn't."
"What did you eat?"
"I went to Zachary and got some fried chicken."
The detective's eyes brightened.
"What time was this?"
"Are you going to tell us why you are questioning Donna?" Niki asked. "Is there something that we don't know?"
"I don't know what you know or don't know. I also don't know what Miss Cross may know."
"What is this all about, detective?" Niki asked.
"A young man by the name of Dale Blocker was stabbed to death last night at the Copper Mill Country Club in Zachary. The weapon was a letter opener. Your friend's prints are all over it."
"Oh, my God. Not again," Donna cried out.
The detective was not moved by her emotion.
"You have already been charged with the murder of two of your associates. From the file, the indications are that your prints were found on both weapons involved."
"Somebody took them off my desk," Donna blurted. "Anybody could have taken them. Somebody must have taken the letter opener. I had to get another one after the police confiscated the first one."
Donna's voice was shrill with disbelief.
"That's interesting, Miss Cross," the detective smiled. "Why would someone steal items from your desk to commit murder? Aren't there other desks at Tiger Eye? Why yours?"
"I don't know," Donna cried. "I wish I knew why somebody is doing this to me. Niki, help me."
Niki put an arm around her young friend. "I'm here. We will get to the bottom of this. Don't you worry."
The detective flashed a fake smile.
"You may want to consider cooperating, Miss Cross. For three first-degree murders, you will face the death penalty. It's been a long time since Louisiana executed a woman, especially one as young as you. But given the facts, I don't think they will hesitate to give you the needle."
Donna gasped.
"Niki, help me. I didn't do it."
"You need to answer my questions, Miss Cross. What time did you allegedly go to Zachary to get fried chicken? Why didn't you go to Central instead?"
"They never get my order right at the one in Central. They also always give me cold chicken that's been fried for a long time. It's always fresh in Zachary. That's why I go there."
"What time did you go?"
Donna shrugged.
"I don't know. It was a little after dark when I left. It's ab
out a twenty-minute trip."
"Do you have any proof that you bought chicken last night?" The detective stared at her as though he already knew the answer.
"No, Sir. I paid cash. I didn't use a card."
"What about the box? What did you do with it?"
Donna glanced at Niki again.
"I threw it in the dumpster downstairs. I didn't want Niki to know I didn't do what she said."
"Is it still there?"
"I think they picked up the trash already. That's why I threw it out last night. I knew they would pick it up this morning," Donna's whole body shuddered when she spoke.
"It's really a minor point, Miss Cross. Whether you actually bought fried chicken isn't that important. You've already admitted that you were in Zachary last night around the time of the murder. That means you had ample opportunity to kill Mr. Blocker and get back here before Ms. Dupre returned from her dinner engagement."
"But I didn't do it. I've already told you that."
"Why did you kill Dale Blocker? What did he do to you that was so bad that you had to kill him? Please explain that to me, Miss Cross."
The detective quit taking notes and stared at the hourglass blonde. He patiently waited for the answer.
Donna burst into tears.
"Nothing. He hit on me all the time, and made some off–the–wall suggestions, but he never touched me. I told you I had no reason to kill Dale."
The detective tapped the pen in his fingers on his chin. "You said he made some comments, off–the–wall, you said. Were these comments offensive?"
"Yeah. I mean, no. Coming from anybody but Dale, they would have been serious. But with Dale, I figured he was only blowing smoke. We couldn't have done some things he suggested at the office, anyway. Even Dale wouldn't go that far."
"Were the comments sexual?"
Donna would have laughed if not for the circumstances.
"With Dale, there weren't any other kind. Everything was sexual with that man."
"And you were not offended by those advances?"