Murder On Spirit Island (Niki Dupre Mysteries Book 1)

by Jim Riley

  The same kindness that made him almost rape me. The same kindness that made him take advantage of his assistant at the apartment complex. If those are the attributes of his kind of kindness, I can live without it.

  "I'm sure you're right, Mrs. Davis but I need the name of the bar where they found his car."

  "It’s the Striped Cat Bar. You can't miss it. It's about a mile from Walk-Ons."

  "Thank you. I'll call you back if I find anything that will help."

  "Miss Dupre."

  "Yes, ma'am?"

  "Please find my Obi for me."

  Friday Morning

  Baton Rouge

  The Striped Cat Bar sat strategically located off the LSU campus on Burbank Avenue. It had been in the news recently when the university’s star quarterback got involved in a brawl and the police charged him with assault and battery on another student. The alleged victim, no stranger to violence when drinking, filed a civil suit against the player and the bar.

  She pulled into the lot and hers was the only vehicle in the patrons section. Three cars occupied spaces for employee parking. That did not surprise the investigator or her passenger given the time of day. Although many parents swore their sons and daughters drink their breakfast, most bars did not open this early. She glanced over at Dalton Bridgestone.

  "Are you certain you don't want me to drop you off and come back later?"

  "Now who would look for me in the parking lot of an empty bar at ten o'clock on a Friday morning?" He smiled.

  Niki slapped the side of her face gently.

  "That's right. This is Friday."

  "Hello. Earth to Niki Dupre," Dalton laughed. "I know it’s confusing, but for the time being at least, Friday still comes after Thursday and before Saturday. Do you read, Niki Dupre?"

  She rubbed her four head.

  "Oh, shut up. I just forgot that I have a date tonight."

  "Cancel it. Probably won't be the first time you've broken some poor guy’s heart by not showing up for a date with him."

  She gave him a stern look.

  "I've never broken a date. If I don't want to go, I don't accept. A lot less stress for everybody concerned."

  "So let this be a first," Dalton replied. "It's not like you've got a lot of spare time here lately."

  "I probably should, but it's the one date I need to keep," Niki laughed.

  "Someone special, huh?"

  "Very special," she grinned. "I've been in love with him since high school, but he's just now coming around."

  "What took him so long? Is he blind, deaf, and dumb or does he have his head up his ass?"

  The smile never left her face.

  "None of the above. He's a perfect gentleman. He got somehow distracted along the way. Now he's back focused again."

  "Good for him. Some guys have all the luck. I thought I was one of those guys until last Saturday night."

  Dalton's voice trailed off.

  "The real reason I shouldn't cancel is that it’s John. I told you he’s heading up the task force looking for you. I’d like to find out what they know and where they're going with the investigation."

  Dalton nodded and agreed.

  "I’d be interested in knowing that myself. I'm sorry for what I said about him. He’s a very fortunate man."

  "Thank you. I'd better get inside. It’ll look suspicious if we keep sitting in this vehicle all by ourselves. Somebody is liable to call the police and we can’t afford that."

  "What are you waiting for?" He grinned. "I'll sit out here, point this toy at the window and record everything you say. So don't tell any trashy jokes you don't want John to hear. It won't fit your All–American image in court."

  She smacked him in the shoulder, left the SUV, and entered the bar. An old black man, barely heavy enough to keep his pants from falling, mopped the floor. He looked up, surprised to see an early customer.

  "We be closed, ma'am. Weze don't open till six o'clock tonight. You needs to be back then."

  Niki walked directly to him.

  "I'm not here to drink. I'm looking for a man that disappeared. The police found his car in your lot this morning."

  "Yes’m. I's the one that called ‘em. We can't have empty cars in our lot. Don't look good, you knows."

  "Did you notice anything strange about the car before they towed it away?"

  "No’sm, little Missy. Udder than does dag gum keys.”

  "What about the keys?"

  "They was in the right were they supposed to be. Ain't nobody leaves thar keys in the keyhole. No one. Ain't safe. Since Katrina hit New Orleans, we ain’t got nuttin the thugs and thieves up here. They tell you they ain't, but they are, shore nough."

  Niki pulled out of a photograph of Oberlin Davis, III. She held it in front of the janitor.

  "This is the man that owns the car. Do you recognize him?"

  The skinny black man chuckled.

  "Now how in the world's would I's knows him? I don't works at nights. Just in the mornings to cleans up what smart kiddies leave behinds."

  "Is there anyone here that worked last night?"

  "A couple girls does. Thays take turns coming in the morning to help out. You might ask one of them."

  Niki walked toward the back door, stopping before she reached it. She whispered, hoping Dalton could hear her.

  "Not a lot of help there. Hope we have more luck in the back."

  She went to the door and rapped on it. A petite redhead opened it. She looked too young to be working in a bar.

  "Hi, I'm Niki Dupre. I'm looking for Oberlin Davis, III. They found his car in your lot this morning."

  "Who?" The redhead asked.

  "Oberlin Davis, III."

  "Lady, most guys don't give us their names. When they do, it's usually fake."

  Niki showed her the photograph.

  "This is him. Was he here last night?"

  "I think so. The reason I remember is that he's an old coot, a lot older than most of the guys. We mostly get students. He could have been one of their fathers."

  "Did you wait on him?"

  "Kat did."

  "Where can I find Kat?" Niki asked.

  The redhead opened the door wider. "You're looking at her."

  Niki saw the striking blonde waitress with an hour-glass figure.

  Friday Morning

  Baton Rouge

  "Kat, may I ask you a few questions?"

  "I'm really busy and I'm dog tired," the blonde frowned. "I haven't been to sleep yet. I hate working morning shifts."

  Niki pulled out a hundred-dollar bill.

  "I'll make it worth your time."

  Kat eyed the money before taking it.

  "I need to go to the boats. As lucky as I was last night and now this morning, I need to play the slots."

  Niki showed her a picture of Davis. "Did you wait on this man last night?"

  Kat looked at the photograph again and nodded.

  "Did you notice any unusual behavior?"

  The blonde laughed.

  "Unless you mean skunk drunk, then no. Nothing odd about him except he was old. We get a lot of drunks in here. It comes with the territory, I guess."

  "What time did he leave?"

  "Let's see," Kat rubbed her temple. "We were about to close. So it must have been a little before three."

  "Did you see him walk to his car?"

  The blonde laughed again.

  "He was in no shape to walk anywhere, much less drive. His friend practically carried him out."

  "His friend?"

  "The guy that paid for all the drinks and left a big tip," Kat said.

  "Big tip?"

  "Yep." The blonde nodded. "Three crisp Benjamins. That's why I said I was on a lucky streak."

  Niki thought for a moment.

  "Do you still have those bills?"

  "I've still got two of them," Kat nodded. "The bank hasn't opened yet. The other one, I put in the register to pay for the drinks."

  "I'll tell you what,
" Niki said. "You're about to get even luckier."

  "How?"

  "I’ll give you three hundred for those two. You can't refuse a deal like that."

  Cat nodded, assenting to the agreement.

  "Can you describe the guy who gave you the money?"

  "I was more focused on the money, but I got a good look at him," Kat said.

  "What did he look like?"

  "I rarely go for older guys, but in this case, I'd make an exception. Know what I mean?"

  Niki said nothing.

  "He was mid–twenties, maybe early thirties, athletic, well–dressed, distinguished, you know, like he came from money. A real gentleman."

  Sounds like a lot of men. The problem is that it sounds just like Dalton Bridgestone. And he is listening to every word she is saying.

  "What color was his hair?"

  "Brown. Oh, he had deep blue eyes. I mean, real blue."

  That narrows it down a lot. Unfortunately, it still leaves Dalton squarely in the cross-hairs.

  Niki had Kat dropped the two bills in a plastic zip bag and gave her three as promised. She walked out of the bar muttering to herself.

  Friday Morning

  Baton Rouge

  Niki slammed the car door shut.

  "Why didn't you tell me you were here with Davis last night?"

  "What—? What are you talking about?" Dalton asked.

  "You heard what that girl said. You were listening."

  Her tone was unusually high.

  "I heard. Yes, I heard every word she said. She never said I was here last night." Dalton replied.

  Niki was anything but convinced.

  "How many guys in Baton Rouge fit the description she gave me?"

  "Probably five hundred to a thousand," Dalton chuckled. "That's only a guess. It could be a lot more. I know there has to be a bunch of guys that fit that general description."

  Niki pointed a finger at him.

  "All right, wiseguy. How many of these five hundred to a thousand have some connection to the bid–rigging scheme?"

  Dalton sat for several seconds saying nothing. Then he replied in a soft, low voice.

  "There has to be at least one more. That's the only thing that makes any sense."

  "If you weren't here with Davis, where were you all night?"

  The senator looked out the window, the antenna now forgotten. It rested on his lap exposing his full face.

  "Uh, oh," he whispered. "I think we may have a problem."

  Niki followed his gaze to see two student–age kids standing under a live oak near Burbank Avenue. They pointed at the SUV.

  "I think it might best for us to get out of here as quickly as possible," Dalton whispered.

  The investigator cranked up the SUV and sped out of the parking lot. In her rear-view mirror, she saw the students talking excitedly. Then she saw the guy dialing as fast as he could.

  "Crap. They're calling the police. They'll have this place surrounded before we can get out."

  "The police are not that efficient," Dalton smiled.

  "Normally I would agree with you, but your big news. Every person in Baton Rouge and their brother are looking for you. Every cop on the force wants to be the one to haul you in."

  Dalton focused on the road.

  "I've got an idea. Keep going straight to River Road."

  "On the other side of Nicholson, isn't it? Nicholson is the main road to LSU?"

  "Yep. Turn south toward LSU and don't worry about getting a speeding ticket."

  Niki heard sirens closing and from every direction.

  "Hurry," Dalton urged. "We don't how much time left."

  The investigator sped as fast as she could in the pre-lunch traffic. She saw one squad car with lights flashing in sirens blasting pass in the opposing lane speeding toward the bar. Then another. Then another.

  When they turned on River Road, she saw the third one make a U-turn while she watched in the mirror.

  "Only about three hundred yards down," Dalton yelled. "Turn in there. Go to the back of the warehouse."

  She squealed in and gained the cover of the warehouse before the speedy police car buzzed by. Dalton jumped out of the SUV and furiously punched numbers on the security pad. The rolling door of the building opened slowly.

  Another squad cars zoomed by, is sirens penetrating through the air. Dalton waved Niki into the warehouse. As soon as the SUV cleared the opening, Dalton hit more buttons on an inside pad. The door close, leaving them in semi–darkness. The only light broke through a window high above the door.

  Niki shut off the SUV and exited the Ford vehicle.

  "Where are we? I mean, I know where we are, but what is this place?"

  "It's our sanctuary," Dalton grinned.

  They heard two more police cars pass, speeding toward LSU.

  "I don't believe they’ll give up soon," Niki said, straining to see her surroundings in the dim building.

  "Nope," he answered. "Might as well make yourself comfortable. We’ll probably be here for a while."

  Niki still could not see far though her eyes adjusted some.

  "I take it this belongs to you."

  "Not legally. It's still in my father's name," he said. "It's the place where he stores his old trucks and cars that he buys. He loves them. They don't have to be antique or special edition, as long as they catch his fancy. He even hired a guy who comes down here once a month to crank and drive each of them. They're all in working order."

  "Can you turn on a light so I can see them?"

  "I don't think that's a great idea given our predicament," Dalton chuckled.

  Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, they saw a reflection of flashing lights through the window as a squad car circled the warehouse. The car stopped, and they heard two doors slam.

  Dalton put a finger to his lips, but it was unnecessary because Niki was quietly crouching by her SUV. One of the policeman tried to raise the rolling door, but it did not budge. Then he banged on the door with a flashlight as if he expected someone on the inside to open it. Dalton grinned, but remained quiet. Niki's expression told him she saw nothing funny about the situation. Then they heard the cops walk around the building, attempting to peer into the covered windows. Another set of flashing lights reflected in the high window.

  "You guys find anything inside?" An officer in the second vehicle asked the men already there.

  "Nope," came the reply. "This place looks like it's been locked up for a long time. Has anybody got a glimpse of them?"

  "Not yet. They must have headed to LSU to blend in with the students. If they did, we’ll get them even if we don't have a little plate number. How many white Ford Explorers can there be, even at LSU?"

  "How many units are on the lookout?"

  Niki and Dalton heard laughter.

  "Every one of them between here in New Orleans. We all want a promotion."

  "That means there are more than a hundred cars around LSU right now. He's toast."

  They heard car doors slamming, and both units drove back to River Road. Niki rose from her crouched position and edged up to Dalton.

  "We might have to spend the night here. They’ll stay out there all day."

  "I thought you had a date tonight. Besides that, I haven't had lunch yet and I'm hungry. No way will I skip lunch and dinner."

  She put a hand on his arm. "Better to have nothing than to eat jailhouse food. I've never had the pleasure, but it's my understanding that it's not a memorable delight."

  "I don't think we'll have to do that either," he patted her hand.

  The senator walked to the wall and flipped a switch. Rows of florescent bulbs brightened the interior. Niki saw dozens of assorted vehicles ranging from a model T to a Lamborghini and everything in between.

  "You weren't kidding, were you?" She said while staring at all the cars and trucks.

  "Never do, least ways when I'm sober. After I’ve had a few though—" He grinned.

  She was looking at
a 60’s convertible. "I don't think we’ll go unnoticed in that."

  "That's the point," he said. "An Edsel or a model T or a Corvette will draw your attention. But you looked right over the 2006 Ford F-250 with a V–eight diesel. It'll fit right in here in Baton Rouge. Nobody will take a second look."

  "They'll be still be looking for both of us, even in a truck."

  "That's why we’re not going out in the same vehicle. They’re looking for a couple in a white Ford Explorer. I’ll be in that red F–250."

  "It's almost as if you were planning this before today," she laughed. "Were you?"

  He feigned indignation. "You mean find a way to avoid the scrutiny of probing news people and a nosy constituency? Do you believe that I would think of something like that?"

  "You're quick for a politician," she giggled.

  "I don't know whether to thank you or spank you. Are you ready to go?"

  "This soon?" Niki asked.

  "Most of the posse is scouring around the campus. If you make it to Airline Highway or Florida Boulevard, you'll be free as a bird."

  "How about you?"

  "Me and my Ford pickup won't be far behind you but it's best if there is a little distance between us just in case."

  The senator walked to the interior pad and raised the door. He saw her getting into the SUV.

  "Don't you want to take one of the others? They’ll be looking for your vehicle."

  "I don't think so. If I get stopped driving a vehicle registered to the Bridgestone family, I might have a hard time explaining it. Besides, they're looking for a couple."

  "All right, but I believe you're making a mistake."

  "Be careful," she said through a lowered window.

  The strawberry-blonde turned north on River Road and took the first street going east back to Nicholson highway. She turned left on Nicholson and was almost at Florida Boulevard when she spotted the flashing lights in her rear-view mirror. Her stomach roiled and became queasy as she pulled the vehicle to the side.

  Friday

  Baton Rouge

  Sweat drops formed on her upper lip when she watched the city policeman talk on his radio. She knew this was standard procedure in a situation like this requiring him to check the tags and registration of the SUV before approaching.