Mardi Gras Mambo (8 page)

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Authors: Gred Herren

BOOK: Mardi Gras Mambo
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“I'm going to change my clothes,” I said, looking him right in the eye. “Do you want to come in and watch?”
“That would be a serious invasion of your privacy, Scotty, not to mention grounds for a lawsuit,” Frank called from the living room. Blaine flushed and stepped out of my way. He stopped me as I started to close the door.
“With the door open. I won't look.”
If I wasn't so terrified, the thought of a sexy police officer watching me undress would have been more than a little erotic, but that was the last thing on my mind as I walked into my bedroom and sat on the bed, trying to fight off the trembling. The Ecstasy was still working, sending me a tiny wave of highness. I bit my lip and started breathing deep to get it back under control.
“You okay?” Blaine asked from the door.
I looked up. He wasn't looking in but was standing just outside the door. “Just a little nauseous.” I tried to keep my voice from shaking. “I guess I partied a bit too much.”
“Well, it is Mardi Gras, after all,” he said sympathetically from the doorway. His back was still to me.
I slid off my left boot after removing my wallet and placing it on the nightstand. I looked back over my shoulder—Blaine had his back to me, good as his word—and I casually opened the change pouch in my wallet and removed the little baggie. With them in my hand I slid off my other boot, then quickly placed the hits under the crumpled blanket. It wasn't good enough to survive a search warrant, but it would have to do for now. I stood and peeled off my damp tights, tossing them with my socks into the laundry basket. I pulled on a pair of Saints sweatpants and a dirty, black long-sleeved T-shirt from off the floor. I walked past Blaine into the living room just as Colin was pouring coffee. I sat down in my reclining chair and curled my legs up underneath me. I was thirsty and dehydrated, but there was no way I was going to drink any coffee. The caffeine would kick the drug back into high gear. My heart sank as I saw Frank and Colin sip from their cups, but there wasn't any way to warn them.
“Now, what's this about, Venus?” I asked.
“Scotty, where were you this past evening at eight o'clock?” Venus, sitting down on the edge of the couch nearest my chair, pulled a notebook and pen out of her jacket pocket.
“At eight o'clock I was walking up Burgundy Street.”
“Where were you going?” Blaine walked over and stood behind Venus, his arms folded.
“To a friend's.” I looked him straight in the eye again. His face was expressionless.
Venus sighed. “Scotty, please. You were going to Mikhail Saltikov's house on Burgundy Street, correct?”
“Mikhail Saltikov? You mean Misha?” I'd never known his real name; he'd always just been Misha to me.
Venus put her notebook down and crossed her legs. “Okay, fuck this. I'm going to be up front with you, Scotty, and you know I don't have to be. We know Saltikov was a drug dealer, okay? If you went there tonight, you went there to buy drugs. That's fine. I can see why you wouldn't want to admit that. But I don't give a rat's ass about busting you for that, okay?” She pointed at Frank and Colin. “You've got two witnesses to my saying that.” She gave me a crooked smile. “Your esteemed brother could make serious hay out of that in court, am I right?”
I grinned back at her. Storm was a great lawyer. Mom always said he could argue a nun out of her panties. I felt a little better. Venus might be a cop, but she had always been fair with me in the past, even when she probably shouldn't have been. “Let's just say I went to Misha's for whatever reason and arrived at eight o'clock on the dot. I looked at my watch when I rang his bell.”
“And about what time did you leave?” Venus arched an eyebrow up.
“Probably around eight-twenty, eight-thirty maybe. I didn't look at my watch. I got back to Lafitte's to meet the guys about then, right?” I looked over at them for confirmation. Frank was scowling.
Uh-oh,
I thought,
I'm gonna have some “splainin' ” to do later.
“I'd just looked at my watch when he walked up,” Colin added. His feet were bouncing on the floor. “It was just after eight-thirty, wasn't it, Frank?”
“Something like that.” Frank wouldn't look at me—not a good sign. He was definitely pissed. My heart sank. I was definitely going to hear about this later.
“He was alive when I left,” I blurted out.
Both Venus and Blaine turned to look at me.
“Our cabdriver told us someone on Burgundy Street was murdered last night.” Frank put his coffee cup down. He was starting to sweat again. “In the same area Scotty's friend lives—
lived
—and you were here to meet us when we got home, and you say you aren't interested in any drug purchases that
might
have occurred.” He wiped at his face. “So, it stands to reason that this Saltikov person was murdered, and somehow you know Scotty was there, which is why you're here.”
“Very impressive, special agent.” Venus bowed her head to him. They'd worked together during the Southern Decadence mess, and I knew she had a lot of respect for his professionalism, even if he wasn't a federal agent anymore.
I have to say I was impressed with both Frank and Colin. Even high, they were able to say things with—what was it Storm called it?—oh, yeah, plausible deniability.
Venus went on, “Yes, Mikhail Saltikov, Misha”—she nodded at me—“was murdered last night. And as far as we know, you were the last person to see him alive.”
“And how do you know that?” Frank wiped his forehead with a Kleenex. His face was getting red, and his feet were tapping up and down. Beads of sweat were forming at the base of his throat.
“Because Misha had a video camera hooked up to his front door with a time stamp on the tape. He recorded everyone coming in and out of the place,” Blaine replied. “He turned it off right after you got there. Now, why would he do that, Scotty?”
Oh, sweet Goddess, that's just great.
I hadn't seen that one coming. I remembered him flicking a switch without a light coming on anywhere. Why hadn't I thought anything about it at the time? Dumb, dumb, dumb! I could feel a major headache starting to form right between my eyes. I took a few deep breaths—
and remembered handling the lockbox with all his drugs in it.
My fingerprints were all over it.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
“I have no idea,” I said.
Damn you, Misha!
“What did the two of you talk about?” Venus picked up her notebook again.
“Nothing really.” I thought about it. “We talked about Mardi Gras, how much fun we were going to have, that kind of stuff.” Think, Scotty, think! “Oh, he got a call on his cell phone. He left the room to take it and shut the door behind him.”
“Do you know who called?” Blaine's voice was just as disinterested as Venus's. I wondered if they were getting ready to go all good cop/bad cop on me.
“No. He just said he had to take the call and walked out of the room. He wasn't happy about it.” I remembered the loud voice in the next room. “He was yelling at whomever it was; I could hear him through the door. I couldn't understand what he was saying. I mean, with the door closed and all I could just barely hear his voice, but it did sound like he was yelling in Russian.” I thought for a minute. “Well, I assumed it was Russian. It could have been another language, I guess.”
Blaine and Venus exchanged glances again. “And when he came back?”
“He was upset—I could tell—and he rushed me out.” Maybe I
should
have stayed, made him talk about it. Oh, man. This so totally sucked. But, then again, if I'd stayed, I might have been there when the killer arrived.
Happy Mardi Gras, my ass.
Both Venus and Blaine stood. “And then you walked back to Lafitte's?”
I nodded.
“Did you notice anyone or anything that seemed out of place around Saltikov's?” Venus asked.
“It's Mardi Gras, Venus. Everything looked out of place.” I sighed. “There were a lot of people milling about, hanging out around Rawhide, but I didn't really pay much attention. I was in a hurry to meet the guys at Lafitte's.”
Venus flipped her notebook shut. “Well, that's all for now.” She signaled for Blaine to walk out of the apartment, and she followed, with me right behind them. When we reached my bedroom door, she stopped. “Would you mind if we took your clothes?”
“Why?” I wasn't expecting that.
“If you're innocent, they'll clear you.” Venus gave me her enigmatic smile.
With the Ecstasy safely out of my boots, I didn't care what they did with my clothes. There wasn't anything on them that would connect me to Misha's murder, since I didn't do it. I walked into the bedroom; picked up the tights, cape, and socks; folded them over the boots; and presented them to Venus at my front door. She shook open a plastic bag, placed them inside, and wrote on the label while Blaine wrote out a receipt for me, and then I shut the door behind them.
I staggered back into the living room, fighting down nausea.
“You shouldn't have given them your clothes,” Frank said. “Your sweat—now they have your DNA.” His face looked tired. “I am assuming you managed to get the drugs put away first?”
“Appearances to the contrary, I'm not stupid, Frank.” It came out a lot bitchier than I intended, but I was beyond caring. I sank down wearily into my wingback chair. Another wave was starting to come over me, so I started taking deep breaths again, and began tapping my hands on the chair arms.
“You need to flush them down the toilet,” Frank went on. His face was really flushed. “Right, Colin? There's no safe place to hide them from a search warrant.” His scar seemed to darken. His eyebrows came together again. “I
told
you it was a dumb idea.”
“Yeah, well, maybe, but we have to deal with it now.” I scowled back at him. If he said, “I told you so,” I was going to throw something at him—something heavy that would hurt.
“Give them to me,” Colin instructed. “They won't have probable cause to search our apartment, Frank.”
“Are you crazy?” Frank stood up. He was trembling. Maybe it was just another wave, but it might have been anger. “We just need to get rid of them and be done with it.”
I stood up without saying anything, walked into the bedroom, and pulled them out from under the blanket. I stood there with them in my hands and thought about it.
Maybe Frank's right, and I should just flush them down the toilet. But if I do, we won't have any more and Misha's dead. . . .
I walked into the bathroom and stood over the toilet with them.
But I didn't have anything to do with killing Misha, and do I really want to ruin my Mardi Gras?
I said a quick prayer to the Goddess for guidance, but she didn't answer. I
hate
when she does that. Oh, sure, I know it's because I am supposed to make my own decisions, but a little
help
every once in a while isn't too much to ask for, is it?
I looked at myself in the mirror and started to shake. Whether it was another wave or not, I couldn't tell, but my teeth started chattering and I wrapped my arms around myself. Maybe I should have forced Misha to tell me what was going on. I put the baggie down on the counter and turned on the hot water. Misha was
dead.
I stared at myself in the mirror. He'd been such a sweet guy—always so happy to see me, always so friendly and affectionate, but never in a sexual way. I'd really liked him, and now that he was gone, I was sorry I hadn't made more of an effort to get to know him better. But now that chance was gone, and I felt the tears coming. I had always felt
connected
to him somehow; able to just relax around him and be myself. I stood there for a few moments and let the tears come. As I cried, I said some prayers to the Goddess for Misha. I was going to miss him. I remembered how his big strong arms felt around me as he hugged the breath out of me every time he saw me and spun me around. Why would someone kill him? He was a sweet, kind man. I splashed water on my face and pulled myself together.
I took a deep breath and walked back out of the bedroom. Maybe it would turn out not to be the smartest thing in the world to hold on to the drugs, but Colin didn't seem to want to get rid of them, either. I walked into the living room and handed them over to Colin.
Frank looked at both of us, his head going from side to side. “You know what? You two are fucking crazy!”
“Frank—” I started to say, but Colin cut me off.
“Frank, they aren't interested in the drugs, and you and I both know Scotty didn't have anything to do with this, and Venus knows it too.” Colin folded his arms. “
Think
about it. You're not in your right mind right now—”

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