Lucier shook his head, angry for letting stress get the better of him. “Sam, wait. I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that.” He leaned back, released a long sigh. “Fact is, you’re right. I do like Diana, and I don’t want anything to happen to her, because I couldn’t go through that again. Until Macon is caught and I know she’s safe, I’ll be uptight. If the captain knew about this relationship, he’d take me off the case, so please, don’t spread it around. The guys might suspect, but they don’t know for sure, and right now I’d like to keep our relationship under wraps.”
“They won’t hear anything from me.”
“Thanks. Cash is bringing her over in a few minutes. We’re going to try something I hope doesn’t backfire.”
“What you’re gonna do, is it dangerous?”
“Yes, especially if he’s still around. Diana mentioned the possibility. Be a smart maneuver, really. The whole country—the Feds, every PD, and John Q citizen—is looking out for the two of them, and they might be here in New Orleans.”
Beecher walked back to Lucier’s desk and sat down across from him. “Do you think he’s that foolish?”
“Or smart. The longer those two are loose and the car’s not found, yeah, I think there’s a good possibility. One I don’t like at all. Right now, you, the captain, and Cash are the only ones besides me who know where she’s staying. I’ve been thinking how to handle this because if I’m right, we’ll need someone to watch the station.” Lucier walked to the window. He searched the street. “It’s logical she might come here, and if Macon’s around, he’ll be watching. Willy will bring her in through the back parking area, but this guy will have thought of everything.” Lucier turned to face Beecher, pointing his finger. “Oh, and another thing. Can we get a permanent tail on Joey Dree, without him knowing?”
“I’ll call Sheriff Jenrette.”
“If Macon’s clever enough to come back to New Orleans, he’s bound to contact Joey for a place to hide out. He’ll convince the little prick he owes him a favor for squealing, and Joey’s too much of a pussy to refuse. You heard him. He’s scared shitless of the guy.”
“What else?”
“Get a dump on Dree’s phone and a warrant for a tap. I want to know every call in and out.”
“I’ll get on it.” Beecher started for the door.
“Sam,” Lucier called. “I’m sorry about before. You’ve been there for me, and I haven’t shown my appreciation sometimes. That’s because I’m an asshole.”
“I understand, Ernie. Always have.”
When Beecher opened the door to leave, Lucier heard the commotion in the squad room. He followed Beecher to see what was going on. His heartbeat raced at the sight of Diana. She still looked rough, walked with a careful gait, but had a smile for everyone there.
“Thanks, guys. I haven’t had a chance to thank you all in person. If you hadn’t found me when you did, I’d surely be dead.” She looked at everyone individually. “Thanks.”
Wishes for a speedy recovery buzzed through the room.
She made her way to his office, and he closed the door behind her. He wanted to take her in his arms, but all he could manage was, “How did you sleep last night?” Diana stood close to him, almost touching. He backed away.
Not here. Not in my office.
“Not so great. Nightmares about Harley scared me awake at least three or four times.”
“I’m sorry. We’re trying to track down an acquaintance of his in hopes he can lead us to him.”
Diana moved closer. “Stay with me tonight. Just be close, that’s all. Nothing more.”
“I don’t know if I can do that. I’m only hum—”
Beecher knocked and stuck his head through the opening, acknowledging Diana. “Joey Dree’s disappeared. He’s not in his apartment, and no one’s seen him since yesterday.”
“Dammit!” Lucier said. “Harley Macon is in New Orleans.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Curbing Temptation
A
fter issuing a watch on Dree’s car, Lucier asked Jenrette to question Clayton Dree to find out Joey’s haunts, girlfriends, and anything else that might help find him. “If my hunch is right, Macon must have threatened Joey to find him someplace to hole up.” Lucier massaged his forehead and spoke almost to himself. “He never went to Mexico. Never intended to. He’s after Diana and won’t quit until he gets her.”
Diana listened to them talking as if she weren’t in the room. Somehow nothing Lucier said surprised her. Why would Macon tell her the truth when they met? She lied to him. He no more planned to leave town than she had of staying out of his head. They shared a lot in common, and she squelched a shiver to think she was capable of playing on his field.
“I don’t want you out of my sight,” Lucier said.
“I like that idea.”
He sat down beside her. “Get serious, Diana. This guy’s obsessed with you. Killers like him don’t let much get in their way, and they don’t quit.”
“How well I know. I’m still hurting. I want to get him, Ernie. Let me be the bait. We can control this.”
“Uh-uh. No way, I’m not letting you put your life on the line again.”
“My life’s already on the line. You have to use me or you won’t get him.”
“Out of the question. You snookered me once, pulling that stupid meeting. Maybe I should lock you up. At least you’d be safe.”
“But you won’t do that.”
He poked his finger in her shoulder. “Don’t be too sure, lady.”
She waved him quiet. “Listen to my idea. I want to do one more performance in New Orleans. Let everyone see that Diana Racine is alive and well and not hiding from that psycho. I’ll find a theater and get that pain-in-the-ass Griffin to write it up in exchange for a personal interview when Macon is caught. He’ll report that the police think Macon is on his way to Mexico. Macon won’t be able to resist. He’ll come after me and you’ll get him.”
“Oh, and you think he’s just going to sit in the audience and watch your performance? He’s not stupid. Crazy, yes; stupid, no. You barely escaped with your life the first time, and you were damn lucky to get away the second. Haven’t you had enough of him?”
“So much that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life worrying when he’s coming after me or my parents.” She paused. “Or you. And he will. You can’t stop him, and you can’t stop me. I’ll do it with or without police assistance, so you might as well agree. Besides, with your men all over the place I won’t be in danger. Listen, then tell me what you think.”
* * * * *
L
ucier listened to Diana’s plan, knowing she’d go it alone, exactly like she said she would if the police didn’t help. Now all he had to do was convince the captain.
Beecher stuck his head in the office. The big man hoisted up his pants, but they ceded to gravity and slid beneath his belly. “One of my snitches called when he heard we were looking for Dree. He saw him at Frankie Castor’s bar last night. Said Dree talked to Castor, then Castor went in back. He came out and handed Dree a slip of paper, then Dree left in a hurry. My man didn’t see where he went. Halloran went to the bar, but the bartender said Castor left on vacation with his wife early this morning. No one knows where. Do you find that interesting or what?”
Lucier rubbed his chin. “Very interesting. Frankie Castor’s harmless. A big fat bar owner with a big fat wife who scared the hell out of me when I bumped into them one night at a restaurant. She wanted to know how come I knew her husband. I can tell you who’s got the balls in that family, and it isn’t Castor. Ask Willy to check out his holdings. See if he owns any property other than his house and the bar. And pull his phone records.”
“You bet.” Beecher noted the wad of wrinkled clothing on the chair, raised an eyebrow at Diana, and left.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” Lucier asked.
Diana reached for Macon’s gray T-shirt. “I’m sure.”
Preparing himself for whatever would happen, Lucier watched, his heart in his throat. Diana clutched the shirt, and with a glance at him, closed her eyes. She sat rigid, no movements or visible signs that the shirt offered any more insights than when it lay crumpled inanimately on the chair. Five minutes later, she opened her eyes. “Nothing. Not a damn thing.”
“That’s it,” Lucier pronounced. “We’ll get him without the hocus-pocus.”
“What? Is that what you think this is? Hocus-pocus? Let me remind you—Harley Macon can do what I do, and as long as he can, he’s dangerous. He has to be stopped.”
“And I said we’d stop him.”
Before Diana could respond, Beecher knocked on the door again and stuck his head through the crack. “Sorry, but I thought you’d want to know. The only calls Castor made from his bar last night were business related.”
“Check them out and call his cell company. Get a warrant if you have to. Someone offered up a place for Macon to stay.”
“Could he have used a prepaid phone card?” Diana asked. Both men looked at her. “Not a good idea?”
“No, good idea,” Beecher said. “But if he’s clean, why would he need one?”
Cash barreled through the door. “No property listed except the bar and his house. And from what you said about his wife, I doubt he’d put up Macon there.”
“Anything in the wife’s name?”
“Nope. Even checked family members. Nothing.”
“Dammit. Look deeper. Someone let him use a place. I want to know who.”
“I’ll try to―”
“Don’t try. Just do it.” Lucier caught the surprised looks. He lowered his voice. “Sorry. Just do it, okay?”
“Yes, sir, Lieutenant.”
Diana sat holding another article of Macon’s clothing. “Still nothing. He’s blocking me.”
“The whole city’s
blocking me,” Lucier said. “No one knows any more about Macon, Dree, Castor, or his contact than when we started. At least you’re safe.”
“Since you’re not taking your eyes off me, I assume you’ll stay at the hotel?”
“Nell is setting me up in an adjoining room. I don’t want any sign of impropriety. At least we’ll have a good meal. There’s nothing to eat in my kitchen except a couple of TV dinners.”
“I’m tired. Sitting around all day watching you check phone records is tedious.”
“That drudgery is ninety percent of police work. Not very exciting, is it?”
“Not very.”
“I’ll call Cash to pull the car around back. He’ll drive you to the hotel. I’ll be right behind in another car, and Beecher will back us up to make sure we’re clear. I hope the bastard
is
following us.”
“You’re the boss.”
Lucier snickered and turned to Diana. “How many times have you ever said that?”
Diana laughed. “Not many.”
Lucier kept an eagle eye out while ushering Diana into the car. He didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean much when dealing with someone like Macon. Cash took a circuitous route to the hotel to verify he didn’t have a tail, Beecher followed far behind, and Lucier took a quicker route to avoid the appearance of a caravan and to check the area in front of the hotel. When nothing struck him as suspicious, he called to give Cash the all-clear.
Lucier waited for Cash’s car and ushered Diana into the hotel and to her room. “Lock the door. I’ll be right back.”
“Promise?”
He had all he could do not to take her in his arms, but this was business, and he was on duty. So to speak. “Promise.” He took the stairs to the main floor and knocked on Nell Devoe’s apartment door.
“Well, if it isn’t the best-looking police lieutenant in New Orleans,” she said in her raspy, cigarette voice.
“Uh-oh, the soft-soap. What is it this time, a parking ticket?”
Nell Devoe, the product of a black prostitute mother and white father she’d never known, burst into a raucous laugh, setting in motion the two assets escaping from her low cut dress, the ones that had made her famous. “Why, Lieutenant, you’re implying I have an ulterior motive. Shame on you.”
“I know you. Whenever I’m handsome or good-looking, you need something. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“Can’t you take a straight compliment, darlin’? But now that you mention it…”
“See, what did I say? Here it comes.”
She tucked her index finger into the corner of her mouth and sucked the tip of her burgundy-polished nail. “Now, Ernie,” she said in a little-girl voice, “a tiny favor hardly worth mentioning.”
“But you will.”
“The other night I hosted a private party in the dining room. We were a little over capacity and wouldn’t you know the fire inspector strolls in. That nasty fellow wrote me up. He’s one of the only men in town I can’t…how shall I say this, persuade?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know even one of his little secrets.”
“Sad but true. Unbelievable, isn’t it?”
Nell was a piece of work. “You don’t have anything on me either, do you?”
“Not yet, but if that psychic lady stays around much longer, bet I will.”
Lucier forced a laugh.
“I can’t have him closing me down, can I? See what you can do for me, will you?”
“Only if your chef whips up one of his special dinners and delivers it to Ms. Racine’s room, along with the very best bottle of Bordeaux you have.”