"I'm fine. Fine." Escobar picked up his gla.s.s and seemed almost embarra.s.sed. "Jesus. f.u.c.kin' stupid women." Then he looked over at us and must've seen something in Pike's face. Or maybe in mine. He said, "What?" Hard, again. A flush of the purple, again.

Pike's mouth twitched.

Escobar stared at Joe Pike another few seconds, and then he waved his hand to dismiss us. He said, "I'll think about it, okay? I know where to reach you." He motioned toward the guy in the shirt. "Call these guys a car, huh? Jesus, I gotta get another drink."

He walked out and went back to the little round table and picked up someone's gla.s.s and drank. Nothing like a gin and tonic to take off the edge after tossing a fit, nosireebob. I stared at him.

The guy in the shirt said that he'd call a cab, and we could wait out front. He said the cabs never took long.

Frank had a deal. He said we could take a sandwich, if we wanted. Joe Pike told him to f.u.c.k himself.

We walked out past the pool and down the drive and into the street. The little boy was riding the Big Wheel round and round in circles, looping up into one driveway then along the sidewalk and then down the next drive and into the street again. He looked like a happy and energetic child.

Pike and I stood watching him, and Pike said, "Be a shame to drop the hammer on his old man."

I didn't answer.

"But it wouldn't be so bad, either."

Chapter 33.

W e were stopped for speeding outside St. Gabriel, Louisiana, and again outside Livonia , but we pa.s.sed under Milt Rossier's sign at just after five that evening as the air was beginning to lose the worst of the day's heat. The people who worked the ponds were trudging their way toward the processing sheds and the women who worked the sheds were walking out to their cars. Quitting time. Everybody moved with a sort of listless shuffle, as if their lot was to break their backs for Milt Rossier all day, then go home and break their backs some more. It wasn't the way you walk when your body has failed you; it was the way you walk when you've run out of heart, when the day-today has worn away the hope and left you with nothing but another tomorrow that will be exactly like today. It would be the way Holly Escobar would walk in another few years. We drove up past the processing sheds like we owned the place and headed toward the house. The women on their way home didn't look, or, if they looked, didn't care. It's not like we had a big sign painted on the car, THE ENEMY. Pike said, "This is easy."

"What'd you expect, pill boxes?"

We could see the main house from between the processing sheds, and the little figure of Milt Rossier, sitting out on his lawn furniture, still wearing the sun hat. Ren+! LaBorde was standing out between the ponds, staring at their flat surfaces, and didn't seem to notice us, but LeRoy Bennett was coming out of the processing shed with one of the skinny foremen when we pa.s.sed. He yelled something, then started running after us. He'd have a pretty long run. His Polara was parked at the house.

We drove the quarter mile or so up to the house and left our car on the drive by LeRoy's Polara. The house looked pretty much deserted except for a heavy-set black woman we saw in the living room and Milt Rossier back on the patio. We were going around the side of the house when Milt met us, coming to see who we were. He was in overalls and the wide hat, and he was carrying a gla.s.s of iced tea. I said, "Hi, Milt, remember me?"

Milt Rossier pulled up short, surprised. He knew me, but he'd never seen Pike before, and when Pike took out his .357 and let Rossier see it, the old man said, "Well, G.o.dd.a.m.n."

Pike said, "Let's go back to the patio. Comfortable there."

Rossier looked back at me. "We ran you outta here. I thought you left."

I said, "Everybody always thinks that, Milt, and everybody's usually wrong."

Pike said, "The patio." Down below us, LeRoy Bennett was yelling for Ren+! to get his a.s.s up to the house. Ren+! looked our way, but you couldn't be sure what he saw or what he was thinking.

Rossier frowned at Pike's gun and then we went back to the patio. I said, "Sit down, Milt. We've got a business proposition."

Milt Rossier eased his bulk down into one of the white lawn chairs, and Pike lowered the gun. Rossier said, "Somebody got to old Jimmie Ray. I told you he'd stop messin' with that little gal, and he has. I thought we were shut of that." He tried looking at me, but he kept glancing at Pike and the gun. Nervous.

I smiled. "Not that kind of business, Milt." LeRoy Bennett was a white midget down between the ponds, arms and legs pumping as he ran toward us. Rene" La-Borde was finally headed our way, walking with a stiff-legged lumbering gait like Frankenstein's monster. I said, "Milt, here's the word. You're gettin' screwed by Donaldo Prima, and we can double your money."

When I said Donaldo Prima the old man's face tightened and he tried to put down the iced tea, but he missed the little table and it shattered on the patio. Just like Frank Escobar. Maybe poor hand-eye went with a life of crime. He said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

I looked at Joe Pike. "Man, these guys come up with the good lines, don't they, Joe?"

Pike didn't move. LeRoy was closer, and Pike was watching him. Ren+! was still down between the ponds, but he was getting up a head of steam. I guess Pike was thinking about having to shoot them.

I said, "You and Donaldo are moving illegal aliens upriver through bayous upon which you hold the leases. Donaldo deals with the people down south and contracts with the illegals, and you provide inter-coastal transportation and a secure location through which they can enter the country."

Rossier was waving his hands, feeling panicked and trying to push up out of the chair. "I don't know any of that. I don't know what in h.e.l.l you're talking about." Pike leaned forward and shoved him back. Rossier swatted at Pike's hand the way you would swat at an aggravating gnat, and Pike palmed him hard once on the top of the head. Milt stopped the swatting. "I don't know any Prima or illegal alien nonsense or anything else. You'd better get out of here right G.o.dd.a.m.n now 'fore I call the law!" Giving us an old man's outrage.

I held up two fingers. "Two words, Milt. Frank Escobar."

He stopped sputtering, and his eyes focused on me.

"Escobar controls the coyote scene through the port of New Orleans and the intercoastal region. We left him a couple of hours ago. Prima used to work for Escobar, but now he's gone into business for himself with you, and Escobar doesn't like it that Prima's taking his business. Prima's getting the business because he's cutting prices, and Escobar likes that even less. You following me with this, Milt?"

Milt was squinting at me big time now.

"And because Prima's charging less, you are getting less. Do you see? You're getting, what, a grand a head for your end?"

Now Milt wasn't bothering with the denials. We were with the money, and when you're with the money you have their attention.

"Frank will give you two grand apiece, Milt. Double your money. If you're getting one load of illegals a week, thirty people on average, that's thirty thousand a week, one hundred twenty thousand a month from Mr. Prima. But Frank doubles it. The thirty becomes sixty. The one-twenty becomes two hundred forty thousand per month, every month, just for using Escobar and cutting out Prima. Are we talking about the same thing, now, Milt?"

LeRoy Bennett chugged up to the patio, winded and barely able to keep his feet. He saw the gun in Pike's hand and clawed under his shirt, trying for his own piece. Pike punched him once in the side of the face. Bennett dropped. Pike bent over and disarmed him. Pike said, "Some muscle."

Rossier stared at LeRoy thoughtfully and said, "I am surrounded by dunces."

I made a little shrug.

Rossier shook his head and settled back into the lawn furniture. "Well, I guess you're the new Jimmie Ray Rebenack, aren't you? He thought he tripped over Easy Street, too. Look where he is."

"Milt, Jimmie Ray and I aren't even from the same planet. Don't forget that and we'll be okay."

Ren+! lumbered up and stopped at LeRoy, and then he looked at Joe Pike, and the big body gave a shudder. His eyes focused, and he stepped across LeRoy and Pike brought up the Python. "I'll kill him."

Milt Rossier screamed, "Ren+!! G.o.dd.a.m.n it, you stop right there, Ren+!!" The old man's face was mottled, and he looked close to apoplexy.

Ren+! looked confused. LeRoy moaned, then rolled over and saw Ren+! staring down at him. "Don't just stand there, you dumb f.u.c.k, help me up."

Ren+! picked up LeRoy as if he were made of air. LeRoy hobbled to one of the lawn chairs, holding his side. "Got a G.o.dd.a.m.ned st.i.tch from d' run."

Pike said, "Exercise."

Bennett scowled. "You f.u.c.k. We'll see 'bout it, sometime, heh?"

Pike said, "Unh-hunh."

Rossier said, "Forget all that right now. We're talkin' business." He looked back at me. "What do you get out of this?"

"We get what Escobar pays you for the first delivery. Call it sixty thousand." Big lies are always easier.

"Bulls.h.i.t."

"What's the bulls.h.i.t, Milt? I'm brokering the deal. You would've kept going with Prima because you don't know any better, with him laughing behind your back. I've figured it out for you, and I've set it up. Your money doubles right away, and for this service, Joe and myself get exactly one week's take. After that it's all yours. You recoup in two weeks over what you were making from Prima." I gestured to Joe Pike. "Seems fair to me, Joe. How about you?"

Pike nodded. "Fair."

You could see Milt Rossier working it through, thinking about all that free money just for giving the spics a place to dock their boats. Convincing himself. That's the way the best cons work, they convince themselves. He said, "Frank Escobar, huh?"

I said, "Let me give you a couple of pointers, Milt. Two a head is top end, so don't start thinking you can get Prima to pay more. Frank is looking for what we call exclusivity here, and he will want to make sure that Donaldo is permanently out of the picture. Do we understand each other?"

"Unh-hunh."

"Frank wants you to let Prima bring in another load, only this time we'll all be out there at the pumping station together. Prima won't know about Frank and Frank's people, of course, because if he did, he wouldn't show. When he shows, Frank wants to pay him back personally, you see?"

Milt Rossier was shaking his head. "He don't need me there for that."

"Yeah, Milt, he does. Frank figures that if you'll sell out Prima, you'll sell out him, too, so you guys are going to have to make a marriage out there. No marriage, no two grand per. Two hundred forty thou every month, Milt. Prima won't be going home, but everybody else lives happily ever after."

Milt Rossier was thinking about it.

I gave him the phone number that Ramon del Reyo had given me. "I'm giving you a number to call. Call it if you want, or not. Up to you. It's not Escobar, but it's his people. If you're interested, check out if the deal is real. If not, blow it off. Your choice."

He took the little slip and looked at it. "What's to keep me from cutting you out?"

"Milt, you don't live in a fortress. You cut us out, you're over."

Pike twitched the .357.

LeRoy Bennett said, "Oh. Yeah."

Milt Rossier stared at Pike for a time, then glanced over at LeRoy. LeRoy was feeling a little better, but his eye was swelling where Pike had hit him. It probably didn't inspire confidence. Rossier said, "I've gotta think on it. How can I let you know?"

I told him where we were staying in Baton Rouge, and then Pike and I started back around the house. Milt Rossier called after us. "Hey."

We turned back.

Rossier said, "Podnuh, if either of you ever pull a gun on me again, you'd best use it."

I smiled at him. "Milt, if we pull a gun on you again, we will."

Chapter 34.

W hen we got back to Baton Rouge I called Jodi Taylor's room from the lobby and got no answer. The desk clerk told me that she had checked out sometime in the early afternoon and that she had left neither note nor message. He said that she seemed distraught. Hearing that she had gone created an empty feeling in my chest, as if I had somehow left a job unfinished and, because of it, had performed beneath myself. I said, "Well, d.a.m.n."Pike said, "It's a good night. Clear. I'm going for a run." The lobby was empty except for Pike and myself and the clerk. Desultory voices leaked from the bar. "Come with me."

"Give me a chance to make some calls."

He nodded. "Meet you out front."

We rode up to our rooms, and I changed into shorts and running shoes and then called Lucy. I told her what had happened with Escobar and Rossier and that there was nothing left to do except wait and see if Rossier would go for it. I asked her if she'd heard from Jodi Taylor. Lucy said, "Yes. And from Sid Markowitz. Sid is saying that they'll sue. I'm not so sure that Jodi wants that, but she sounds upset and confused."

"Did she say anything about Edith Boudreaux?"

"No."

Neither of us spoke for a time, and then Lucy said, "Studly?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Ben's going to bed at ten. You could come over and we could neck in the car."

"Pike and I are going for a run. It's been a h.e.l.luva day."

She sighed. "Just so you know."

"I knew there was a reason I called you."

We hung up and I phoned Jo-el Boudreaux next. I told him exactly what I had told Lucy, and when I was done he said, "Did they go for it?"

"We'll see. Rossier will dig around to see if we're legit, and when he finds out we have something working with Escobar, he'll decide."

"Okay. Then what?"

"He'll call me here. When he calls, I call Escobar. We won't have much time, so you have to be ready."

"I can get my guys in five minutes. Bet your a.s.s on that one, podnuh."

"Whatever."

Pike was waiting out on the cement drive at the hotel's entry, stretching his hamstrings. I joined him, bending deep from the hips until my face was buried between my knees, then sitting with my legs in a great wide V and bending forward until my chest was on the cement. After a day spent mostly driving, and with the tension of dealing with criminal subhumans, it felt good to work my muscles. Maybe I wasn't down about Jodi Taylor after all. Maybe I had merely grown loggy from a lack of proper exercise and was in serious need of oxygenation. Sure. That was it. What's bailing out on a client compared to proper physical conditioning?

Pike did a hundred pushups, then flipped over and lay with his legs straight up against the wail and did a hundred situps. I did the same. The kid from the front desk came out and watched, standing in the door so he could keep an eye on the desk. He said, "Man, you guys are flexible. Goin' for a run?"

"That's right."

"Gotta be careful where you run. We got some bad areas."

I said, "Thanks."

"I'm not kidding. The downtown isn't great. Any direction you go, you're gonna run into the blacks."