I called back. "Take your time."

Ben stood straight and tall in cut-off jeans shorts and a gray LSU Athletic Department T-shirt. Every kid in Louisiana was probably issued an LSU T-shirt at birth. He led me through a s.p.a.cious home that was neat and orderly, but still lived-in and comfortable and clearly feminine, with plenty of photographs in delicate frames and pastel colors and plants. The entry led into the family room and the kitchen. Everything was open and casual, with the family room flowing into the dining area, which looked out French doors across a brick patio and a large backyard. Tennis trophies filled the shelves of a wall-sized entertainment center in the family room, but pictures of Ben and books and ceramic animals were crowding out the trophies. I liked that. Balance.

Ben leaned against the counter that separated the kitchen from the family room, watching me. I said, "You play tennis like your mom?"

He nodded.

"She's pretty good, huh?"

He nodded again.

"Can you beat her?"

"Sometimes." He c.o.c.ked his head a little bit to the side and said, "Are you a detective?"

"Doesn't it show?"

He shook his head.

"I left my trench coat at the motel."

"What's a trench coat?"

Times change.

He said, "Is it run?"

"Most of the time it's fun, but not always. You thinking about becoming a detective?"

He shook his head. "I want to be a lawyer like my dad."

I nodded. "That'd be good."

"He practices corporate law in Shreveport. He really goes for the jugular." I wondered where he'd heard that.

Lucy came through the family room and smiled at me.

"Hi."

"Hi, yourself." I held out the flowers. Mr. Charming. "I didn't want to come empty-handed."

"Oh, they're lovely." Her eyes crinkled nicely when she took the flowers, and I flushed with a kind of pleasure that made me return her smile. She was wearing khaki hiking shorts and a loose white cotton top and sandals, and she seemed relaxed and comfortable in her home. Looking at her made me feel relaxed, too. "Let's put them in water."

Ben said, "Can I set the coals?"

"Not too many."

Ben ran out the back, slamming through the French doors. Someone had set up a Weber grill on the patio, and he went to work with the coals. Lucy said, "I picked up potato salad and cole slaw from the market. I thought we'd grill hamburgers since we're going to work Something simple."

"Hamburgers are great."

"Would you like a gla.s.s of wine?"

"Please. That would be nice."

She took an unopened bottle of Sonoma-Cutre Chardonnay from her refrigerator, offered it to me with a corkscrew, and asked if I'd mind opening it. She put out two winegla.s.ses, then used kitchen shears to trim the flowers before placing them in a simple gla.s.s vase. I poured the wine. When the flowers were finished, she said, "They're absolutely lovely."

"Drab. Drab and plain next to you."

She laughed. "Tell me, do all men from Los Angeles come on this strong?"

"Only those of us with an absolute confidence in our abilities."

The laugh became a smile, then she put on the red reading gla.s.ses and motioned at the folder, jammed with the doc.u.ments and handwritten notes and phone bills. "Why don't you tell me what happened while I see what we have?"

I went through everything that had happened since I'd last seen her, up to where Ren+! and LeRoy brought me to Milt's farm. I had arranged the papers with the state doc.u.ments on top, so she saw those first. As I spoke, a vertical frown line appeared between her eyebrows and she no longer looked happy and relaxed. She said, "These are real. These are court-sealed doc.u.ments. How could he get these?"

"I don't know."

"Illegally possessing these is a felony under state law. They're numbered and referenced, and I can have their authenticity checked, but these are real. These papers do in fact show that Jodi Taylor was born Maria Johnson. I can't believe he has these."

"Had."

Ben came in to tell us that the coals were ready to be fired and Lucy went outside to make sure he did it safely. I sat at the counter with my wine, watching them, and found myself smiling. Ben struck the big safety matches and tossed them on the coals while Lucy supervised. They looked comfortable and at ease with each other, and you could see Lucy in his features and in the confident way he carried himself. Reflections. When the flames were rising and the grill was in place, Lucy returned and smiled at me smiling at her. She said, "What?"

"You guys look good together. Happy. I like that."

She turned and looked at her son. He had left the grill and was climbing into a pecan tree. A knotted rope hung from the limbs, just like the tree in the front yard, but he didn't use the rope. She said, "You seem to have pa.s.sed the test."

"What test?"

"He's leaving us alone. He's very protective of me."

"Does he have to guard you often?"

She looked smug. "Often enough, thank you." She took two plates from the Sub-Zero, one with hamburger patties and the other with sliced onions and tomatoes and lettuce, both covered with Saran Wrap, and put them out to warm. She returned to the file, now skimming Rebenack's handwritten notes. "Who's Leon Williams?"

"I don't know, but you can tell from what's written that these are the notes Rebenack made when he was digging into Jodi's past, so Williams might be significant."

Lucy made a note on the legal pad. "I've got a friend at the Baton Rouge Police Department. I'll see if they have anything."

"Okay. Here's where it gets worse." I showed her Jimmie Ray's phone bills. I pointed out the long distance calls. "Do you recognize these phone numbers?"

She shook her head. "They're calls to Los Angeles."

"This is Sid. This is Jodi. Rebenack had at least seven conversations with Sid Markowitz over the past five months."

Lucy didn't move for a very long time, and then she left the kitchen. She came back a few minutes later with a leather datebook jammed with notes and papers and business cards. She opened it to a phone index and compared the numbers she found there with the numbers on the phone bill. She shook her head. "Sid never mentioned this to me."

"Nor to me." I pointed out the longest call. "Three days after this call Rebenack deposited thirty thousand dollars into a checking account. He used the money to buy a car."

"Do you think he's blackmailing them?"

"He admitted it." I told her about Jimmie Ray and Milt and Luther.

"But blackmail doesn't make sense. Jodi's never kept her adoption a secret, and even if she had, so what? What could he blackmail them with?"

I spread my hands. "I guess that's what we still have to figure out, and it doesn't end with Jimmie Ray Rebenack. Milt has something going on, too, and I'm also guessing that it involves the Boudreauxs. That's why the sheriff was out at the crawfish farm. That's why the Boudreauxs are scared."

Lucy brought her address book to the kitchen phone and stabbed in a number. She puffed out her cheeks and blew a hiss of breath while she waited. "This is Lucille Chenier calling for Mr. Markowitz. May I speak with him please?" She walked with the phone in a small circle. "You must have him call me as soon as possible. It's urgent. Let me give you my home number." She left the number, then hung up and went through it again with Jodi Taylor. No luck there, either.

I said, "I phoned them, too. They haven't gotten back to me."

She shook her head. "I can't believe they didn't tell us. We've got an Evangeline Parish sheriff involved with a convicted felon and possible blackmail, and no one tells us. Were we hired to uncover information that was already known?"

"Looks that way."

She took off her gla.s.ses, rubbed at her eyes, then a.s.sembled the papers and put them aside. "Enough work, Mr. Cole. More wine."

She held out her gla.s.s, and I poured.

When the coals were ready we brought out the burgers and put them on the grill. They hissed nicely, and soon the silky twilight air was filled with the smell of cooking meat. She had mixed ground sirloin with Worcestershire sauce, and it smelled wonderful. Somewhere a dog barked, and cicadas were making their buzz-saw racket. Ben was still in the tree, hanging upside-down. Lucy called, "Ben, it won't be long. Wash your hands."

Ben dropped out of the tree, but didn't go in. "Can I have a cheeseburger?"

Lucy nodded. "Sure. Elvis?"

"You bet."

She handed me the spatula and went in for the cheese. When she was gone I looked at Ben and caught him grinning at me. I said, "What?"

"She likes you."

"She does?"

He nodded. "I heard her talking to her friend, Marsha. She called you Studly Do-Right." He giggled.

I looked in at his mother and then I looked back at the hamburgers. "She probably wouldn't like it that you told me."

"Why not?"

"Women tell other women things that they don't tell men. It's a law they have."

He giggled some more.

Lucy came back and put cheese on the hamburgers, then covered the grill so that the cheese would melt. Ben and I stood with straight faces until Ben couldn't stand it anymore and giggled. I concentrated on the burgers, hoping that they wouldn't overcook. Ben giggled harder. Lucy said, "What?"

I said, "Nothing." Ben giggled harder.

Lucy smiled. "Hey! What were you guys saying?"

Ben giggled louder and I looked at Lucy. "Studly?"

Lucy turned a deep rich red. "Ben!"

Ben howled. I said, "It wasn't Ben. I am Elvis Cole, the world's greatest detective. I know all and see all, and there can be no secrets from the All-Seeing Eye."

Lucy said, "I hate you both."

Ben put out his hand and I gave him a low-five. Masculine superiority strikes again.

Lucy said, "Benjamin. Wash."

Ben ran into the house, cackling, and Lucy shook her head. "That little traitor."

I said, "Studly."

She waved the spatula at me. "I was just being cute. Don't get any ideas."

"I won't."

"Fine."

"But what do I do with the ones I've got?"

She closed her eyes, maybe envisioning the line we shouldn't cross. "You're really quite something, aren't you?"

"Most people think so."

She opened her eyes and looked at the sky. "Oh, G.o.d."

"Well, no. But close."

Lucy laughed, and I laughed, too.

When the cheese was melted we brought the burgers inside and ate them with the potato salad and cole slaw and the rest of the Sonoma-Cutre. Ben ate quickly, then asked to be excused and raced to the TV so that he could watch Star Trek - The Next Generation. Lucy called after him, "Not too loud!"

I said, "Won't bother rne. I like Star Trek."

Ben yelled, "Cool!"

Lucy shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Oh, Studly." She tilted her gla.s.s toward me. "Pour."

So we watched TNG. It was the one where you follow the android, Data, through a twenty-four-hour period in his life, most of which is spent attempting to comprehend the vagaries of the humans around him. The fun comes in watching the logical, emotionless Data try to make sense of the human condition, which is akin to trying to make sense of the senseless. He never quite gets it, but he always keeps trying, writing endless programs for his android brain, trying to make the calculus of human behavior add up. When you think about it, that is not so different from what I do.

When Star Trek was over I said that I had better be going. I told Ben good night, and Lucy walked me out. I thought that she'd stop at the door, but she didn't. It was a clear night, and pleasant. She said, "Will you drive back to Ville Platte tonight?"

"Yes. There are still plenty of questions and Jimmie Ray might be willing to answer them."