A Cold Day in Hell (12 page)

Sarah was a chemist at one of her adoptive mother Delia Board’s labs just out of Pointe Judah. She worked on whipping up cosmetics formulas. Animals weren’t used in the process. She’d never thought of dissecting humans but now she took a good look at Cooper with his sagging grin, the idea developed appeal.

“You’re joshing me,” Cooper said. “Chemists don’t look like you, blondie. You’re a looker.”

Apparently he liked her short, spiked hair and the makeup job she felt was her duty, given her occupation.

“She’s too tall for you,” the other man said. “Too thin.”

“Nice eyes, though,” Cooper said. “Nothing like a pair of big blue eyes, unless it’s a pair of big casabas.” He stared at her chest.

“She’s got those,” his analytical buddy said. “I like more hip, myself, though.”

“Okay, boys.” The group hadn’t seen Matt Boudreaux come in with Angel. “Order what you want—politely—and move away. Or leave.” He wasn’t in uniform, but Matt assumed typical cop stance, feet apart, hands on hips.

Matt was a commanding man. He and Angel made a formidable pair.

“We was just joshin’,” the blond guy said and winked.

Angel leaned forward and caught Leland’s eye. The man straightened up and cleared his throat. He gave what passed for a respectful nod.

“Aren’t these two of ours?” Angel said, indicating the newly arrived jokers. He looked at them. “You out at The Willows, boys?”

Both men nodded and Sarah expected them to start pawing the floor with their boots.

“Get home and sober up,” Angel said. “If you work for Duhon, you work sober and smart. You be on the job that way first thing. Got that?”

“Yessir,” they chorused and almost fell over each other getting out of the place. They didn’t even notice Gracie when she passed them on the way back to the bar.

She glanced at Matt and Angel who both nodded. Once she passed Angel, she craned her neck to look over her shoulder at him, and he must have felt her eyes on him. He stared back at her and frowned.

“Time to go,” Rusty said, and left with Gracie.

Angel turned back to Leland. “Was Bucky Smith on the job today?”

Leland shook his head slowly. “Don’t even know who he is.”

“You sure?” Matt said.

“Yeah.” Leland pursed his mouth. He turned around and pulled Chuck Moggeridge forward.

And Sarah held her breath. Sabine lifted her heavy braids off her neck with both hands and muttered, “Matt knows about him. Does Angel?”

“No idea,” Sarah said. “Poor Eileen. I never met this creep before, but he’s a loser.”

“Big-time,” Sabine said. “He just about ruined Eileen’s life.”

“We could use more hands, couldn’t we, boss?” Leland said to Angel.

Angel had hooked his wallet from a pocket and was taking out some bills. He looked up and saw Chuck—at just about the same time as Matt’s eyes settled on the man.

“Moggeridge,” Matt snapped. “What are you doin’ here?”

“The henhouse got left open,” Sabine said under her breath. “Get ready to collect feathers.”

Angel and Chuck locked eyes. “It’s a free country,” Chuck told Matt. “I like Pointe Judah.”

“This is Chuck Moggeridge—”

“I know who he is,” Angel said, interrupting Leland, and placed money on the counter deliberately.

Leland had the slack, careless appearance of an oblivious drunk. “We could use him, boss,” he said to Angel. “He’s been on the rigs, so he knows how to work. Done some construction, too.”

“What is it?” Matt said to Angel suddenly. “What’s goin’ on here?”

“Sixth sense,” Sarah said to Sabine. “He smells bad apples. I guess that’s why he’s the police chief.”

Sabine giggled, but stopped abruptly when Angel ignored Matt and took a step toward Chuck. “Here it comes,” she said.

“Nice to see you again,” Angel said. “You ever worked construction? For real?”

“I have. Framing.”

Angel’s cool gray eyes narrowed. “We’ve got plenty of framing to be done, right Leland?”

“Right,” Leland said cheerfully.

“Report for work first thing in the morning,” Angel said. “Leland and I run a tight ship.”

Chuck let his breath out in a whistle. “Why would you hire me?”

Sarah raised her eyebrows. The guy had a funny way of responding to a job offer.

“You can’t think of a reason?” Angel said. When he crossed his arms and flexed his shoulders he was even more intimidating.

Chuck’s eyes moved from Angel’s chest, to the floor, to the ceiling and back at Angel. “No.”

“Maybe there doesn’t have to be one,” Angel said. “Except we need the hands and there aren’t many spare ones in these parts, not if they’re skilled and they want to work. And I put business before pleasure. Fair enough?”

“Yessir.”

“’Night, Moggeridge,” Angel said.

Chuck took an instant to process his dismissal but eventually nodded, and gave a mock salute. When he’d passed Angel, he looked back and hatred surfaced briefly in Chuck’s face. Then he left, his gait unsteady.

“Are you gonna tell me about all that?” Matt said. “I didn’t know you knew the guy.”

“Later,” Angel told him. He turned back to Leland. “The guys who share a place with Bucky came to me.”

“They’d already been to me,” Matt added. “I’m not a happy man. I’ve already got enough trouble around here.”

“With that Emma Duhon and her phantom whip man?” Leland said, sniggering. “I was telling the ladies how wigged-out they get when they’re pregnant. I’d put that one to bed if I was you.”

Matt’s sixth sense helped him out again. Making a move toward the bar, he stepped between Leland and Angel. “Less you say on that subject, the better,” he told Leland in a even voice. “Angel and the Duhons are tight.”

Leland, on delay, looked aghast. “I know that. What I said was just a guy thing. Just a joke. Maybe I’d better get going.”

“Go,” Matt said. “But we’ve asked around and nobody remembers seeing Bucky Smith since he was at Ona’s last night.”

“Not my problem,” Leland said.

“Sure as hell is,” Angel shot at him. “If we’ve got workers missing from shifts, it’s your problem. Playing babysitter to the crews is your job, not mine. Now go dredge him up from wherever he’s been sleeping it off. When you find him, tell him this is his free one. If he messes up again, he doesn’t have a job anymore. Duhon’s doesn’t carry any deadweight.”

E
arly the next afternoon, Finn and Angel hovered near the private elevator in Finn’s suite of offices at the old Oakdale Mansion.

“Matt’ll be on his way up shortly,” Finn told Angel. “No heroics, okay?”

Angel was uncomfortable with Finn’s plan to tell Eileen it had been he, not Angel, who wanted to call in the cops. “Coming clean with Matt was my idea.”

“I agreed with you,” Finn said. “And I didn’t mention how pissed he’s going to be because you didn’t tell him everything days ago.”

“You have now.” Angel had to smile.

“Listen up,” Finn said. “I know my sister. She’s hard-headed. Like you said, she wanted to contact Matt herself but you talked her out of it. She’s likely to blow if she thinks you’ve gone to Matt on your own now. So when she gets here we’ll say I sent for him. It’s true.”

“She’s been avoiding me for two days,” Angel said. He didn’t add that he’d moved on from feeling lousy, to feeling mad and lousy about Eileen shutting him out. “I usually stop by at closing time, but she’s making sure she isn’t there. Before I came up here today, I went to the shop to see her. She bolted into the stockroom and wouldn’t come out. I had two choices—make a fool of both of us in front of her customers or leave.”

“She did that?” Finn cleared his throat. He had the kind of sharp, hazel eyes that snapped when he was amused and he was amused now.

“Don’t you damn-well laugh,” Angel said, smiling himself. “She won’t come up here, either, not once she figures out I’m around.”

“She won’t figure it out until she’s here,” Finn said. “But Matt’s going to arrive first. She’d be too embarrassed to make a fuss in front of him.”

Angel inclined his head. “Seems sneaky. She’s going to pick up on that.”

Before Finn could respond, the elevator bumped to a stop and the doors slid open to reveal Matt, in uniform and looking much too official. Or should that be, officious? He also looked like a man who hadn’t slept recently.

“Afternoon,” Finn said. “Thanks for coming.”

Matt had taken off his hat and the impression of the band flattened a circle in his dark, curly hair. He walked between Angel and Finn and carried on through the foyer toward Finn’s office.

Finn and Angel looked at each other briefly before following. As far as Angel knew there was no reason for Matt to arrive with a burr under his saddle.

Angel noted how Matt looked over the tangerine walls and animal prints on furnishings. Everyone did. Emma was responsible for the bold decor.

“Coffee?” Finn asked.

“Yeah,” Matt said. “And I didn’t get lunch so if there’s any food around, I’ll eat it.”

Coffee was always ready in Finn’s office. The same went for Angel’s. He had his own quarters here although he rarely used them, preferring to work from home or be out in the field.

“I’ll get the coffee,” Angel said. “For you, too, Finn?”

He got a grunt in return and filled three comfortingly stained mugs. Finn started hauling plates out of a refrigerator behind a paneled door that made the appliance look like part of the wall.

“Half a corned beef sandwich,” Finn said. “That place down by Poke Around does good stuff. They bring up a selection. Ham and Swiss. A slightly stale muffuletta. There’s some gumbo I can heat in the microwave. And a couple of different sausages. Then there’s apples and an orange—”

“Ham and Swiss,” Matt said, curling his lip at the mention of fruit. “Don’t heat it. I’ll eat it like it is.” He sat behind Finn’s desk and hunched over the vast sandwich. He ate big bites between swallows of coffee. He emptied his mug and Angel got him a refill

“It didn’t sink in until after you took off last night,” Matt said when Angel put another steaming mug in front of him. “What the hell made you agree to hire Chuck Moggeridge?”

“We’re shorthanded.”

“Don’t give me that,” Matt said. “You do know who he is?”

“Sure. Eileen’s ex-husband.”

“So you hate his guts, right?” Matt said.

Angel didn’t want to consider Matt’s attitude toward Moggeridge when it obviously sprang from feelings for Eileen. “Okay. If you’re going to push the issue. I want the man where I can watch him, or have him watched for me. I want to be sure he doesn’t get anywhere near Eileen.”

Matt grunted. He swallowed his coffee and turned his attention to Finn. “I’m not in the mood for any crap,” he said. “So go easy, if you don’t mind. I’m not responsible for what other people say. And I can’t help it if we’ve got malignant gossips in this town.”

Angel wanted Finn to lure Eileen up here before they got into any discussion, but Matt’s rapid-fire announcements were delaying the plan. What was he talking about now?

From the distracted way Finn replaced rejected food in the refrigerator, he was as stymied as Angel.

“We didn’t find anything,” Matt said around a mouthful of his sandwich. “We searched. Shit, I’ve had everyone I could spare going through that parking lot and there’s not a thing there that doesn’t belong. It doesn’t help that the purse and notebook were found inside Ona’s. But that doesn’t mean I approve of big mouths suggesting Emma’s having some sort of breakdown because she’s pregnant.” He pointed at Finn. “I’m doin’ my best, so stay off my case.”

Angel withdrew a distance with his coffee. He’d been told Leland Garolfo made some comment about Emma at the Boardroom a couple of nights earlier, right before Matt and Angel had arrived. “Lets move on,” he said, hoping for a lucky break.

He didn’t get one. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Finn said. “Who told you that? When?”

“I can’t divulge my sources,” Matt said. “You want to take numbers and kick ass? Make your own list—without me.” He hadn’t encountered a razor in too many hours and the dark stubble on his jaw gave him a dangerous look.

Finn walked to stand over Matt. “If someone’s suggesting Emma made something up, I want a name, or names.”

“Hey, hey,” Angel said. “It’s not worth it. These people don’t have enough to do with their time, so they gab.”

“Emma’s all scratched up and bruised. Mitch Halpern wants her to take things easy. And some light-brain calls her names, says stuff about her? Oh, no, no, I don’t think so.”

Matt pushed back from the desk, his mug cradled in both hands. “I want you to forget about this, okay, Finn? I don’t have any evidence that Emma was attacked. Nothing other than what she says.” He glanced into Finn’s eyes and held up a hand. “I believe her, of course. I won’t stop askin’ questions and keeping my ears open.”

He set down the mug, leaned to put his elbows on the desk and scrubbed at his hair. “I know you’ve got this Bucky Smith on your minds, too. Someone has to have seen him in three days but we can’t find a trace of him.”

Finn and Angel shared another look. This was their business, but not what they’d had in mind when they called Matt. “I know he’s not back,” Angel said. “When he does show up we’ll just fire his ass, so why spend time on him?”

Matt looked up, his face deadly serious. “That place where he lives. All of his stuff is there. Not his wallet or credit cards. But his car and the keys are there. He got a ride to Ona’s.”

“Did he?” Angel got a nasty sensation deep in his belly. Again no real and sinister evidence yet. But he had something he wanted to share with Matt about bullets through a skylight. There was evidence of that.

“Think,” Matt said. “Who does Bucky Smith hang out with?”

Angel thought about it. “I can’t tell you because I don’t know.”

Matt looked at Finn, who also shook his head.

“If I didn’t have to cope with all the interference in this town, I could move things along faster,” Matt said. “What I’ve got here is a big, fat nothing being made into something by Lobelia Forestier and gang. They’re getting in my way. Lobelia’s got everyone asking if Bucky could have done the number on Emma, then ducked out of town.”

“Well, could he?” Angel asked promptly.

Matt didn’t look pleased. “If we could find him I could pursue that line of investigation, couldn’t I?”

“Could I have a little silence?” Finn asked. He pressed a button on his phone, switched to Speaker, and after two rings Angel heard Eileen pick up. “Sis?” Finn said. “Could you do me a favor?”

A pause. “Depends on the favor.”

“You got any help down there so you could leave for a few?”

Another pause. “Yes. What do you need?”

Angel looked at the other men’s faces. Matt appeared entertained. “Er, Emma’s going to come up later this afternoon. I want her to rest up here where I can see her.”

Matt looked irritated at being held up. He turned his palms up and made small “come on, come on” signals with his fingers.

“This place doesn’t look one bit like Christmas,” Finn continued. “Emma loves Christmas. This year she’s not up to doing what she likes to do, so I’m going to have to fill in for her. Do you have something I could put up here to cheer her up? One of those arrangements with all the berries and junk? The ones you women think smell nice. Or an angel with the little lights in the wings? How about…I saw something…” He looked engaged with his subject. “A big snow globe. Doesn’t matter what’s inside. The kind you switch on to keep the snow moving and the music playing at the same time.”

A suspicious little croak came from the speaker. Then Eileen said, “Leave it to me. Give me half an hour to get something together.” She hung up.

Matt shook his head slowly. “Thoughtful of you, Finn,” he said. “Are we finished here then? You understand I’m doing my best with the parking-lot thing and your missing guy. I’ll get back to you.”

“No,” Angel said. “Yes, about the parking lot and Bucky. But if Emma says she was attacked, she was attacked and you’d better get whoever did it.”

A long, blunt fingered leveled at Angel. “You don’t get to tell me my duty. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Matt got up.

“Matt, Angel means that’s not why we asked you to come here,” Finn said quickly. “We’re not trying to be offensive—even though we’re making a good job of it. We’ve got a lot on our hands here.”

“Really?” Matt dropped back in his seat. “Oh, good. Just tell me if you really think we’ve got nothing more sinister than a crazy running around town cooking up rumors just when we’re expecting folks to come from all around for the fair. If that’s the case, I’d like to know it because you’d be saving me a lot of headaches and I could turn the thing over to Clemens or Sampson to practice on. But I’ll still have to figure out if and what happened to Emma and if it had anything to do with Bucky going missing. It was the same night, for God’s sake. And as far as we know, Bucky was last seen at Ona’s.”

“I don’t see how those two things could be tied together,” Finn said.

Angel agreed. He wanted to spin this out so Eileen could be there and hear what was said about the shooting at his place the other night. If she witnessed the conversation, she wouldn’t second-guess the message.

“Angel and I have been talking,” Finn said. “We decided we needed to fill you in on something.”

There was no way to warn Finn to slow down the telling, but Angel sure wanted to.

Matt turned to him. “You and Finn? What’s the big mystery?”

“Just let me think my way through it,” Angel said, avoiding Finn’s eyes.

“Maybe you could have thought your way through it and stopped by the station?” Matt did look tired.

“Angel’s been having problems with Eileen, and—” Finn closed his mouth.

Matt checked his fingernails.

Angel said, “What Finn means to say is we’d like Eileen to be here while I talk about this and it’s easier, and less stressful for her, if we meet here. We haven’t told her you’re here. That way, she can’t get uptight ahead of time.”

“Really?” Matt’s tongue slid around inside one of his cheeks.

“There was a shooting at Angel’s place,” Finn said, his face growing tight as it tended to do when he was losing his temper. “You aren’t here to referee some lovers’ tiff—this is serious.”

Angel couldn’t believe what his friend had just said.

“A shooting,” Matt repeated. He turned his face up to Angel. “At your place?”

“Yes,” Angel said. “Three nights ago.”

“And you’re just getting around to reporting it? At least you could have told me last night.”

“Y’know, Matt. It’s probably not the right way to be, but when you’ve been doing your own dirty work for a long time you can get in the habit of taking care of things.”

“Only this time you didn’t manage to do that?” Matt said, his tone innocent.

“Okay,” Angel said. “Lay it on me. Let me have it if it makes you feel better.” He wouldn’t mention that since he was protecting Sonny, he still had his own official capacity, even if it didn’t exactly fit this situation. “Here.” He dropped a small plastic bag containing two slugs on the desk.

Matt bent over them, looked from Angel to Finn. “These are in bad shape,” he said of the bullets. “They won’t do us much good, but the casings surely could. Either of the bullets do real damage?”

“Just to my bathroom,” Angel said.

“Someone shot through his skylight,” Finn added.

“I went after him but I was too late,” Angel told Matt. “I did find the one casing in a gutter after it got light.”