House of Blues (39 page)

She opened her trunk and pretended to look for it.
The gift wouldn't be there, of course, and she'd say she had to go
back to her office to get it. Still, she wished she'd never spoken to
the gardener.

She thought she heard something behind her, and she
was conscious of a blur—sornething in motion. And then a searing
pain at the back of her skull, the thin part, she had been told.
 

24

Her hands wouldn't move. When she tried to wiggle her
fingers, make a fist, anything, she couldn't. Worse, she had no
feeling in them. She was alive, though, because her head was killing
her. It must be a nightmare. She willed herself to wake up.

Her eyes flew open.

She was in a room she'd never seen before, a hotel
room perhaps, but a very fancy one, so well done it looked almost
like a real room in someones house.

She wasn't alone. Another woman sat in a chair in the
middle of the room, reading a magazine, facing away from her.

She tried to sit up but she couldn't. Her hands were
above her head, attached to the bed, like Jesus on the cross. This
was no nightmare, except metaphorically. She could see them if she
looked up, secured to the headboard with duct tape.

She remembered the name, "Anna Garibaldi."
Could that be Garibaldi in the chair?

"Anna? Are you Anna Garibaldi?"

The woman turned toward her. "You're awake. I
was worried about you."

Skip recognized her face. "Reed Hebert."

"Reed Foucher, actually. How do you know me?"

"
Jesus shit." Skip had just realized the
import of the situation.

"What's happening here?"

"Do your hands hurt? I wish I could help you."
She twisted so Skip could see that she was handcuffed.

Okay, so she was Reed Hebert and she was a prisoner.
"Sally!"

Frantically, she swiveled her head, looking for the
little girl she knew wasn't there.

"You know me, and you know Sally, but you're not
one of them. What are you?"

"A cop."

"Oh, shit."

"
Yeah. Not exactly the cavalry. Where's Sally?"

"
Here somewhere. She's fine, but we're all
prisoners."

"Who is we?"

"
Sally, me, and my sister Evie."

Skip nodded. "I know about Evie."

Reed's face was suddenly alarmed. She'd apparently
realized Skip probably had news. "My dad! You must know—"

"
I'm sorry, Reed. He didn't make it."

She looked away. "I knew that. I don't know why
I asked."

"
How did you know?"

"I felt it." Reed turned toward her again,
her moment of mourning past. "How's my mom? And Dennis?"

"Your mom's okay, and Grady's okay."

"You know Grady?"

"At this point I know just about everybody you
do. I'm Skip Langdon, by the way."

"Oh. Don Langdon's daughter. Your parents are
regulars at Hebert's."

Skip realized that if she had met Arthur, he would
have known her too. She had been in the paper more than once since
she got transferred to Homicide; New Orleans being a village of about
half a million, and her dad being a popular doctor among the Uptown
set, she had a certain dubious fame. It made her uncomfortable, but
she was used to it.

Reed said, "You didn't say how Dennis is."

"He isn't hurt, it isn't that. It's, uh . . ."
She didn't know how to break it to Reed.

"He's using again."

"I'm afraid so."

She looked away, and when she turned back, her face
was wet. "Oh, Evie, why did you do this?" she asked the
wall.

"Look, Reed, I know about Evie coming to your
parents' house and taking Sally. I know about you following. But
that's all I know. Where are we? Who's holding us prisoner?"

"We're near Bayou St. John."

"I know that. I meant, what is this place?"

"
All I know is I followed Evie here, and some
people were leaving. I called to them to help me, but they didn't,
although Lafayette Goodyear looked like he was going to."

"Wait a minute. You knew these people?"

"Sure, they're all members of the casino board.
You know, Hebert's is going to run the restaurant in the casino."

"Yes." The whole city knew that.

"Well, when we were trying to get the
concession, I had to appear before the board a lot—and then go talk
to everybody and have lunch, all that kind of thing too. So, yes, I
know them.

"I know them well.

"And they just stood there and watched me and my
daughter get kidnapped."

Skip felt an icy hand clutch at her insides.

"Maybe they didn't recognize me." She
paused, staring into space. "But I did call them by name. I
guess they didn't realize what was happening."

I cannot believe the lengths to which the civilized
human will go to make excuses.

Anything to avoid the all-too-obvious conclusion.

She didn't find it a charming quality. "What
happened next?"

"People grabbed both of us; and Sally. Evie was
holding Sally. They brought me here, and a very scary woman came in
and asked me some questions, but I couldn't answer any of them."

"
Who was the woman?"

"I think of her as the Dragon. She didn't say
her name, but she was like no one I ever saw. Dark, but she didn't
have an accent. I mean, she looked foreign, but she wasn't. A long
face; older."

"Why did you say she was like no one you ever
saw? What was different?"

"There was something regal about her—something
commanding. Women aren't usually like that." She sighed. "I
wish I were, though. Don't you?"

Especially now.

"
But something else. There was something very
sad about her, lines around her mouth or something; as if she hadn't
gotten what she wanted out of life." She paused, apparently
trying to reconcile the two impressions. "I don't know, though.
I saw her again, and she didn't seem that way at all. I mean . . .
regal, larger than life. She seemed scared or something. Off balance.
I don't know what."

"
You saw her again?"

"Yes. You see, they locked me in here,
handcuffed to a chair in the daytime and to one of the beds at night.
So I can't move. Also, I can't hear anything. Do you think this place
could be soundproofed? I never hear a phone ringing or footsteps, or
anything. I never hear—you know—Sally. But Evie brought her in
once. I mean, just like—I don't how to say this—just like a
sister. She's never done anything like that in her life."

"
She brought her in? Why?"

"
That's what I mean. So I could see her, I
think. So Sally could see me. It was a kindness."

"
How does the woman fit into this? Anna
Garibaldi." The name slipped out unconsciously.

"Anna Garibaldi?" Reed looked supremely
puzzled.

"That may be who the Dragon is."

"That's somebody we do business with. My father
knows her well."

Skip was interested. "Tell me more."

"Well, she owns the fish company we order from,
but I think she has some connection with the casino as well—that
would explain why half the board was here the other night. I always
dealt with Mr. Daroca at the fish place, but Mrs. Garibaldi's been
calling the restaurant a lot lately—for Dad. They've been having
all these long, whispered conversations over the last few weeks.

"
In fact, I think it's something to do with our
getting the concession. He negotiated with her, I'm pretty sure of
that, I heard him. But I don't know what her job is."

"
Tell me about the second time you saw her."

"While Evie and I were talking, she came with
some of her henchmen. And took them both away." Her eyes
moistened. "I hope they don't beat Evie or anything. She
actually did something for Sally and me. I think she realized the
baby needed to see her mother—that's really something after what
she did. But then she was drunk."

"
When she kidnapped Sally?"

"
Yes. She told me. She told me everything about
it. She did it because a guy she met had told her a lot of lies and
given her false hope. So she thought she could get Sally back and
they could all be a family."

"That's why she kidnapped Sally?"

Reed shrugged. "Evie was never all that clear a
thinker."

"
I'm still confused. Why did she come here?"

"Once things went wrong, all she could think of
was to ask her boyfriend for help. But when she got here, he locked
her up. She doesn't know what's going on either. She says this is his
house, but he's a cop. That doesn't make any sense. How could a cop
have a house like this? I mean, no offense, but does that seem
likely? And why would a cop hold three people prisoner, including his
own girlfriend and a baby?" She stopped talking and remembered
Skip.

"
Four."

The back of Skip's neck prickled; her scalp crawled.
She felt cold all over. "A cop? This is a cop's house?" Had
she been recognized? Was that why she'd been captured?

"Well, he told Evie he was a lawyer, but I know
him from the restaurant and I know he's a cop. Married too." She
sighed. "Poor Evie; she always gets in the worst kind of
scrapes."

"
You don't know his name, do you?"

"Sure. Maurice Gresham."

Bingo.

He wasn't just a cop, he was a detective in Skip's
platoon. He was the one Cappello thought was dirty.

"I always did wonder how he could afford to eat
at the restaurant so often. Maybe he has family money."

Right. Marcello family money. The Marcellos were
the celebrated South Louisiana arm of the mob.

This is some kind of mob deal. It's some kind of
clubhouse; a meeting place. Maybe Gresham owns it or maybe Garibaldi
does—on paper. That's a fine point—the issue here is that a dirty
cop and a Dragon have got me taped to a bed. And I'm only one of
four.

She shook her head.

Reed said, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just thinking."

Just lying. Something's badly wrong. Whoever heard
of the mob taking prisoners, one of them a Homicide cop? Whatever's
going on here is plain crazy. It's not mob stuff, it's something
else.

Something worse.

But what?

Okay, think.

We're locked up because we know too much. It must
be the casino board members. They must be in deep with the mob, and
Reed saw them here. So maybe Anna stowed her away till she could
think what to do with her, and she had to stow Evie because she knew
about Reed.

Then there's me. I tracked them here, so I'm even
more dangerous than they are right now. But how did they know I'm a
cop?

Her mind answered the question almost immediately:
The gardener saw the gun in my purse. When I opened it to give him
the money. Damn the kid with the ice cream! I wasn't even a little
bit nervous about Auntie Anna.

So what's the deal with her? Reed said Anna had
lost some of her self-possession the second time she saw her.

But who wouldn't? Boy, are we a hot potato!

Why don't they just kill us?

She knew the answer to that. It wasn't the mob's way
to kill, except for revenge or over money. But they might if they had
to.

The real reason they'd done nothing probably was that
they were waiting for orders. Gresham probably didn't count at all,
was just an errand boy at the cop shop.

That left Anna.

Who was she?

One thing, she was a woman; that meant she wouldn't
have any real power in the mob. But who did?

The answer hit her like a thunderbolt:

Gus Lozano.

The missing Gus Lozano.

Suppose he was the one whose answer they awaited?
What was it likely to be?

At this point, what could it be?

Depends how important Gresham is to them. If they
let us go, Anna goes down, so does he, and very likely so do their
three tame casino boarders.

But maybe the casino guys don't go. Sure, Reed
recognized them, sure there'd be an investigation, but they could
probably ride it out—while remaining voting members of the board.
Very Louisiana.

Anna's probably expendable as hell.

Being a woman.

So no big deal there.

Gresham's the problem. Cappello's testimony alone
could do him in once his connection came out. If it does, he's a
goner.

So the question is, how much do they need him?
Because the answer to that probably determines whether we live or
die.