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Authors: Polly Iyer

Tags: #Mystery: Psychic Suspense - New Orleans

Polly Iyer - Diana Racine 03 - Backlash (35 page)

BOOK: Polly Iyer - Diana Racine 03 - Backlash
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Chapter Sixty-Eight
Home Again

 

L
ucier
had commandeered a table in the back of Kitty’s where Cash clicked away on the computer. If any information about Samuel Massicot, aka Miss Kitty, floated around in the ether, the young man would find it.

“There’s a Luther Massicot and an Emmanuel Massicot from around these parts,” Cash said. “Luther would have lived in the district where Craven worked when he transferred from Baton Rouge. He had a son Samuel. Samuel seems to have fallen off the grid. No other mention of him.”

“Is Luther still alive?”

Cash clicked and clicked some more. “Whoa. Listen up. Police answered a domestic call at the home of Luther Massicot. When the officers arrived, they found Mr. Massicot beating his wife and fifteen–year-old son. The wife died at the scene. When a responding officer tried to restrain Mr. Massicot, he drew a gun on him. The officer, John Craven, shot the assailant in self–defense.” Cash leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “You think Captain Craven killed him on purpose?”

“I don’t know, but this is where Craven and Miss Kitty met. Got an address?”

“Yup, and guess who owns the house now?”

“Kitty Coltrane.”

* * * * *

M
iss
Kitty pulled the Jaguar into a wide gravel driveway just short of entering an upscale, gated community with a large spotlighted sign that said Lakeview Commons. From what Diana could see in the glare of the headlights, the cottage in front of her was in need of a coat of paint but in decent shape otherwise.

“You know how much money I’ve been offered for this place? More than half a million.” Kitty laughed. “I got twice that for the rest of the property, and look what they built. Street after street of ugly McMansions on lots so small I bet the owners hear their neighbors piss in their bathrooms. Hell, I can’t tell one from the other.”

“Why would you keep this place? You obviously won’t live here. Is there even running water?”

“Running water and electricity. I keep the place to code so no one can claim it’s unsafe and condemn it. The snobby residents around here would love nothing more than to see that happen. I come here every so often to get away. Emile doesn’t know about it. He doesn’t know a lot of things about me other than I love him. He’ll know one day, because he’ll get everything. House, land, the works. No doubt he’ll sell this place off. Doesn’t mean anything to him. Everything here is exactly as it was that day seventeen years ago. I haven’t changed a thing. Blood spots still stain the floor. I smell the stink.”

“Why torture yourself like that? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t expect you too, nor do I care if you understand.” Kitty got out of the car. “Come on, climb over the console and get out. We won’t be here long.”

Diana didn’t see the advantage of getting out of the car. She doubted Kitty would mess up the interior of the Jag with blood. “Why should I? You’re going to kill me anyway.”

Kitty reached across the driver’s seat, grabbed Diana’s hair, and yanked her over the console and out of the car.

Diana screamed. “Stop, I’m getting out.”

“You have to do what I say.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I wasn’t going to kill you?”

Diana rubbed her head. A few strands of loose hair tangled around her fingers. “How could I believe that from someone who left a seven-year old kid to die in a furnace-hot trailer?”

“I’d never have left him there to die. Never. You have to believe me. I stayed in the car ’cause the kid might see I was black. Hodge promised he’d open a window to let in some air. He said he did. After Feldman killed Lucier, Hodge was supposed to go back, get the kid, and drop him near his house.”

Diana couldn’t fathom that Kitty, having been abused as a child, would hurt Alan Feldman. “You should have checked.”

“You’re right. I should have. I could have killed Hodge, but Jack planned to do it anyway.”

A sensor light went on. Kitty, gun in pocket and knife in hand, pushed Diana onto the weathered stoop and extracted a key from behind a loose slat of wood siding. She opened the door and flicked on the overhead light.

The smell hit Diana first, but it was must and mildew, not blood. Kitty was right about the plywood floors. Dark stains permeated the wood’s grain.

“Sit there, and don’t move.” She removed a few bungee cords from a basket on the floor.

“What are you going to do?”

“Tie you up for a few minutes. That’s all. I need to do something, and I don’t trust you not to run away. That would ruin my plans, and I’d be pissed.” Kitty proceeded to strap her arms and legs around the Windsor chair at the dining table.”

“That’s too tight.”

“You can take it for five minutes.” Then she disappeared into the back of the small house.

Diana wriggled in the chair, but Kitty had strapped her in good. No point in wasting energy. She might need her strength later. Looking around, she expected the place to be covered in dust, but it wasn’t. Other than the stained floor, the cottage was immaculate inside. She imagined what life had been like for Kitty as a girl trapped in a man’s body. Someone, probably Kitty’s mother or Kitty as her former self, attempted to make a nice home. Not fancy, but comfortable.

“There, I’m ready.”

Diana felt the cords removed from behind, then Miss Kitty came around to the front. Only she wasn’t Miss Kitty anymore. She was a man. A tall, handsome black man with a gleaming bald head, knife-creased slacks, and a short-sleeved printed shirt. Kitty had wrapped her famous chest into a slight mound and removed all her makeup.

“You look surprised, Diana.”

“I am. I didn’t expect this.”

“Let me introduce myself. Samuel Massicot at your service. Now we really must go. From what Craven said about your lieutenant, I don’t doubt for a moment that he’s discovered this place and is on the way as we speak. We’ll have to go back to the city in a round-about way, or we’ll run right into him.”

Kitty, or should Diana start thinking of her as Samuel? latched onto her arm and forced her out of the chair.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere even Lucier won’t figure out. Come, come. We’re in a rush.”

Chapter Sixty-Nine
The Pact

 

L
ucier
drove like a maniac. He’d dispatched Beecher to visit Craven in the hospital to see if the disgraced cop could or would predict what Miss Kitty might do. Cash and Halloran stayed at Kitty’s Kabaret, questioning the employees and Emile.

“You’re sure you’re still on this case, Rickett?” Lucier asked. “I don’t want to get in trouble with the feds for dragging you along.”

“This is my case as much as yours. We’ll fight later over who gets the spoils.”

“I’m sure the superintendent will have something to say about the spoils. I don’t care who gets Craven or Kitty. I only care if Diana comes out of this alive.”

Rickett braced himself as Lucier squealed around another corner. “I have to say, you’re cool under pressure. I’d be a wreck if my woman was in this kind of trouble.”

Lucier ran another red light. “I’ve been a wreck since I met her. A happy, adoring wreck.”

Rickett laughed. “I’ve read about the two cases she’s been involved in. For an untrained civilian, she did well. This case is more like her first experience. Miss Kitty wants her dead.”

“I’m not so sure. The reason Craven and Kitty wanted Diana dead is because they thought she could identify them. We know who they are now, and they know we know. Killing her serves no purpose.”

“Did shooting Walt or the pizza boy serve a purpose?” Rickett asked.

“No, but we have a different story with Miss Kitty. She’s not Jack Craven.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Me too
.

When they pulled into the driveway of the Massicot cottage, the interior lights were on and the door was unlocked. They went inside. The place was empty.

“Kitty tied her to the chair,” Rickett said, picking up the bungee cords on the floor.

Lucier nodded. “Looks that way.” He went into the back of the house. “Rickett, come here.” Lucier pointed to Miss Kitty’s glittery gown and wig strewn on the bed.

“What did she change into?” Rickett asked.

Lucier pointed to the photo of the little boy and a woman. “Samuel Massicot.”

“Why?”

“She, he, whoever, needs Diana for something, and he can’t be Miss Kitty. She stands out too much. So what is he doing?” Lucier’s cell beeped. “Tell me something good, Sam.”

“Craven wouldn’t answer a damn question,” Beecher said. “Sat there and looked at me with a smirk. Honest to God, Ernie, I’d never seen him this way. He’s morphed into someone else. All he said was he’ll never see a day in prison. I couldn’t get him to elaborate, but he sounded pretty sure of himself.”

“Has he had any visitors?”

“Not with the guard on duty now, I asked. I don’t know about the previous shifts.”

“Get Halloran to help track them down and find out.”

“Okay,” Beecher said.

“Anything?” Rickett said.

“No, and I don’t know what our next move is.” He looked around the house. “So, we’re assuming Miss Kitty is dressed as a man, and she has Diana in tow. Dammit, why?”

“To leave the area?”

“Don’t know, but it ain’t happening here. Let’s get back to town.”

“Right,” Rickett said.

* * * * *

I
nstead
of heading away from New Orleans, Miss Kitty, dressed as Samuel Massicot, drove right back there using a different route. What was his plan? Why did he need her? Was her celebrity needed to distract someone? That’s all she could think of.

“Where are we going?”

“To the hospital to see Captain Craven.”

“Why? You know he’s under guard.”

“Yes, I know. I tried to see him as Miss Kitty, but the cop on the door wouldn’t let me in.”

“They’re on to you, Samuel.” She decided to use his real name. That’s who he was now. “They’ll be waiting for you.”

“Yes, I know, but they’re waiting for Miss Kitty, not Samuel Massicot. Even if they’ve figured out that I’m Samuel, which Lucier will know if he got to the house, he’ll never suspect I’d have the balls to go to the hospital.”

“Don’t discount Ernie Lucier. He’s pretty damn smart.”

“That’s what Craven said. But we’re one step ahead.”

“To do what?”

“What I must.”

* * * * *

R
acing
back to the city, a million thoughts cycled through Lucier’s head. Where is Samuel Massicot taking Diana and why?

“I can’t figure that out either,” Rickett said.

“Reading my thoughts?”

“No, just two good cops trying to anticipate the act of a desperate man, I mean woman. Whatever.”

Lucier’s cell rang again.

“Craven had one visitor,” Beecher said. “But she was refused visitation.”

“Who was it?”

“Miss Kitty.”

“What the ―” Lucier thought of all the reasons Kitty would risk going to Craven. Then he remembered what Beecher told him Craven said. ‘All he said was he’ll never see a day in prison.’ “Alert hospital security, Sam. Kitty’s on the way to Craven. She’s dressed like a man, and he’s with Diana. Meet you there.”

“Why?” Rickett said. “He’s giving up his chance to get away.”

“What would happen to Kitty in prison, Rickett?”

“You know what would happen.”

“Exactly. Kitty’s going to the hospital to see Craven, and I bet any money they have a pact.”

Rickett was silent for a long minute. “Goddamn, Lucier. I bet you’re right.”

Lucier hit the accelerator and put on the flashers.

* * * * *

W
hy
would Samuel risk everything to see Craven when he could have attempted a getaway? Nothing made sense.

They sat in the car while Samuel watched the employees’ entrance.

“No one’s watching,” Diana said.

“Just because you don’t see anyone doesn’t mean they’re not there.” He waited. “But it does look clear. Get out.”

She did. He jabbed the knife into her ribs as they slipped through the door and down the hospital corridor. “You said you weren’t going to kill me.”

“I won’t if you behave. Do what I tell you, and you’ll come out of this fine and dandy.”

The point of the knife was sharp. Samuel would stab her before she warned anyone. She’d wait to make her move. Timing was everything in life. Or death.

Samuel avoided the elevator and shoved Diana toward the back stairs to the second floor. He peeked around the door to the hallway. “Don’t say a word, understand?”

She nodded.

He pushed her into the hallway. The uniformed cop outside the door of Craven’s room stood about six-three and weighed a good two-fifty. He turned, surprised to see someone come from behind.

“You can’t be here,” he said. “This is a restricted area.”

Samuel smiled. “Hey, brother. This is Diana Racine. She and I are good friends of the captain. We wanted to see him before they cart him off to prison.”

“Ms Racine. Nice to meet you, but sorry. I have strict instructions not to let anyone inside.” His phone chirped. As he was about to answer, Samuel stuck the knife in his belly and knocked the phone away. The guard looked perplexed as he clutched his middle, seeing blood ooze between his fingers. He slunk to the floor. Diana started to scream, but Samuel slammed his hand over her mouth and thrust her through the door of Craven’s room. Putting up a fight was useless. She was overpowered.

She fell against the end of the bed. Craven, cuffed to the railing, sat up. A smile curved his lips as he caught the gun Samuel tossed him.

“Well, well, look who’s here,” Craven said. “Samuel, you are indeed a sight for sore eyes.”

“As you are, my friend,” Samuel said.

“Why didn’t you run?” Craven asked.

“I’d never have gotten out of the country. Lucier’s right behind me, and I wanted to go out on my own terms.” Samuel pulled out a pair of cuffs and fastened Diana to the bed. “Sorry, honey. But see? You’re still alive.”

Samuel’s touch flashed a vision to Diana’s brain that she wished she didn’t see. Her heartbeat quickened. “No, Samuel. You can’t do this. Don’t.”

He dragged the blood-soaked guard inside the room. “Sorry, bro,” he said. “I can’t go to prison, Diana. No way.”

“Lucier will see you get special consideration. You won’t be in the main population. You’ll be safe.”

“There’s no such thing as safe in prison for someone like me.”

He reached Craven’s bedside and the two men bumped fists. “You promised.”

“Yes, I did,” Craven said.

“We had a great ride. Took out some mean bastards, didn’t we?”

“We did that,” Craven answered.

Samuel turned to Diana. “Make sure you tell Emile that I love him, always and forever. I don’t want to live without him.”

Diana pulled at her cuffs, clanging the bedframe. “This is madness. Craven, don’t do this.”

“Do it,” Samuel said. “Do it.”

“I promised him,” Craven said.

Diana screamed, “Nooo,” but Craven shot Samuel point blank in the forehead.

Lucier and Rickett, guns drawn, plowed through the door, shoving the fallen guard aside. Craven aimed his weapon at his temple.

“Don’t, Jack,” Lucier said.             

“What are you going to do, Ernie, kill me? Go ahead. Save me the trouble. It’d be a good kill for you. You’d be a hero.”

“Give me the gun.”

“Not a chance. How long do you think I’d last in prison? I’ll tell you, about as long as Samuel would have, only for different reasons. I put a lot of men away. Men who’d find revenge as sweet as I’ve found it all these years.”

Lucier moved closer on one side, Rickett, skirting Diana, on the other.

Diana’s heart was in her throat. She wanted to tell them to be careful, but she didn’t want to break their concentration.

“You’re a good cop, Ernie,” Craven said. “Too good. Now back off, both of you.”

“Don’t,” Lucier said again.

“It has to be this way.”

Diana wished she were anywhere but here. It didn’t take a psychic to know something terrible was going to happen.

Craven’s finger twitched on the trigger.

Lucier’s gun fired first.

Craven’s wrist exploded into a mass of bone and blood, spattering the pillow, the wall, and Craven.

A mournful wail pierced the room, along with a beeping noise outside.

Rickett moved in, his gun on Craven, and grabbed the damaged gun. Two uniformed police officers stormed the room.

Diana turned away as Lucier searched Samuel’s pocket until he found the key. He released her from the bedframe and pulled her up into his arms.

“It’s over.”

Trembling, she peeked around his shoulder through blurry vision to see Craven clutching his hand, blood everywhere. “Is it?”

Medical personnel tended to the guard, who was still alive. Within minutes, he was on a gurney being rushed down the hall to surgery. A doctor examined Samuel Massicot, aka Miss Kitty, and another doctor tended to Craven.

“Why didn’t you let me finish the job, Lucier?” Craven’s voice shook. “Do you think it’ll be easier for my kids to visit me in prison than in a cemetery?”

“You should have thought about that before you started on your misguided mission, Captain. You’ve left a path of death and destruction in your wake. You’ll have a long time to justify to yourself what you’ve done.” He turned to the doctor. “Do what you have to do, but I’ll have a guard on him at all times, including in the operating room if you perform surgery.” He turned to the two officers. “Did you hear that? A guard 24/7, in the room. Men who aren’t afraid to use force. I’m putting this man on suicide watch.”

“Yes, sir, Lieutenant.”

“Any objections, Rickett?” Lucier said.

“None. I’ll fill out my report. You and Diana can write your statement later. Until someone gets here, I’ll take the first watch. Get her home.”

“Will do.” Lucier patted the fed on the shoulder and took Diana’s arm.

The sun was coming up when they left the hospital. People were bustling about, going on with their lives. Diana thought of Samuel. Thought of Miss Kitty. A wave of sadness hit her hard. She had liked Miss Kitty, never felt anything dark from her touch. She understood Samuel and his need to die. She wished she didn’t.

“A new day,” Lucier said.

“No, not a new day. The end to a really terrible morning.”

BOOK: Polly Iyer - Diana Racine 03 - Backlash
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