loved him. I wondered if he had played back the message. Jimmie Ray Rebenack was just the kind of guy who would have missed the message, or, if he'd heard it, wouldn't have listened. Guys like Jimmie Ray never quite learn that love doesn't visit often, and that even when it comes, it can always change its mind and walk away. You never know.
I went back inside and double-locked the door and wedged one of the flimsy motel chairs under the knob. The locks and the chair wouldn't keep out a guy like Rend, but there was always the Dan Wesson.
I lay on the bed and tried to sleep, but sleep, like love, is not always there when you want it.
CHAPTER 14
T he phone in my room rang at 9:14 the next morning as I stepped out of the shower. I had been up early, eating breakfast at the diner across from what used to be Jimmie Ray's office and waiting for the morning paper. A couple of police cars had been outside the fish market, but when the paper came there was nothing in it about Jimmie Ray's murder. Not enough lead time, I guess. When I answered the phone, Lucy Chenier said, "I spoke with my friend at BRPD."
"Could he identify Leon Williams?" I toweled off as I listened.
"Yes. Leon Williams was killed by a single gunshot to the head on May 12, thirty-six years ago, in Ville Platte."
"Sonofagun."
"There was an investigation by the Ville Platte police and the Evangeline Parish Sheriff's Department, but there were no suspects and no one was arrested for the crime. The case currently resides in the unsolved homicide file."
"My first move in Ville Platte was to scan through the microfiche at the local library. The May films were missing."
"Do you think it's connected?"
"Maybe. Maybe there's something in the local news coverage that someone didn't want us to see."
She didn't say anything for a time. "There's LSU. The School of Journalism keeps an extensive library of state papers. You might be able to find it there."
"That sounds good. I'll check it out."
She paused again. "Have you heard anything about Mr. Rebenack?"
I told her about the cops at his office and the local papers. I left out the part about wedging the chair against the door because I was scared.
She said, "Is there any way they can connect you to him?"
"I move with the silence of a stalking leopard. I leave less evidence than a passing shadow. I am invisible as is the breeze."
She sighed. "Yes, well, we have an able staff of criminal attorneys should you need us."
"Hey, the fragile male ego needs constant reinforcement, not cheap humor."
"My rates are anything but cheap, Mr. Cole, I assure you." Then she said, "I enjoyed myself last night, Elvis. I hope we can get together again."
"I could probably be there in thirty minutes. Faster, if I run down the highway naked."
She laughed. "That would probably be worth seeing, but I think you should concentrate on Leon Williams."
" 'Probably'?"
"Ah, the male ego is indeed a fragile beast."
Lucy hung up. I got the LSU School of Journalism's number from Information, called, and spoke with a woman who sounded to be in her fifties. I explained what I wanted and she told me that she'd have to connect me with the journalism library. A man came on the line. "May I help you?"
"I'm looking for the Ville Platte Gazette." I told him the year and the month. "Would you guys have that on microfiche?"
"Can you hold while I check?"
"Sure."
He came back on the line maybe thirty seconds later. Fast checker. "We have it. Would you like me to put it aside?"
"Please." I gave him my name and told him that I was coming from Ville Platte but that I would be there directly. He said fine. Maybe things were looking up. Maybe I was getting to the bottom of this and, once reaching the bottom, would bounce over the top. Of course, reaching the bottom can sometimes be painful, but we try not to think of that. Imagine an egg.
One hour and ten minutes later I drove through a wide gate that said Louisiana State University. A young guy in an information kiosk gave me a map of the university, pointed out the journalism building, then told me to park in a big lot by the football stadium. I left the car where he told me, then walked back between Tiger stadium and the basketball arena where Pistol