he was here or ever had been was the olive green duffel on the closet floor. It was zipped shut and locked with a tempered steel Master Lock. Now you see him, now you don't. Off doing Pike things, no doubt.
At ten minutes before eight, Lucy let me into her home with a smile that was as warm as the sun glittering off dew-covered grass. I said, "Hi."
She said hi back. The master and mistress of restraint.
Jodi Taylor was standing behind her in the entry with a glass of red wine, clearly expectant. But where it was easy to look at Lucy, it was hard for me to look at Jodi. It would be harder still to tell her the things I would tell her. Jodi said, "Did you find out what's going on?"
"Yes. We need to talk about it."
Lucy led us to the kitchen. The lights in the backyard were on, and Ben and another boy were using the rope to climb into the pecan tree. A black-and-white dog ran in frantic circles around the base of the tree, its rear end high and happy.
Lucy said, "I have a key lime pie. Would you like coffee?"
"How about a beer?"
She took a bottle of Dixie from the Sub-Zero and opened it for me. I drank some. The key lime pie was sitting on the counter beside a little stack of glass dessert plates and forks and cloth napkins. Two pieces of the pie were missing, and I deducted that the two boys in the yard had probably already had their dessert. I am a powerhouse of deduction. A veritable master of the art.
Jodi said, "What's wrong? Why aren't you saying anything?"
I had more of the beer and watched Lucy cut equal slices of the pie and put the pie on the plates.
Jodi pulled at my arm. "Why do I think that something's wrong?"
"Because something is. Rossier and a guy named Donaldo Prima bring in illegal aliens, and sometimes it works out but sometimes it doesn't, and they don't much care." I went through.everything. There was a kind of comfort in the telling, as if with each telling the memory of it would become less clear, the sharp lines of the old man and the young girl less distinct.
When I told the part about Donaldo Prima killing the old man, Jodi said, "Waitaminute. This man murdered someone?"
"Yes."
"You actually saw a murder!"
I said yes again.
Jodi looked at her wineglass. Lucy caught the look, and refilled the glass. Jodi said, "I can't believe this. I'm an actress. I sing, for God's sake." She shook her head and looked at the two boys. Outside, Ben was hanging upside down on the rope, and the other boy was pushing him. Moths and June bugs swarmed around the patio lights. The black-and-white dog danced happily. Inside, the adults were discussing murder and human degradation. Just another day in middle-class America.
Lucy said, "Did you find a way to help the Boudreauxs?"
I shook my head. "No."
Jodi looked back at me. "What do you mean no?"
"I had hoped to find a way to force Rossier out of the Boudreaux's lives so that they could keep their secret, but there doesn't seem a way to do that. Rossier has no family and no known associates other than Donaldo Prima, and their association seems one of convenience. Like all criminal activities, it is a cash business, and Rossier has carefully laundered all the money through his crawfish farm. Milt Rossier answers to and depends on no one. He's safe."
Jodi said, "Well, there must be something."
"We can kill him or arrest him."
She flipped her hand. "Oh, that's silly."
"Prima used to work for another coyote named Frank Escobar. Prima wanted to go into business for himself, but needed a safe and reliable way to move people up from the coast. That's Rossier. Without Rossier, Prima's out of business. Escobar would very much like Prima to be out of business, also. If Escobar knew how to get to Rossier and Prima, he might take care of our problem."
Lucy was not moving. Her hands were on the counter. "You're talking about arranging a murder."
"I am talking about sharing information with Frank Escobar, then letting nature take its course."
Jodi crossed her arms, then uncrossed them. "Are you serious?"
Ben and the other boy came in through the French doors, slick with sweat. Ben was barefoot, and his knees were grass-stained and dirty. The other boy was wearing a Wolverine T-shirt. Ben said, "Moml'mLgonnagoovertoGary'sokay? Hi, Elvis."
"Hi, Ben." I