The Tin Roof Blowdown (Dave Robicheaux 16)

“You think he can be a lead?”

“He’s Bledsoe’s kind of guy. Bledsoe has left no trail, but how many of his friends can have the same kind of luck? Doing anything tonight?”

“Not a thing,” I replied.

“Let’s use two vehicles. I’ll stay with them for now. Leave your cell on,” he said.

I was about to hang up when he added, “You won’t believe the jugs on the broad who’s sitting in his convertible. I’m getting a boner just looking through the blinds.”

“Will you act your age and stop talking like that?”

“You’re right. There’s nothing funny about this bunch. Somebody is going to pay for what they did to Courtney. It’s been a while since the Bobbsey Twins from Homicide were under a black flag.”

I wished I hadn’t said anything.

An hour and a half later, while Molly and I were washing the dishes, Clete called again. “I’m about a quarter of a mile behind Bledsoe and his friend and the broad with Elsie-the-Cow bongos. I think they’re headed for the casino. Unless I call you back, we ROA there,” he said.

Roger that, I thought, more casually than I should have.

“Where are you going?” Molly asked.

“Clete has a lead on Bledsoe.”

“I want to go with you.”

“It’s just surveillance. It’s pretty boring stuff.”

“That doesn’t matter. He broke in our home. He urinated in Alafair’s bedroom. My stomach turns when I think about it. She told me he tried to get on as a volunteer at the shelter.”

“He’s going off the board, Molly. It’s a matter of time.”

She stepped closer to me. “You think I have to be protected from reality? I had maryknoll friends who were raped and murdered in El Salvador. Our government didn’t do a goddamn thing about it. Dave, I’m not going to sit around while this man brings his evil into our lives.”

“I understand how you feel.”

“Do you?”

I looked at the earnestness in her face and wanted to hold her. I put my arms around her back, cupping one hand on her neck. She was wearing a sundress and her skin felt cool and warm at the same time under the wood-bladed ceiling fan. I rubbed my cheek against her hair and squeezed her tighter. “I promise I won’t let him hurt us again,” I said.

She lowered her head and I felt her hands slide off my back. “Why do you think it’s all up to you? Why is it only about you?”

“It isn’t,” I said. “You have to trust me when I say that. For once, just trust me.”

I went outside and started the truck, my face hot, my ears ringing with the harshness of our exchange. The yard had fallen into shadow and cicadas were droning in the trees, like a bad headache that won’t go away. Just as I was backing into the street, regretting my words, trying to accept Molly’s anger and hurt feelings, she came out on the gallery and waved good-bye.

That’s what happens when you marry nuns.

space

THE CASINO WAS located on reservation land, down Bayou Teche, in what used to be a rural slum. Now the reservation is prosperous and the people there live in neat homes not far from the confluence of the Teche and another waterway which together form into a bay. The house lots have no fences and contain persimmon and pecan trees, live oaks and slash pines. It’s a lovely piece of topography that hides certain economic realities that few care to dwell on.

The patrons of the casino are the working poor, the uneducated, the compulsive, and the addicted. The booze is free as long as the patron continues to gamble. The interior glitters and charms; the restaurant is first-rate. The bands that play there do Cajun and zydeco and shitkicker, too. Inside the hermetically sealed environment, one that has no clocks or windows, all the problems of the outside world disappear.

After Katrina and Rita, the profits at Louisiana’s casinos soared to all-time highs. If you have already lost most of the ranch, what does it matter if you lose the basement?

Clete was standing by his car in the parking lot, smoking a Lucky Strike, his features taut with anticipation. A thermos rested on his car hood. I parked next to him, took the cigarette from his mouth, and flipped it sparking on the asphalt. “They’re inside?” I said.

“Yeah, they put in their names for a Texas Hold ’Em table. They’re at the buffet table now.” He unscrewed the top of the thermos and drank from it but offered me none.