Robicheaux (Dave Robicheaux 21)

She looked at his profile. “How do you intuit that?”

“They give you that look. Butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths.”

“You’re a reminder from God, Spade,” she said.

“Didn’t catch that.”

“Whenever I hear people talk about white superiority, I have to pause and think back on some of the white people I’ve known. It’s a depressing moment.”

She turned onto the two-lane and didn’t speak again until we were back at the office. Just outside the back door, she told Labiche to coordinate with the Jefferson Davis Sheriff’s Department and arrange an interview with Kevin Penny. Labiche seemed to lose his balance, like a seasick man reaching for the gunwale.

* * *

THAT AFTERNOON CLETE got a call from Carolyn Ardoin. “Homer ran away from home. A policeman found him wandering around by I-10.”

“Where is he now?” Clete said.

“With me at the office. I’m not going to send him back.”

“Can you do that?” he asked.

“I don’t care about the rules on this one.”

“Go easy with Penny.”

“I’m furious.”

“What did he do?”

“It’s enough that he’s his hateful self. I’m furious at our system.”

“What if I come over there and get Homer?”

“What about when you’re at work?”

“I can pay somebody to watch him.”

“He’s in school.”

“I’ll enroll him here.”

“I have to think through the paperwork. Sometimes I hate my job.”

“Quit and come live with me.”

“You’re serious?”

“There’re probably worse fates,” he said.

“This is a lot at one time, Clete.”

She was right, but he saw his own face on Homer’s and knew what awaited the boy when a social worker took him back to Kevin Penny’s trailer.

“Hire an attorney, some guy who’s not afraid to make a stink and embarrass local officials,” Clete said. “I’ll take care of the fees.”

“That doesn’t work. Right now I have to talk to my supervisor. I’ll call you later.”

“You’ve got to think about yourself, Carolyn. Penny’s potential has no bottom. Then there’re those two rodents who work for Tony Nemo.”