Light of the World (Dave Robicheaux 20)

“I wasn’t there for her when she was growing up. She was surrounded by bad guys. I’m talking about johns and degenerates, one in particular.”

“You’re talking about a molester?”

“A guy who burned her all over with cigarettes when she was a toddler

. He isn’t around anymore.” He felt her gaze rove over his face.

“What are you telling me?” she asked.

“I’m saying the guy who hurt my daughter isn’t going to hurt anybody else.”

“No, what are you trying to tell me about your daughter?”

“Not everybody grows up in a regular home. Gretchen’s mother was a hooker. Her old man was a drunk and on a pad for the Giacano crime family in New Orleans. The old man tried to set things right and took care of the guy who hurt her. But punching somebody’s ticket doesn’t give back the life a pervert stole from a little girl. That’s what I was trying to say.”

“Maybe you’re a better man than you think you are. When I said you shouldn’t drink, I wasn’t criticizing you. I thought maybe we would have a fine evening.”

“I’ve got King Midas’s touch in reverse. Whatever I touch turns to garbage. Excuse me, I got to go to the restroom.”

He went into the men’s room and relieved himself and washed his hands. The reflection he saw in the mirror could have been that of a profligate doppelgänger come to mock him. The skin around his eyes was green, his face dilated and oily with booze, the welted scar running through one eyebrow as red and swollen as an artery about to burst. There was a lipstick smear on his shirt pocket, where she had fallen against him when they were going out the door of the saloon. He washed his face in cold water, heaping it with both hands into his eyes and rubbing it on the back of his neck. He wiped his face with paper towels and combed his hair and returned to the table.

“We can cancel the order and maybe go somewhere else,” Felicity said.

“I think I’ve blown out my doors for tonight. I’ve got to square things with Gretchen. You’re a nice lady. I’ll help you in whatever way I can, but right now I’m done.”

She placed her hand on his knee. “Don’t let our evening end like this.”

“End like what? I’m tired. I’m running on the rims. I’m a fucking mess.”

“Don’t let situations and people control you, Clete. Our destiny isn’t in the stars, it’s in us. We can control the moment we have. That moment is now.” Her fingers lingered on his knee, as light as air, one finger idly brushing the fabric. “I really like you,” she said.

“Gretchen is a little girl in a woman’s body. I owe her. She’s my kid. She’ll always be my kid.”

Felicity lifted her hand and placed it on top of the table just as their food arrived. Clete stared out at the street, his jaw tightening.

“What is it?” Felicity said.

“My Caddy just went by. There it goes, down by the red light.”

“I don’t see it.”

“There’s a pickup behind it. Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Clete went through the bar and out the front door and looked at the parking lot. The Caddy was gone. He went back inside the bar. “Did you see a maroon Caddy convertible pull out of the lot?” he asked the bartender.

“Yeah. A guy at the bar did, too.”

“I don’t follow.”

“A guy went out the door without paying for his drinks and sandwich. I went outside after him. He got in his truck and took off after the convertible.”

“What kind of truck?”

“I don’t know.”

“You get the tag?”

“The guy said he was from Kansas. He made a crack at a girl who was in here. I didn’t get the tag number.”

“Which girl?”