Light of the World (Dave Robicheaux 20)

“He got three in his face, sitting in his vehicle, in the what-do-you-call-it, the Big Easy.”

“Not true. It was across the river in Algiers.”

“There’re no flies on you,” he said.

“How would you know about Bix Golightly?”

“Your reputation gets around. Maybe you have fans you don’t know about.”

“Do you mind if I call you Asa?”

“Call me the Tin Man. How is Alafair?”

“She worries you might be mad at her.”

“I’d love to get together with both of you. I have some very good ideas. For many years I lived inside my head and thought about things I would like to do with others.”

“What kinds of ideas?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you. I have a feeling you get embarrassed about sexual matters. I never knew a tomboy who wasn’t a prude at heart.”

“I’m a filmmaker. I live in West Hollywood. Does that sound like a prude?”

“I like your legs. Alafair’s figure is lovely but not as interesting as yours.”

“Are you trying to tell me you want to get it on?”

“You are a bad girl.”

“Where can we meet?” she asked.

“Let me get back to you on that. I’ve been busy of late.”

“With the guy who got dragged down the highway by Flathead Lake?”

“The simpleminded ones aren’t much fun.”

“The waitress up at Lookout Pass? Was that you?”

“Lookout Pass? Let me think.” He made a bubbling sound, as though flipping his index finger up and down on his lips. “I’m not sure where that is. There’s one thing I wanted to ask you.”

“Go ahead,” she said.

“When you eased Golightly into the next world, you enjoyed it, didn’t you? It wasn’t just a job. You love the rush. Your loins buzz with it, like a nest of bees. No, that’s not well said. It’s a wet lick on an ice cream cone.”

She tried to keep her voice empty of emotion. “I think we can make a successful film together,” she said.

“I got a little close to home, didn’t I?”

“Unauthorized photos from your crime scenes were posted on the Internet. Did you take those?”

“Maybe. How did you like them?”

“I can teach you about film. I have friends at Creative Artists. They can help us in lots of ways.”

“You sound a little weakhearted,” he said. “Be advised that Alafair must be on board, our centerpiece, so to speak. Give me your cell number. I have a couple of commitments that need to be wrapped up, but you and I will have our date.”

She gave him her number and closed her phone. After he hung up, she opened the door of her truck and vomited into the road.