“Forget it,” Clete said.
Huffinton walked toward his vehicle, his back to us, his blunt profile pointed into the freshening breeze.
“I hope his wife has congenital clap,” Clete said.
“During the firefight, I saw a steamboat down by the mouth of the river.”
“You mean a floating casino?”
“That’s not what it was. I’ve seen it before. On Bayou Teche.”
“I don’t know if I want to hear this.”
“I thought that was where I was going. I thought they were waiting for me.”
“Who?”
“The people on board.”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“You’re the best, Cletus.”
“No, we’re the best. One is no good without the other. The Bobbsey Twins from Homicide have one agenda only. We make the dirtbags want to crawl back in their mothers’ wombs. We’re gonna hunt down the cleaners or whatever they are and salt their hides and nail them to the barn door.”
“You’ve already said it for both of us. It’s only rock and roll.”
“That’s because I was ninety-proof. You don’t have permission to die.” He grabbed my shirt. “You hearing me on this?”
“I was just telling you what I saw. Who else am I going to tell?”
I cupped my hand on the back of his neck as we walked to his car. I could feel the hardness in his tendons and the heat and oil in his skin. I could feel his heartbeat and the fury and mire of his blood in his veins, and in his intelligent green eyes I could see the misty shine that my words would not make go away.
MONDAY MORNING I went into Helen Soileau’s office and told her everything that had happened in the field and river basin during the storm on the southern end of Jeff Davis Parish. She listened and did not speak, her gaze never leaving my face. When I finished, she continued to stare at me, her lips pressed together, her chest rising and falling.
Unconsciously I cleared my throat. “I’m going back over there in a few minutes,” I said.
“Really? That’s interesting.”
“I’m going to the courthouse and try to find what I can on the seven arpents of land owned by Bernadette Latiolais.”
“Can you tell me what Clete was doing with you yesterday?”
“He saved my life.”
“What you mean is he had to save your life. That’s because you went over there without backup or informing me or coordinating with the Jeff Davis Sheriff’s Department.” Before I could reply, she raised her hand for me to be silent. “You killed one man and wounded another?”
“I did.”
“You shot one guy’s hand off with the twelve-gauge?”
“His fingers.”
“But you’re sure you wounded him, and you’re sure the guy you hit with your forty-five is dead?”
“I don’t know how else I can say it, Helen.”
“I don’t get Vidor Perkins’s relationship to these guys.”