Fat Tuesday(30)

Over the years, Pinkie might have changed his mind about having Flarra with them. Remy didn't know. She hadn't asked. Because she was the one now opposed to Flarra's living under their roof. God forbid that her impressionable and impulsive younger sister come into contact with Pinkie's nefarious associates men like Wayne Bardo.

Granting Flarra's request was out of the question, but she couldn't tell the girl that without having a battle on her hands. Nor could she tell her the reasons why she opposed it, or discuss with her matters that she wouldn't understand.

She couldn't talk to Flarra about Galveston.

For the time being Remy remained noncommittal."A lot will depend on how you conduct yourself for the remainder of this semester. Will you behave yourself?"

The sixteen-year-old took that as a definite maybe. She leaped to her feet and executed a graceful pirouette."I promise on my maidenhead."

"Flarra!"

"Don't freak. That's all that's going on with my maidenhead. What about Mardi Gras?"

"What about it?" "Last year you said that maybe this year I could come to your party." "That's right I said maybe."

"Reee-my."

"I'll bring it up with Pinkie, Flarra. You're hardly in a position to be asking for favors."

"But you'll ask him," the girl insisted.

"I'll ask." Then Flarra took Remy's hands and pulled her into a hug.

"Thanks, sis.

I love you."

Remy hugged her tightly, whispering, "I love you, too."

When they pulled apart, Flarra's face had turned sad."What do you think she would think of me? Of us?"

Flarra could only be talking about their mother."Who knows? I don't think about her at all," Remy lied.

"Neither do I."

Flarra was lying too. Naturally they thought about the woman who had given them away without a smidgen of regret. Of course if she hadn't, Flarra probably would have died before her second birthday.

As to Remy's fate, she knew what she would have become.

"I must go," she said, moving toward the door."Pinkie will be getting home soon."

"Does he make love to you every night?"

"None of your business."

"We my friends and me think he does. Completely naked and with the lights on. Are we right?"

"Instead of speculating on my sex life, shouldn't you be studying geometry?"

"Remy, are you feeling okay?"

It was customary for Flarra to switch subjects with rocket speed.

This time she caught Remy with her guard down."Am I feeling okay?

Sure.

Why do you ask?"

"The last few times you've been to see me, you look sort of, I don't know, tired."

"I am, a bit. We hosted a party night before last. I was up late."

Scrubbing offBardo's touch, she added to herself.

"If you're sick, don't lie to me."

"I'm not sick."

Flarra's eyes brightened and her voice dropped to a hush."Could you be pregnant?"

"No, I'm not pregnant."

"Damn. I thought maybe ..." She pulled her lower lip through her teeth.

"You don't have cancer or something, do you, Remy?"

"No! Of course not. Flarra, I swear, there's nothing wrong with me."

'"But if something were wrong with you, something terrible, you'd tell me?"

'"I would tell you."

"Because I'm not a kid."

"I know that."

" Cause if I lost you, I ... you, Remy."

"A herA "Wouldn't lose "You won't," Remy declared with soft urgency."I swear I'll always be here for you. If something were wrong, I'd tell you, but there's not, so don't worry. Okay?"

Flarra released a gust of breath and flashed her engaging grin.

"Okay.

I'll see you Friday night." "No. I'm afraid we won't be taking you to dinner as planned."

"How come?" From the threshold of Sister Beatrice's office, Remy looked back at her crestfallen sister."Because you squandered that privilege on your adventure last night." Ipon of a bitch," Burke said softly.

He cursed with disbelief. Mrs. Pinkie Duvall was the woman he'd seen in the gazebo. Sitting behind the steering wheel of his car, he watched her enter the exclusive girls' school. Even from half a block away, he couldn't mistake her.

A little more than an hour ago, he had asked Ruby Bouchereaux, "What's a remy?"

"Not a what. A who. Pinkie's wife."

That Duvall was married had been a staggering revelation. Burke didn't recall ever hearing about a wife. Marital bliss just wasn't in his mental character profile of the flamboyant defense attorney.

As soon as he left the brothel, he drove to Duvall's neighborhood and cruised past the estate several times. He didn't really expect to see anything, but he got lucky. While he was making a turn-around down the street, a limousine came from the rear of the property and drove right past him. Since it was business hours, he assumed that Duvall was either in court or at his law office downtown. Was the lady of the house in the limo?