Fat Tuesday(50)

"What's age got to do with it?"

"Right now, everything. I'm tired and need some sleep."

"It's the middle of the day."

"I was up late last night."

"All the more reason for you to relax and enjoy. I'll do the work."

Her hand wandered back to his belt buckle.

Again he stopped her."Not this time."

She expelled a green-apple-scented breath of disappointment.

"Okay," she said grudgingly."But could I just lie here with you for a while and rest?"

His glance moved from the rosy pout of her lips to the breasts spilling from the lace brassiere cups."I don't think I'd get much rest."

She grinned impishly."So I do turn you on."

"Scram, Dixie. Let me take a nap in peace."

He gave her an affectionate push, and she scooted off the bed."Oh well, I gave it my best shot." At the door, she stood with one hand on her hip, the other on the doorknob."If you're screwing around with Pinkie Duvall, you're asking for trouble."

"I know."

"Good guys like you are few and far between, Basile. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"You too, Dixie."

Just as she opened the door, the pay phone in the hallway rang.

Basile came off the bed like a rocket."Answer it," he told Dixie pushing her across the hallway ahead of him."Same as before."

The prostitute sounded like a trained secretary when she picked up the telephone on the third ring."Good afternoon. Jenny's House." She listened, then said, "Hold on, please."

Covering the mouthpiece, she whispered."She wants to speak to Father Gregory."

"She? The same woman as before?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Tell her that Father Gregory is out. Ask if she wishes to speak to Father Kevin."

"And that would be ... ?"

"Me."

Dixie eyed him suspiciously, but she relayed the message. After a moment, she handed the receiver to Burke."You're on, Fadre."

"Hello. This is Father Kevin."

"Hello, Father. It's Remy Duvall." His eyes closed momentarily. So far, it was working."Oh, yes.

Hello.

How are you, Mrs. Duvall?"

"Fine, thanks. Is the invitation to tour Jenny's House still open?"

"Certainly. When are you available?"

"The day after tomorrow? After lunch?"

Day after tomorrow. After lunch. Barely forty-eight hours. Could he make all the arrangements by then? "That would be fine," he heard himself say."Three o'clock?"

"Perfect. What's the address?"

"Uh, actually, Mrs. Duvall, it's rather hard to find. Instead of giving you directions, it would be much simpler if Father Gregory and I picked you up and took you there."

"Oh. I don't know ..." Sensing her hesitation, he said, "Your contribution was a direct answer to our prayers. We used your check to purchase a muchneeded van.

We'd like to show it off." Dixie was giving her chewing gum a vigorous workout and watching him with amused wonder.

"I'm so pleased you were able to put our donation to good use," Remy Duvall said.

"So, shall we pick you up?"

"Well, I suppose that would be all right." Then, more definitely, "Yes, pick us up here."

" Us'?"

"My, uh, Errol. He'll be coming along."

"Fine."

"Then I'll see you the day after tomorrow at three."

He agreed to the day and time and hung up but kept his hands around the receiver. He was standing still, staring vacantly into near space, but his mind was racing. After a moment, he realized that Dixie was still there, leaning against the wall with her arms folded, observing him shrewdly."What's with you, Basile?"

"What do you mean?"

"You look like a boy who just got a date with the prom queen, excited and scared at the same time."

"Hardly a date, Dix," he said absently. Then, shaking himself out of his daze, he thanked her again for her help."I couldn't have done it without you."

"What'd you do?"

"Never mind." Impulsively, he began patting down his pockets in search of something to write on."Listen, I'm going to give you an address, and I want you to keep it. If you ever need a safe place, go there."

He found an old convenience-store receipt in his pants pocket and scribbled down the address. Dixie barely glanced at it before tucking it into one of the pockets of her jacket."Safe place? Nothing's going to happen to me."

"Don't be stupid. Girls like you have a short life span." He tapped the pocket where she'd placed the slip of paper."Don't forget."

Burke leaned his head against the headrest of his new car. Well, hardly new, just different from the Toyota. Although it was difficult, he resisted closing his eyes. If he did, exhaustion might claim him and he would fall asleep and miss something.

He hoped that after all the trouble he'd gone to placing it, the damn bug would work.

Duvall probably had the house swept daily for listening devices, and, while he wouldn't have known it was Burke Basile who'd placed the tiny wireless microphone beneath his nightstand, the two visiting priests would be among the suspects.