Fat Tuesday(61)

Whatever she'd been given to drink was fast-acting and potent. Her fingertips and toes were already tingling. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open.

When he lifted her up to remove her jacket, her head lolled against his shoulder. She seemed to have no connection to the arms he pulled from the sleeves of her jacket. She winced when he pried the bloodsoaked cloth away from her skin, but the pain was no longer as fierce as it had been just minutes ago.

She felt her breasts relax against her chest and knew that he had unfastened her bra strap. Ordinarily that would have panicked her.

She lacked the energy even to let it matter.

Then he eased her back down and her eyes opened in time to see him wiping sweat from his forehead. The back of his hand, she noticed, bore four bloody scratches where she'd raked him with her nails.

The tip of his little finger touched the corner of her mouth.

"Does that hurt?"

"Who are you?"

His eyes connected with hers. After a slight hesitation, he said, "My name is Burke Basile." He continued to look at her for several seconds, then his hands moved toward her shoulders to slip off the straps of her bra.

"Don't. Please." He said, "You heard him. I've got to get you out of your clothes and onto your stomach so he can work on your back."

That wasn't what she was protesting. She tried to shake her head but wasn't sure if the command reached her muscles, or if it did, if they could obey it."Don't do this, Mr. Basile," she whispered. Giving up the struggle to keep her eyes open, she exhaled deeply, then said on a thread of breath, "He will kill you." ^ you see, Sheriff," Pinkie said expansively, "Father Kevin used ( my wife's pistol to protect her. Funny when you think about it a priest with a handgun."

The sheriff didn't seem to find it all that amusing."What's your wife doing with a handgun?"

"Over the course of my career, I've made a lot of enemies, which should come as no surprise to you. Even though Mrs. Duvall has a bodyguard, I encourage her to carry a weapon in her purse. Good thing she had it today."

The sheriff massaged his chin."I don't know, Mr. Duvall. These witnesses claim she was fighting him."

Pinkie chuckled affably."Sounds like her. My wife is headstrong and doesn't like to be told what to do. Father Kevin was trying to remove her from the scene, but she wanted to stay and defend Father Gregory.

She feels a lot of compassion for him because of his ... let's be kind and call it a weakness.

"That's the way she is. Always looking out for the underdog and ready to take on a bully. Frankly, I'm grateful to Father Kevin for jumping in the way he did. It was quick thinking on his part to get her out of here. I have a lot to thank him for."

'"You're sure they're taking her on back home?"

"Certain." Pinkie stuck out his hand."I can't say that it's been a pleasure, but it's good to know that over here in Jefferson Parish, y'all know how to respond quickly to a crisis situation."

"Thank you, Mr. Duvall. We try."

"Good night." Pinkie headed for the car.

"Say, one more thing, Mr. Duvall: How come the priest bopped your man there in the head?"

"I'm sure Father Kevin was frustrated with him for letting things get out of hand." He glanced toward the car, then added tightly, "A matter I intend to address immediately." He waved once again as he climbed into the front seat.

"Where to?" Bardo asked.

Pinkie was tempted to strike out in the direction the van had taken, but after dark, without knowing where they were going, they could drive for hours on these back roads and accomplish nothing except to get hopelessly lost."My office."

Bardo took off in the direction of the city."What did you tell Barney five back there?"

"I made up some bullshit story."

"And he bought it?"

"I didn't give him a choice. If I'd have let him treat this like a kidnapping, he would have called in the FBI."

"Bad for our business."

"Very. Besides, those feds usually can't find their ass with both hands. I'm better off handling this myself."

Bardo glanced over his shoulder into the backseat."At least you weren't charged with murder. I stopped you just in time."

Errol was hunkered in a corner of the backseat, still looking shaken from his recent brush with death and a post-traumatic bout of vomiting.

Pinkie had been within a blink of pulling the trigger when Bardo stopped him. He'd wrestled the.38 from Pinkie's hand and reasoned with him until his temper was under control.

"Not that I don't want to kill you," he'd shouted to Errol, who was by then heaving into the dead weeds at the side of the building."The only reason I'm sparing your life is because I need your help to find them."

It was then that the sheriff had approached Pinkie and introduced himself. He shared what his investigating officers had learned.

"The clerk was so shaken he could hardly communicate with the nine-oneone operator, so my boys didn't know what the hell they were walking into.

Once they got to talking to these folks, they soon realized it was more than a routine disturbance call. Bad as I hate to tell you this, Mr. Duvall, looks like your wife's been kidnapped."