Out of the Easy(42)

“Willie doesn’t want me to.”

“So what, you gonna stay here just so you can clean her house and run around with all the naked crazies in the Quarter? You got a bigger story than that.”

I held up the thermos. “And hot coffee for the journey.”

Cokie started to shuffle and sing. “I’d rather drink muddy water than let you jive on me. Josie girl, you goin’ to Boston, so don’t you jive on me.”

I hugged the thermos.

“All right, I better get to the Pontchartrain, or Willie will have my hide,” said Cokie. “I got somethin’ else.” He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a thin piece of newspaper, torn at the edges. “Cornbread got back from Tennessee. He gave me this. The rich man’s family ain’t satisfied. Apparently his watch and money were stolen, so they suspicious. They wanna do their own autopsy.” He laid the piece of newsprint on the counter.


TENNESSEAN’S DEATH SUSPICIOUS


The body of Forrest L. Hearne, Jr., 42, will be exhumed in Memphis on Monday for autopsy. Hearne, a wealthy architect and builder, died during the early morning hours of January 1 at the Sans Souci nightclub in New Orleans. Hearne and his two friends had traveled to New Orleans to attend the Sugar Bowl football game January 2. Hearne reportedly left Memphis with $3,000, but no money was found on his person when he died. The deceased was also missing his expensive wristwatch and Sugar Bowl tickets. Hearne’s death was attributed at the time to a heart attack. Dr. Riley Moore, Orleans Parish coroner, said Hearne collapsed in the club and was dead when the ambulance arrived.

“Josie.” Cokie moved toward the counter. “You okay? You’re grayer than a bottle of rain, girl.”





TWENTY-EIGHT


“You really have to go tonight?” said Patrick. “I thought maybe you could come over for your birthday, say hello to Charlie.”

“Yes, I have to go. He’s going to give me the letter.”

“Why don’t I go with you? Maybe it’ll look more serious if I’m there.”

I liked the idea of Patrick coming. Then I thought about what Mr. Lockwell had said. High heels. He wouldn’t appreciate Patrick being there. And I knew better than to tell Patrick about his comment.

“Let’s meet up later at the Paddock. Smiley Lewis is playing tonight. Could you come after Charlie goes to sleep?” I asked.

“The Paddock’s so grimy. Besides, I can’t leave Charlie for too long. He’s been acting up. Miss Paulsen called asking to talk to him. She said she came by. You didn’t tell her about him, did you?”

“Of course not. I’d never do that.”

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone, Jo.”

“I promise! I love Charlie just as much as you do,” I told him.

“Some of the neighbors are suspicious. I told them that he’s completely absorbed in writing a play and sometimes reads it aloud, acting the parts.”

“That was smart. He did spend thirty-five days inside writing once,” I said.

“Yeah, but I don’t know how long they’ll buy it. I like Miss Paulsen, but she’s pretty nosy. And her brother’s a doctor. All we need is for her to get a look at Charlie and call for a straitjacket.”

“Don’t say that. Have you written to your mom yet?” I asked.

“I had told her about the robbery and the beating, but she doesn’t know how bad it’s gotten.” Patrick shuffled some papers on the counter. “Say, Jo, I keep forgetting to ask, do you have that inventory report? The accountants need it for taxes.”

“Your accountant is part of the Proteus Krewe for Mardi Gras. He’s not thinking about tax season right now.”

“I know, but I want to have it in advance. I’m tired of always doing things last minute. And I hate to ask, but do you think you could do me a favor and stay with Charlie for a couple hours tomorrow night? I’ve got some books coming in around dinnertime, and I want to turn them around and deliver. We could use the money.”

“Sure, I’ll stay with Charlie.”

“Thanks, Jo. Jeez, now I feel bad. Your redneck Romeo, Jesse, gets you flowers for your birthday, and I can’t even go with you to the Paddock.”

“Flowers?”

“You didn’t see?” Patrick rolled his eyes. “Step outside and look at your window.”

I walked into the street and looked up toward my apartment. Balancing in the wrought-iron window box was a bouquet of pink lilies. How had Jesse gotten them up there?

I had never received flowers and didn’t own a vase, so I propped them in a glass on my desk. The fragrance quickly filled the small space. Staring at the lilies, I felt a mix of happiness and apprehension. Unless it was Cokie, gifts from men weren’t free.

I put on the same dress I had worn to Lockwell’s office before. It was the only nice dress I owned. I tied a red scarf around my neck onto my shoulder, trying to make the outfit look different, and combed my hair over to the side to tame the puff from the humidity. For some reason, my hair always looked best right before bed, and what good was that?

I looked down at my feet. Pretty shoes for a letter. Sex for a string of pearls.

Was there a difference?





TWENTY-NINE