Blow Fly (Kay Scarpetta #12)(29)

After he vanished into the black hole of the witness protection program, ATF immediately transferred Lucy to the Miami Field Office where she volunteered for dangerous undercover work and talked her way into it, despite reservations on the part of the Special Agent in Charge. Lucy had an attitude. She was volatile. No one close to her except Pete Marino understood why. Scarpetta didn't know or remotely suspect the truth. She assumed Lucy was going through a terrible phase because she couldn't cope with Benton being dead, when the truth was that Lucy couldn't cope with Benton being alive. Within a year of her new post in Miami, she shot and killed two drug dealers in a takedown that went bad.

Despite video surveillance tapes that clearly showed she had saved herself and the life of her undercover partner, there was talk. There was ugly gossip and disinformation, and one administrative investigation after another. Lucy quit ATF. She quit the feds. She cashed in her dot-com stocks before the economy destabilized and crashed after 9-11. She invested a portion of her wealth, along with her law enforcement experience and talent, into creating a private investigative agency she calls The Last Precinct. It's where you go when there's no place left. It isn't advertised or listed in any directory.

21

BENTON GETS UP from the chair and slips his hands into his pockets.

"People from the past," he says. "We live many lives, Pete, and the past is a death. Something over. Something that can't come back. We move on and reinvent ourselves."

"What a load of crap. You've been spending too much time alone," Marino says in disgust as fear chills his heart. "You're making me sick. I'm glad as hell Scarpetta ain't here to see this. Or maybe she ought to, so she'd finally get over you like you've obviously gotten over her. Goddamn it, can't you turn up the air conditioner in this joint?"

Marino strides over to the window unit and turns it on high.

"You know what she's doing these days, or don't you give a flying f*ck? Nothing. She's a goddamn consultant. Got fired as the Chief. Can you believe it? The f*cking governor of Virginia got rid of her because of political shit.

"And getting fired in the middle of a scandal don't help you get much business," he rants on. "When it comes to her, no one's hiring, unless it's some pissant case in some place that can't afford anyone, so she does it for nothing. Like some stupid drug overdose in Baton Rouge. A stupid-ass drug OD..."

"Louisiana?" Benton wanders toward a window and looks out.

"Yeah, the coroner from there called me this morning before I left Richmond. Some guy named Lanier. An old drug OD. I knew nothing about it, so then he wanted to know if the Doc's doing private work and basically wanted me to vouch for her character. I was pretty f*cking pissed. But that's what it's come down to. She needs f*cking references."

"Louisiana?" Benton says again, as if there must be some mistake.

"You know any other state with a city named Baton Rouge?" Marino snidely asks above the noise of the air conditioner.

"Not a good place for her," Benton says oddly.

"Yeah, well, New York, D.C., L.A. ain't calling. It's just a damn good thing the Doc's got her own money, otherwise she'd be..."

"There are serial murders going on down there..." Benton starts to say.

"Well, the task force working them ain't the one calling her. This hasn't got nothing to do with those ladies disappearing. This is chicken shit. A cold case. And I'm just guessing the coroner will call her. And knowing her, she'll help him out."

"An area where ten women have vanished, and the coroner calls about a cold case? Why now?"

"I don't know. A tip."

"What tip?"

"I don't know!"

"I want to know why that drug OD's so important all of a sudden," Benton persists.

"Are your antennas in a knot?" Marino exclaims. "You're missing the f*cking point. The Doc's life has turned to shit. She's gone from being Babe Ruth to playing Little League."

"Louisiana's not a good place for her." Benton says it again. "Why did the coroner call you? Just for a reference?"

Marino shakes his head, as if trying to wake up. He rubs his face. Benton's losing his grip.

"The coroner called wanting my help with the case," he says.

"Your help?"

"Now what the hell is that supposed to mean? You don't think I could help somebody with a case? I could help any goddamn..."

"Of course you could. So why aren't you helping the Baton Rouge coroner?"

"Because I don't know anything about that case! Jesus, you're making me crazy!"

"The Last Precinct could help down there."

"Would you f*cking give it a rest? The coroner didn't seem all that hot and bothered by it, just indicated he might want the Doc's medical opinion..."

"Their legal system is based on the Napoleonic Code."

Marino has no idea what he's talking about. "What's Napoleon got to do with anything!"

"The French legal system," Benton says. "The only state in America that has a legal system based on the French legal system instead of the English. Baton Rouge has more unsolved homicides of women per capita than any other city in America."