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Prejean pulled into a visitor's slot near the back entrance to the law enforcement center. A
The sheriff had put on his funeral suit for the day's media attentions, a charcoal pinstripe that didn't hang quite right on his big-boned frame. He'd already jerked his tie loose at the throat. He looked older than A
"How you doing, A
Alarm struck a low, vibrating note in her gut. "That depends on what this is, sir."
"Have a seat," he offered, pointing to one of his visitor's chairs. "The doctor released you?"
"Yes, sir."
"He signed a release? You'll forgive my skepticism, but you've developed a bad habit of defying orders recently."
"They didn't give me a copy of it," A
His point about her insubordination made, Noblier didn't press for the documentation. He settled into his own chair and looked at her hard for a moment. A
"We executed a search warrant on the Renard home over the weekend," he began at last, opening the pencil drawer of his desk. "Among possessions found in Marcus Renard's workroom were items known to belong to Pam Bichon. We also found this."
He tossed the plastic dancing alligator across the desk. A
"Deputy Prejean recognized it. Thought you might want it back."
"Thank you, sir." She slipped it into her jacket pocket, knowing she would throw it away the minute she left the room.
"Found in Doll Renard's bedroom was a nine-inch boning knife. Found it between her mattress and box spring," he went on. "Never found it before because the warrants never extended to Mrs. Renard's bedroom. The knife's been sent to the lab."
"Was it clean?"
Noblier weighed his answer for a moment, then decided she'd earned it. "No. It wasn't."
The idea turned A
"I expect so."
"Good."
The sheriff went silent again, watching her, frowning. A bad sign, she thought.
"I been giving a lot of thought to this over the last couple of days, A
"No, sir," A
"You always have been one to stick your nose in where it don't belong."
"Yes, sir."
"Nothing but trouble. Creates dissension. Undermines command."
A
"On the other hand, it shows initiative, guts, ambition," he said, taking the pendulum back to the high side. "Tell me this, A
"Because it was the right thing to do."
"And why'd you go after Renard on your own?"
It was A
"Because I felt I owed it to Pam. I was the first person to see what her killer had done to her. There was something very… personal about that. I felt like I owed her. I found her body, I wanted to find her justice too."
Gus nodded his head, pursing his lips. "You haven't talked to the press."
"No, sir."
"At the press conference this afternoon I'll be telling them how you were working undercover to help crack this case. Your next paycheck will reflect your overtime."
A
Noblier read her face like a clock and narrowed his small eyes. "I won't have my authority undermined, A
"Yes, sir."
"You got a hell of a lot to learn about how the world works, Broussard." He had already begun his dismissal of her, his attention going to the notes he had scribbled for the press conference. "Report back to me when you come in off sick leave. We'll do the paperwork on your reassignment… Detective."
Detective Broussard. A
Fourcade was waiting for her outside the door. He stood leaning against the building, his ankles crossed, his hands in the pockets of his jacket, concern in his eyes.
"Noblier made me a detective," she a
"I know. I recommended you."
"Oh."
"It's where you belong, 'Toinette," he said. "You do good work. You dig hard. You believe in the job. You seek the truth, fight for justice-that's what it oughta be about."
A
He didn't smile. Big surprise. He straightened away from the wall and touched her cheek with a gentle hand. "How you doing, 'Toinette? You okay?"
The weight of it all pressed a sigh from her. "Not exactly."
She wanted to say she wasn't the same person she had been ten days ago, but she had the distinct feeling Nick would disagree with her. He would tell her she simply hadn't looked that deep inside before. She wondered what he saw when he looked that deeply within himself.
"Walk with me," she said. "Down to the bayou?"
Frowning, he looked across the parking lot to the strip of green boulevard fifty yards away. "You sure?"
"I've been in bed for two days. I need to move. Slowly, but I need to move."
She started without him. He fell in step beside her. Neither of them spoke as they crossed the distance. When they reached the bank, a small group of mallards started, then settled back onto the chocolate brown water, bobbing at the edge of the reeds like corks. Across the bayou, an old man was walking a dachshund.
A
"He was i
He could have argued. Marcus Renard's obsession with Pam had acted as the catalyst for his mother's violence. But that wasn't the point here, and he knew it. He had followed the trail back to Marcus, stopped there, and meted out his own punishment.
"Would it have made a difference if he'd been guilty?"
A
"C'est vrai," he murmured. "True enough. But he wasn't guilty. I screwed up. I lost perspective. I lost control. Wrong is wrong, and a man is dead because of it. Because of me. I'll have to carry that the rest of my life."