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"I'll have Monahan recused from the case before the hearing," Wily murmured, moving with Nick toward the side door, where a city cop waited to escort him back to jail. "He's obviously too biased to hear the case. However, there's nothing I can do about Pritchett. That man wants your head on a pike, my boy. You made him look bad with that unfortunate evidentiary matter the other day. That's a felony in Smith Pritchett's book. Can you make bail?"
"Hell, Wily, I can barely pay you. I might get ten thousand if I hock everything I own," Nick said absently, his attention suddenly on the gallery.
Do
"Your Honor? May I approach the bench?" Monahan glared at him. "Who are you, sir?" "Do
Construction business must be doing better than I thought," Nick said, moving around Do
He had allowed the drama in the courtroom to unfold, not because he wanted Bichon's money, but because he wanted to know the motive behind the magnanimous gesture.
The press had gone wild. Headline frenzy. Monahan had ordered the courtroom cleared. Smith Pritchett had stormed from the room in a fit of temper at having his thunder stolen. After Do
Nick had jumped into Wily's money green Infiniti and they had driven clear to New Iberia to shake the tail of reporters behind them. By the time they doubled back to Bayou Breaux on country roads, the press had gone off to write their stories. Nick had Wily drop him off at the house, where he grabbed the keys to his truck and left, skipping the shower and change of clothes he needed badly. He needed other things more. Answers.
The office gave the impression that Bichon Bayou Development was a solid company-sturdy oak furnishings, masculine colors, a small fortune in wildlife prints on the walls. Nick's investigation had told a different tale. Do
Nick traced a fingertip over the graceful line of a hand-carved wooden mallard coming in for a landing on the credenza. "When I checked your company out, looked to me like you were in hock up to your ass, Do
Do
"You're an ungrateful bastard, Fourcade," he said, caught somewhere between amusement and irritation. "I just bailed your ass out of jail and you don't like the smell of my money? Fuck you."
"I believe I thanked you already. You paid for my release, Do
Do
"Why'd you do it?"
"You're kidding, right? After what Renard did to Pam? And ol' Hunter and you are sitting in jail and he's out walking around? That's crazy. The courts are a goddamn circus nowadays. It's time somebody did the right thing."
"Like kill Renard?"
"In my dreams. Perverted little prick. He's the criminal, not you. That was my statement. That deputy that hauled you in should have just minded her own damn business, let nature take its own course and finish this thing. Besides, I'm told I'm not out anything, unless you decide to skip town."
"Why cash?" Nick asked. "You pay a bail bondsman only ten percent for the bond."
And get a fraction of the publicity, he thought. Do
He had been right there soaking it up from the day Pam's body had been discovered. He had immediately offered a fifty-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to an arrest. He had cried like a baby at the funeral. Every newspaper in Louisiana had printed the close-up of Do
In the outer office, the telephone was ringing off the hook. Reporters looking for comments and interviews most likely. Every story that ran was free advertising for Bichon Bayou Development.
Do
Nick ignored the request. He needed to move, and having Do
"Will you be able to go back to work on the case?"
"When hell freezes over. I'm on suspension. My involvement would taint the case because of my obvious bias against the chief suspect. At least, that's what a judge would say. I'm out, officially."
"Then I'd better hope you have something else to keep you in Partout Parish, hadn't I? I sure as hell can't afford to lose a hundred grand."
"Some folks would say you can afford to lose it now more than you could have when your wife was alive," Nick said.
Do
"You know it's been a two-pronged investigation all along, Do
"You know where you can stick your two prongs, Fourcade."
Shrugging, Nick went on. "Me, I've had a lotta time on my hands in the last twenty-four hours. Time to let my mind wander, let it all turn over and over. It just seems… fortuitous… that Pam was killed before the divorce went through. Once the insurance company coughs up and you sell off Pam's half of the real estate company, you won't need that line of credit."
Do
Nick made no move to leave. He pulled the toothpick from his mouth and held it like a cigarette. "You had a fu
"I've made mistakes," Do
The very thought seemed to distress him. He turned away from the school portrait of his daughter that sat on a corner of his desk.
"Is she living with you yet?" Nick asked quietly.
There had been rumors of a custody battle brewing within the divorce war. Something that seemed more like petty mea