Страница 29 из 124
13
Friday. Payday. Everyone was in a hurry to get to the bank, get to the bars, get home to start the weekend. Friday was a big speeding-ticket day. Friday nights were good for brawls and DUIs.
A
Just one more reason to be glad she didn't have a penis. The few skirmishes she had jumped into had been enough to win her a chipped tooth, two cracked ribs, and the respect of her fellow deputies. Men were that way. Being able to take a punch somehow made you a better person.
She wondered if any of them remembered those past brawls. It seemed not. When she had reported to the briefing room this morning, she had taken a seat at one of the long tables, and every deputy at the table got up and moved. Not a word was spoken, but the message was clear: They no longer considered her one of them. Because of Fourcade, a man who had befriended none of them and yet was lionized by them all for the mere fact that he had external genitalia. Men.
She had wanted to hear about the follow-up on the Je
She thought about the rape in fragments: the mask, the violence, the absence of seminal fluid, the ligatures, the fact that he made her bathe afterward. The fact that he hadn't spoken a single word during the ordeal. Verbal intimidation and degradation were standard fare in most rapes. She wondered which would be more terrifying: an attacker who threatened death or the ominous uncertainty of silence.
Careful. The word kept coming back to her. The rapist had been careful to leave no trace. He seemed to be perfectly aware of what the cops would need to nail him. That pointed to someone with experience and maybe a record. Someone should have been checking perso
A
A red Chevy pickup was coming fast out of town. A
Nothing like a drunken redneck to make a day truly suck the big one.
"One Able Charlie," she radioed in. "I got a speeder on twelve, two miles south of Luck. Looks like he's drinking. Lou'siana tags Tango Whiskey Echo seven-three-three. Tango Whiskey Echo seven-three-three. Over."
She waited a beat for the acknowledgment that didn't come, then tried again. Still no response. The silence was more than a
"10-1, One Able Charlie. We didn't catch that. You're breaking up again. Say again. Over."
It was a simple thing to interrupt a radio transmission. All it took was one other deputy keying his mike when he heard her calling in and she was cut off. Cut off from communication, cut off from help.
Disgusted at the possibility, A
"Step out of the vehicle, please," she called as she approached the truck from the rear.
"I wadn' speedin'," the driver yelled, sticking his head out the open window. He had small mean eyes and a mouth that drew into a tight knot. The dirty red ball cap he wore was stitched with a yellow TriStar Chemical logo. "You cops ain't got nothin' better to do than stop me?"
"Not at the moment. I'll need to see your license and registration."
"This is bullshit, man."
He swung open the door of the truck, and an empty Miller Genuine Draft can tumbled out onto the verge and rolled under the cab. He pretended not to notice as he stepped down with the extreme caution of a man who knows he has lost his equilibrium to booze. He wasn't any taller than A
"I don't pay taxes in this parish so y'all can harass me," he grumbled. "Goddamn gov'ment's tryin' to run my life. This here's supposed to be a free fuckin' country."
"So it is as long as you're not drunk and driving sixty-five in a forty. I need your license."
"I ain't drunk." He pulled a big trucker's wallet on a chain out of his hip pocket and fumbled around to extract his license, which he held out in A
Vernell Poncelet. A
"I wadn' speedin'," he insisted. "Them radar guns is always wrong. You can clock a goddamn tree doing sixty."
Suddenly his squinty eyes widened in surprise. "Hey! You're a woman!"
"Yep. I've been aware of that for some time now."
Poncelet put his head on one side, studying her, until he started to tip over. He swung an arm to point at her and righted himself in the process.
"You're the one was on the news! I seen you! You turned in that cop what beat up that killer rapist!"
"Stay right here," A
"What kinda cop are you?" Poncelet shouted, staggering after her. "You want killer rapists ru
A
He kept coming, thrusting a finger at her as if he meant to run her through with it. "I ain't takin' no fuckin' ticket from you!"
"The hell you're not."
"You let a rapist run around loose. Maybe you wa
"That's it!" A
"Fuck you!" Poncelet made a wobbly 180-degree turn and started back for his truck. "Let a real cop stop me. I ain't takin' no shit from a broad."