Purple Cane Road

I thought about it, then said, "Thanks for your time."

I walked down to Helen Soileau's office and opened her door without knocking. She looked up from her paperwork at my face. She was chewing gum and her eyes were bright and focused with a caffeinated intensity on mine. Then one finger pointed at an empty chair by the side of her desk.

A few minutes later she said, "Go through that again. How'd you know Remeta was working for Co

"The last time Alafair saw him he was sunburned. He said he'd been out on Lake Fausse Pointe. That's where Co

"How?"

"He's a basket case. He's always looking for the womb."

"You sure of all this, Dave?"

"No. But Joh

"So you set Co

"That's true."

"Maybe we should just let things play out," she said. Her eyes drifted back on mine.

I looked out the window. The sky was the color of brass and smoke, and the wind was gusting in the streets.

"A storm is coming in. I have to get out on the lake," I said.

Helen remained seated in her chair.

"You didn't do Gable. You want to nail Co

"The other side always deals the play. You coming or not?"

"Let me be honest with you, bwana. I had a bad night last night. I couldn't get Letty Labiche out of my mind. I guess it's because I was molested myself. So lose the attitude."

Wally, the dispatcher, stopped us on the way out of the office. He had a pink memo slip in his hand.

"You wasn't in your office. I was fixing to put this in your pigeonhole," he said to me.

"What is it?"

"A cop in St. Martinville said Clete Purcel wants to talk to you. It's suppose to be important," Wally said.

"I'll take care of it later," I said.

Wally shrugged and let the memo slip float from his fingers into my box.

Helen and I towed a department outboard on the back of my truck to Loreauville, a few miles up the Teche, then drove through the sugarcane fields to the landing at Lake Fausse Pointe. The wind was blowing hard now, and I could see waves capping out on the lake and red leaves rising in the air against a golden sun.

Helen laced on a life preserver and sat down in the bow of the boat, and I handed her a department-issue cut-down twelve-gauge pump loaded with double-ought buckshot. She kept studying my face, as though she were taking the measure of a man she didn't know.

"You've got to tell me, Dave," she said.

"What?" I smiled good-naturedly.

"Don't shine me on."

"If Remeta's there, we call in backup and take him down."

"That's it?"

"She's the attorney general of Louisiana. What do you think I'm going to do, kill her in cold blood?"

"I know you, Dave. You figure, out ways to make things happen."

"Really?" I said.

"Let's get something straight. I don't like that snooty cunt. I said she was dirty from the get-go. But don't jerk me around."

I started to say something, then let it go and started the engine. We headed down the canal bordered by cypress and willow and gum trees, then entered the vast lily-dotted expanse of the lake itself.

It was a strange evening. In the east and south the sky was like a black ink wash, but the clouds overhead were suffused with a sulfurous yellow light. In the distance I could see the grassy slope of the levee and the live oaks that shadowed Co

I cut the engine and we drifted on our wake into the shallows, then I speared the bottom with the boat paddle and the hull snugged onto the bank.

The lights were on inside the house and I could hear music playing on a radio. A shadow crossed a screen window. Helen stepped out into the shallows and waded out to the moored boat and placed her hand on the engine's housing.

"It's still warm," she said, walking toward me, the twelve-gauge in both hands. She studied the house, the skin twitching slightly below her left eye.

"You want to call for backup?" I asked.

"It doesn't feel right," she said.

"You call it, Helen."

She thought about it. "Fuck it," she said, and pumped a round into the chamber, then inserted a replacement round into the magazine with her thumb.

But she was wired. She had killed three perpetrators on the job, all three of them in situations in which she had unexpectedly walked into hostile fire.

We walked up the slope in the shadows of the live oaks. The air was cool and ta

" Iberia Sheriff's Department, Ms. Deshotel. Please step out on the gallery," I said.

There was no response. I could hear shower water ru

"You better come in here, Dave. Watch where you step," she said.

Joh

The doors were open and I could see a redwood table on the deck, and on top of it a green bottle of wine, a platter of sandwiches, a package of filter-tipped cigarettes, Co

I heard a faucet squeak in the bathroom, then the sound of the shower water died inside the stall. Helen pushed open the bathroom door and I saw her eyes go up and down the form of someone inside.

"Put a robe on and get out here, ma'am," she said.

"Don't worry. I heard you long before you started banging around inside. Call in the report for me, please. My phone's out of order," Co

Helen picked up a pink robe off the toilet tank and flung it at Co

"Get your ass out here, ma'am," she said.

A moment later Co

"I don't know if I can prove this, Dave, but I think you sent this man after me," she said.

"You talked Remeta into the sack, then wasted him," I said.

"He tried to rape me, you idiot. I got my gun out of my bag and shot him through the door. Otherwise I'd be dead." Then she said "God!" between her teeth, and started to walk past us, as though we were only incidental elements in her day. Her slippers tracked Remeta's blood across the floor.