Paige reached into her purse and pulled out her notebook. “And you saw Freddy leaving Glynis’s just before six? Right before you met me at Port of Call, right?”
“Rosemary thinks Glynis and Freddy were meeting secretly-because there was someone coming to see her that Glynis didn’t want Rosemary to know about. She doesn’t know for a fact it was Freddy, but she knew about the trainer Glynis was sleeping with. I booked a training session with him tomorrow.” Nicky jumped down to the floor and sat down, staring at me. “Now, I’m not so sure it was Freddy I saw.” I shrugged. “I go back and forth. At the time, I would have sworn it was Freddy-but now? The guy I saw was built like Freddy, but I didn’t see his whole face. It could have been someone who looked like him.”
“Well, what Rosemary said goes with your identification. And come on, Chanse. I mean, how many guys are there that look like Freddy Bliss? It’s not like they’re a dime a dozen, unfortunately.” She sighed. “And after the way I was thrown out of the Ritz-Carlton today by Jillian’s thugs, I don’t know if I’m convinced they’re so innocent in all of this.” She lit another cigarette. “They definitely have something to hide.”
“We need to figure out how to find out whatever it was he did they don’t want us-or anyone-to know.” I said slowly. My mind was clouded by the Xanax. I was having a hard time focusing.
“Are you hungry? Let’s order some food.” She closed her notebook and shoved it back into her purse. “Enough of this for now…we can eat and get back to work. I’m starved.” She grinned. “Getting thrown out of places seems to make me hungry. What are you in the mood for? Bar burgers from the corner?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Pretty much anything sounded good at that point. I didn’t care one way or the other.
She placed the order and hung up the phone. “Are you up for some television?” She picked up the remote. She looked at me. “See what they’re saying? You’re going to have to hear it at some point-might as well get it over with.”
I nodded. She clicked the television on, and switched to a twenty-four hour news network. I groaned. It was Veronica Vance’s show.
“Can you believe it?” she shrilled in her overdone drawl. “The witness-who claims to have seen FREDDY BLISS coming out of Glynis Parrish’s house the night of the murder, is a MURDERER himself!” She shook her head dramatically. A picture of me flashed onto a split screen. It was so ridiculous I almost laughed. It was my picture from the LSU football program my senior year. Across the bottom of the picture ran a graphic: CHANSE MACLEOD, WITNESS IN PARRISH MURDER, HAS KILLED TWICE.
I was vaguely aware that Veronica was droning on in an outraged voice. The entire thing didn’t seem real. She was talking about me, and she was making me sound like a dangerous maniac. She wasn’t really lying-that was the thing. I had killed two men. But she didn’t mention the first one I killed was trying to kill me. She didn’t say the second one was holding a gun on a room full of people. My picture disappeared, and on the split screen another woman’s face appeared. She was standing just off the curb on Ursulines, and in the background I could see Glynis’s house. The crime scene tape hung across the front door. Flowers were piled on the sidewalk, along with candles and what looked like pictures of Glynis propped up against the railing. The sidewalks were full of people. The woman on Ursulines-her name appeared as a caption below her face: KATE JUDSON, NEW ORLEANS-was talking to Veronica.
“MacLeod is a former New Orleans police officer, Veronica, and left the force to go into business for himself as a private eye. According to a source very close to the investigation, MacLeod has a very close relationship with the two detectives assigned to the Parrish murder, Venus Casanova and Blaine Tujague.”
Oh, shit, I thought.
“Is this another example of that old time Louisiana justice, Kate?” Veronica went on. “A good ole boy network closing ranks to protect one of their own-even if he’s not on the force anymore?”
“Is she out of her mind?” Paige’s face was turning red.
“No one is saying that, Veronica.”
“Well, you have to admit it’s an awfully big coincidence. And one thing I learned as a prosecutor-coincidences in a murder case are few and far between. I can’t tell you how many times in one of my cases what looked like a coincidence turned out to be nothing of the sort. And now we’re going to take a break. When we come back, we’ll have more breaking news from New Orleans on the Glynis Parrish murder. I’m Veronica Vance.”
A tooth-paste commercial started hawking the plaque fighting power of a new, improved version of an old brand.
Paige muted the television. “Are you okay?” Her face was still red, and she was shaking.
“Yeah.” I replied. I was fine. It was probably the Xanax.
“I’m not.” Her voice shook with controlled rage. “I knew it would be bad-but I didn’t think it would be that bad. It never occurred to me that she’d drag Venus and Blaine into the mud, too.” She lit a cigarette. “That lousy bitch! And those so-called sources aren’t in the police department.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I replied. “It doesn’t matter where it’s coming from.”
“It’s coming from Frillian, is where it’s coming from.” Paige puffed on the cigarette so hard I thought she might snap it in two. “You saw Freddy-so they’re trying to discredit you, divert attention away from them by making it look like you’re guilty-and Venus and Blaine are covering up for you.” She got up and started pacing. “The police don’t think you’re a suspect because there was no reason for you to kill her, not because you’re friends with the investigating officers.” She walked into the little alcove and fired up her computer. “I know exactly what my next article is going to be about.” She gave me a wicked smile.
“Paige-don’t do something crazy. Think about it and calm down before you write anything you might regret later.”
“Don’t worry.” She waved her hand unconcernedly. “I know what I’m doing.”
I felt warm. I took another swallow of the wine. My palms were damp. I felt a bit nauseous. I stood up. “I’m going to go pick up the food.” I stretched. “I think I need some air.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Paige slid into her desk chair. The cigarette dangled from her mouth. When I nodded, she said “The spare keys are on the nail by the door.”
I took the keys and locked the door behind as I stepped out. It had gotten dark while I was there. The temperature had dropped about twenty degrees, and the air felt damp and cold. I shivered, and wished I’d brought a jacket with me. I walked alongside the house and unlocked the front gate. I stepped out onto the sidewalk and pulled the gate shut behind me. Once I was out in the open, I caught the full blast of the cold wind. I shivered. You can make it to the corner, it’s not that cold, I told myself.
What I really wanted was a cigarette.
I can buy a pack at the bar, I thought, and started walking towards St. Charles. I walked fast, my shoes making scrunchy noises on the wet pavement. The bar was just on the corner-just a short walk. I shivered again as a blast of cold wind pierced through my shirt and my jeans. Ahead of me, a practically empty streetcar went by. There was very little traffic on St. Charles. Behind me, I heard a car door shut. I stuck my hands in my pockets to keep them warm. The mist had come back. The windows of the cars on Polymnia Street were covered in condensation. The lights on St. Charles were haloed with yellow and blue light. I walked past the house next door to Paige’s and was almost past the vacant lot when I heard running footsteps behind me.