She didn’t get far. “Why’re you really here?” Yvette called. “Afraid I’m going to run off with her ten grand?”
The amount knocked the wind out of Stacy. “She’s paying you ten thousand dollars?”
“Fifty. Ten’s the deposit.”
Stacy gazed at the young woman, her dislike of her so strong she felt ill. “That money’s part of her husband’s life insurance payoff.”
“And it’s hers to spend as she chooses.”
Stacy shook her head. “You make me sick.”
Yvette stiffened. “I’m being paid for performing a service. She made the offer, I took it.”
“Performing a service. That’s what you do, right? It’s at the heart of all your relationships, your every move. I was going to apologize for what I said about life being all about money for you. Now I see just how accurate that comment was.”
51
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
8:05 a.m.
Patti worked to shake out the mental cobwebs. She sat at her kitchen table, cup of coffee and the Times-Picayune on the table in front of her.
Still no Artist. Not at Yvette’s apartment, not at the Hustle. She was beginning to think Yvette was right: he had gotten spooked and had taken off.
Her cell phone vibrated. She saw from the display that it was Stacy. “What’s up?” she answered.
“The brat refuses to get up.”
“Did you try shooting her in the butt?”
“Very funny. Should I douse her with a glass of cold water? I’ve got to head in.”
Patti dragged a hand through her hair. “Leave her. I’ll clean up and head over there and collect Sleeping Beauty.”
“Wrong story. This one’s more like Beauty and the Beast. Guess who’s the Beast?”
Patti laughed. “All quiet last night?”
“Yes. You?”
“No Artist.”
“Thoughts?”
“It’s too early to think, I’ll check in later.”
Patti hung up. Yvette had grown more difficult to manage by the day. She believed the Artist had lost interest. No longer afraid, the young woman was all attitude and no gratitude.
If Patti didn’t want this guy so desperately, she’d cut Yvette loose. She had lied to her chief and the men and women under her command. She had alienated Spencer and now driven a wedge between him and Stacy. And for what?
Her cell phone went off again, but this time it wasn’t Stacy. It was June.
“I’m at your front door,” she said. “I come bearing gifts.”
“I’ll be right there.”
A moment later, she swung open the door. June held a napkin-covered basket. “I went crazy baking. Save me from myself?”
“You’re an angel of mercy, you know that?”
She stepped aside so her friend could enter. “Why didn’t you ring the bell?”
“I was afraid you might be sleeping. I know your new hours are…different.”
Patti cut her an amused glance. “Who’ve you been talking to?”
“Spencer.”
Big surprise. “Come on, I’ve got coffee.”
June followed her to the kitchen. Patti got out plates and napkins, filled a mug for June and freshened her own.
Muffins, Patti saw as they sat down. Big, fat banana-nut muffins.
Heaven on earth.
June made pretty much the best muffins on the planet. They were so good, for a time she had considered marketing them. She could have been the Mrs. Fields of muffins. But then the low-carb craze had come along, and she’d abandoned the idea.
“So what Spencer told me is true.”
Patti dug in. “What’d he tell you?”
“That you asked for a leave of absence to try to track down Sammy’s killer yourself. That you’ve lost hold of your senses. That you’ve now involved Stacy in it. He’s quite worried.”
“And he called you and asked if you would try to talk some sense into me.”
“Pretty much. What’s going on?”
“I haven’t lost my mind, if you’re worried.”
June smiled and peeled away a muffin’s paper liner. “Prove it.”
“Yes, I’ve taken a leave of absence. I don’t think that in itself is so shocking. As for tracking down Sammy’s killer, I’ve had doubts about Franklin. The department does not. While I’m footloose and fancy free, I thought I’d investigate a few leads.”
“Now, venturing into the ‘lost it’ category. That’s not who Patti O’Shay is.”
Patti looked away, then back. “I’m not so certain I know who Patti O’Shay is anymore.”
“It’s natural for you to feel this way.” June reached across the table and covered Patti’s hand with her own. “After what you’ve been through.”
“Now, I’ve inserted a wedge between Spencer and Stacy.”
“He said she moved out. That they were through.”
Patti nodded. “How’d he sound?”
“Miserable.” June took a sip of her coffee. “Personally, I say good for her. It’s about time.”
“How can you say that?”
“Has he not been stringing her along? Taking her for granted? Men wield all the power in relationships. Seems like she’s taking some back.” She reached for her muffin. “Again, I say good for her.”
June had said things like that before. Patti felt bad for her. Several failed romances and a short, disastrous marriage had left her wary of men, cynical about relationships and the balance of power between the sexes.
Patti’s experience had been so different-mutual respect, give and take, collaboration.
“You’re not the only one who’s lost their mind,” June continued. “Riley seems to have taken leave of his senses as well.”
“How so?”
“He’s besotted with that dancer. Yvette-”
“Borger?”
She nodded. “He does this, gets all head-over-heels stupid about some woman, then when it doesn’t work out, he mopes around for weeks. Then suddenly-”
“-is head-over-heels over another one?”
“Exactly.” June sighed. “She came to see him play the other night.”
“What night?”
“Last Thursday.”
The night she disappeared. So that’s where she’d gone.
“Why does he keep falling for women like her?”
“What do you mean, women like her?”
“You know what I mean. Strippers, party girls. Why can’t he fall for someone like Shauna?”
“Yvette’s okay,” Patti said, realizing she was defending the woman to yet another person in her life, this time her oldest friend. “She hasn’t had it easy.”
“Who has?” June shot back. “You didn’t see me drop out, resort to drugs or turning tricks.”
Patti stiffened, offended. “As far as either of us know, she has turned to neither drugs nor prostitution.”
“Lap dancing is-”
“A way for a young, uneducated woman to make a good living. Not all of us have a fat inheritance to fall back on. I respect her for doing as well as she has.”
June flushed. Patti squeezed her hand. “We can agree to disagree. Right?”
“Sure. I-” She cleared her throat. “Forgive me. I sounded just awful then, didn’t I? Like one of those snobs Mother used to play bridge with. Always looking down their noses at somebody. I guess the Good Lord knew what He was doing when He didn’t give me children.”
“That’s just nonsense. You have Riley. You’ve been watching out for him most of his life. And he’s turned out wonderfully.”
Patti was shocked to see June’s eyes fill with tears. “I’ve screwed him up. Made him too dependent. Emasculated him.”
“Emasculated? June, that’s just not true. You’ve been a wonderful sister.”
“I worry about him. About the way he sometimes broods. He’ll withdraw from me, become almost secreti-” She bit the thought back. “He’ll be fine.”
“Exactly. He’ll be fine.”
“Thank you.” June caught her hand again, holding it tightly. “You’re my best friend, Patti.”