Amy was fifteen. He was ten. She taught him to do the Boogaloo. She called him “little soul brother.”
He paused, then went to his bureau. He opened a drawer, pulling the worn envelope out from under his underwear.
He sifted slowly through the pictures, pausing at the portrait of his sister Yolanda. Hand on hip, cocky tilt to her head, flirtatious smile. He wished he could remember her that way. Not the way she had looked the last time he saw her. She had been standing on the porch, screaming, crying, as the social services woman put him in the big green car.
His sister. . he could still remember her touch when she washed him, her voice when she rocked him to sleep. His sister had been there for him.
Louis picked up another faded photo. It was of his mother Lila, the one taken when she was eighteen and still beautiful. Where had she been that day? He remembered she was sleeping. Or had she been passed out?
He picked up the faded snapshot of the white man in the straw hat.
And where were you, you sonofabitch?
Louis lifted his eyes to his reflection in the dresser mirror.
I don’t even know what you really look like. Or if I have any part of you in my face.
Louis dropped the photo to the dresser and turned away from the mirror. He rubbed his face and glanced at his watch. It was after midnight and he needed some sleep.
He moved back to the bed and started to gather up the files. Finally, he gave up and just shoved them aside, crawling up against the pillows and leaning his head back against the headboard.
The rain was beating a steady rhythm on the roof, and he tried to relax, but there was too much junk swimming in his head. Too many pictures of girls’ bruised faces and shadowy men in straw hats.
He heard a noise and sat up.
The creak of his screen door. He moved quickly off the bed, to the bedroom door and peered out into the dark living room. There was someone there.
Louis reached around the doorjamb and flipped on the light.
Jack Cade squinted at him, his black hair matted to his head, rain streaking his face.
“What the fuck?” Louis said. “What are you doing here?”
Cade brushed his hair off his forehead. “Ronnie sold some land. I got bail.”
“I don’t care. Get the fuck out.”
Cade slowly peeled off his windbreaker, water puddling at his feet.
Louis took a step toward him. “Hey, man, I said get out.”
Cade eyed Louis through thick-lidded slits. He tossed the sodden jacket on a chair.
“When I’m ready.”
Louis grabbed the jacket, opened the screen door and tossed it to the porch.
“Leave,” he said, holding open the door.
“You’re starting to annoy me, Louie.”
“Look, you don’t just walk in someone’s house in the middle of the damn night.”
“You afraid of me?”
“Fuck no.”
“Good. We need to talk.”
“Not here. You want to talk, call me at Susan Outlaw’s office.”
Cade didn’t move. Louis stared at him, debating whether he should try to throw him out. But Cade probably had at least twenty pounds on him.
“I’m dripping on your floor here, Louie,” Cade said. His eyes were traveling around the small living room, finally focusing on the bedroom door. He moved quickly to it.
“Hey!” Louis yelled. He followed Cade, letting the screen door slam.
Cade didn’t stop or look back. He went through the bedroom and disappeared into the bathroom. He emerged with a towel. He vigorously rubbed his face and hair dry then tossed the towel on the floor.
“Get out of here,” Louis said evenly.
But Cade just looked at him, his face shadowed by the dim light. “I could sure use a beer or something.”
Louis shook his head. “I’m out. You got thirty seconds.”
Cade gave a small shrug. His eyes were moving slowly over the bedroom now. Louis felt himself tense, unnerved by the intimacy of Cade’s gaze as it moved across his clothes, his books, his bed. Cade’s eyes came to rest on Issy. The cat was lying in the pile of clothes on the floor, its ears flattened back as it stared up at Cade.
“That your kitty?” Cade asked.
Louis didn’t answer. The thunder rolled overhead, fading away. Cade was looking at the files on the bed now. He cocked his head to try to read the top one.
“Don’t touch anything,” Louis said.
Cade’s eyes zeroed in on the blurry blowup of Kitty Jagger. He looked back at Louis. “That’s my old file, ain’t it?”
Cade bent and gently opened the file. Louis took a step toward him and Cade drew back, letting the folder close.
“I’d like to read it.”
“Not tonight.”
“I always wondered what Ahnert’s take on me was.”
Louis hid his surprise. “Detective Ahnert?”
“Yeah. Good old Bob.”
“Forget Ahnert. You need to leave,” Louis said sharply. He moved to the bed and started gathering up the files.
Cade picked up the picture of Kitty and held it out. “Forgot something,” he said.
Louis grabbed the picture and stuffed it in a folder. “Look, Cade,” he said. “We’re going to get something straight. You don’t come here unannounced and not at night. You don’t ever just drop in on Miss Outlaw, either. You-”
Cade had moved away. Louis spun around.
Cade had stepped to the dresser. He picked up the old snapshot.
“Who’s this?” he asked.
Louis started to grab it, but Cade was too quick. He pulled away, taking a few steps back as he looked at the picture, then back up at Louis.
“This your old man?” he asked.
“None of your fucking business.”
“He still alive?”
Suddenly Louis didn’t care what his chances were. He didn’t want Cade touching that picture. He tensed, ready to lunge, but before he could, Cade tossed the snapshot back on the dresser. He was staring at Louis now, and Louis had a sickening feeling Cade could read his mind.
“I didn’t know my old man either,” Cade said. “I had my mom, but the old man, well, he was in Raiford and some bastard stuck a fork in his belly.”
Cade pointed to his own chest. “Leaves a hole, you know, a hole right here.”
Cade’s eyes were moving slowly over the bedroom again. “Yup, fathers are important, Louie, no matter what they are. You can’t separate from them, even if you want to. It’s important for a man to know where he comes from, what kind of blood runs through his veins.”
Louis moved quickly, grabbing Cade’s arm and shoving him toward the living room. Cade jerked away, backing up.
“Let me say what I came here to say,” Cade said.
“Make it quick.”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day, about that girl. I’ve decided I don’t want you digging around in it. There’s nothing there. Leave that girl dead and buried.”
Louis knew Cade could probably break his neck, but he didn’t care. He just wanted him out. He shoved Cade and he stumbled toward the screen door.
“Get out,” Louis hissed. “You ever come here again, I’ll have your ass arrested. After I kick the shit out of you.”
Cade looked back at Louis, amused. He scooped his windbreaker off the porch and took a quick step toward Louis. He poked his finger in Louis’s chest.
“A hole,” he said. Then he smiled. “You hang onto that picture, Louie.”
Cade turned and hit the screen door. It slapped closed behind him. Louis watched him disappear into the shadows of the trees.
Chapter Fourteen
It wasn’t hard finding Ahnert. He was still with the Sheriff’s Department, working out of a substation in a place called Corkscrew Bend. But when Louis phoned, he was told Ahnert was off for the Thanksgiving weekend. In the phone book, Louis found a Robert Ahnert living down in San Carlos Park. When he called, a cheerful woman named Brenda told him her father-in-law loved visitors and that Louis should come on by.