A Crying Shame (27 page)

Jon stood by impassively, listening to the sheriff stomp through and around the truth.

Why was I kept away from the crime scene for so long?” The editor flapped his arms like a big ugly bird preparing for takeoff.
What are you people trying to hide? How many intruders were there? Was Ms. Breaux hurt?”

You were kept away from the scene because of the large amount of physical evidence scattered around the grounds of Despair Plantation. We are not attempting to hide anything, Mr. Blackwell. As for the intruders ... two or more, at least. Ms. Breaux was not injured. We still have not concluded our evidence-gathering at the plantation, so the grounds will remained closed for a time longer. I'm sure you have file photos of the home you can use.”

Got to be a master politician to be a sheriff nowadays, Jon thought, listening to Mike—and a practiced liar. His smile was slight. One and the same, he concluded.

Don't tell me what I have or have not,” Blackwell snapped.
Do you have any suspects in custody?”

Not at this time.”

Blackwell snorted.
Why don't you pick up a few local kids?” he suggested.
Blame it on them. That's about your speed.” He stalked off, his back stiff with anger.

Lesson number one on how to win friends and influence people,” Jon said.

Blackwell is an insufferable prick,” Mike said.

Jon laughed.
I never would have guessed.”

Outside, Jon paused at his car long enough to take a small travel bag out of the trunk and place it on the front seat of Saucier's patrol car, between them.

What's in the bag?” Mike asked.

Two weapons.” He was tersely informed.

Are they legal?”

Jon grinned, his teeth flashing against the very dark tan of his face.
One of them is.”

Mike grunted.
You probably have a damned arsenal in the trunk of your car.”

Quite,” Jon agreed.

Is that car yours?”

In a manner of speaking?”

Mike decided not to push for a more definite answer; he wasn't all that sure he wanted to know more about the car. Damned thing might well be stolen.

The men were silent for a few moments, Jon breaking the silence by saying,
The automobile is mine. I keep it in New Orleans.”

Then you live in New Orleans?”

No.”

More silence.

Well, damn it, man! Where do you live!”

France. A small village just outside Paris. When I'm home, that is.”