Fat Tuesday (11 page)

"I turned in my badge this morning."

"Why?"

"I'm going after the bastard on my own."

Her eyes narrowed slightly."How intriguing. A personal vendetta."

"I suppose you could call it that."

"No doubt because of Stuart's death. I followed the story."

He nodded, but didn't elaborate."I knew the partnership between you and Duvall had gone sour, and figured there would still be some animosity. Even so, I took a chance by coming here. If something unfortunate were to happen to him, I'm trusting you to forget that I was here."

"You have my word on it, Mr. Basile."

"Thank you."

"How can I assist?"

"You're willing? Even though I tried to trick you?"

"Let's just say that I appreciate passion in all its forms."

Returning her smile, Burke sat forward eagerly."Where does Duvall keep his records? Not for his law practice. His personal records." "Here," she said, tapping her temple."There won't be any records of what you need to know, either written or on computer disks."

"-You're certain?"

"As certain as I can be. This is no small undertaking you've chosen for yourself. After the incident with my girl, I tried to think of a way to repay Pinkie. Blackmail. Embezzlement. I even considered killing him."

She laughed musically."I guess I'm trusting you with secrets, too, Mr. Basile."

"You have my word that I'll never recall this conversation to anyone else, either."

Her smile gradually faded."I never got my revenge. I devised a dozen schemes, but abandoned them all because they left me too vulnerable."

"You see, that's the beauty of this," Burke told her."I've got nothing to lose. Absolutely nothing." Looking deeply into his eyes, she said softly, "You may surprise yourself."

"I don't think so."

"I hope you're wrong." A moment passed before she stood up and crossed the room to a cabinet where glasses and liquor were stored."You're determined to have your vengeance?"

"Whatever the cost."

"It might be more costly than you think. From here on, trust no one."

"Including you?"

He meant it teasingly, but she responded seriously."Including me.

Pinkie keeps his former clients indebted to him. When they fall behind on their payments, he lets them work off their fees. Since he deals with criminals of all types, I can't stress to you enough how deadly he can be."

"I'm aware of the danger."

Burke had resolved last night that he was going for broke. He didn't care if he lived or died, as long as he took Duvall and Bardo with him.

Nevertheless, he would be a fool to dismiss the madam's advice.

She poured two shots of bourbon and brought one to him, which he accepted and thanked her for, even though he'd declined a drink earlier. Thoughtfully, she sipped from her tumbler. She tapped her fingernail against the crystal as she held it to her lips."There might be a way, Mr. Basile. Pinkie's one Achilles' heel is his Remy."

Burke tossed back his shot. The whiskey stung his throat, his eyes.

He coughed."What's a remy?"

"I don't think I need remind you that this makes the third episode this semester."

"No, Sister Beatrice. I'm all too aware of my sister's infractions."

She smoothed her skirt, an unconscious gesture of contrition held over from her days at the academy."I agree that Flarra's behavior is unacceptable."

"Not only are we responsible for our girls' educations," the nun continued, "but for their spiritual harmony and emotional stability.

Here at Blessed Heart we take very seriously the responsibility of guiding our students in every area of their lives."

"It's because of those high standards that Flarra is enrolled here."

"Yet she seems determined to break the rules, which are in place for her safety, as well as to instill self-discipline. If something like this happens again, we will be forced to expel her." "I understand," Remy said, feeling soundly chastised herself.

Although it had been twelve years since she graduated from Blessed Heart Academy, the few lectures she'd received for disobedience or poor performance were embedded in her memory. For all the benevolence of their profession, the boarding school's administrators knew how to magnify a minor infraction until it seemed a cardinal sin.

"May I see my sister alone now, please?"

Sister Beatrice stood."Certainly. You may have use of the office for fifteen minutes. Please give my regards to Mr. Duvall and thank him on behalf of the faculty for his latest endowment. His generosity never ceases. God will bless it."

"I'll tell him."

As Sister Beatrice moved past, she paused and laid her hand on Remy's arm."How are you, Remy?"

"Very well."

"Happy?"

"Certainly."

The nun had taught Remy English literature before becoming principal of the school. She could be stern when required, but she was as kind as she was strict. Her life and her career had been devoted to education, but she might have been equally as successful as a psychologist. Or a detective. With unsettling perception, she peered deeply into Remy's eyes.

"I still think of you often, Remy. And when I do, I pray for you."

"Thank you, sister."

"Sometimes I question ..." She let the thought trail off without vocalizing it, saying instead, "I love all the young ladies God places in my charge. But I'm human. Every now and then one comes along who touches my heart in a special way. You can't be surprised to know that you were one of those select few, Remy. I doubt I hid my partiality from anyone, especially you."

"I sensed your love, yes. I'm still grateful for the attention you gave me when I needed it most."

"I wanted very much for you to be happy. I would hate to think that your life hasn't been all that you hoped it would be."

"If I seem a little out of sorts today it's because I'm upset by Flarra's latest stunt."

Sister Beatrice studied her face a moment longer, then patted her arm before releasing it."Don't worry too much about Flarra. Your sister is a delightful girl. A bit more headstrong and impulsive than you."

"Or simply more courageous." "Perhaps," the nun said with a small laugh."You came to us much later than she did. You had seen more of the world."

"What I had seen of it didn't hold much allure for me."

Sister Beatrice smiled sympathetically."Flarra regards that lack of exposure a curse, not a blessing. Her problem isn't disobedience so much as curiosity. She feels constrained." After a slight hesitation, she added, "As much as I'd hate losing her, it might be time for you to consider moving her into another school, where she'll have interaction with other young people and get a better feel for what the world is like."

"I'll think about it."

Sister Beatrice withdrew slowly, gracefully, and silently, except for the whispering of her habit and the clacking of her rosary beads.

In contrast, Flarra flounced in and slammed the door closed. Her expression mutinous, she threw herself into the chair facing Remy's and glared hard at her older sister."Well? Are they kicking me out? I hope."

"No such luck for you."

Flarra's resentment lasted only another few seconds before her hauteur collapsed and her eyes filled with tears."Remy, I can't stand it in here any longer!"

"Is that why you and three of your friends sneaked out?"

"We didn't get very far."

A policeman had seen the girls, recognized them as too young to be out walking past midnight, picked them up in his patrol car, and returned them to the school.

"Where were you off to?" Remy asked.

"The French Quarter."

"At that time of night? Don't you see what an irresponsible and crazy thing that was to do, Flarra? The Quarter isn't safe."

"I wouldn't know. I never get to go."

"Pinkie and I take you there all the time. You've eaten in the finest restaurants, shopped in the best boutiques."

"With you and Pinkie. Big deal. It's not the same as going with a group of friends."

Remy conceded that her sister had a point, and her tone softened.

"No, I'm sure it's not."

Noticing the change in her sister, Flarra looked across at her.

"Did you ever sneak out?"

"Once," Remy admitted with a mischievous smile."Two of us. But we didn't get caught. We sneaked back in before we were discovered missing."

"If you confessed to Sister Be today, she'd probably make you do penance."

"Probably." Remy laughed."Actually I wasn't so scared of her finding out as I was that Pinkie would hear of it."

"How old were you?"

"Seventeen. Thereabouts."

"You got married when you were seventeen."

"Hmm. The day after graduation."

"You're so lucky," Flarra grumbled, her chin resting on her chest."To have a man fall so madly in love with you that he couldn't wait for you any longer. All my friends think it's the most wildly romantic story they've ever heard. How he became your guardian, paid for your schooling here, then married you right away."

At the time, it had seemed romantic to Remy, too. Pinkie had been like a knight in armor who rescued her and Flarra from a squalid life and certain doom. It seemed like a lifetime ago. To be exact, her lifetime.

"One day, you'll have a man fall madly in love with you," Remy assured her.

Of the two, Flarra was prettier. Her animated eyes were the vivid light green of springtime buds. Her hair was dark and glossy like Remy's, but Flarra's natural curls were unruly and extravagant. Since they'd had different fathers, neither of which was known to them, and since their mother had no family that claimed her, it was anyone's guess where this curly gene had originated.

Flarra's young body was lithe and slender and athletic, but gently rounded where it should be. The tailored school uniform couldn't completely hide the female form beneath it. That's why Remy shuddered to think of her innocent sister walking the streets of the Vieux Carre late at night where she would be prey for rowdy tourists, drunken collegiates, and countless miscreants with depravity on their minds.

"Who'll have a chance of falling in love with me when I'm locked up in here?" Flarra whined, bringing Remy back to the conversation.

"Only another year and a half, then you'll graduate and be off to college where you'll meet many new friends."

"Remy ..." Flarra slid from her chair onto her knees and knelt in front of her sister."My spirit is dying in here. I've lived inside these walls for as long as I can remember. I want to explore and experience new places. I want to meet new and interesting people. I want to meet men. I've never even been kissed."

"You told me your date to the Christmas dance kissed you."

"That?" Her face puckered with disgust."That doesn't count. He grabbed me and sort of poked his mouth against mine when the nuns werent looking. It was gross. He was all sweaty and nervous. Rather than turning me on, it made me mad."

She inched closer and lowered her voice to an urgent whisper."I'm talking about a real kiss, Remy. I want to go on a real date without nuns watching every move. I want " "Romance."

"Well, what's wrong with that?" Reaching for Remy's hands, she pressed them between her own."Please, please, please, let me come I live with you and Pinkie and go to a coed school. Just for my senior year."

Flarra was bursting to experience Life in its capitalized form.

She was curious about men because her exposure to them was limited to Pinkie, who treated her like a father would or at least a loving uncle.

Like any youth her age, her hormones were raging. That physiological boiling pot was seasoned with Flarra's innate zest for life, her active imagination and natural exuberance, and her curiosity.

Remy could understand her sister's restlessness, but she couldn't exactly relate to it. She had been an adolescent when she was admitted to the academy, but it hadn't seemed a restricting place. It had been a refuge. For her, it had been a clean, quiet, and restful haven.

Within its ivy-covered walls she had enjoyed a sense of safety and serenity that she hadn't known was possible. Music amounted to the hymns sung at mass and benediction, not a radio blaring at all hours of the day and night. No frightening characters drifted toward the alcove where she slept. There were no sly looks to fear and avoid, no drug-related rages, no filthy language, no frantic coupling on unmade beds or on any surface that wasn't being otherwise utilized. There was no hunger, and no crying baby for which she was solely responsible.

Remy gave one of Flarra's springy curls an affectionate tug, her heart swelling with love for that sickly, crying baby who had depended on her for everything food, caring, love, and protection when she was little more than a baby herself. Despite that stunting first year, Flarra had grown into an incredibly intelligent and beautiful young woman.

Remy had protected her from harm when she was a newborn, and she would continue to protect her until her dying breath.

"I'll speak to Pinkie about it."

"Promise?"

"I promise to speak with him," Remy emphasized."I don't promise that our decision will be what you want."

"Pinkie wouldn't mind if I came to live with you, would he?"

"His favorite sister-in-law?" Remy scoffed.

In fact, Pinkie had objected to Flarra's living with them when they married. She had been living in a foster home while Remy attended Blessed Heart, he said it would be cruel to uproot the child yet again.

That was the reason he gave. The real reason, Remy knew, was that he hadn't wanted Remy's time, attention, and loyalty to be divided between him and her sister.

When Flarra was old enough to go to school, he had moved her to Blessed Heart, convincing Remy that Flarra would receive the best upbringing in the boarding school. She'd really had no choice then except to agree, and, looking back on her years of marriage to Pinkie Duvall, she realized that it had been the best arrangement for all of them.

Over the years, Pinkie might have changed his mind about having Flarra with them. Remy didn't know. She hadn't asked. Because she was the one now opposed to Flarra's living under their roof. God forbid that her impressionable and impulsive younger sister come into contact with Pinkie's nefarious associates men like Wayne Bardo.