French Quarter Read Online Free PDF Page B

would go. “And there are plenty of people who wonder what happened to it.”
    He had his answer. “Are you talkin’ about my parents’ estate now, Mrs. Payne?” he asked, and if she had any sense, the soft pitch of his voice would have made her very nervous. “Because if you are, there’s no mystery. I was the sole beneficiary, which seems unremarkable to me.”
    “Blood money,” she muttered. “Drug money. Payoffs.”
    She didn’t have any sense. Ah, well. “Blood money? I wouldn’t know anything about that. Or payoffs. But I do have to set you straight on the drugs, ma’am. Hard for a man to get rich on those. Cosa Nostra has a very strict code of ethics. Good family ethics. If a brother deals in drugs—he’s dead. Insults against the family? Same sentence.”
    Bitsy Payne backed toward the door. “Neville will wonder where I am,” she said faintly. “Come along, Celina.”
    “I have to stay until the police say I can go,” Celina said. “But I’ll call you a cab.”
    Bitsy showed no sign of budging.
    “Wait a few minutes and I’ll walk you out,” Dwayne said. “If we get questioned by the press, just say, ‘No comment.’ I’ll tell them you and I are old friends. We came to give our condolences together because we’re a comfort to each other.”
    Bitsy said, “Call me a cab, Celina.”

Five
     
    Naked on top of the rumpled bed, Wilson Lamar stretched and yawned and slapped his flat belly while he smiled down at the only body he revered—his own.
    “Aren’t you just a teensy bit wiggly, Wilson?” Sally Lamar asked her husband, watching him in her dressing table mirror.
    Wilson was always partly erect—something else that brought him pleasure. It used to bring Sally pleasure before he’d lost interest in making love to her.
    Brushing her long, dark red hair slowly, she caught his blue eyes in the mirror and smiled at him. “Just a teensy bit?” she murmured. “This is going to be a long, busy day. Let’s give each other something to remember while we get ready to charm the people tonight. Some encouragement?”
    “We’ve slept the morning away. Where’s the remote? I’m going to miss the one o’clock news.”
    Sally knew enough to make sure her smile didn’t slip. “On the table beside you, hon.” The bastard. He was nothing without her. “They’re putting those darling white lights in the trees, Wilson. I think I’m going to ask for more along the galleries. What d’you think of that, lover?”
    If Wilson thought about anything at all at that moment, it was Wilson. Everything he ever did was calculated to the greater glory of Wilson Lamar, and the senate race he expected to win. He didn’t answer her question, but then, she hadn’t expected him to do so.
    The fine silk nightgown Sally wore was white, with thin straps that didn’t want to stay on her shoulders. Only her breasts stopped the garment from succumbing to gravity. She got up to stand in front of the French doors she’d already opened, clasped her hands behind her head, and arched her back, taking pleasure in a warm breeze that passed over her body.
    “Get away from there, Sally,” Wilson said. “How many times have 1 told you not to advertise your wares to the world?”
    “Why, Wilson, you do care,” she said, and walked onto the gallery, catching up a robe as she went. She hummed, and played a game she liked. Inside her head she created a little roulette wheel and gave it a spin. Her white ball bounced around and the wheel slowed. “Red is yes, and black is no,” she chanted quietly. “Red, I do, and black, I don’t. Red, I get what I want, and black, well, I guess I’m not in the mood for black today. We’ll have to see what we can find at the party tonight.” She wouldn’t have any problem finding a willing playmate to pass a little time with.
    She pulled on the robe and leaned on the gallery railing. The beautiful old double-galleried house was on the southern edge of the Garden District