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“Don’t pout,” Burke said. “It’s unbecoming. Antoine, what did you find?”
“They went to high school together.” Again, Antoine turned his laptop for them to see. “I was thinking about when Gabe said that Patty and the mortician dated in high school, and that they’d remained friends. Ducote and Mule didn’t date in high school, but they attended the same one and graduated the same year. Here’s a post on Facebook—them at their twenty-fifth reunion. I don’t think that Lamont was wealthy back when he was younger. That high school was in a poorer neighborhood, even before Katrina.”
“Social media saves the day,” Xavier muttered. “This is why I don’t have a Facebook account.”
Cicely patted his hand. “That’s because I raised you smart. What about Paul Lott? How does he connect?”
Xavier had a thought. What if... He pulled up the one place online where he’d found the real Paul Lott’s picture—in that local golf tournament. He searched the faces in the photo and...
“Yes. Paul Lott and Ducote golfed together. At least they’re both in this picture.” He showed them. “It’s not a strong connection, but it’s a start.”
“It is,” Burke agreed, staring at his own laptop screen. “They golfed together in a tournament for attorneys because both were attorneys. But their connection goes back further than this game. At the beginning of his career, Ducote was a defense attorney for a local firm. Guess who else worked there? Paul Lott.”
Antoine’s head was tilted as he squinted at his laptop. “Let me see that picture of Paul Lott again, Xavier. The one at the golf tournament.”
Xavier took his laptop to where Antoine sat surrounded by his three computers. “Why?”
“Because... look at this guy here.” Antoine enlarged a portion of the high school reunion photo. “Is that Lott?”
Carlos leaned over to compare the two pictures. “Looks like.”
Xavier blinked. “The three of them went to high school together? That’s wild.”
“It is.” Then Antoine frowned. “But it doesn’t explain how Lott connects to Rocky. I mean, Lott was Rocky’s personal attorney. When did Rocky start using Lott’s services—and why? Rocky wouldn’t have contacted a defense attorney to handle his personal finances. That doesn’t make sense.”
“Unless he thought he might need one,” Willa Mae suggested. “If he was afraid that he was going to get into trouble for continuing to investigate Nadia Hall’s death.”
“I’m noting it,” Burke said. “We’ll ask Gabe when he wakes up. Knowing that Ducote, Lott, and Mule were connected as far back as high school is the most important thing. Antoine, can you search Rocky’s old cases to see if he and Paul Lott ever met in court?”
Antoine nodded. “Will do.”
Willa Mae set her knitting in her lap. “I have a question. Nadia Hall was living in a house that Ducote provided, right? Once Rocky knew her name and where exactly she’d lived—from the lady who still lives on her street—why didn’t he look up the property record and figure out it was Ducote?”
“That’s a very good question,” Burke said slowly. “Antoine?”
Antoine frowned. “Because that house wasn’t owned by Ducote. It was owned by a woman named Tanya Brown.”
“Then Tanya Brown and Ducote have to connect somehow,” Willa Mae said with conviction. “Again, assuming Ducote is Hoodie Guy, that means he knew George Haslet, the guy Ducote killed for his car. By extension, he also knows Tyson Whitley, because the same number called both men. Both men escaped justice after facing drug charges. I’m going to assume Ducote had something to do with that until we learn differently. What if Tanya Brown also was connected to Ducote in the same way?”
“Give me a minute,” Antoine muttered, and they fell silent while he searched. A few minutes later he looked up triumphantly. “Got it. Tanya Brown’s son was arrested for possession of heroin with intent to distribute, the year before Katrina. He was charged and took a plea deal. He served no time. Guess who his defense attorney was?”
“Lamont Ducote,” Xavier said heavily. “They used their house to pay for the legal fees?”
Antoine nodded. “We’ll need to verify it with Mrs. Brown, but so it would seem.”
Willa Mae resumed her knitting. “Always good to dot every i and cross every t. It’s these kinds of details that will allow the prosecutors to build a case. Since there’s no body and no murder weapon, it’s all going to rest on Xavier’s eyewitness testimony and a convincing compilation of circumstantial evidence.”
“True enough,” Burke said. “Anybody else have a good question?”
“What about his wives?” Cicely asked. “Ducote has had three. Lucille, his first wife, died by suicide, or so the ME determined at the time. What about wife number two?”
“Got it!” Carlos called out, then covered his mouth when Manny socked him in the arm, shushing him. “Sorry,” he whispered, then continued at a normal volume. “Francesca was wife number two. They were divorced. Here’s the society page announcement of wife number three—Joelle. Wives number two and three look alike.” He showed them his screen. “Gotta love the society pages. They have all the good dirt. Francesca got caught cheating and was divorced and shunned.”
“Oh, the horror,” Willa Mae deadpanned. “To be shunned.”
Carlos chuckled. “I know, right?”
“You know who also looked like those two wives?” Burke asked, leaning in to look at Carlos’s screen.
