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“It’s really good.” It was, too. Ham and onion and horseradish, one of my favorites.
“Did something happen today?”
“No, not really.”
“Nothing happened?”
“Somebody put some money in our mailbox. It’s a bribery attempt. Batist thinks it was a guy on a motorcycle. Somebody with riding chaps and tattoos on his back. So kind of look out for him, although I doubt he’ll be back.”
“Is this about Weldon Sonnier?”
“Yeah, I think Clete and I shook up somebody’s cookie bag when we went to Bobby Earl’s house.”
“You think Bobby Earl’s trying to bribe you?”
“No, he’s slicker than that. It’s probably coming from somewhere else, maybe somebody who’s connected with him. I’m not sure.”
“You got a call from Drew Sonnier.”
“Oh?”
“Why did she call here, Dave?”
“I left my card at her house this morning.”
“At her house. I see.”
“Lyle said somebody broke into her house.”
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“Doesn’t that involve the city police, not the sheriff’s department?”
“She didn’t report it to them.”
“I see. So you’re investigating?”
I looked at the mallards splashing on the pond at the back of our property.
“I promised Lyle I’d talk to her.”
“Lyle made you promise? Is that right? I had the impression that you had a low opinion of Lyle.”
“Ease up, Boots. This case is a pain in the butt as it is.”
“I’m sure that it is. Why don’t we ask Drew over sometime? I haven’t seen her in a long time.”
“Because I’m not interested in seeing Drew.”
“I think she’s very nice. I’ve always been fond of her.”
“What should I do, Boots? Pretend she’s not part of this case?”
“Why should you do that? I don’t think you should do that at all.”
I could see the peculiar cast coming into her eyes, as though inside her head she had seen a thought or a conclusion that should have been as obvious to the rest of the world as it was to her.
“Let’s go to the track tonight,” I said.
