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Clete took his cell phone from his coat pocket. “He and another guy just pulled into the lot. You said he goes crazy sometimes. Does he ever carry a weapon?”
“I’m not sure,” she replied.
“Who’s the other guy?”
She looked through the window. “He used to be with the sheriff’s department. Caspian just hired him as his new security chief. His name is Boyd.”
ALBERT CALLED ME into the kitchen and said Clete was on the line.
“I’m with Felicity at Café Firenze in Florence,” Clete said. “I think I might need backup or a witness.”
“For what?”
“Caspian Younger and a dude who used to be a sheriff’s deputy are sitting on the other side of the room. Younger beat up Felicity earlier today. I think maybe it’s a setup.”
“Who’s the ex-deputy?”
“Boyd.”
“He was one of the guys who gave Gretchen a bad time up by the cave. What are they doing right now?”
“Ordering. It’s a setup, Streak. I can smell it.”
“Do you have your piece?”
“It makes Felicity nervous. I left it at the cabin.”
The little settlement of Florence was on the four-lane, ten miles south of Lolo. When I pulled into the parking lot, the summer light was still high in the sky, the mountains massive and purple with shadow against the western horizon. I went directly to Clete and Felicity Louviere’s table without looking in Caspian Younger’s direction.
“He’s packing,” Clete said.
“Who?” I said.
“The ex-deputy. When he got up to go to the restroom, I saw his clip-on. It’s probably a twenty-five.”
I pulled up a chair and asked the waiter to bring me a cup of coffee. Clete and Felicity Louviere were already eating. She hadn’t spoken or even acknowledged my presence. I could not see through her dark glasses and had no idea whether she was looking at me or not. She ate in small bites, as though the food were tasteless or a forbidden pleasure. I had no idea what went on in her head or if she was part of a plot to take Clete Purcel off the board.
“It’s nice to see you again,” I said.
“I’m glad you feel that way,” she said.
How do you respond to a statement like that? “You miss New Orleans sometimes?” I said.
“My memories of New Orleans are more bad than good. I suspect that’s my fault. But no, I don’t miss it.”
I saw the blank look in Clete’s face. I ordered a bowl of minestrone. Across the room, Caspian Younger and Jack Boyd were eating silently, without expression. Caspian’s right leg was jiggling up and down.
“I’m going into the can,” Clete said. “If one of those guys follows me, it’s going down.”
“Sure you want to play it out here?” I said.
“I’ve got to use the can. What am I supposed to do? Hold it all the way back to Lolo?” he replied.
After he had left the table, Felicity Louviere looked up from her food and said, “You don’t approve of me, do you?”
“I like you just fine,” I replied. “But I don’t like the fact that you’re married, and I don’t like what you’re doing to Clete.”
“I don’t blame you,” she replied. She resumed eating, tilting her head back down.
