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“She never had a mother. That’s the problem.”
“There’s Clete’s motel,” I said.
“He’s quite a guy, huh? The Navy Cross and two Purple Hearts in Vietnam?”
“Something like that. He doesn’t talk about it.”
“Be honest with me on something. Were you or Purcel ever tempted to take juice at NOPD?”
“I’m going to let that one slide, Carroll.”
“I didn’t mean to rumple your threads. Geez.”
I could see a few houses on stilts out on the bay. Waves full of sand were sliding into the sawgrass. In a few years most of this area would be washed away.
“When we get back to New Iberia, you and I need to have a talk,” I said.
I pulled up to the motel just as Clete stepped out of a room, his Caddy parked by the door. He was wearing a suit and tie and his porkpie hat. “Big mon,” he said.
* * *
THE THREE OF us sat in an isolated booth at the back of the motel café. Clete and I ordered coffee. Carroll ordered a beer. Clete’s eyes met mine, then he looked out the window at four brown pelicans flying in formation just above the surf.
“Here’s what I got,” Clete said. “Shondell has a fuck pad on stilts about a mile down the levee. A pontoon plane has been there a couple of times. Shondell has some muscle on a tugboat close by. My insider guy thinks he saw Johnny Shondell.”
“Who’s your insider guy?” I asked.
Clete glanced at Carroll. “A guy who owes me some favors.”
Carroll caught it. “You don’t trust me?” he said, trying to smile.
“A guy who does airboat rides,” Clete said.
“You saw Adonis and Penelope in a restaurant in Houma?” I said.
“They ignored me. Maybe they didn’t even notice me,” Clete said. He scratched his forehead and looked around. “I mentioned the muscle on the tugboat. I had my binoculars on it. I saw a couple of women. I also saw a guy who worked with Delmer Pickins. The guy’s a sadist. Maybe that fuck pad is more than just a fuck pad.”
“Maybe your imagination is running away with you,” Carroll said.
Clete’s eyes locked on Carroll’s. “Could be.”
“You think Isolde is in there?” I said.
“I don’t know,” Clete said.
“How long you been scoping the place?” Carroll said. He took a sip from his beer.
> “What difference does it make?” Clete said.
“I was just asking,” Carroll said.
“I got to take a drain,” Clete said. He looked at me. “See you outside, Dave.”
* * *
A FEW MINUTES LATER, I asked Carroll to take our unmarked car up the road, where he could get cell phone service, and check in with Helen. “Sure,” he said. “Sorry about ordering that beer. It helps calm my stomach.”
“It’s all right,” I said.
