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20
Tulane-Gravier, New Orleans, Louisiana
WEDNESDAY, JULY 27, 11:45 P.M.
Lamont stood before the mirror in his office, straightened his tie, and decided that he looked fine. He looked normal. Dressed in one of the spare suits he always kept in his office, he looked like the dignified public servant that he wanted the world to see.
He surveyed the small washroom, wishing he had a black light so that he could be sure that he’d cleaned up all the blood. Using the cleaver, he’d taken care of Ashley’s body in the shower stall, so none of her blood should be anywhere on the washroom walls or floor.
He’d scrubbed the shower stall top to bottom, but he’d known of enough cases where the killer got careless or cocky and missed a drop of blood somewhere. Those guys were currently serving life terms.
Not me.He’d cleaned everything with bleach, including the very expensive knife set he’d purchased from a kitchen shop in the Quarter—with cash, of course. A gift, he’d told the cashier.
A very nice gift, she’d replied with a smile.
He’d get another set, just in case someone came looking. Another set that didn’t have Ashley’s blood all over it. Again, he’d known of too many killers who’d thought that they’d cleaned all the blood off their weapons.
They were serving life sentences, too.
Not me.He’d triple-bagged everything, including the clothing he’d been wearing when he’d killed her. The clothing he’d burn. Everything else was going into the bayou.
He inspected the two boxes into which he’d packed the triple-bagged remains of his former assistant. They looked professionally wrapped, the silver foil paper gleaming in the overhead fluorescent lights. The bows were a nice touch, if he did say so himself.
Presents for Joelle, he’d tell James, if his driver asked.
He loaded the boxes on the dolly that he’d grabbed from the mail room on his way back from his little shopping trip that evening. Carting them out of his office and down the elevator to the lobby was easy as pie. He met no one along the way and that was just fine with him.
James got out of the car when he approached. “Good evening, sir. You’re working mighty late tonight.”
“I have a big case next week. Can you give me a hand with the boxes?”
Because he never would have put them into the car himself. See? Normal.
“Certainly, sir. They’re very pretty.”
“Something for Joelle.”
“I’m sure she’ll be happy to get whatever it is,” James said, hoisting the boxes into the more-than-ample trunk of the town car. Luckily Ashley hadn’t weighed all that much. Then James opened the back passenger door. “Sir?”
Lamont slid into the back seat and let himself relax. Almost there.
James got behind the wheel. “Home?”
“Yes, please. It’s been a very long day.”
He’d have James place the boxes in the garage when they got home. Joelle would probably be in bed already, so she’d never know they were there. James would be too discreet to mention them to her, even if he had any opportunity to do so. Which he probably would not.
James was not a fan of Joelle. Join the club, buddy.
Lamont checked his phone, hoping for a text from Jackass saying that Margaret Sutton’s family was in their hands. Nothing so far, and he wondered what the man was waiting for. How hard could it be to kidnap a woman and her child?
He thumbed out a text. Anything?
The reply came a few minutes later. Waiting for the lights to go out. Easier that way. We have time. The lady PI checked out the house in SC. It went boom. She’s in the hospital tonite. Should be released tmw. She’ll take us seriously now. She’ll be cooperative when she learns we have the sister.
Lamont exhaled a sigh of relief. Finally something was going right. Just let me know.
A thumbs-up emoji buzzed, and he pocketed his phone, leaned back, and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, and he still had a long night ahead of him. He’d grab a quick nap as James navigated the still-crowded streets. Then, off to the bayou.
