“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” I took both of her hands in mine and squeezed them. “That must have been difficult.”
“Being in foster care was no picnic.” She struggled to get hold of herself. “Would you mind getting me a water?”
I stood up and walked back inside just as the kid with the gray sweatpants was walking out. He smiled at me, and I saw the row of braces across his lower teeth. I smiled back and went to the counter. There was no line, and as I ordered the bottled water, I looked out the front windows and saw the kid talking to Rosemary.
She opened the water and took a big slug. “Joey?” She gave me a weak smile. “He’s just one of the neighborhood kids. He’s really sweet. I met him one morning when I was outside smoking on the stoop-Glynis wouldn’t let me smoke in the house. He bummed a cigarette from me, and we started talking. He’s a good kid, really. He’s had it rough-not foster care, like me, but his parents threw him out.” She shrugged. “I pay him to run errands for me every once in a while. You know, just to help him out.”
“I’d swear I’d seen him somewhere before.”
She gave me a sly look. “Ever go to a place called the Brass Rail? He dances there on weekends.”
Thinking maybe she’d brought up a gay bar to test the waters, I replied cautiously. “I’ve been there, but not in months.” I didn’t like the place. One of the more disreputable gay bars in the Quarter, it was not in the St. Ann axis. It was on Burgundy, further uptown in the Quarter. Its primary draw was the kids dancing on the bar in their underwear-and it attracted an older crowd. The Brass Rail only hired dancers who looked like they weren’t legal-and rumor had it they were also for sale. On the rare occasions when I went there, I always felt kind of sleazy. The dancers were very forward-as opposed to the ones in the Fruit Loop. That made me uncomfortable-I’m not opposed to strippers, as long as they didn’t try to get money out of me. If I wound up there, it was only after I’d been drinking and someone else made the suggestion. I never stayed for long. “Anyway, I need to get going.” I made a show of checking my watch. “Oh, do you know if Brett trains at a particular gym? I haven’t had much luck getting him to return my calls.”
“He trains at Bodytech, Uptown. I think it’s on Magazine Street.” She shrugged. “When Glynis was looking for a trainer, I saw his ad in
Bodytech was my gym, but I didn’t know any of the trainers there. I wondered which one he was. “And how about Darlene? She hasn’t called me back, either.”
She frowned. “Why do you need to talk to them?”
I smiled back. “Just tying up some loose ends, is all.”
She shrugged. “Darlene’s a little strange, to tell you the truth. Something about her always bothered me, but I could never quite put my finger on what it was. I’ll call her and tell her to call you.”
“Thanks.” I stood up, and she rose as well. She startled me by coming around the table and hugging me.
“Thanks.” She wiped at her eyes. “I don’t really have any friends here.”
“Well, you can call me anytime.” I replied. “What are you going to do now? For work?”
“Go back to the agency I worked for and hope they can find something for me.” She replied.
“What agency?”
“Girl Friday.” She wiped at her face. “Maybe the person I worked with before I took the job with Glynis will take me back.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t, though. Mrs. Clifford was really good to me-she didn’t deserve my leaving her the way I did.” She sighed. “It was wrong of me, but I really wanted to work for Glynis.”
“Not Sophia Clifford?” New Orleans was truly a small town. I’d done some work for Girl Friday when the agency first opened, doing background checks on prospective temp workers. I also knew Sophia Clifford slightly. A widow, she’d moved to New Orleans after her husband died with a lot of money to burn, and had gotten involved in the arts scene as a patroness. Originally from Greece, she had a thick accent and was prone to always wearing incredibly elaborate hats and gloves. The first time I’d run into her after the hurricane she’d rushed up to me and exclaimed, “Chanse darling! My house was looted by drag queens! All they took were my gloves and my hats!”
“You know her?” Rosemary was peering at me. “Maybe you could put in a good word with her for me?”
“Sure.” I smiled at her. “I’d be glad to. And call me anytime.”
“Thanks.” She wiped at her face again. “It means a lot.” She smiled.
I watched her walk up Barracks Street. I sat back down and got my little notebook out of my back pocket. I wrote down some of what she had told me, and then wrote the name
What she’d told me was interesting, but none of it was verifiable. If Freddy had been having an affair with Glynis, he certainly wouldn’t admit to it now. And she had no proof; it was all just conclusions she’d drawn from what she’d observed. It also didn’t make a lot of sense-why would Glynis be sending Freddy those threatening e- mails if they’d rekindled their romance? Unless, of course, she was using her knowledge of Freddy’s past to blackmail him back into her bed. That didn’t make sense, either. There was no need for Glynis to send him threats if she were seeing him in person. And if Freddy knew Glynis was the threat, he wouldn’t have hired me-and he certainly wouldn’t have told Jillian about it. She would be the last person he’d want to know about the e-mails.
Talking to Rosemary had just made the mess even messier. She only
If Jillian knew Freddy and Glynis were reconciling, that would give her a motive-but then, that didn’t wash with me either. Freddy was Jillian’s fourth or fifth husband. It’s not like she was a stranger to failed marriages. I doubted very seriously she would be so enraged she’d kill Glynis. She’d just get a lawyer and divorce him.
I glanced at my watch. It was now after three. I flipped open my phone and dialed Bodytech. Allen would most likely be gone.
After the hurricane, I’d started seeing Allen Johnson, who owned Bodytech. I’d known Allen for years. He and his long-time partner had separated after the flood. We were both lonely, and I hadn’t been surprised when Allen and his partner had gotten back together again. Things between us had been uncomfortable for a while, but they were getting better. Still, these days I chose to work out in the evenings when I knew he wouldn’t be there.
My therapist called it
“Bodytech Fitness.” Mallory answered, the nice young woman who worked the afternoon and evening shift at the front desk. I liked her a lot.
“Hi Mallory, this is Chanse MacLeod. I was wondering if I could make an appointment with Brett for training?”
“Seriously?” She laughed. “I’m sorry-you caught me offguard. You want a training session?”
“Well, I feel like my workouts are getting a little stale, and I thought maybe a few sessions with a trainer would motivate me,” I lied. “And Brett was recommended to me.”
“Let me check the book.” There was a clunk as she set the phone down. “Okay, he has an opening tomorrow morning at ten. Does that work for you?”
“Nothing tonight?”
“Sorry, no, he’s booked solid. Should I put you down for ten tomorrow morning?” Her voice became business- like as she went into her spiel. “There’s no charge for the first session, but after that it’s fifty dollars a session, in advance, unless you buy a package, and that’s $200 for five, or $375 for ten-both of which are deeply discounted on paying one at a time. Ten, of course, is the best deal. It works out to $37.50 per session.”
“Thanks, Mallory, put me down for tomorrow morning…”
Chapter Nine
I called a cab from Cafe Envie to go home.
The day was beautiful. The sun was out and there was a nice breeze blowing in from the river. I crossed the street to wait for my cab. I leaned against the black wrought iron fence in front of the old U. S. Mint building. There
