“No, Mario.” Lucy frowned. “It’s very much alive.”
Wanda confirmed she never saw the other person, but she’d heard a scuffle, and Lucy confirmed that she’d seen a man in a red shirt running out the door and down the street, a man she was certain was Felipe Cruz.
She and Mario exchanged a look. “You’re sure?” he asked.
She nodded and delivered what she saw as a white lie. “I saw his profile when he went out the door.” She hadn’t, but the man she’d chased was Felipe Cruz. She knew it.
Mario passed the information he’d collected to the sergeant in charge. He was just wrapping up his report when Detective Henry Nelson from Homicide walked in the door and said he’d be taking over the scene.
The sergeant turned to Zack. “When did this become a homicide?”
“Vivien Bluff died. She never made it to the hospital,” Zack said.
From across the room, Lucy heard those dreaded words and shouted “That bastard!” then ran over to Detective Zack. “Are you sure?”
“Sorry. Paramedics did all they could,” Zack said.
Zack took control and cleared everyone out of the building and directed the police to keep spectators behind the yellow crime-scene tape.
The salon closed for the day, and Lucy would be lucky to get back into the apartment by night. So, Lucy and Wanda parked themselves at Café Beignet. Soon as the coffee was delivered to the table, Wanda hit Lucy with her concerns.
“What the hell are we going to do?” Wanda said.
“What are you talking about?” Lucy frowned.
“Vivien is gone, and so are our jobs and apartment.”
Cold-hearted Voodoo Lucy couldn’t help but believe the gods were smiling down on her. Only twenty-four hours earlier she’d signed the paperwork to buy the salon.
“I bought the salon from Vivien yesterday,” Lucy said.
Wanda laughed, then stopped when Lucy wasn’t. “How? You’re as broke as me.”
Lucy whispered over her coffee. “All I can tell you is it’s done, and legally. I have paperwork to prove the transaction. For once, we have a legitimate business.”
“Bullshit,” Wanda shot back at her. After a moment, she asked, “Does this have anything to do with your father?”
“Sure, Mom. He left me a ton of cash, and I bought the salon.”
Wanda laughed. “Yeah, right. He couldn’t even rob a bank without getting himself killed.”
Lucy didn’t bother to correct her. The less Wanda knew, the better.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next day, the beauty salon was business as usual, the best it could be without Vivien. Lucy stepped in, organizing the appointments, ordering the hair care products, and assuring the employees they would get paid at the end of each week. Lucy’s take-charge attitude was welcome, for all the employees were interested in was their jobs and their next paycheck. Like most people, they lived to check to check.
After making a list of customers and phone numbers, Lucy handed them out. The beauticians took turns calling customers, assuring them not much had changed. Appointment times and hair stylists were mostly the same, except for Vivien’s customers, who had been divided among the girls. Once the calls were completed, not one customer canceled, and in fact, they all seemed to be happy the business wasn’t closing.
A tap on the front window as things were settling down got Lucy smiling. Mario’s morning foot patrol had started, and as promised, he was keeping an eye on the salon.
An appointment at police headquarters with Zack Nelson had been set for later in the day. It would be Lucy’s second time being interviewed as the key witness who could identify Felipe Cruz as the man who’d run from Vivien’s room.
Standing curbside waiting for her ride, Lucy put on lipstick, looking into a silver compact mirror. Moving around like she was trying to get a view without the sun shining into the mirror, she turned and looked into the compact from several angles. Three stores down in a doorway was Picklehead. In an alley, a man was supposedly reading a newspaper, but he was standing next to several reeking trash cans, so he was watching her too. That was two people she caught keeping an eye on her, and she wondered if there were more.
Detective Nelson pulled up in an unmarked car. He opened the rear door. Before getting in, Lucy gave a wave to Mario a few buildings down, and he waved back. She caught Picklehead and the other guy observing her actions. It couldn’t have been planned better; now the thugs knew she had friends on the force.
During the drive to the station, Zack started with a few meaningless questions, obviously hoping to break the ice. The ride from the French Quarter didn’t take long, and they soon pulled into a parking garage under the police building. The garage was dark, and it took a second for her eyes to adjust. Police were everywhere, walking in and out of the building, cops putting shotguns in the trunks of their cruisers. It was a side of police activity few saw unless they were being arrested or, like Lucy, being questioned.
Apparently seeing Lucy’s eyes widen at all the activity, Zack said, “It’s shift change.”
“A little scary. I’ve never seen so many cops in one area,” she said, then quickly corrected herself. “Sorry. I mean police officers.”
Zack smiled. “That’s okay. We call ourselves cops, too.”
He escorted Lucy inside and left her in an interrogation room. The room was tiny, nothing but a table and two chairs. The entire building was old, and the place showed it hadn’t been cared for, like many city buildings. A coat of paint would have helped. Everything about the place revealed its age, from the cinderblock walls, the light cord dangling from the ceiling, and the furnishings screaming for a cleaning.
Zack came in with a bottle of Coke for Lucy. He was followed by another detective, who introduced himself as Johnny Guidry. They sat and talked, and for the most part, they were friendly. Except when she spoke of Felipe Cruz.
The mention of Felipe’s name tightened Zack’s face.
