divorce was final.'
A convenient story to put off a man, Annie thought, though she couldn't dismiss the possibility it was true. It was common knowledge Donnie hadn't wanted the divorce. Lindsay Faulkner confessed to thinking Donnie had been the one harassing Pam. Rumors of a fight over Josie had been whispered around, though it seemed Donnie had no ground to stand on in that arena. He had been the cheat in the marriage. Pam had done nothing to threaten her standing as custodial parent.
'But then,' Renard murmured, staring down into his tea, 'maybe that was just an excuse. I think she was seeing someone for a short time.'
'Why would you think that?'
He couldn't answer her. The only way he would know was if he had watched her, followed her. He wouldn't admit to that, couldn't admit to it. The stalking was the basis for the whole case against him. If he admitted to stalking Pam Bichon, and if in that admission he revealed he had seen her with another man, that only added to his motive to kill her. Jealousy. She had spurned him for another.
Annie got up from the table. 'I've heard enough, thank you. Pam was tortured and murdered by her estranged husband, her secret lesbian partner, and/or a mystery lover you can't name or identify. Couldn't have been you that killed her. You're a victim of a malicious conspiracy. Never mind that you had motive, means, opportunity, and a crappy alibi. Never mind that the detectives found Pam's stolen ring in your house.'
Renard rose, too, and limped along beside her as she moved toward the door. 'There is more than one kind of obsession,' he said. 'Fourcade is obsessed with this case. He planted that ring. He's done that kind of thing before. He has a history.
'I have no history. I've never hurt anyone. I'd never been arrested before this.'
'Maybe that just means you're good at it,' Annie said.
'I didn't do it.'
'Why should I believe you? More to the point: Why are you so bent on convincing me? You're a free man. The DA's got nothing on you.'
'For now. How long before Fourcade or Stokes manufactures something else? I'm an innocent man. My reputation has been ruined. They won't be satisfied until they have my life one way or another. Someone has to find the truth, Annie, and so far, you're the only one looking.'
'I'm looking,' she said in a cool voice. 'I don't guarantee you're gonna like what I find.'
Marcus held the door for her and watched as she descended the stairs and walked out of the building. She moved in a way that seemed unselfconscious, fresh. Freer than Pam in her physicality, in her gestures. Pam's free-spirit soul sister. He found comfort in the thought. Continuity.
He had pinned his heart on Pam, but Annie would set him free. He was sure of it.
17
The Bayou Realty office was closed and locked when Annie went around to the front of the building. Too bad. She wanted to see the look on Lindsay Faulkner's face when she told her Marcus Renard had her pegged for a lesbian.
Of course, there was the chance that it was true. Annie knew little about her. No one had ever looked that closely at Faulkner, as far as Annie knew. There had been no reason. With the business set up as it was at the time of Pam's death, Faulkner had no financial motive to kill her, and no other motive would have been considered. Women didn't kill other women in the manner Pam Bichon had died.
Annie crossed the street to the Jeep and glanced up at the building as she turned the key in the ignition. Renard was standing at a second-story window, looking out at her.
He swore he was innocent, that he loved Pam. He wanted Annie to find the truth.
Find the truth or muddy the waters? she wondered. She had just stepped into the investigation and already there were factors to consider she hadn't seen before. Fourcade had been down these twisted trails already. His offer hung in her mind like a seductive promise, something she should resist. Turning away from Renard, she put the Jeep in gear and headed across town.
Donnie surveyed the scene from the seat of a backhoe, a bottle of Abita beer in hand. The Mardi Gras parade float taking shape before him was for Josie. She had talked him into it, those big brown eyes bright with excitement. Unable to deny her anything, he had organized a crew from the staff of Bichon Bayou Development and set them to work. He had envisioned Josie spending hours here with him as the flatbed became a crepe- paper, fairy-tale kingdom, but Belle Davidson had taken her to Lake Charles for the day 'to get away from the atmosphere' in Bayou Breaux.
'To get away from me, more like,' he muttered.
He tipped his bottle up only to find it empty. He scowled and tossed it down into the bucket of the backhoe, where it shattered against the remains of several other brown bottles. The sound pierced through the country music blaring from the radio. Several heads turned in his direction from the float, but no one said anything.
People had grown wary of his moods since Pam's death. They walked around him on eggshells, hedging their bets in case the cops were wrong about Marcus Renard, in case Donnie was the resurrection of the Bayou Strangler. He was sick of it. He wanted it all behind him. It should have been behind him.
'Goddamn cops,' he grumbled.
'Sounds like maybe I should come back.'
Annie had let herself in a side door of the big shed where the construction company stored some of its heavy equipment.
Donnie glared down at her from his throne. 'Do I know you?'
'Annie Broussard, sheriff's office.' This time she flashed the badge.
'Oh, Christ, now what? Did my check bounce? I don't care if it did. You can throw Fourcade back in the hoosegow, the ungrateful son of a bitch.'
'Why do you say that?'
He opened his mouth to complain, then swallowed it back. Fourcade was on suspension, off the case. No sense dredging up old suspicions with a new cop.
'The man is unstable, that's all,' he said as he climbed down from the backhoe. 'So, you're Fourcade's replacement. What happened to the other guy, that black guy- Stokes?'
'Nothing. He's still on the case.'
'Not that I care,' he said, bending to dig another bottle out of the old Coleman cooler that sat beside the backhoe's tire. 'You want my opinion: That guy is lazy. He was on the case when Renard started hassling Pam, and all he wanted to do was make time with her. Always looked to me like Fourcade was the brains of the pair. It's too damn bad he's off the case, except of course that he's nuts.'
He twisted the top off the bottle and tossed it into the backhoe bucket with the rest of the trash. 'Too damn bad he didn't get to close the case for good in that alley. You want a beer?'
'No, thanks.' Annie dipped her head a little, letting her bangs fall into her eyes, hoping recognition wouldn't dawn on Donnie as it had with Lindsay Faulkner.
'On duty?' He laughed. 'That never stopped any cop I ever knew-Gus Noblier included. What are you, new?'
'I need to ask you a couple questions.'
'I swear, that's all you people do-ask questions. You got more answers now than you know what to do with.'
'I spoke with Lindsay Faulkner this morning.'
His face twisted in distaste. 'Did she tell you I'm the Antichrist? The woman hates me. You would have thought she was Pam's big sister. They were that close. As close as women get without being lesbians.'
'She told me you're going to sell Pam's half of the business.'
'I've got my hands full with my own business. I have no desire to have Lindsay for a partner and she has no
