“Going to see his
“How’d he die?”
“Same as Mama.”
Failed job. Lost family. Dead mother. Though far from unique, Poteat’s story depressed the hell out of me.
“Looks like I’m out on Lovette-Gamble for now. With the bangers on the warpath, the chief’s reined us all in.”
“I understand.”
“I’ll jump back aboard when things cool down.”
“Focus on your investigation. I have another lead.”
“Oh yeah?”
Moving farther from Galimore, I told Slidell about Fries.
“Where’d you get that?”
“Cotton Galimore.”
“What the fuck?” Slidell exploded.
“Galimore participated in the original investigation. I thought he might have useful information. Which he did.”
“What did I tell you about that asswipe?”
“He claims he was framed.”
“And Charlie Manson claimed he was just running a day camp.” It was exactly the reaction I’d expected. “I don’t plan to date him,” I snapped.
“Yeah, well. Word is Galimore wasn’t exactly humping back in ’ninety-eight.”
“What does that mean?”
“That investigation went bust. Why’s that, I ask myself. I come up with no explanation makes sense. So I float a few questions.”
“To whom?”
“Cops been around the block.”
“They suggested that Galimore obstructed the work of the task force?”
“They inferred as much.”
I ignored Slidell’s misuse of the verb. “Why would he do that?”
“I ain’t his confessor.”
“Did they cite examples?”
“All I’m saying. Galimore’s a reptile. You chum with him, I’m out.”
Dead air.
“I’m guessing that was Skinny.”
Furious with Slidell, I hadn’t heard Galimore approach.
Shifting my face into neutral, I turned.
“He’s pissed that you’re talking to me.”
I said nothing.
“And ordering you to be a good girl and send me on my way.”
“He was reporting that he’d be tied up for a while.”
“So we’re on our own.”
“What?”
“Just you and me, kid.” Galimore winked. Ineffective, given the unnecessary lenses.
I dropped my phone into my purse and glanced up at him. As before, my stomach performed a wee flip.
I looked away. Quickly.
Two cats were tearing at something in a patch of grass by one corner of the restaurant. One was brown, the other white. Both had sinewy shadows overlying their ribs.
“I know you’re curious about Fries,” Galimore said.
I was.
“And Bogan.” Cale’s father.
“You’re heading to talk to them now?” I asked, still looking at the cats.
