Big Easy Bonanza

oil. Why hadn’t she known he meant that? Could it be that this guy really liked her? Or did he want to use her somehow? How, she wasn’t sure, but he was a filmmaker and that was a second cousin to a journalist. Maybe he needed a good source in the police department.
So?
said the other side of her psyche, the part that wanted desperately to connect with someone so intelligent and, apparently, sensitive.
    So what if he’s interested in cop behavior? Don’t animal researchers get close to the dolphins? Make friends with the gorillas?
    On impulse she said, “Can I trust you, Steve?” It came out almost a whine, certainly a plea.
    He wore that same benign expression. Was it real? “Of course.”
    “I’m detailed to homicide this week—to the St. Amant case.”
    Uh-oh. Now his expression was avid. There was no mistaking it. But at least he didn’t try to hide it. “God!” he blurted. “I envy you.”
    “You envy me?”
    “Yeah. I was a journalism major—and then a reporter for a while on a paper in Orange County. And now you know what I am. People like me are all frustrated cops—or private eyes, or FBI agents. We want to be where the action is, but we don’t have the nerve to really do it. So we get our thrills vicariously.”
    She felt better. Now that had the ring of truth. “Well, listen. I guess you’ll understand this. I’m assigned to work with two older policemen, two really experienced guys who’ve worked a million homicide cases and know what they’re doing. Now technically, since I’m assigned to the case, it was perfectly okay for me to want to get the inside track on the film—”
    The corners of Steve’s mouth turned up. “And maybe solve the murder single-handedly?”
    “Don’t make fun. But, yes, there was hotdogging involved, okay? Not, dammit, that those guys wouldn’t do it to me. Either one of them is capable of exactly the same thing, but, see, they’re older and more experienced and supposedly wiser, so if they did, and the film got stolen, it wouldn’t look so bad. And who’d chew them out about it? Me? Fat chance. A rookie respects her elders.
    “However, it wasn’t them that did it, it was me. And one of these guys is really on my case. I don’t know why, and I don’t know if he’s really fronting for the other one as well, but he’s giving me a bad time—”
    “And you want me to forget about making a complaint so there’ll be no record of what you did.”
    She did, it was true. But put baldly like that, it scared her. She wondered if she was turning pale.
    “Hey, relax,” said Steve. “Listen, no problem. I was just worried that the cops on the case wouldn’t know about the film and therefore wouldn’t know to look for it—it turns out you’re assigned to it, and you can look for it, okay? God! Don’t get so excited. I trust you a lot more than I do those other jerk-offs.”
    Skip felt a sudden rare twinge of cop loyalty—the us-against-them feeling—at his wholesale dismissal of her brother officers as jerk-offs. But for the moment she ignored it. She said, “Thanks, Steve. I really appreciate it.”
    He looked wistful. “If I can help you at all—”
    “How long are you going to be in town?”
    “Another week or so, I think. Maybe longer if I can borrow some money. Like I said, this whole thing has really turned me around. I’ve got to rethink this project. I was just here to get Mardi Gras material—the bulk of the film will be shot in L. A.—but now I really want to do a rewrite while I’m here. I want to do a whole different kind of movie.”
    “Have you decided how you’ll change it?”
    “That’s the trouble. I really haven’t. I just know it has to be more honest, that’s all. I think maybe the woman didn’t come to New Orleans—maybe she was here all along.”
    Skip looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go. Good luck with all that.” She offered her hand, but Steve wouldn’t shake. He took the hand in both of his.
    “Wait a minute. I’d like to see you again.”
    What for? So I can stand in as a dolphin or gorilla for you? I don’t have time for that now.
    “I’ve got a lot of work to do.”
    “I know. But you have to eat, don’t you? Let’s have dinner tomorrow.”
    She shook her head. “I don’t think I can make it. Listen, why don’t I call you. You’ll be at Cookie’s, right?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    She left him looking slightly hurt, as if she’d brushed him off. And she might have. She honestly