House of Blues

didn't speak for a few minutes,
apparently making up her mind about something. She stared at a spot
on the wall, perhaps projecting on it her own private movie.
    She said, "I lied when I said I've never done
that. When my son died, the same thing happened." Tears flowed
freely down her aristocratic cheeks. "I started drinking and I
couldn't stop. It was like that for two weeks. And then—I did.
    "I'm not an alcoholic. I don't do this
periodically. I guess—"
    She stopped and stared again for a while, working it
out. "I guess I must do it when I just can't face something. I
thought Gustavo was dead. I thought I was alone in the world. I mean,
I see now that was what I was trying not to think. And you see, it
happened at the same time Sally came. I had all those same
feelings—of loss, of the most excruciating despair—that I had
when I lost my son, and yet, here was something filling me up again.
Here was this wonderful little girl I kept falling in love with a
little bit more every day.
    " I would never have hurt her. You have to
believe me. I thought it was the only way I could get to spend time
with her—to pretend like that. I just wanted to be with her."
    Skip thought of the way she had held Sally too tight,
the terrified look on the child's face, the way Sally had screamed
for her mother.
    We do such odd things in the name of love.
    Shellmire said, "Your son was Frankie
Garibaldi."
    Anna looked surprised. "Francis, yes. They
killed him."
    "But it didn't happen here—it happened in New
York."
    " They set him up."
    "Why?"
    " They sent him there. They could have sent
Johnny. Or Carlos or Martin. Any of them were more experienced. They
didn't have to send Francis."
    Shellmire spread his hands. "It sounds more like
they gave him a chance and he blew it."
    "The bastards set him up."
 
    28
    Skip had drunk coffee along with Anna, enough to get
her through a long night. She still had to talk to Reed, but that
could wait. Cappello had told her Abasolo was waiting for her call.
She got some peanut butter cookies from a machine in the basement and
ate them mechanically, not tasting, not wanting to, just needing
fuel.
    She got Abasolo's machine. "Oh, well, out at a
bar, I expect."
    It wasn't likely—Abasolo was a staunch member of
AA—so staunch that was his sometime nickname.
    He picked up. "Officer Langdon, I presume."
    " Thanks for waiting for me, Adam. I really
appreciate it."
    " I couldn't resist—it was so much fun the last
time we partnered up."
    "Some backup you were then." He had watched
her fight off a suspect who was also an unwelcome suitor.
    "I thought you wanted to handle it yourself"
She had, as a matter of fact. "Anyway, it gave me new respect
for tall, dangerous female officers. You have Delavon's address?"
    " Does the pope wear dresses?"
    " Okay. Get some
uniforms to meet us there. And pick me up in twenty. "
    * * *
    Abasolo lived in a small, neat house in mid-city,
newly painted, but spoiled by a cluttered porch.
    "What do you think?" he said. "I just
moved in. Still moving—guess you can tell."
    "Nice."
    He got in the car. "Gonna be nicer. I'm going to
dig up those awful azaleas and put in some roses, for one thing. Then
I'm gonna get some nice annuals, just for now, while I'm trying to
figure out what I really want."
    "I never figured you for a gardener, AA. You're
a man of hidden depths."
    "All of them murky."
    He was wearing the requisite dark clothes—jeans and
a black T-shirt. He seemed about as tightly wound as a guy on his way
to a Saints game.
    "Where are we going?"
    " Beautiful New Orleans East. Did Cappello tell
you the story? Here's the deal—Delavon's the gangster who sent me
out to the Iberville, where Jim got shot."
    "You think he set you up?"
    " Not really. He couldn't have known when I'd be
going there, and I don't think his guys would have made Jim—I think
he probably just got in the way. But Delavon made sure I knew about
this heroin dealer working out of the project. He must have got tired
of waiting for us to pop him and decided to take him out himself.
Anyway, I saw someone there that night, and the same dude beat up
O'Rourke while I was talking to Delavon a few days later."
    "He works for Delavon."
    "And he made a deal with us. Hence, tonight's
adventure."
    " So what do you think the setup is?"
    Skip shook her head, vaguely aware that she was
biting her lip as well. "I've got a real bad feeling about this
dude."
    " Like a premonition?"
    "I wish to hell I did get