Mean Woman Blues

Pamela and Isaac managed to strike up a friendship when one of them didn’t even talk, but the truth was, Isaac’s sweetness was obvious from the next parish. He got to everybody.
    There were several district cars at the scene and one unmarked one, along with a couple of white crime lab vans. Some of the uniforms stared at her curiously, maybe recognizing her, maybe not; she didn’t see anyone she knew. She didn’t see Shellmire, thought he must be inside. She walked over and paused at the yellow tape already stretching around the scene.
    One of the uniforms swaggered over. “Ma’am, this area’s restricted.”
    She produced her badge. “I’m Detective Skip Langdon. Turner Shellmire inside?”
    The man looked confused. “Aren’t you… uh…?”
    He knew exactly who she was, but she didn’t help him out. What was she supposed to say?
Yeah, but I’m innocent
? “Tell Shellmire I’m next door, will you?”
    When she arrived in Pamela’s cheerful kitchen, Terri was sitting at a wooden table Pamela had painted yellow, sipping hot tea, a rare commodity in New Orleans this time of year. Pamela was hovering, her brow creased. “Skip, Terri wants to know if Isaac has enemies.”
    Skip sat down at the table and put a hand over Terri’s. “How long have y’all been going out?”
    “A couple of months. Why?”
    “And he never mentioned his father to you?”
    Terri shook her head, clearly dreading what was about to come. “What’s wrong? Is his dad in the mob or something?”
    “No, it’s not that. Have you ever heard of a man named Errol Jacomine?”
    “Errol Jacomine! The guy who ran for mayor and then tried to blow up that little girl and everything?
That’s Isaac’s father
?”
    Pamela muttered, “The good news is, they’re not close.”
    Terri let out a short bark of mirthless laughter.
    “You know about Lovelace?” Skip said. “That’s why she and Isaac are so close. Her father got involved with her grandfather’s crimes, which left Isaac and Lovelace pretty much the only family either of them has. They changed their names legally to ‘James’.”
    “I thought Isaac’s mother was a missionary.”
    “She is; she stays as far away from her ex-husband as she can.”
    Terri was clenching and unclenching her hands, trying to let out some of the tension. “Jacomine’s killed a lot of people, right?”
    Skip nodded.
    “So do you think he had some enemy or other who went after Isaac? Just because they’re related?”
    “Could be.” It wasn’t what she thought at all. “But here’s what you should know: By tomorrow, the media are going to have the story about Jacomine’s son being shot, and the cops are going to treat this like a very big deal; in other words, they probably won’t think it’s a random shooting…”
    Terri interrupted. “Why are you saying ‘they’? I thought you were a cop.”
    “It’s not my investigation.”
    Terri stared at her. Stared long enough to figure out this was a face she’d seen before and not just in a painting. “Oh! You’re the one, uh… you’re the Cemetery Angel.”
    Yes, but I was set up
! The words crowded to her lips, primed to shoot out like arrows. Skip pushed them back. She parted her lips in a tight, fake smile. “I’m afraid I’m persona non grata right now. But I still have contacts; I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
    “Isaac told me about you.”
    “He did?”
    “He didn’t tell me you were a cop. He just talked about the woman in the picture as his friend. You know what be said about you? He said you were the bravest person he’d ever met.”
    Pamela nodded. “He adores Skip.”
    Terri bit her lip. “Damn, I wished I’d called him last night!”
    Skip raised an eyebrow.
    “I was out of town. I went out with a girlfriend, and I forgot to call him. I only remembered in the airport, and my cell phone was dead.” She gulped, getting it all together. “I still could have called, but you know why I didn’t? Did you know a long-distance call from a pay phone costs five dollars now? At least that one did. I wanted to save five dollars! I didn’t call my boyfriend because of five crummy dollars.” She was fighting tears. “What if he dies? I mean, what if I missed my one last chance to talk to him?”
    Pamela came up behind Terri and put her hands on her shoulders. “He’s not dying, you hear me? Monkie’s tough.”
    Skip wasn’t in the mood for melodrama. She stood up. “I’m going to go try to find