Boogie House: A Rolson McKane Mystery by T. Blake Braddy Page A

which was almost too hot but not quite. Some people take the skin off because it's healthier. I don't. I leave the skin on. I'm old-fashioned. I reuse oil, sometimes old bacon grease. I do use vegetable oil, but not olive oil. It changes the flavor. My Aunt Birdie would curse God Himself if she saw me using it to cook.
    For the sides, I cheated and cooked canned cream corn. I put it on the stove with pepper and quarter-stick of butter in it and let it simmer while I boiled and mashed the potatoes with the skins still on, stirring in spoonfuls of sour cream for flavor. Peel some potatoes and leave the skins on others, and don’t mash them too vigorously, or you’ll turn them soupy. Not good.
    I made a great big plate and took two beers and my cigarettes outside and ate on the tailgate of the F150. I thought it'd be good to enjoy an evening unspoiled by rain.
    After dinner, I scraped the leftovers off my plate out by the trees for the strays and put the rest in the fridge for later. I smoked a cigarette outside, wondering what to do next. If I wanted to get Brickmeyer hot, I had to do something public, something embarrassing to his family. I thought on it for a while but never actually came up with anything.
    Later, D.L. called me while I absently channel-surfed. I muted the TV and answered. "You that desperate down there at the station, calling me on your own time?"
    His laugh sounded like dried twigs in a wood chipper. "I don't have any of my own time, my boy. Didn't you ever learn that? I just have hours of theirs I don't spend at the office."
    "That's why you make the big bucks."
    "I reckon. Listen, Rolson, about that license plate you gave me."
    My heart dipped in my chest. He sounded dour. "Find out who it belongs to?"
    He sighed. "We did. Dead end, partner. It's stolen."
    "Stolen?"
    "Took the tag off some old abandoned wreck, hadn't been registered to anybody in years. Make and the model are immaterial, as you probably already figured. Down here, diesel trucks are as common as camo. We got fifty or sixty just like it, right down the color, from here to Dublin."
    "Damnit."
    "That's right. I know you’re probably not going to listen to me, but whatever you do, don't piss anybody off. You made the find. They probably just wanted to make sure you weren't going to be any trouble."
    "What's that supposed to mean?"
    "Somebody saw Laveau out at your house today. That have to do with the one thing, or the other?"
    "You got eyes everywhere, don't you, Chief? Lot of reach for such a small department."
    "Somebody made a pass by your house." He laughed again briefly, a dry cackle. "And you won't be doing shit with this investigation, Rolson. I hear of you sticking your fingers in the pie, I'll cut 'em off. You hear me? You got bigger things, personal things, to be worrying about. Worry about those. This dead Laveau guy doesn't have anything to do with you."
    "You're right. I'll back off," I said. I made it sound convincing.
    "Damn better. No disrespect to Mrs. Laveau, but it looks to me like she's using your, uh, situation to call in a favor. She wants you playing vigilante because she knows you feel like you owe her."
    "So."
    "So if by the grace of God you're able to track down the killer before we do, what do you think she's going to have you do? Call us? Turn him into the police so he can stand trial?"
    There was a pause on the line. I couldn't think of anything to say. "Don't kid yourself, Rol. She's playing you, big time, and it's not going to end well. Either she wants you to kill the punk for revenge's sake, or she wants you take some kind of fall. I've seen it happen before. Don't let yourself get sucked into something you can't get out of. I'd hate for that to happen to you, dumb-ass or not. Okay?"
    D.L. hung up. I placed my phone on the edge of my knee and twirled it mindlessly, watching the way it spun around. If Janita Laveau was lying, she had a pretty convincing scam going.
    "I guess we'll see, " I said to nothing and