Michel. None of my business.”
“Sure you don’t want to talk about your lead? I might be able to help.”
“With all due respect, Commander, I’d rather check it out thoroughly before I say anything. I could be totally off target.”
“Good luck, then. Think I’ll get me some food too.”
Still pissed from the confrontation with Rickett, Lucier went to the bar and ordered the drinks. If Rickett had anything to do with killing the multiracial gangbanger, Lucier bet he enjoyed every minute. The man clearly harbored some serious issues. Serious enough to kill a gay man?
Chapter Nineteen
Who’s Afraid of Diana?
D iana watched Lucier balance four drinks on the way back to the table. She relieved him of two. “You looked like you were ready to explode talking to that guy. Who was he and what was he saying?”
Lucier lowered his voice. “Name’s Dave Rickett, and he was saying bigoted things you wouldn’t want to hear.”
“About Keys?”
Lucier nodded.
“About being gay or being black?”
“Gay, but I think he was being tactful because he was talking to me. Oh, and he doesn’t believe in psychics.”
Diana raised her brows. “Thinks I’m a fraud, huh?”
“Yup. Wonder if he’s aware Keys worked for you. After all, it wasn’t a secret.”
“You think he’s involved in the murders?”
“Don’t know. Right now I’m more interested in what happened to Chenault and Alba, and I bet he’s involved.”
“You think they’re dead, don’t you?” she whispered. A big cheer went up in the crowd. She could barely hear her own voice.
“What?”
She repeated her question.
“Is that a psychic observation?”
“No. You know I can’t read you. You’re off my radar.” She noted his skeptical expression. “You are. Really.”
Emile’s voice over the audio system broke their reciprocal stare. “Now, as promised, we’re honored to introduce Diana Racine, the world-famous psychic. She’s kindly offered to read a couple of our patrons. Come on up here, Diana.”
Sotto voce , she said, “Kindly, my foot.”
Applause and whistles rang out over the club.
“Here goes,” she said to Lucier.
“Be gentle with him.”
She winked. “Like that’s going to happen.”
On the way to the small stage, people begged her to call on them, but when Diana quieted the crowd, she said, “Since Emile snookered me up here, he should be my first read. What do y’all think?” A slight pink rose on Emile’s coffee-colored cheeks.
“No, no. Not me, Diana,” Emile said, backpedaling.
“Oh, come on. I won’t bite.” She waved him forward. “This was your idea, remember?”
The crowd went wild, and the regulars chanted, “Yeah, Emile. You first.”
Then the clapping began. A few people pushed Emile up onto the stage.
“You’re sneaky, Diana,” Emile whispered.
“No sneakier than you hoodwinking me into giving a few readings.”
“We’re a small club. Need all the help we can get. Pick someone else.” His sad puppy-dog eyes begged for release. “You’ve already seen too much of me,” he said in her ear.
“Not part of the reading,” she said. “Promise.”
“Enough secrets up there,” someone called out.
“Okay, okay,” Emile said. “I should’ve kept my big mouth shut, but I’m a good sport. Have at me, Miz Racine.”
“We need a table up here,” Diana said. “And a couple of chairs.”
A heavyset guy at a small table close to the stage lifted it up as if it were weightless, along with two chairs. He and his lady moved to the side of the room. Diana thanked him and said to Emile, “Have a seat, monsieur.”
A chuckle rose from the crowd.
“Oh, boy,” Emile said. “Caught in my own trap.”
“You asked for it, lover,” Miss Kitty called out. “Now all your secrets will be out in the open.”
Emile, still in his double-breasted suit but now with a lavender tie, parked himself in the chair. “She’d kill me, you know,” he mumbled.
“I figured.”
“Sure you don’t want to talk about your lead? I might be able to help.”
“With all due respect, Commander, I’d rather check it out thoroughly before I say anything. I could be totally off target.”
“Good luck, then. Think I’ll get me some food too.”
Still pissed from the confrontation with Rickett, Lucier went to the bar and ordered the drinks. If Rickett had anything to do with killing the multiracial gangbanger, Lucier bet he enjoyed every minute. The man clearly harbored some serious issues. Serious enough to kill a gay man?
Chapter Nineteen
Who’s Afraid of Diana?
D iana watched Lucier balance four drinks on the way back to the table. She relieved him of two. “You looked like you were ready to explode talking to that guy. Who was he and what was he saying?”
Lucier lowered his voice. “Name’s Dave Rickett, and he was saying bigoted things you wouldn’t want to hear.”
“About Keys?”
Lucier nodded.
“About being gay or being black?”
“Gay, but I think he was being tactful because he was talking to me. Oh, and he doesn’t believe in psychics.”
Diana raised her brows. “Thinks I’m a fraud, huh?”
“Yup. Wonder if he’s aware Keys worked for you. After all, it wasn’t a secret.”
“You think he’s involved in the murders?”
“Don’t know. Right now I’m more interested in what happened to Chenault and Alba, and I bet he’s involved.”
“You think they’re dead, don’t you?” she whispered. A big cheer went up in the crowd. She could barely hear her own voice.
“What?”
She repeated her question.
“Is that a psychic observation?”
“No. You know I can’t read you. You’re off my radar.” She noted his skeptical expression. “You are. Really.”
Emile’s voice over the audio system broke their reciprocal stare. “Now, as promised, we’re honored to introduce Diana Racine, the world-famous psychic. She’s kindly offered to read a couple of our patrons. Come on up here, Diana.”
Sotto voce , she said, “Kindly, my foot.”
Applause and whistles rang out over the club.
“Here goes,” she said to Lucier.
“Be gentle with him.”
She winked. “Like that’s going to happen.”
On the way to the small stage, people begged her to call on them, but when Diana quieted the crowd, she said, “Since Emile snookered me up here, he should be my first read. What do y’all think?” A slight pink rose on Emile’s coffee-colored cheeks.
“No, no. Not me, Diana,” Emile said, backpedaling.
“Oh, come on. I won’t bite.” She waved him forward. “This was your idea, remember?”
The crowd went wild, and the regulars chanted, “Yeah, Emile. You first.”
Then the clapping began. A few people pushed Emile up onto the stage.
“You’re sneaky, Diana,” Emile whispered.
“No sneakier than you hoodwinking me into giving a few readings.”
“We’re a small club. Need all the help we can get. Pick someone else.” His sad puppy-dog eyes begged for release. “You’ve already seen too much of me,” he said in her ear.
“Not part of the reading,” she said. “Promise.”
“Enough secrets up there,” someone called out.
“Okay, okay,” Emile said. “I should’ve kept my big mouth shut, but I’m a good sport. Have at me, Miz Racine.”
“We need a table up here,” Diana said. “And a couple of chairs.”
A heavyset guy at a small table close to the stage lifted it up as if it were weightless, along with two chairs. He and his lady moved to the side of the room. Diana thanked him and said to Emile, “Have a seat, monsieur.”
A chuckle rose from the crowd.
“Oh, boy,” Emile said. “Caught in my own trap.”
“You asked for it, lover,” Miss Kitty called out. “Now all your secrets will be out in the open.”
Emile, still in his double-breasted suit but now with a lavender tie, parked himself in the chair. “She’d kill me, you know,” he mumbled.
“I figured.”
Similar Books
