like small lobsters. He sank back down reluctantly, shooting the amused cop a wary smile. “What do I do with them? Use them as bait to catch something that looks more appetizing?”
Patiently, Babineau picked up one of the shellfish, holding it between thumbs and forefingers on either end. “You twist and snap the head away from the tail.” After he did so, he brought the head to his lips and slurped noisily.
Fearing he might have to use the kettle for a different purpose, Cale murmured faintly, “I did not just see that.”
Tossing the top half in the pot, Alain exclaimed, “That’s the best part, but you, being a tenderfoot, should probably stick to the tail.
Good idea, Cale thought, his stomach giving a queasy roll.
“Now, you just peel the shell from the tail the way you would on a shrimp and tug out the meat.” He demonstrated and extended the small piece across the table. Cale took a cautious bite, surprised by the sweet flavor exploding in his mouth.
“Seems like a lot of work for such a small reward.”
Babineau laughed. “That, my friend, is the Louisiana lifestyle. It’s not about the work. It’s about enjoying the time it takes to have good conversation.” He dismembered a few more of the little creatures then asked, “So, what did you want to talk about?”
Cale set about a steady rhythm of pinch, snap, twist, and pull while getting to the point of the invitation. “I met your friend Commissioner Brady last night.”
Babineau went still, eyes going deadly. “He’s no friend.”
“I’m pretty damned sure he’s not going to be mine, either. You never said why you want to pin him to the wall so bad.”
“No, I didn’t. Does it matter to you?”
Cale considered the terse question. “Not really.”
“Then spill.” He gestured for the waitress and ordered a beer, Cale declining since he had to return to work. Listening to a recap of what had happened on the rooftop, Alain grew pensive. “Does MacCreedy know about my interest in the Commissioner? Or what we talked about?”
“You asked me to keep it to myself. Not my business. At the moment.” He noted his companion’s tension and contrarily asked, “What’s the story?”
“Men like Carmen Blutafino, Jimmy Legere, and even Savoie, you know right up front who and what they are. Bad guys, law breakers, and they don’t give a damn if you know it. But Warren Brady, probably the worst of the lot, he hides what he is behind an office of decency and law while perverting both every way he can. I’d dislike him on principle.”
“But you have personal reasons, too.”
A brief nod. “Involving people I thought of as family who didn’t deserve what they got.”
That was enough to satisfy Cale, for the moment. “MacCreedy could be a lot more help to you than I am.”
“He also has those annoying principles that keep him from following through the way I hope to.”
Babineau meant to kill him, not to convict him.
“And you don’t think I have a conscience?” That bothered Cale more than he wanted to admit.
“Not when it comes to family. That’s why I’m willing to trust mine to you. If you still want the responsibility.”
No hesitation. “I do.” Then, he asked plainly, “Are you sure you want to let them go?”
“Yes.”
Said with enough steel to convince and sadden him at the same time. “Are they going to want to go?”
“They will.”
*
Returning to the docks, Cale pondered over that grim assurance. Too busy in his formative years worrying about his own skin to consider how others chose to wear theirs, his initial instinct was to mind his own business and ask no questions, but his fondness for the Babineau family made that difficult. Where was the line a man didn’t cross when it came to what another did with his own?
Tina was his half-sister, Oscar his nephew, but they were as new in his life as the tattoo on his arm. He had no right to influence them or interfere with what their husband and father
Patiently, Babineau picked up one of the shellfish, holding it between thumbs and forefingers on either end. “You twist and snap the head away from the tail.” After he did so, he brought the head to his lips and slurped noisily.
Fearing he might have to use the kettle for a different purpose, Cale murmured faintly, “I did not just see that.”
Tossing the top half in the pot, Alain exclaimed, “That’s the best part, but you, being a tenderfoot, should probably stick to the tail.
Good idea, Cale thought, his stomach giving a queasy roll.
“Now, you just peel the shell from the tail the way you would on a shrimp and tug out the meat.” He demonstrated and extended the small piece across the table. Cale took a cautious bite, surprised by the sweet flavor exploding in his mouth.
“Seems like a lot of work for such a small reward.”
Babineau laughed. “That, my friend, is the Louisiana lifestyle. It’s not about the work. It’s about enjoying the time it takes to have good conversation.” He dismembered a few more of the little creatures then asked, “So, what did you want to talk about?”
Cale set about a steady rhythm of pinch, snap, twist, and pull while getting to the point of the invitation. “I met your friend Commissioner Brady last night.”
Babineau went still, eyes going deadly. “He’s no friend.”
“I’m pretty damned sure he’s not going to be mine, either. You never said why you want to pin him to the wall so bad.”
“No, I didn’t. Does it matter to you?”
Cale considered the terse question. “Not really.”
“Then spill.” He gestured for the waitress and ordered a beer, Cale declining since he had to return to work. Listening to a recap of what had happened on the rooftop, Alain grew pensive. “Does MacCreedy know about my interest in the Commissioner? Or what we talked about?”
“You asked me to keep it to myself. Not my business. At the moment.” He noted his companion’s tension and contrarily asked, “What’s the story?”
“Men like Carmen Blutafino, Jimmy Legere, and even Savoie, you know right up front who and what they are. Bad guys, law breakers, and they don’t give a damn if you know it. But Warren Brady, probably the worst of the lot, he hides what he is behind an office of decency and law while perverting both every way he can. I’d dislike him on principle.”
“But you have personal reasons, too.”
A brief nod. “Involving people I thought of as family who didn’t deserve what they got.”
That was enough to satisfy Cale, for the moment. “MacCreedy could be a lot more help to you than I am.”
“He also has those annoying principles that keep him from following through the way I hope to.”
Babineau meant to kill him, not to convict him.
“And you don’t think I have a conscience?” That bothered Cale more than he wanted to admit.
“Not when it comes to family. That’s why I’m willing to trust mine to you. If you still want the responsibility.”
No hesitation. “I do.” Then, he asked plainly, “Are you sure you want to let them go?”
“Yes.”
Said with enough steel to convince and sadden him at the same time. “Are they going to want to go?”
“They will.”
*
Returning to the docks, Cale pondered over that grim assurance. Too busy in his formative years worrying about his own skin to consider how others chose to wear theirs, his initial instinct was to mind his own business and ask no questions, but his fondness for the Babineau family made that difficult. Where was the line a man didn’t cross when it came to what another did with his own?
Tina was his half-sister, Oscar his nephew, but they were as new in his life as the tattoo on his arm. He had no right to influence them or interfere with what their husband and father
Similar Books
