Harpy Gumbo by Winnie Winkle

Author:Winnie Winkle
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-73290-504-7
Publisher: J. S. Netwal

Chapter 13

Wellie glanced at the tan cement walls, chipped table and bile green chairs of the interrogation room. “Appears that Hollywood got this part right.”

“Under normal circumstances I begin this upstairs, Mr. Williams, but nothing that’s happened today fits that description, so here we are. Let’s start with your explanation for the events this morning. Who, and what, was that woman?”

“I didn’t see a woman, Detective.”

“Not the way to play this conversation, Mr. Williams. We wear body cams.”

“Then you know what you saw. Why involve me?”

“Who is she? What is her name?”

“Detective, I don’t understand who you mean.”

Riley shifted his weight. “Who lives in the upstairs bedroom of your house?”

“That’s not my house, Detective. I live in Magic, New Mexico. I’m just visiting.”

“We found your blood and hair in the upper balcony of the St. Louis Cathedral. How did that get there?”

“I visit the Cathedral often. The priests and I are well acquainted. I go up to the balcony to meditate and pray. I stumbled and hit my head once,” Wellie rubbed the scar, missing High John.

I’d feel better if High John was kicking the crap out of my chest.

“Who else was there?”

“Pigeons. The occasional hawk, and at night the bats leave the spires and feast on the maringouin, always appreciated. Solitude is the point, Detective. I do not visit a holy place to party. The entire city stands ready for that.”

“How do you account for this?” Riley slid the evidence bag containing Trini’s white scarf across the table.

“Are you assuming I am the only visitor to the balcony, Detective? I imagine the priests can give you a clearer picture of who climbs to seek solitude and guidance, far more than I.”

Riley rose, withdrawing the bag, and slipped through the door.

“Smart,” Harley muttered. “He’s lying, but not stupid.”

“He will not tell us who she is, Harley. You want to have a go?”

“Cameras off, Riley.”

Riley nodded and moved to the tech room.

“Kill the camera in room two.”

The tech flipped the switch and Riley nodded to Harley, who opened the door and joined Wellie, taking the seat opposite as his chair groaned.

“Big guy,” Wellie nodded. “Do you practice that entrance?”

Brown eyes met Harley’s with frank curiosity.

He’s not afraid of me, this situation, or what he’s facing. It’s obvious he finds it amusing. That takes balls.

While holding Wellie’s gaze, Harley let his mind open, the electricity popping. Wellie grinned.

“So it’s like dat, Detective? You have the sight and you walk the line?”

Harley leaned forward, crowding into Wellie’s space and held the stare, letting the flood waters wash, the snakes, the desperation clinging to life on his back, the stones in his pocket radiating, the mojo bag on his chest white hot.

“You are a warrior, Detective. While I can appreciate that, I cannot help you.”

“Why is that, Mr. Williams?”

“Rhodochrosite.”

The stone of love. Perfect. He’s gone for a bird.

“Enjoy your stay, Mr. Williams. I can keep you for twenty-four hours and I will.”

“It’s better for the world if you don’t, Detective.”

“Nobody’s that important, Mr. Williams. If you want to discuss the bird, tell the guards and they’ll find me.

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