The Emerald Lizard by Chris Wiltz

Author:Chris Wiltz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media Mystery & Thriller

16

Drawing Conclusions

So Larry wasn't very angry at all about Jackie's affairs. The fact that she slept with other men didn't seem to make him angry, jealous, or cause him to love her any less. Maybe Westwego was like a lot of small towns I've heard about where screwing is the favorite sport, the preferred leisure time activity because there's nothing much else to do.

Or maybe Larry was just screwy. I could buy that without much trouble. I believed that Jackie was afraid of Bubba because she believed he'd burned down the Lizard. I thought it was possible Bubba had killed Jackie or had her killed. But Larry didn't think so because he believed Bubba was in love with Jackie.

None of this made much sense if you tried to think about it logically. Look at it this way: If Jackie had never signed the paperwork on the loan, but she was afraid enough of Bubba to pay off the loan, then it didn't make sense for Bubba to kill Jackie. On the other side, though, was the possibility that the money itself meant very little to Bubba or that Bubba thought Larry was enough of a sap to pay him the money Jackie owed even if she was dead. Or he thought he could scare Larry into paying. Larry may have been given a death sentence, but he hadn't been given a date. Or the king of the trailer park didn't like Jackie making a sucker out of him and burned her place down, then killed her. What really didn't make any sense was trying to figure it out without more facts. Whether Bubba had killed Jackie or not, it seemed to me he was the logical person to begin with. So far everything had either started with or come back to Bubba.

I was ready to have another talk with the West Bank kingpin.

However, it was almost four-thirty, and no sane person gets on the Greater New Orleans Mississippi River Bridge going to the West Bank during rush hour. Especially not on Friday.

Maurice's office was over on Tulane Avenue not far from Central Lockup. In the old days, before Nita, he would almost certainly still be there.

The office was a single-story building that had once been a double. Maurice had knocked out a few walls, removed a kitchen, added a lot of bookshelves, desks, conference tables, and computers and turned it into his law office.

Through the front French doors I could see a light on in the outer office, but Pinkie wasn't behind the desk. Instead her chair was tucked neatly under it and its top cleared and straightened.

There was no point checking to see if his car was in the back; Maurice never drove to work. He never drove at all if he could help it, though he still had his father's 1969 faded blue, dented Mercedes garaged at home. He took cabs everywhere. The reason for this is because whenever Maurice got behind the wheel of the car, he

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