Read Online Where The Devil Won't Go: A Lucas Peyroux Novel by E.J. Findorff - Free Book Online
Authors: E.J. Findorff
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into Metairie until passing over the
beautiful Metairie Cemetery and the New Orleans skyline came into view. We
switched cars at Headquarters in order to drop Tara off, and Cozy followed me into
the French Quarter.
Cozy and I arrived at Haley’s apartment
located three blocks off the infamous Bourbon Street. I let Cozy dial in Haley’s
four-digit code to enter the confines of the gated courtyard, inundated with
plants and uneven bricked walkways. I lugged Cozy’s empty suitcase up a rickety
wooden staircase that hugged a brick wall with bad tuck-pointing. The short,
damp hallway leading to her door smelled of mildew.
“Here it is,” I said.
Cozy’s hands trembled as she inhaled. She
nodded to indicate she was ready, and we entered a room that appeared meager
and abandoned. Worn, outdated furniture depressed the ambiance, but no personal
touches made it feel like someone’s home. Her rigid body remained still like a
statue just two feet inside the doorway. I put my arm around her shoulders to gently
guide her further inside.
“There’s still a chance she’s alive,
right? She wasn’t killed here, right?” Her voice was thin as a worn thread.
“This isn’t a crime scene, but you have
to prepare yourself when the results come in. All the evidence points to Haley.”
“I know.” She wiped hard at her face as
if mad. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Just look around.”
“I guess you’ve already been through her
stuff,” she said.
“Yes, but it was messy like this when we
arrived. We took her hairbrush to compare DNA. There’s also a storage area on
the first floor, but all she has in there is a really old computer monitor, a
vacuum cleaner and a few other items. Nothing of real value.”
“I’m surprised she has a vacuum cleaner.
She was always a slob.” She gave a shaky laugh, touching a lampshade.
“We didn’t find anything we needed to
take as evidence.”
“I wish I could tell you something. Being
apart for two years kind of dulls the memories.”
“Take your time.”
Cozy crossed the floor as if it hid
landmines. “Except for her clothes, I can’t spot anything that says Haley. It
might as well be a stranger’s apartment.” She floated about, randomly touching
things. “She must have been so lonely. So, if she’s not dead, she’s at least
missing.”
“I’m sorry you had to see those
pictures.”
“I’ve seen what water can do to dead
animals.”
“I guess you have.” We stood for a moment
in an awkward pause. “And then with your father. I’m so sorry about all that. Child
abuse is the one thing that gets a cop right down here in the gut.” I touched
my stomach, feeling it churn inside me.
Her expression never changed. “The last
time I saw my father alive, he had grabbed his belt and went after Haley. I grabbed
the shotgun. The very last time I saw him alive, he was bleeding to death. Long before that day. Long before I pulled the trigger, I
imagined doing it.”
“You planned it?”
Her eyes snapped to mine. “Of course,
not.” She turned and wiped her hand under her nose. “What makes me sad is what
Haley was thinking in her final moments. How scared she must have felt. I wonder
if she thought of momma and me.”
“I’m sure she did.” I took a seat on the
arm of the sofa.
“I’m glad it was you who told us about
Haley. I could tell you were uncomfortable. You’ve been sweet.”
“Not a word that usually describes the
NOPD.”
“I guess if you hadn’t found Haley, I’d
still be chasing you down, huh.”
Cozy slid between my legs and wrapped her
arms around me into a deep hug that lasted longer than normal. Her body heaved
and bucked as the side of her head snuggled into my neck. Every noise possible
escaped her nose and mouth. I gave her minute, then I stood and my hands found
her elbows as I stepped away.
She wiped her face with her shirt and
cleared her throat. “I guess you have to go. Go on, then. You don’t have to
hang
beautiful Metairie Cemetery and the New Orleans skyline came into view. We
switched cars at Headquarters in order to drop Tara off, and Cozy followed me into
the French Quarter.
Cozy and I arrived at Haley’s apartment
located three blocks off the infamous Bourbon Street. I let Cozy dial in Haley’s
four-digit code to enter the confines of the gated courtyard, inundated with
plants and uneven bricked walkways. I lugged Cozy’s empty suitcase up a rickety
wooden staircase that hugged a brick wall with bad tuck-pointing. The short,
damp hallway leading to her door smelled of mildew.
“Here it is,” I said.
Cozy’s hands trembled as she inhaled. She
nodded to indicate she was ready, and we entered a room that appeared meager
and abandoned. Worn, outdated furniture depressed the ambiance, but no personal
touches made it feel like someone’s home. Her rigid body remained still like a
statue just two feet inside the doorway. I put my arm around her shoulders to gently
guide her further inside.
“There’s still a chance she’s alive,
right? She wasn’t killed here, right?” Her voice was thin as a worn thread.
“This isn’t a crime scene, but you have
to prepare yourself when the results come in. All the evidence points to Haley.”
“I know.” She wiped hard at her face as
if mad. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Just look around.”
“I guess you’ve already been through her
stuff,” she said.
“Yes, but it was messy like this when we
arrived. We took her hairbrush to compare DNA. There’s also a storage area on
the first floor, but all she has in there is a really old computer monitor, a
vacuum cleaner and a few other items. Nothing of real value.”
“I’m surprised she has a vacuum cleaner.
She was always a slob.” She gave a shaky laugh, touching a lampshade.
“We didn’t find anything we needed to
take as evidence.”
“I wish I could tell you something. Being
apart for two years kind of dulls the memories.”
“Take your time.”
Cozy crossed the floor as if it hid
landmines. “Except for her clothes, I can’t spot anything that says Haley. It
might as well be a stranger’s apartment.” She floated about, randomly touching
things. “She must have been so lonely. So, if she’s not dead, she’s at least
missing.”
“I’m sorry you had to see those
pictures.”
“I’ve seen what water can do to dead
animals.”
“I guess you have.” We stood for a moment
in an awkward pause. “And then with your father. I’m so sorry about all that. Child
abuse is the one thing that gets a cop right down here in the gut.” I touched
my stomach, feeling it churn inside me.
Her expression never changed. “The last
time I saw my father alive, he had grabbed his belt and went after Haley. I grabbed
the shotgun. The very last time I saw him alive, he was bleeding to death. Long before that day. Long before I pulled the trigger, I
imagined doing it.”
“You planned it?”
Her eyes snapped to mine. “Of course,
not.” She turned and wiped her hand under her nose. “What makes me sad is what
Haley was thinking in her final moments. How scared she must have felt. I wonder
if she thought of momma and me.”
“I’m sure she did.” I took a seat on the
arm of the sofa.
“I’m glad it was you who told us about
Haley. I could tell you were uncomfortable. You’ve been sweet.”
“Not a word that usually describes the
NOPD.”
“I guess if you hadn’t found Haley, I’d
still be chasing you down, huh.”
Cozy slid between my legs and wrapped her
arms around me into a deep hug that lasted longer than normal. Her body heaved
and bucked as the side of her head snuggled into my neck. Every noise possible
escaped her nose and mouth. I gave her minute, then I stood and my hands found
her elbows as I stepped away.
She wiped her face with her shirt and
cleared her throat. “I guess you have to go. Go on, then. You don’t have to
hang
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