Read Online Where The Devil Won't Go: A Lucas Peyroux Novel by E.J. Findorff - Free Book Online Page B

him in the gate.
    Footsteps echoed through the hall and she
cracked the door a bit to make sure it was the delivery guy. The money-pizza
exchange with the dumpy, middle-aged woman went quickly and she settled back on
the couch, taking a few bites out of a slice while checking her surroundings
again.
    The cracked plaster walls were void of
pictures or art, unless discolored patches that resembled images such as the
Shroud Of Turin could be considered art. Haley hadn’t settled in to make this a
home, yet. That was why she didn’t decorate or have personal touches around the
place. Cozy stretched and attempted to hold down the rest of her slice of
pizza. She didn’t want to live or have children or grow old without Haley. It
was an empty feeling to only have one thing to live for, to avenge her sister’s
death.
    What
the hell, Haley? What the hell ?
    A rapping on the door forced her head
jerk up. “Yo, Haley. You in there? I saw your light
on.” He sounded like the black men in rap songs. How’d he get in without
buzzing, unless he knew the code?
    Cozy put her eye to the peephole. Sure
enough, a short, skinny black guy with a Saints cap was on the other side. She
spoke through an eighth inch of seam. “Haley isn’t here. Who are you?”
    He looked confused. “Who you? Haley on
vacation or sumptin’?”
    “She’s not here.”
    He wiped at his lips and tried to look
through his side of the peephole. “Listen, here. Me and her
– we friends. I ain’t seen her in a while.”
    Cozy opened the door as far as the chain
would allow. “What’s your name?”
    The black man checked her up and down.
“You her friend?”
    “Her sister.”
    A gold tooth appeared in a smile. “You
don’t look much like her, but you got that same crazy-ass accent.”
    “Name?”
    “Titus.”
    Must be the guy Lucas had said came by a
few times. “You her drug daddy?”
    “Drug daddy?” He mused. “What, ‘cause I’m
black?”
    “I ain’t a racist, but I ain’t stupid,
either.” Cozy dipped her head. “Haley’s dead.”
    “Dead? Get the fuck. What happened?”
    “I’d rather not talk about it.”
    “Listen here. I ain’t her drug daddy. I get her shit. She pay with green.
That’s it.”
    Cozy zeroed in on the chains around his
neck. One of them was Haley’s alligator pendant. “Can I ask you a couple of
questions?”
    “You inviting me in?”
    Cozy hesitated, needing to make a quick
decision about her safety. But, why would he be looking for Haley if he had
killed her? “Awright. C’mon.” Cozy closed the door, and then swung it open
after the chain dropped.
    Titus instantly dipped his shoulder as he
strutted inside. “Shit, you got balls. A white girl inviting a nigga’ like me
in. I guess all you Cajun bitches crazy.”
    “You saying Haley was crazy?” Cozy noticed the butt of a gun sticking out of the back of his
waistband.
    “Nah, figger of speech. Serious shit,
Haley was awright with me.”
    Titus walked straight to the couch and
sat as if that was his normal spot. He threw his Adidas covered feet onto the
coffee table and watched as Cozy took a position on the armrest.
    “You fine, girl.”
    “You ever do anything else besides get
her drugs?”
    Titus seemed taken aback, as if no one
ever questioned him before. “We ever do it? Yeah, I got in it.”
    Her throat constricted. “Are you a pimp,
too?”
    He laughed. “Pimp? Yo, I guess I gots a
few girls. Haley wasn’t one of them, you hear me? Not that I didn’t try. She
was spoken for.”
    “Spoken for? Haley was a prostitute?”
    “She was no busted corner ho’ if that
makes you feel better. She too fine to get fucked up on the curb, you get me? I
set her up in the bigs. I gets me a finder’s fee when I bring in the phat
ho’s.” His attention turned to her chest. “Crackers with money got with your
sister by appointment, like some Uptown escort bitch.”
    “Yeah, Titus, that makes me feel better.”
    “I ain’t nothin’ if not