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“You just had to, didn’t you?” Nick said, shaking his head. “Now we’ll see if you’re smart enough to learn a lesson. I’ll give you that one for free, but you need to rethink your attitude here, Dozer. I guarantee you do not want me for an enemy.”
“I wouldn’t want you for a friend, either,” Dozer grumbled, heaving himself up off the floor. He staggered a step to the table, picked up an open can of Michelob, and drained it.
“Why are you drinking so much?” Nick asked. “Your crew boss says you’ve been a bit off these days. He’s keeping that from Donnie Bichon, you know. Giving you a chance to straighten up. Is something bothering you? You seem stressed. What’s that about?”
“Nothing,” Dozer said, scowling. It was clear he wanted to get physically away, but there was nowhere for him to go unless he retreated down the hall. Nick blocked his way out of the kitchen, and now he at least knew enough not to test that boundary again.
“Have you gotten yourself into something you can’t get out of?”
“No.”
“Are you and Marc mixed up in something?”
“No! Like what?”
“Here’s the thing, Dozer: I’m looking for Marc Mercier, who runs a salvage business that for sure deals in copper. You work for Donnie Bichon, who tells me he’s getting materials ripped off on a regular basis. And I’m looking for Robbie Fontenot, who told a cop he might have a line on some copper thieves. And as it happens, y’all know each other. And that all smells about as good to me as this house trailer.”
“If you don’t like it here, leave.”
“Are you stealing from Donnie?”
“No!”
“And then there’s Marc driving around in his fancy new Ford Raptor, pulling a boat I couldn’t afford,” Nick went on. “Is Marc dealing in stolen copper?”
“How would I know? I don’t work for him. Ask Luc. If anybody’s up to something, it’d be him. Marc’s a straight shooter. Everybody knows that.”
“Well, everybody says it, at least,” Nick said. “What about Robbie Fontenot?”
“I told you, I haven’t seen him.”
“I know what you told me, Dozer. That don’t mean I believe you.”
“Nothing I can do about that.”
“No, but you should know that my detectives are even now looking at surveillance video from downtown from Monster Bash. They will look at every store video, every bar video, every Ring doorbell video, every cell phone video taken by a citizen. And if they find even ten seconds of video with you, Marc, and Robbie together, you will have some serious explaining to do.”
“We wouldn’t hang out with him,” Dozer said. “We ain’t been friends in years.”
“Because you ruined his life?” Nick asked bluntly.
Dozer looked at the floor. “That was an accident.”
“Doesn’t really matter, does it? Damage is damage. Does he hold a grudge?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Dozer said. “Can you leave now? I need to use the bathroom.”
“I’m not done. You told me you went out with Marc Saturday night,” Nick said. “Where’d you go?”
“I don’t remember.”
Nick took a big deep breath and huffed an impatient sigh. “Mr. Cormier, my people will go to every fucking rathole bar in this parish until they find out where you were Saturday night. But the more work you make us do, the less friendly I get. Now, did you go to Outlaw Saturday night with Marc?”
“No. I don’t dance.”
“How embarrassing,” Nick remarked. “A Cajun boy who can’t dance. How’d that happen?” He shook his head at the shame of it. “Did you talk to Marc after he’d been there?”
“I don’t remember.”
