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“I’ve thought about that,” Nick said. “That could just as easily have been a price someone gave to Marc about something they wanted to sell to him as it was a price Marc offered someone else.”
“But if Parcelle killed Mercier, do you think he just went on to Houston?” Stokes asked. “Just going on with his life like nothing ever happened?”
“People do. All the time,” Nick said. “Murder is an anomaly. Some people would rather pretend it never happened than deal with the fact that they did something so terrible. Get rid of the body and go on with their lives. Hope nobody figures it out. After a while, they convince themselves it never happened, like it was just a bad dream.”
“I’d get the hell out of Dodge and never come back,” Stokes said. “I’m thinking I’d be long gone to Mexico.”
“He might have done that, too.”
“The place we found the body,” Stokes said, “that’s not but a few miles from the Parcelle place. On their way home from Luck. Still seems a careless place to dump a corpse.”
“It’s not a bad place to put a boat in the water,” Nick pointed out. “If you wanted to take that body out and dump it, you can get to the middle of nowhere pretty quick from there by boat. Does Cody Parcelle have a boat?”
“I don’t know. But we know Marc has a boat. Where’s that at?”
“That’s a good question. He went out with Dozer that night, and then he went on his own to Outlaw. He wasn’t dragging that boat around with him all night, was he? Who would do that? Is there video from the parking lot?”
“Not beyond the immediate vicinity of the front porch. The placeis made to look like one of those Old West saloons in the movies. It’s got that wide front porch with an overhang that fucks up the camera angle. Can’t see the comings and goings from the parking lot at all. Where was he at with this Dozer character?”
“Mr. Cormier is being coy about that, which makes me wonder why. There was an LSU football game Saturday night, so wherever those boys went, it’s safe to say there were big-screen TVs. I’ll start with sports bars tomorrow. I’m more interested in where he went after he left Outlaw.
“If that body is Marc Mercier, where did he get shot? Why was he only half dressed? He leaves Outlaw at eleven thirty. If we’re saying Cody Parcelle shot him, and Cody got home a little after two…that’s not that much time, really.”
“So he leaves Outlaw,” Stokes said, “goes to another lady, Cody shows up, BOOM!”
“And where is this other lady?” Nick asked, skeptical. “She sees her lover get his head blown off right in front of her, and she doesn’t call the cops?”
“Maybe she’s too scared to talk. Or maybe she’s dead, too.”
“Mais, c’est fou.” He shook his head, dismissing the idea. “That’s some kind of crazy Hollywood movie shit. I don’t buy it. You punch a guy in the mouth for flirting with your wife. You don’t blow his head off with a shotgun. You don’t track him down in the middle of the night and shoot him in the face. That can’t be it.”
Nick took another long drink of his coffee and sighed. “We don’t even know if this bodyisMarc Mercier.”
“When are we getting DNA results? They just gotta match the samples. How hard can it be?”
“With that lab in New Iberia? God knows,” Nick said, disgusted. “I got a text tonight that they lost the goddamn sample. Bunch ofcouillonsrunning that place.”
“Somebody there was smart enough not to contact you during business hours,” Stokes pointed out.
“If they think I’ll be less angry tomorrow, they are mistaken,”Nick said. “I hope Gus gets us out of that contract before he leaves office again.”
“If this bodyisn’tMarc Mercier,” Stokes said, “then where is he? Why would he just disappear? He’s running a business, big man around town, got a new baby. Why would he just up and leave?”
“He’s fighting with his brother about the business; his marriage is a shambles. Is that baby even his?” Nick asked, thinking about Will Faulkner bouncing little Madeline on his arm as he walked her around the living room, so easy and natural with her. “If Luc has them in the stolen copper business, they could be mixed up with some unsavory people. Maybe Marc wanted out. Robbie Fontenot claimed he had a line on some copper thieves. That’s our connection between them.
“I want a witness,” he declared. “I want somebody saw someone dumping that body. Have you talked to any of those potential poachers?”
Stokes gave him a look. “Like I’ve had time to go track down swamp rat thieves today.”
“Mr. Arceneaux gave you a list of names. Delegate. Sergeant Rodrigue would love nothing better than to track those miscreants down and haul them in here for questioning. Put it on him.”
“Mañana, man,” Stokes said, getting to his feet. “It’s late. I’m outta here.”
“I’ll call him,” Nick said. “He’ll be out there and have it done before you get out of bed in the morning.”
Stokes scowled.
“Don’t pout,” Nick said. “You had your chance. Now you can have your beauty sleep.”
