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“I don’t know. I told you,” Luc said. “I haven’t seen or heard from him since Saturday afternoon.”
“Where were you Saturday night?” Nick asked.
“I had some supper and watched the LSU game. Hit a couple bars after.”
“Which bars?”
“Club Cayenne. Things got a little fuzzy after that.”
“Were you there with anybody?”
“No. I don’t need company to watch naked girls dance.”
“Any girl in particular?” Nick asked.
“Their names aren’t exactly important to me.”
“Think hard. You might want one of them to remember you were there.”
Mercier shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t remember. I didn’t know I’d need an alibi.”
“And Marc wasn’t there?”
“Hell no. He’s too afraid of Melissa to go to a titty bar. You ought to be grilling her,” he said. “She probably killed him and ate him. She’s the last one seen him, ain’t she?”
“That we know of,” Nick said. “Do you know a guy named Robbie Fontenot?”
“Robbie Fontenot?” Luc said, pulling a face. “What about him?”
“You know him?”
“Not to speak of. Him and Marc played football together. Didn’t nobody pay money for me to go to Sacred Heart. All my friends are from low places.”
“Did Marc ever mention him recently?”
“Not to me. Why?”
“Robbie Fontenot happens to be missing, too.”
“What?” Luc laughed. “You think they run off together?”
“I don’t know,” Nick said flatly. “Might they have?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Luc blustered. “I don’t know nothing about Robbie Fontenot and which side of the plate he bats from, but Marc ain’t no fag. I’d’a beat that out of him a long time ago.”
“That’s not how that works,” Nick said.
“Whatever. Marc is not a homosexual. He’s got a new baby at home, for Christ’s sake!”
“What about Dozer Cormier?”
“What about him? He’s not a homosexual, either.”
“Do you know where I can find him?”
“He works construction for Donnie Bichon.”
“Dozer and Marc are tight?”
