The Little Death Read Free Page B

insisted he was ready to go out on his own and I knew he wasn’t ready. This town will eat you alive, and I didn’t want that to happen to him.”
    Mel was silent. Louis waited, watching the two men, wondering what the history was between them. Mel hadn’t told him much about Reggie Kent, just that he had known him back in Miami. He wondered how the hell Mel had ever hooked up with a piss-elegant guy like this.
    Reggie leaned forward. “You’ve got to help me, Mel. Please. I don’t have anyone else to turn to.”
    Louis was afraid the guy was going to cry.
    “They’ve hung me out to dry,” Reggie said. “Even the police are against me.”
    “They’re cops, Reggie, they’re supposed to be,” Mel said.
    Reggie shook his head vigorously. “No, you don’t understand. The police are here to protect us. When that horrible detective from West Palm Beach came here to question me, Lieutenant Swann came with him. They are my friends.”
    He picked up the pack of Gauloises, but when he pulled out a cigarette, his hand was shaking so badly he dropped it. Mel caught it before it rolled off the table. Mel looked at Louis, then back at Reggie. “So what do you want us to do?”
    “Find out who killed Mark,” Reggie said.
    “Just like that?” Mel said.
    “I told you, Mel, I have money. I can pay you. And your friend of course.”
    Louis was quiet. There was something about this guy he didn’t like. His desperation was genuine enough, but something was slightly off. He was sure the guy was lying about something. Or, at the very least, leaving something out of the story.
    “Please, Mel,” Reggie said.
    Mel held out the cigarette to Reggie. “Look, let us go have a little chat with your Lieutenant Swann and we’ll get back to you.”
    Reggie looked to Louis, who nodded.
    Reggie took the cigarette and grasped Mel’s hand. “Thank you, thank you.”
    “Easy,” Mel said.
    Reggie nodded and sat back in the chair, running a hand across his sweaty face. His wide eyes were darting over the crowded room now. He waved at someone and tried a smile but it faded quickly and he dropped his hand.
    “I think I better go home,” he said softly. “There’s a nicely chilled bottle of Veuve Clicquot in my fridge. I think I shall go home and get shit-faced drunk.”
    He picked up his cigarettes, rose, and held out his hand. Mel shook it. Reggie turned to Louis. “Forgive my manners. I’ve forgotten your name.”
    “Louis Kincaid.”
    Reggie smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Kincaid.”
    Louis gave him a nod. Reggie took one last long look around the dining room and walked unsteadily back through the bar and was gone.
    Louis turned to Mel, who smiled.
    “Welcome to Bizarro World,” Mel said.

Chapter Three
 
    It was nearly two-thirty by the time they left Ta-boo. Louis had called Lieutenant Swann, who said that if they came right over, he’d have some time to talk to them. The Palm Beach police station was only a couple of blocks away, so they walked. The curbs were bumper-to-bumper with luxury cars, the sidewalks a mix of locals and tourists. It was easy to tell them apart. The locals were whippet-lean in sherbet-colored slacks and sheaths. The tourists trudged along in Nikes and fanny packs, Nikon necklaces hanging from their necks, ice-cream cones dripping on their hands.
    A tall woman was coming toward them. Louis’s first thought was of a banana. She was thin, dressed in a yellow pantsuit, with sunglasses the size of grapefruits. She was dragging a spidery black dog that was determined to stop at a ceramic trough labeled dog bar.
    Mel didn’t see the dog, and as the woman pulled at the leash, it cut across his shins. Mel groped for balance, and Louis grabbed his hand.
    “What the fuck?”
    “Stop it, Phoebe!”
    “Louis, help me out here, or I’m going to drop-kick the dog into the gutter,” Mel said.
    “You’re hurting Phoebe!” the woman yelled.
    Louis managed to free Mel, and with a tinkle of gold bangles the woman