CHAPTER NINE
Sunday came and went. For Deanna, she still had so much to do she could barely catch her breath. The girls had to be fitted for custom gowns and crowns that would be worn on the floats. Cases of beads, doubloons, and other fun things to throw needed to be picked up from another warehouse on the other side of town.
All of this, and she still had her regular everyday job.
“Hey, Deanna,” said Angel, walking into the warehouse with Bull. “We’re your nighttime guards.”
“Guys, I really appreciate this, but it seems silly. No one has bothered the warehouse since that night. I hate that you’re coming here every night when you could be at home.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Bull. “We get our exercise walking around and play a hand or two of cards.”
“You’re lying, Mr. Bull. Hey, that seems appropriate,” she grinned. He just smirked at her. “You guys don’t need exercise, but if you’re willing to do this, I’m grateful. Thank you.”
“Everything okay here? You look a bit stressed,” said Angel.
“I am. It’s this and work and, of course, what happened to Mama and Daddy.”
“Honey, why don’t you let us look into that for you? You know we won’t charge you. We’ve got connections, and the sheriff and police won’t ever know about it,” said Bull.
“Can I think about it?” she asked.
“You’ve been saying that since this happened,” said Angel. “It doesn’t seem right that no one saw anything or said anything. It was broad daylight.”
“I know. I was there,” she said, swallowing.
“I’m sorry, honey. I know you were there, but sometimes, we see things and forget. Maybe you should come and speak with Ashley or Rachelle?”
“Your mama said the same thing. I’ll think about it. Alright, I need to run. I’ve got to get to the bead warehouse to pick up some boxes before seven.”
“We could have done that for you. Stop being so stubborn, woman!” said Bull. She laughed, kissing his cheek.
“The king of stubborn should recognize it in someone else. See you guys tomorrow.” They watched her get into her car and drive away. They’d been careful to park around the corner in case someone was watching the warehouses.
“What do you think?” asked Angel.
“I think this is fucked up,” he frowned. “Her parents, the warehouse, all of it. It doesn’t feel as though it should be connected, but it is. I just know it.”
“Same, brother.” Angel looked around the warehouse and smiled. “They’ve made great progress. The floats are looking good.”
“I never understood parades until we moved here,” said Bull. “I always thought they were kind of silly. My folks used to make us go to the Fourth of July parade every year. The only thing I thought was cool were the military guys in their uniforms.”
“Figures,” laughed Angel.
“That first flotilla through the bayou was amazing. After that, I started to understand why this was so important to the people here. This isn’t an easy place to live. Critters and creatures, floods, and crazy-ass food. It’s a lot. But they’re so resilient. Think about all the floods that have happened just since we’ve been here.”
“A lot,” nodded Angel.
“A lot, and yet no one wants to leave. People just shrug their shoulders, rebuild, and hope for the best the next time a hurricane or flood comes. That should tell people something,” said Bull.
“Maybe we don’t advertise that. Too many people moving here would ruin the scenery,” smirked Angel.
They did their first walk-through, admiring the work done on the floats, and then took a seat near the office, bringing out the deck of cards. They weren’t betting money. They were betting extra miles that had to be run at PT over the next month.
Bull stared at the cards in his hand, then looked down at the table. Angel was lucky as shit at everything. Shot eleven times over the years and survived, plus the nasty knife down his face the night he saved Mary. He couldn’t afford to lose again.
“I fold,” he frowned.
Angel started to say something, then turned quickly, his hand on his weapon. He held a finger to his lips, and Bull nodded, hearing the same noise. Someone was trying to open the door of the warehouse.
Angel took one side of the door, his weapon drawn and ready. Bull gripped the lock, turned it slowly, then whipped the door open. Two men stood in shock, dropping the crowbars in their hands. One of them took off, and Angel took off after him, leaving Bull with the other.
“You move. You die.”
“We were just messing around,” said the young man. Bull gripped his black stocking cap, yanking it off the man’s head. He was probably mid- to late-twenties. “We thought we’d have some fun.”
“Fun? Vandalizing parade floats?”
“Yeah. Geez, mister, it’s just a damn float.”
“It’s someone’s private property. You destroyed these floats, and now they have to pay to rebuild them.”
“I-I didn’t destroy anything.”
“I’m supposed to believe you didn’t destroy these a few nights ago and were back to do the same tonight?”
“No! We weren’t here, I swear!”
“Sit your ass down,” said Bull. He zip-tied his hands to the chair, shoving him against the wall. Maybe, just maybe, a bit too hard as his head cracked against the wall.
“Ow! That hurt!”
“It’s supposed to, dumb ass. Who sent you?” The younger man said nothing. Then they heard the door open and someone spilling their guts to Angel.
“…then we said we’d just mess the floats up a bit and get out. We weren’t going to hurt anyone.”
“Yeah, yeah, dickhead,” frowned Angel, shoving him to the chair beside his buddy.
“What did you tell them?”
“All of it! Have you looked at them?”
“We won’t get paid,” he whispered.
“Paid by who?” asked Bull. Both men looked at him and shook their heads. “Boy, you better answer me, or I will rip your throat out.”
“We don’t know. That’s the truth. Some guy approached us while we were at the Bengal Casino and said he’d give us five hundred dollars if we’d just break into this warehouse and wreck the floats.”
“What did he look like?” asked Angel.
“I don’t remember,” said the young man, looking down. Bull gripped his shoulders, shoving them back against the chair, painfully stretching the muscles and tendons.
“Boy, you’d best start remembering, or I’m going to hit you so hard your memory will truly be impaired going forward.”
“I-I didn’t get a great look at him. He came up beside us and said not to look at him. He said to take the money, break into the warehouse, and tear apart the floats. He was about my height, older, maybe fifty or something.”
“Yeah, that’s pathetically old,” frowned Angel.
“He had on a nice suit.”
“A nice suit. Was there anyone with him?” Both men shook their heads and then looked out the window to see the police car. “Looks like your ride is here.”
“Please don’t have us arrested,” said the first man. “I’ve got a girlfriend and a kid.”
“Should have thought about that before,” said Bull. “If you suddenly get a powerful memory of something else, you let those nice policemen know, and we’ll come talk to you.”
“Bull. Angel, nice to see you, fellas,” grinned the officer.
“Nice to see you, Reliq. Still with the force, I see,” smirked Angel.
“That’s why they call me Reliq the relic. I guess my folks named me appropriately. We’ll book these two into the parish jail. If they’ve got priors, we’ll let you know. I don’t recognize them, but that doesn’t mean anything. All seems senseless to me. I mean, they’re damn parade floats, not new cars.”
“Thanks, man.”
Bull and Angel watched them leave and then stared at one another, turning to look at the floats.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Bull.
“Yep. There’s something here that someone wants.”
“Something or someone.”