Free Hallowed Bones by Carolyn Haines Page A

Interview Michael Anderson last. Maybe by then I'll have something for you."
    It was a brilliant offer, and one I snapped up. "You've got it," I said, wanting to hug Tinkie. More than televangelists, I hated math. But so did Tinkie. So why was she taking the grunt work and offering me the plum? I didn't intend to question this form of charity.
    The entrance to
New Orleans
, from the south or east, crosses
Lake Pontchartrain
. As we drove over the huge lake, Tinkie talked about the Black and Orange Ball. I learned that it had been created as a mockery/salute to the Truman Capote Black and White Ball. Only at the Black and
Orange
, the guests were required to wear masks that could not be removed until
midnight
under penalty of being deleted from the guest list--forever.
    Listening to Tinkie talk about past intrigues and romances that were Black and
Orange
legends, I felt a creeping excitement. Mollie had taken my measurements and assured me that my dress would rival anything there. I had ultimate faith in her. She'd have it ready in plenty of time, and it would be magnificent.
    "We'll have to go to Dillon's Dominoes and get masks. Something with feathers!" Tinkie said, ticking off her list on her fingers. "And shoes! There's a terrific shop uptown. Walking into that store is an erotic experience. The beautiful design of the shoes, the smell of new leather." She sighed.
    I was tempted to tease her that our visit to the jail would also be a visual and olfactory experience, but I didn't. Tinkie's pleasure was too pure to taint with an uglier whiff of reality.
    We swung over the city, viewing the
New Orleans
business district of high-rises in the distance. We exited the interstate and looped down onto Canal, one of the boundary streets of the old French Quarter. Parking is always at a premium in
New Orleans
, and fortunately the hotel garage offered both convenience and security. We still had plenty of time for a leisurely lunch after we were registered and had been shown to our individual luxury rooms.
    The saying is that there are no bad meals in
New Orleans
, and it's almost true. You have to hunt hard for bad food in
New Orleans
. We ate shrimp and oyster po'boys at a restaurant that had once been the site of slave auctions, then took a cab to the NOPD district that was handling the investigation of Rebekah's murder.
    Detective LeMont was at his desk, his dark eyes cool as he recognized me. I introduced Tinkie as my partner.
    "Arraignment is tomorrow morning," he said brusquely. "The DA is going to ask for a high bond."
    "Why?" I asked, going into battle mode.
    "She left town once. She has access to money." He leaned forward. "She's a nutcase. Her baby has been murdered, but it's okay, because 'death is just a transition.' She's just 'energy that will never be lost.' "
    Oh, great. Doreen had really pissed this guy off. Tinkie stepped into the challenge with the sweetest of smiles. "It does sound a little unbelievable," she said, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. She gave him a troubled look before the full, lush lip popped out. LeMont was mesmerized. "Doreen has to believe her baby is in a better place or else this would kill her. Maybe all of this talk is just a defense mechanism. But she isn't going to run away from this. Remember, she wasn't under arrest or even suspicion when she went to
Sunflower
County
. And she didn't resist when the sheriff picked her up. She's willing to cooperate, because if someone did kill her baby, she wants that person to pay."
    "There is no if. Rebekah Mallory was murdered." He stacked a pile of file folders, which slid back over as soon as he put them on his desk. "What can I do for you ladies?"
    "We need to speak with Doreen."
    "We're not running a hotel here. She's been with her lawyer all morning. Now the two of you are here. I should be her appointment secretary."
    Perhaps it was just in LeMont's nature to grouse. Some men were like that. I gave him a smile. "We can't do our