Free The Whispering Room by Amanda Stevens Page A

Just as soon as I find some answers.”
    â€œAnd if you don’t find the kind of answers you want?” His worry for her seemed to settle in all the deep grooves and crevices of his careworn face. “You think Johnny would want you obsessing about his death like this?”
    Evangeline didn’t answer.
    â€œHell, no, he wouldn’t. He’d want you to get right back out there and build a life without him.”
    She drew a breath and said quietly, “If the situation were reversed, he’d be doing the same thing I am.”
    â€œYou sure about that? The Johnny Theroux I knew would make sure his kid was his main priority.”
    â€œYou think I’m neglecting J.D.?” Her voice sounded more hurt than she wanted it to.
    â€œI never said that. But one of these days, that boy is going to need a daddy, Evie.”
    She stared at him in outrage. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
    His shrug was anything but apologetic. “Call me old-fashioned, but I happen to think a boy needs a male role model. And no offense, but you’re not—”
    â€œNot what?” she demanded. “Getting any younger?”
    He grinned. “I was going to say, you’re not taking care of yourself. Look at you. You’re as skinny as a fence rail.”
    â€œSo? I’m also as healthy as a horse.”
    â€œPhysically, maybe,” he muttered.
    â€œI heard that.”
    His grin broadened. “It’d do you good to get out more. Have some fun, is all I’m sayin’.” His tone turned sly. “A blind man could see that Tony Vincent’s got a thing for you. Would it kill you to throw the man a bone? Maybe have dinner with him or something?”
    â€œWhat are you, his pimp?”
    Mitchell chuckled. “You could do a lot worse.”
    â€œI don’t even know why I’m having this conversation with you. It’s ridiculous. We should be talking to Sonny Betts right now.”
    â€œThat’s going to be tricky. The feds consider him their territory.”
    Evangeline shrugged. “He’s a person of interest in a homicide investigation. He’s our territory now.”
    â€œOkay, but if we’re taking a ride out there today, I need some fortification first. How about lunch? I’m in the mood for catfish. Let’s go to Dessie’s.”
    Mitchell let her out in front of the restaurant while he drove around the block to find a parking place.
    As Evangeline stood in the shade of the colonnade, she spotted a dark gray sedan in the traffic on Decatur. She wondered for a moment if it was the same gray car they’d seen at the crime scene that morning, if they were being tailed by the feds.
    But when Mitchell came whistling around the corner, she decided not to mention it to him. He’d probably think she was starting to obsess about that, too.
    â€œHey,” he said. “Give me a day or two and I’ll see if I can find out where Nathan is staying. The old lady’s pretty tight with his sister.”
    Evangeline smiled gratefully, her previous irritation evaporating. “I owe you one.”
    â€œDamn straight you do. Which is why I’m gonna let you buy me lunch today.”
    â€œGee, thanks.”
    As they walked up to the restaurant, she turned and glanced at the street. The gray car was nowhere in sight.

Seven
    T he high brick wall that surrounded Sonny Betts’s sprawling stucco mansion was all but hidden by twenty-foot-tall crepe myrtle trees that also concealed surveillance cameras. The wind was blowing off the lake, and as Mitchell pulled the car up to the scrolled iron gates, the scent of oleander drifted through the open window.
    A guard with a clipboard came over to the car and leaned down so that he could see into the window. He was tall and swarthy with the forearms and neck of a former linebacker.
    â€œCan I help you folks?”
    Mitchell and Evangeline hauled out their IDs.