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WHO CHILLED FREDDIE THE FREELOADER?

After diner, Prime rib au jus, I alighted and went for a second round of drinks. The bar was busy and boisterous. Happy hour was in full swing. I espied a barstool and rushed it. My skeleton had just settled when a barmaid strutted up. "Yes?"

I didn’t ask her a question.

I ordered drinks and told her where the waiter needed to deliver them. Then I said, "I’ll have a Early Times and soda here at the bar. I’ll be back in a wink."

I headed to the men’s room. It was occupied so I waited. Five minutes later the door opened and I slipped passed the man wearing a contented visage. Inside, my swelled prostate gland slowed progress.

Minutes later I was returning to my barstool when I heard a woman scream. I speeded up. Now I could see where I sat and a man was sprawled out on the floor. The barmaid looked on and curiosity seeker besieged the man. I pushed through the crowd saying. "Let me through. I’m a private detective." No one seemed to care. I forced my way through anyway. I saw the death stare in the man’s open eyes. I stooped to my knees and checked his pulse. It was still. "Barmaid, tell the waiter who delivered the four drinks that I ordered to return and tell the man sitting there to come quickly. He’s Captain Murray of the New Orleans Police. And call the life squad. "Okay! Stand back! We need room to work." I ordered authoritatively. Slowly the crowd dispersed.

A natural response for me would have been to grab the Early Times and drink a big slug, but a Divine instinct said don’t you dare touch it. In two minutes, Nip arrived. He checked the man’s pulse and shook his head. "I think he’s as dead as a coffin nail. Don’t say anything to rattle the crowd," he whispered to me. I need to get homicide down here as quickly as possible. We need to get names of customers. Keep order while I go call homicide."

I nodded. The barmaid returned. I leaned near her. "Don’t touch my drink, and please go about your work as nothing has happened. How much do I owe you?"

"Seven fifty."

"Does that include the drink on the bar?"

"Well—Give me six bucks." I gave her seven and told her to keep the overage.

Nip returned. They‘re on their way. I dropped by the table and told Deolena and Sarah that we’d be delayed about thirty minutes. The band has started playing and my feet are itchy. What’s the barmaid’s name?"

"I don’t know. Try beautiful."

"Beautiful, have you got a minute?" shouted Nip.

"Yessir!"

"I’m Captain Murray, New Orleans police. I have several questions."

"Yessir!"

"Have you seen the man on the floor in here before?"

"Yessir! We call him Freddie the Freeloader. I don’t know his real name."

"Why Freddie the Freeloader?"

"He hangs around bars and steals drinks. I didn’t see him. Had I, I would have chased him."

"Who was sitting here before Freddie came along?"

"Your friend."

He turned to me. "Where were you, Hackney?"

"After buying drinks, I went to the men’s room."

"While my friend was away, did anyone sit in his stool?"

"Yes. As soon as your friend left, a lady stopped for a few seconds. Then a man came by and sat there. I told him the stool was taken. He said he only wanted to order a beer. I got him one and he left."

"Do you see him anywhere?"

She looked around. "No—"

"Have you seen him in here before?"

"No."

"Would you recognize him again?"

"I think so. He had a funny looking birth mark on his face."

"How soon after he left did Freddie show up?"

"I’m not sure. I got busy for a few minutes. When I looked over, Freddie collapsed to the floor clutching his throat. That’s when I screamed."

"Thank you, miss."

"You handle that professionally, Nip. You must have a theory?" And to think this handsome Irishman was voted the least likely to succeed. Of course in private, the girls called him the Irishman with the biggest—libido in the world.

"Yes, but you don’t want to hear it."

I didn’t push the issue. I also had a theory.

The Firms Office Later

Deloris picked up the phone and dialed.

"Brrring!"

"Brr…!"

"Vieux Carré Precinct, Sergeant Ruth Hooker speaking."

"Deloris Pillsbury here…"

"Who?"

"Mister McTrite's new partner."

"Yes, of course. I haven't met you but I've heard outstanding things about you, and I knew your father. What can we do for you? "

"I want to speak with Captain Murray"

"I'm beaming in Don Juan."

"Captain Murray, Deloris. When are we going to share a table for lunch?"

"You name it."

"Well, Monday and I were getting together on Friday 'til he decided to indulge a wild goose chase…"

"That'll be copasetic. Where and when?"

"Noon. The Napoleon House."

"Swell."

"That settled, what can I do for you?"

"The business is slower than a dead turtle on its back. So, I thought I might investigate Freddie's murder…"

"I know we're moving slow on that, but that's our affair."

"Sure it is, but you shouldn't mind if I help."

"Well, no, but promise you'll coordinate your finding with me. You and I want to get off on the right foot. Incidentally, your father was an exemplary officer, the pride of the force. I thought the world of him."

"That's gracious of you, sir. As I said earlier, we think the murderer is someone in Hackney's recent history. That's why we came up with George Morris. But there are a few more likely suspects." I went down the list of recent contacts.

Murray said something quite profound when I reached the name of the crooked cop Hackney had fingered for accepting hush money. "Sgt. Carl Thompson had a girl friend who was desecrated when Hackney fingered her lover. She's a vamp with a violent disposition. She's capable of almost any heinous act. Thompson met her when she was jailed for attempted murder. Somehow, she talked her way out of that. And she has a reputation for being easy."

"A lazy-legs?"

"Yes!"

"What's her name?"

"Grace Payne."

"Address?"

"I'm not certain, but you can catch her at the fancy watering-hole, The Can Can Bistro. I've heard Sgt. Thompson talking about meeting her there. And she usually eats lunch there. She's a hairstylist by day."

"Sounds like a strip joint, sir."

"I suppose so, but it's a far cry from that. The upper-crust flock to it like maggots to a dead carcass." I felt sickly for a moment.

"Well, if we ten-four maybe I can make it over there for lunch. What does she look like?"

"A fiery redhead with curves stacked on curves and limpid green eyes that are killers."

"You sound as though you know her pretty much?"

"Well, I dated her a few time way back, but her tastes were too rich for my pocketbook." He chuckled. "The milk was too expensive. I make it the old fashioned way. I earn it. Thompson was on the take. I heard Thompson gave her his MG before he was sent up the river. Did I mention she's petite? You can't miss her. She stands out like a prostitute on a street corner."

"You have a way with words, Captain. Let's say goodbye so I can go dance the Can Can. I'll see you at The Napoleon House noon Friday.

"Goodbye, Deloris."

"Click!"

The Can Can Bistro - Thirty Minutes Later

Deloris was having trouble squeezing her new BMW into the parking space near The Can Can Bistro. The BMW was a luxury she'd afforded herself after the Coca-Cola stock investigation hatched fully, and the huge fee was received. Learning of her extravagance, McTrite was beside himself. He said he was in the business three years before he made enough money to buy a new car, and then it was a Chevy. She alighted and jogged across the street to the front entrance. She bounced joyously and several men stopped and gawked.

Inside, she advanced to the bar, found a barstool next to a middle-aged man of medium height, slender anatomy, with a modest expression of pleasure on his countenance. He could have been gay. He seemed to be admiring the handsome male bartender. The Florida sun had baked the muddy complexion on his face. The most interesting thing about him was that he didn't smoke. She perched and admired the young bartender busily mixing drinks for the swelling lunch crowd. He was a hunk with the body and buttocks of a fullback, but he didn't compare to her tight-end, Ray. She was, however, stimulated, but she breathed normally.

"What are you having, Miss?" His almond shaped blue-gray eyes smiled through a blush.

"Shirley Temple with two cherries."

"It's finally happened."

"A Shirley Temple order."

"Yes."

"There's a first time for everything. I'll have a menu, please. I'm expecting a lady friend, Grace Payne."

"You'll have a long wait. She's gone out of town."

"Must've come up suddenly."

"Yes, I think so."

"Did she say where she was going?"

"No! She only said she had some business away."

As he tuned to fix her Shirley Temple, Deloris took a gander at the menu. It'll be a cold day in you know where when I pay four-fifty for a burger and fries. She decided to drink and leave. She had second thoughts. Grace might have a friend who comes in with her.

'Muscle bound' returned with her drink. She said, "Is her friend coming in today." It was a shot in the dark.

"That's a difficult question. Jean usually comes in with her if she doesn't have a twelve o'clock hair appointment. Are you ready to order?"

"Give me a few more minutes." She hurriedly drank the Shirley Temple and devoured the two cherries. She left three dollars on the bar and split.

Twenty minutes later she sat at her desk fuming about the price of a ginger ale with two cherries. She picked up the phone and dialed.

"Brrring!"

"Brrring!"

"Sergeant Hooker speaking."

"Hi, sergeant, is Captain Murray in?"

"Keep your pants on for a moment."

Who's wearing pants?

"Hello, Deloris. You can't stay away."

"Right! You have magnetic charm, sir. Got a quickie. Where does Grace Payne work?"

"She use to work at The Hair Palace on Canal. If she isn't there now, they might lead you to her new employer."

"Thank you, sir."

"Click!"

She dialed again and heard the gay voice of a male hairstylist. "The Hair Palace, Franky speaking."

"I'd like to make an appointment with Grace Payne please."

"Miss Payne will be out of town for about ten days. After that she'll be full for a week."

"Did she say where she was going?"

"Well, no, not exactly, but she mentioned Florida. I heard her tell Jean that she needed to buy some suntan lotion because Florida's sun burns your hams and upper torso quickly. Could someone else be of service?"

"Well, how about her friend, Jean?"

"One moment please. She has an opening for Thursday at one p.m."

"I can't make that, and I'm going away on Friday. Thank you. I'll call when Miss Payne returns."

"Click!"

She wanted to call Hackney and warn him. Her psychic had blared out the Chief's in danger. Grace Payne is stalking you with homicidal intent. Where can he be? How did she know Hackney was going to Florida looking for the embezzlers?

McTrite Key West Bound

I checked my watch as I pulled into the Holiday Inn on I-10. I'd made excellent time. Dusk was now. I observed the MG was still on my tail. It pulled off the exit-ramp, into the lot, and circled behind the Inn. I figured she was going to park and approach the front desk from a rear entrance. I walked to the check-in counter and stood behind an older man. He finished renting a room and left. I rented a single with a double bed just in case the woman in the MG had designs for me. Of course, I jest, but Sarah wouldn't find my evil thought amusing.

Apprehension, spawned from the mystery lady, had blocked pangs of hunger. But now, food was all I thought about as I headed for room 113. However, I couldn't relax completely. After stacking my luggage by the bed, I cleaned up, donned a comfortable polo shirt, and headed for the bar. I did a quick about face and marched to the back of the building. The MG was parked two spots away from the back entrance. I memorized the Louisiana tag numbers. The bumper sticker smacked of New Orleans. "N'Awlins…The greatest."

I turned and headed for the check-in counter, thinking about how I could ask about the woman without raising suspicion. Two steps later I decided to be honest. With my PI license exposed, I stepped up and asked the dowdy clerk, "I'm a Private Investigator, ma'am. I've been following a suspected murderess. She drives a MG with Louisiana plates." I told her the numbers. "Has she checked in?

"This is somewhat irregular, sir." She leaned over and took a gander at my credentials. The décolleté bodice was daring. I thought, no one is without some saving grace.

I was pleased when she reached for the check-in sheet. "Her name's Jill Carpenter. She lives in Biloxi Mississippi."

That's a complete falsehood. "She's not the person I'm looking for, unless she gave you false information. Can you describe her?"

"Well, yes. She's petite, beautiful, and shapely. She has flaming red hair. Her eyes are greener than an Irish meadow in late spring. She has a sweet voice and friendly eyes, not at all representative of a vicious nature."

"Thank you, Ma'am. She's not the one." My how she drooled through her entire description of the lady. Could she be a dike?

When I reached the bar, my tongue hung inches below my lower lip. Maaan, I needed an ET savagely. I believe, at this instant, I'd kill for one. I spotted her immediately and bravely sat beside her. I saw her twitch with vexation. Then, I thought my actions were stupidly dangerous. Lately, slipping cyanide into cocktails and beer glasses had become fashionable from London to Paris to New Orleans.

I tried to relax. I glanced at her peripherally. She has a pleasant face. I could be wrong about her. She sipped a Tom Collins.

After reaching Key West and settling in at Pier House Resort Hotel, I called my office.

"Brrring!" I drummed my fingers.

"Brrring!"

McTrite Investigative Services, Deloris speaking." Darn, that's a mouth full, she thought.

"It's so good to hear your voice, lady."

"Chief, I've been sitting here on pins and needles. Have you forgotten how to use the telephone?"

"You sound excited. Anything important?"

"It's opinionated. But if living to a ripe old age is desirable, it's important." She told him about Detective Bill Thompson's vindictive girl friend.

"Holy smoke, a little go-to-hell MG driven by a woman followed me halfway to Key West. I lost her near Sebring, Florida. She definitely aborted the chase, unless she picked up another car. Now, I start looking over my shoulders again. What are you doing to bring in revenue?"

"Drinking less coffee. The fact that the business is non-existent is the reason I started looking into who done Freddie in. With the girl away, I'm starting to play Sol. I'm fifty-six dollars ahead at this moment."

"That won't last. Surrender now. It's like sex. Once you start you can't stop." She chuckled.

"What's Key West like. I hear the place is overrun with Hemingway look alike. And prices are high as a cat's back."

"Yes, but the friendly barmaids serve spine-tingling cocktails. It's also populated with Tennessee William act alike. "

"I read somewhere that it's not for the cultural elite, but the culturally deprived love it." I chuckled to be polite.

I resemble that remark. "One fact's undeniable. It's a paradise for serious drinkers. Incidentally, I've made contact with the embezzlers."

"Great! We won't say any more about that."

"Hey! Kid! I don't know when I'll point my toes towards N'Awlins. If business remains slow, why not edit my mystery novel?"

"I'm falling backwards. Glad you asked. Who's got it."

"Sarah. Give her a call and ask her to drop it off."

"Watch your step, Chief. I'd miss you if something awful happened."

"Taking care of number one has always been my highest priority. But thanks for caring. Catch you on the rebound, Deloris. Goodbye."

"Click!"

I checked my watch. What the hell do I do now? I can go get a toenail pedicure and go barefooted. I'd be appreciated at Bourbon Street Pub. If you haven't guessed, it's one of several gay bars along Duval. You don't know 'til you go inside. Then it's pathetically obvious unless you're one of them. An idea leapt from my gray matter. I alighted and went to the elevator. Going down, I came to my senses. I had intended to go to the desk and ask for Stanley and Heather's room number, but I realized an inquiry would get back to them. Alerting them was the last thing I wanted. So, I went for a long walk—along the beach. The sites were delicious. I hated myself, but the devil made me look—and look—and look. What, with the sailboats gliding across the shimmering Gulf and the femmes prancing across the hot sand I couldn't resist.

Office Next Morning

Deloris sipped her second coffee. Her brain twirled like a majorette's baton. If I'm going to get to the bottom of who killed Freddie, I've got to do some old fashioned PI snooping and pavement pounding. The game starts at the scene of the crime. I'll go to Howard Johnson for lunch and talk to the barmaid. She might remember someone who was present the night of the murder. I'll describe Marie to her. She might remember seeing her fooling around McTrite's drink.

Deloris pounded the pavement and learned little. McTrite, who'd gone to Key West pursuing the embezzlers, found them and followed them to Paris. He finally cornered them in Monte Carlo and convinced them that surrendering was their best alternative. They came within an inch of wasting him. Returning to New Orleans, McTrite decided to take a well-deserved vacation. The firm was over one million dollars richer. He'd fallen in love with Key West and decided to take Sarah and the foster kids there for a long vacation.

Vacation Time - Cayo Hueso - Island of Bones

I rented an economy rental when we arrived at the airport in Key West. Sarah and Catherine sat in the backseat and Donald joined me up front. We drove directly to the Pier House Resort Hotel where I'd stayed when I came to Key West following the embezzlers. Driving into the parking area, I was again taken by the sign, "Let us charm you with sumptuous sensual pleasures." It belongs on the marquee of a bawdy-house.

"Monday, what are they running here?" she asked, as I turned the Buick into a parking spot.

"Oh, you read the sign? Your thought astonishes me, considering the kids are aboard."

"I wasn't serious. Sounds like they pamper you to death."

"They bend over backward indulging your simplest needs. Just think. You won't have to make a bed, vacuum, wash a dish…well, you get the idea."

"I can just imagine what it's going to cost."

"What are you two arguing about, Mema?" asked Catherine.

"We're not arguing, precious."

"Who cares, Sarah. I just earned the firm a one point-eight-million-dollar fee. We're rich."

"And to think, eighteen months ago we couldn't afford toilet paper."

"Sarah, not one more word about those days. We're pulling all the stops out and having a ball."

"Are we going to just sit here?" asked Donald.

"No. We're going in right now, tiger."

The next morning we ate breakfast by the pool. The kids had barely finished their pancakes when they went swimming. Sarah and I enjoyed another cup of coffee then joined them. After a long swim and water ball, we grabbed bikes and peddled the Old City and the dock areas dressed in swimming attire. I arranged a half-day fishing trip for the next day. We discovered a small cafe that served burgers and shakes and ate lunch. In the afternoon the kids made sand castles by the Gulf while we watched. At three p.m. everyone was pooped and we returned to our suite of rooms. Sarah and the kids hit the beds. I hit the bar. Happy hour was cranking up. I'd sworn off drinking in the presence of the kids. Sarah thought it was thoughtful and allowed me a happy hour to myself.

After one drink, I noticed the older lady sitting across the bar. Her hair had been tinted blue. She wore the attire of an elderly lady that deceived a younger face. I wouldn't have thought much about it but she displayed supercilious eyebrows and showed guarded interest in me. She wasn't going to strike in a crowd and I wasn't going to leave my drink unattended for a second. I shook off the apprehension and ordered another dynamite Margaritaville toddy. I thought, wasting away in Margaritaville. The affable barmaid was the same one that had served me when I was here tailing the embezzlers. She remembered my generosity and was treating me royally. I said, "Does Lulu Thompson come in these days?"

"About twice a week. She drinks around."

"Knowledgeably lady."

"She must've kissed the Blarney Stone, She's a charmer…and funny I might add. Last week she told me this yarn. Swore it was the truth. Truman Capote and Tennessee Williams were drinking in a Key West bar when a woman came over to their table and asked Capote to autograph her navel. She handed him an eyebrow pencil and pulled up her T-shirt. "Just write it like you would the numerals around a clock." So, he wrote his name around her navel and she left smiling. Minutes later, her pissed husband came over to Capote, handed him the pencil, hauled out his "equipment" and howled, "Since you're autographing everything, how'd you like to autograph this?" Truman paused, looked closely and said, "Well, I don't know if I can autograph it, but perhaps I could initial it." I laughed and took a big gulp of my ET.

"Have you ever seen the lady with blue hair in here before?"

She looked closely. "No."

"Does she have a nasal accent?"

"You mean like yours?"

"Yeah, I'm from New Orleans. It goes with the territory."

"Well, yes, now that you mentioned it."

"Thank you, cupcake."

"Cute name. I bet you call all the girls that?"

"Nope. Just the friendly one's like you."

Now, my suspicions ran the fast track.

After happy hour, my family met me in the Harbor View Café and we enjoyed a sumptuous dinner. Later, we watched the gorgeous sunset from our balcony and retired early. The sun had sapped our energy, and we were exhausted.

The Sun Also Rises on Mallory Square

I went to the phone and dialed my office. One ring-a-ding and I heard Deloris' sultry voice. "McTrite and Company, Deloris Speaking.

"Hey there, you with the stars in your eyes."

"Chief, I've tried all morning to reach you."

"What's hot?"

"Marie Moody has vamoosed. I've looked everywhere and asked around."

"I think she's here in my hotel."

"Holy, walking catfish. She hates our guts for getting infidelity evidence that led to her divorce from the rich judge. What are you doing about it? "

"What can I do? Occasionally I shake."

"Chief, you better take this serious. I'd miss you."

"Thanks, partner. I also love you."

Next Morning

We'd slept late. My watch read nine-thirty-three when we sat at our favorite table by the pool. 'What do you children want to eat?" asked Sarah, with motherly sweetness.

"I'm tired of pancakes," said Donald. "I'd like a waffle and chocolate milk."

"Me too, Mema."

"Do you want some bacon or sausage?"

"Naw!"

"Catherine?"

"No ma'am."

"What are you going to have, luv?"

"Ham and eggs and a small stack."

"You're reading my mind."

"Good morning, folks, said Warren, the waiter, pouring coffee for Sarah and me. He filled water glasses. "What are you having today?"

Sarah said, "Four large OJs, waffles for the children, and ham and eggs sunny side up for us."

"Thank, you." He shuffled away.

After breakfast, I had to go. "I'll be back in a jiffy. I want to buy a paper and…you know."

"Mepa's got to grunt," said Donald snickering.

Walking briskly toward the hotel, I noticed 'the' woman sitting on her balcony. Having learned from Deloris that Marie Moody was nowhere to be found in N'Awlins, I strongly suspected she was Marie, waiting an opportune time to brutally harm me.

I bought a Newspaper in the lobby and strolled to our suite on the ground floor. I opened the door, and rushed to the large bathroom between rooms. I slipped down my trousers and shorts and perched. I started reading the headlines. A hurricane was raising havoc around Fort Lauderdale, Florida. I searched for the comic strip. After reading my favorites, Dick Tracy, I was finished. I wiped and turned the flush handle. The John almost ran over. I closed the lid and headed for the telephone in my bedroom. I sat at the desk by the balcony sliding doors, picked up the phone, and dialed.

"Brrring!"

"Maintenance, Hector speaking."

"Hector, I've got a backed up toilet. Can you come immediately and fix it."

"What room number, señor?"

"Two twenty."

"I'll be there shortly."

"Good morning, Mister McTrite."

I turned. The 38-caliber automatic equipped with a silencer was pointed at my head.

"How did you get in here?"

"Someone forgot to bolt the door in the other bedroom. So, I picked the lock and here I am. She moved closer. She stood with her back to the hall door. "Keep your hands away from your body where I can see them. Please, no agile moves. I have a few things to get off my chest before I empty the magazine into your heart."

I sure hope I gave Hector the right room number and he's on his way.

"And I desire to watch you sweat and squirm. Life was swell before you rudely interrupted. The football hunks were ideal for my nymphomania. They really showed their appreciation for the money I gave them." Her eyes had darkened with hate. Her cynical smile was twisted. She'd become tense.

Where's Hector? He's my only chance. This woman is going to pull the trigger when she's had her say. I wanted to scream Hector. Hector! Where art thou!

"You took all that away from me. Now my life is miserable. My desires insatiable, with no means to satisfy them."

"Tap! Tap! Tap!"

"Señor, is any one in there?" queried a man with a distinctly Cuban accent.

Thank God, it's Hector.

"Tell him to go away or I kill you both. What do I have to lose?"

"Alguien trata de matarme. ¡Ayúdeme ahora! Le pagaré mucho dinero."

I explained that someone was trying to kill me and asked the Cuban to help me immediately by offering to pay him lots of money for assistance.

"What did you tell him?"

"He's Cuban. I told him we were undressed. Come back in an hour."

"That was smart, McTrite. I don't have much more to say. Enjoy your last few breaths. The gun's heavy. My hate's at a summit. My trigger finger itches."

She took a deep breath.

Don't stop now, lady.

"McTrite, I've waited for this moment for months."

She shifted the gun to her left hand. I flinched. I wanted to duck.

"Judge Sheldon was having more and more difficulty handling my amorous advances. I kept pushing myself on him. I smothered him with sex. Every time he lived through it, I was incensed. But I figured his heart would explode soon. Then, all his money would be mine. You know how it feels to be poor. You were poor once. Now, I hang around lesbians to earn a paltry existence."

I noticed the doorknob slowly turning. I felt hopeful. I prayed with my eyes open. I seized the silent moment and said, "Miss Moody." My voice was more vociferous than usual. I wanted to drown any noise the door might make when Hector opened it. "You won't get away with killing me. The police already suspect that you killed Freddie. Captain Murray knows that I was responsible for your divorce. Even a fool would know it's motivation for murder. I've told my partner that you've been stalking me. The police can trace where the wig was purchased…"

The door slowly opened.

"I've pointed you out to the barmaid." I’d raised my voice slightly. "Even my wife has laid her eyes on you. If you kill me, the indictment is premeditated murder. They'll fry you."

The door was open sufficiently for Hector to come through it. He crept towards her, his right arm positioned to grab the arm holding the gun.

"On the other hand, if you plea bargain on the Freddie killing, you're likely to be charged with only manslaughter. With good behavior, you could be out in three years…"

Hector, flung his arms around Marie grabbing the gun. "Uhhh!"

The gun fired.

My heart fluttered.

The bullet hit the balcony's sliding doors. The glass crunched to the floor and spread everywhere. I gathered my senses. They wrestled for control of the gun. I rushed their way not knowing exactly what to do. When I arrived, Hector held the gun; Marie sprawled on the floor.

"To say I'm glad to meet you would be the most asinine statement I've ever made. You saved my life. Before you go, I want to write you a check for fifteen thousand dollars." The man's eyes looked like a starry night and his smile reached his jaws.

"Thank you, señor."

"Please, call the police. I can handle her now. Oh! You can call the police from the phone over there. Then, would you please unstop the toilet?" Why thoughts of my papa, a plumber, came at this precarious moment is beyond me. I prayed for his soul. He doesn't know how close I came to joining him.

"Señor, this will be the last toilet I unstop for a long time."

I rushed to the balcony. Sarah and the kids were starring at me. I waved and shouted. "I'll be there in a few minutes. Last one in is a toad."

I gave Marie a hand and helped her to her feet. "Miss Moody, you're a slut. That's between you and your God. My God teaches to forgive if you want to be forgiven. I won't press charges if you confess to killing Freddie. I'm even going to pay for the door. As I said, if you plea bargain, you could be free in three or four years. Try to straighten your life out while you're in prison. You'll have plenty of time to meditate. We all have to control our desires."

THE END

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