Big Kiss-Off by Day Keene

walks and dresses like she might be a model?”
    “She was a model,” Cade said.
    “He’s a big good-looking black Irishman. Curly hair, gray eyes. A cleft in his chin. A heavy drinker who laughs a lot. Has something to do with flying.”
    Mimi nodded. “That ees a good description.”
    The waitress fingered the bills on the table. “Then we’re talking about the same people. The reason Charlie didn’t remember them is because he never works the night shift and they always came in around this time, maybe even a little later. And always with two or three pollys in tow.”
    “Pollys?” Mimi puzzled.
    “Politicians,” the waitress explained. “You know, state representatives and senators and the like, the slickers we, the people send to Baton Rouge to raise our taxes so they can pry somebody’s Uncle Benny into the poor house and build roads for the ducks. So help me. While the couple we’re speaking of were here, the joint was practically an annex of the state capital.”
    Cade shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
    “Neither did I,” the waitress admitted. “But the tips were good while it lasted. It was almost as if Huey had come back to life and the town was running wide open again.”
    “But where are they now? Where did they go from here?”
    The waitress continued to finger the bills on the table. “Well, don’t come back and sue me if I’m wrong and I haven’t the least idea how to get there, but I gathered from what snatches of conversation I overheard, that when they left here they were going to some swank resort or fishing camp that this blonde is building on a big piece of undeveloped acreage she owns on Barataria Bay.”
    “I see,” Cade said.
    The waitress picked up the bills on the table. “My money?”
    “Your money.”
    “You’re satisfied with what I could tell you?”
    “I’m satisfied.”
    Mimi wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Would you tell me just one thing more? How did they act? I mean with each other. Would you say they were sweethearts?”
    The waitress put the two bills in the pocket of her nylon uniform. “That’s a hard thing to say, honey. They were very friendly. She occasionally called him ‘dahling — ’ He called her ‘dear.’ But she also called most of the pollys ‘dahling.’ And from the amount of figuring and scribbling she and Moran did on the backs of menus and on the tablecloths, I got the distinct impression that if they were depressing the coils of an innerspring together, it was strictly a secondary matter. You know, more like they were business partners.”
    “What kind of business?” Cade asked.
    The waitress shrugged. “There you have me, mister. But again I had the distinct impression it had something to do with the land on Barataria Bay.”
    Cade laid a bill on the tray to cover the check and a tip, then stood up and reached for his cap.
    Mimi stood up with him.
    “Back to the boat,” Cade told her.

9
Talk of the Town
    There were stars but no moon. It had been twelve years since Cade had been on the river at night. Some of the landmarks had changed. It was difficult running without lights. It was also dangerous. Once he almost rammed into a floating tree being carried out into the Gulf by the current. Once a freighter, veering from its course, for some reason known only to the man at the wheel, nearly ran them down.
    After passing the cluster of lights on the west bank, which he hoped was Venice, Cade throttled the motors down until he barely had seaway and debated his best move.
    He could head directly for his destination by running the little-used pass originating just south of Venice and terminating in West Bay. It would save him miles and gasoline. He could stop off in Bay Parish and attempt to refuel for the long run to Grand Isle. He might also be able to ascertain just where he stood with the law, learn what moves Tocko had made regarding Joe Laval’s disappearance and his own hasty departure with Mimi aboard