Mean Woman Blues by Julie Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

He really needed Terri’s car. He hoped she’d call back and tell him where it was and where to find the key.
    He lay down on his bed but found himself absolutely unable to relax.
Dammit, okay
, he thought, and turned on the TV that Pamela had insisted he take when she bought a better one. He’d had it on about twice. Some sort of midday news show was on, a sniper somewhere… Jesus, in the French Quarter. The shot had “narrowly missed a police officer,” the reporter said, and all of a sudden he was looking at an inset photo of someone he knew well— Skip Langdon.
    His stomach turned over, and his heart started pounding. Jesus. Did it have to do with Daniel? His father had good reason to kill Langdon— a string of them, actually— and would. Oh, yes, his father certainly would. If the thought entered his head, he wouldn’t rest till it was done. And the timing. Somehow, with Daniel about to be sentenced… he couldn’t explain it, it was just the kind of thing his father would do.
    Isaac was working up to a pulse rate of about a thousand when the phone rang. He snatched it up, unable to believe he’d been distracted for a moment. He felt like Chicken Little: The sky was definitely falling. “Terri?”
    “No, but Terri asked me to call.” It was a man’s voice. “This is Mike with Lincoln Bail Bonds over in Gretna. Terri said you might be willing to help her.”
    “I’m trying, but bond hasn’t been set yet.”
    “It’ll be about five thousand dollars.”
    “Mike, what are you telling me? It hasn’t been set and won’t be until five this evening.” How dumb did they think he was?
    “I can get a bond set right away.”
    “I beg your pardon? Her lawyer can’t even get a bond set. Why should I believe you can?” Isaac was outraged. He saw the scam immediately. You went all the way across the river, and they said it would just be a few minutes and then three hours later, when the judge was scheduled to set bond, he did, and you were already committed to Lincoln Bail Bonds. Furthermore, you’d wasted your afternoon.
    But just to be sure, he gave Tiffie a call, pretty much expecting to be brushed off again, yet determined to do whatever it took to get that poor scared girl out of jail. To his surprise, the lawyer said, “I’d go for it. Bail bondsmen are in business; if they say they can do it, they must have a way.”
    It sounded crazy to him, but he was still too keyed up to sleep and too tired to do anything else. Why not just take a ride over there?
    In the end, he borrowed Pamela’s car, and to his enormous surprise, all the papers were filled out, awaiting his signature and a nonrefundable cash accompaniment.
    Nothing was what he expected. The bail bond office wasn’t any cheaper or uglier than any other office— indeed it had been rather nicely furnished with fake oriental rugs and fake Queen Anne desks— and the people seemed perfectly nice. Not at all the sort hanging in front of Central Lockup the night before. There was a young black man with a huge cross around his neck, a yuppie-looking dude in a blue polo shirt, and a middle-aged lady with as polite a manner as you’d expect in a person whose customers weren’t a captive audience.
    “I’m Kay,” she said. “Come on. I’ll take you over.”
    “Just like that?” Isaac couldn’t believe the hours of anxiety were really over.
    Inside the lockup, there was a wall of glass, behind which sheriff’s deputies were displayed at work— or, rather, horsing around and talking on the phone. They assiduously avoided Kay’s eye. She didn’t even shrug, just leaned an open hand containing the papers against the glass so they could see what she was there for, in the event they wanted a break from flirting and arranging their kids’ soccer schedules.
    Kay was telling Isaac about her job. “Every hour,” she said, “we come in and get the docket. Then we can start calling people’s relatives.”
    Actually, Isaac found it pretty