Robicheaux (Dave Robicheaux #21)

by James Lee Burke

Clete found the business card that Carolyn Ardoin had given him and dialed the cell number on it. “I thought I’d ring and let you know I’ll be checking on Homer as often as I can,” he said. “Mr. Smith told me you bought Homer a ball and glove and bat. That was probably one of the best gifts that boy ever had.” “I happened to see them on sale.” “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, Mr. Purcel.” Clete couldn’t remember why he had called. Or maybe he did. It wasn’t easy to talk to normal women. “Is the weather pretty nice over there?” “In Jennings?” she said. “Yeah, it’s a couple parishes over from us. I wondered if the weather was the same.” “I’m pretty sure it’s like yours in New Iberia.” “It’s a swell day here.” “Are you worried about Homer?” “I was also wondering, you know, are you a married lady? I mean, I didn’t see you wearing a wedding ring.” “You saw correctly. I am not married. I was widowed when I was twenty-three.” “I’ve enjoyed our talks and meeting you,” he said. “Three or four times a year I go fishing thereabouts. South of Jennings, I mean.” “Are you trying to tell me something, Mr. Purcel?” “I was wondering if you like movies.” “I love them,” she said. “There’re some good ones playing in Lafayette. There’s a dinner club close by that I’m fond of, too.” “I think I know the place.” “Miss Carolyn, could I motor on by your home this evening?” “I’d like that very much, Mr. Purcel.”