Robicheaux (Dave Robicheaux #21)

by James Lee Burke

“You ain’t gonna boss me, no.” “I wouldn’t try to do that,” I said. “I think you’re a good lady, Ms. Dartez. I think someone used your husband to bring me harm.” “It was you,” she said. “It’s all been you.” “No, ma’am, it’s not me,” I said. A raindrop struck her forehead and ran through one eyebrow and across her nose like silver thread. But she never blinked, and she did not try to wipe the water from her face. “Why you done this to me? I ain’t got nothing except two hungry kids, me.” I put a hand on each of her shoulders, whether she liked it or not. “My wife Annie was murdered. So was my mother. My father was killed by an oil-well blowout that shouldn’t have happened. I know what it feels like to be treated badly by the world. That is why I would never deliberately hurt you or your husband. Look into my face and tell me I’m lying.” “I ain’t got to do nothing you say.” “No, you don’t. But what does your conscience tell you? Forget about the preacher at your church, good man that he might be; forget about me; forget about every other person in the world except you and your children and your own idea of God. What does your conscience tell you?” She faltered. “I ain’t sho’.” “No, tell me, Ms. Dartez. Tell me now.” I squeezed her shoulders tighter. Tears were welling in her eyes. She shook her head. “Say it.” “You’re telling the troot’.” “Thank you,” I said. She dropped the sign on the grass. “What am I gonna do, suh?” “Whatever it is, Alafair and I will help you with it.” S...