Too Far Gone

77

Alexa tried to call Manseur to give him an update on her meeting with Casey, and to check the status of the search for the tracker that might lead them to Leland Ticholet and the wounded Doc Doe. The call went straight into his voice mail.

“Call me when you get this,” Alexa said.

Ten minutes later, when her cell phone rang, she flipped it open.

“Keen,” she answered.

“Alexa,” Manseur said. “Where are you?”

“Almost back to the downtown.”

“Have any blue jeans with you?” he asked her.

“At the hotel. Why?”

“Sneakers?”

“I have running shoes? Why?”

“Go to your room and change into them. We got a signal on the briefcase tracker in the swamp. I’m leaving the office. I can swing by and pick you up. Kennedy and Bond are getting some equipment and they’ll meet us.”

“Ten minutes,” Alexa said. “I’ll be out front waiting for you.”

Twelve minutes later Alexa climbed into Manseur’s car just as he was yawning. “I thought this might be better than a purse out there.” Manseur handed her a high-rise belt holster for her Glock as well as a magazine holder with a pair of loaded magazines. “Those are your mags. The lab returned them.”

“You are so thoughtful.” Alexa went into her purse to give Manseur the one he’d loaned her.

“The cell phone you found in the grass was the mystery prepaid cell number,” Manseur said. “The phone links Grace to the other perps.”

“No surprise there. By the way, Casey confirmed that our Doc was the orderly from River Run that Grace was flirting with when she was taking pictures out there.”

“Which reminds me. Doc’s real name is Andy Tinsdale. Veronica gave me his last known address. Tinsdale was on the violent wards for three years. He left, under a dark cloud, about the time Fugate did. There were some unsavory accusations involving patient abuse and missing meds.”

“Tinsdale. I remember the name from the list of staff. We need to have a look in his place.”

“We will when we get back. I had patrol check the apartment and it’s locked up tight. Neighbor said nobody’s been in since day before yesterday. By the way, don’t be surprised if there are sound trucks from a caravan behind us. The damned media is in a feeding frenzy, trying to slip this bombshell in to augment their hurricane coverage.”

“Already? They don’t know the diary’s authentic yet.”

“Yes, they do.”

“How?”

“Casey West told them.”

“Casey? You sure?”

“Saw her on the TV myself just before I called you. Announced that she’s just learned about the diary from an FBI agent, who told her it was authentic. Said she’s crushed by LePointe’s actions, but says her uncle should have a chance to explain everything to her and to the public before he’s judged. No matter how scandalous and despicable his actions were, or what actual crimes he committed, he has been a friend of this community, or some such happy crap. Woman threw the old goat to the wolves.”

“Couldn’t happen to a more deserving individual,” Alexa said. She certainly couldn’t blame Casey for reacting as she had, but she hadn’t expected Casey to go public.

Usually people like the LePointes played things close to their vests and the public arena wasn’t the place for washing their dirty laundry. But Casey had certainly earned the right to change the LePointe family handbook.

Alexa almost felt sorry for LePointe. Almost.