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something to do with the murder of this girl? Why, you’re worse than your partner. At least, he’s up front with his contempt. But you. You waltz in here overflowing with sincerity, harboring suspicions I might be a murderer.”
    “That’s my job,” Lucier said, “which I wouldn’t be doing if I didn’t check out every person involved in a murder. That means you and your parents. I understand how you feel, but put yourself in my place.”
    “I don’t want to be in your place.” She glared at him. “I feel like I’ve been stabbed in the back.”
    “Look, I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but you would have found out we were checking on you. There’s a killer out there, and you’re the only one who can help.”
    “Why didn’t I keep my big mouth shut? Now, if I don’t help you, I’m screwed, and if I help and don’t find anything, I’m a fraud, which is what everyone thinks I am anyway.” She massaged the back of her neck to relieve the tension that had mounted since Lucier entered her hotel room. “I can’t win.”
    “Sure you can.” Lucier grinned. “Come with me and help me find the killer.”
    The nerve of this guy . “On the record—you’re one sneaky hypocrite.”
    “I’m a good cop, Ms. Racine. Sorry if I offended you, but I did what good cops do.”
    “Yeah, well, maybe.” She tightened the ties on her robe and picked up the phone. “I’m going to order coffee from room service. What about you?”
    “Sure, I could use a little caffeine to calm my nerves. I’ve just received the worst dressing-down since my mother caught me at fifteen with a six-pack. And she was tough.”
    Diana didn’t want to smile, but she did. So did Lucier.
    Room service delivered the pot of coffee, they made small talk while drinking, then Diana pulled her legs into a lotus position and closed her eyes. She slipped back into the night of the party, relating everything as she visually remembered. This was not something she wanted to do, but she couldn’t ignore the off-chance an overlooked detail might surface. It didn’t.
    She shook her head. “It’s exactly as I described the other times.”
    “Will you go with me to the park?”
    “The area has to be a huge.”
    “Yes, but we’ll focus on the secluded areas populated by alligators. That narrows it down.”
    Diana hesitated. “Okay, I’ll go, but I’ve got a show at eight.”
    “No problem. I’ll make sure you’re back on time.” Lucier stood. “I didn’t think you’d accept. Thanks.”
    “Well, at least I’m not predictable.”
    “Oh, I’d say you’re anything but.”
    “I need to change. I’ll be a minute.” She called from the bedroom, “Don’t you ever go home?”
    “Sometimes.”
    “Your family must like to see you occasionally.”
    “Right now, work comes first.”
    She changed into black nylon jogging pants and a white T-shirt, with a white cotton sweater tied around her waist. “I’m ready, let’s go.”
    “Do you always wear black and white?” Lucier asked.
    “Yes, except sometimes I add a little red. I made the decision years ago. Makes for an easy wardrobe. Now the audience expects it. It’s my trademark.”
    “And no jewelry, I read.”
    “Never. An eager reporter once accused me of hypnotizing an audience participant with a pendant. I only wear these pearl earrings now and, when I’m not performing, a ring or watch.”
    Lucier opened the door and motioned her to go first. “You’re right. You can’t win, can you?”
    She grabbed her purse. “Don’t remind me.”

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Six
    Background Check
     
    L ucier drove. They left the city, crossed the Mississippi onto Westbank Expressway, and into Westwego, passing the camping area of the park and drove into the gnarly regions of the bayou. Police cars and SUVs spread around the area; uniformed officers combed the banks for clues.
    “Let’s start where we found the body,” he said. “My guess is he killed her somewhere on the