Delta Bayou and the Miss Dixieland Pageant (Delta Bayou Adult Mystery #1)

Chapter Eight: The Photoshoot

The sharp trill of a phone poked through Delta's dreams. She awoke with a start. It was her work cell. She groaned and disentangled herself from her duvet, arm flopping over to her nightstand for the phone. "Hello?"

"Robbins. Get to the station immediately." It was Stanford. 

"What? What time is it? What's happened?"

"You'll find out soon enough." He hung up. Delta swung her legs out of bed, heart pounding. She checked her watch. It was 6 AM. Several hours earlier than she had needed to be up for the Miss Dixieland photoshoot happening later that day. She showered and dressed quickly before heading to the station. If it had been a real emergency, Stanford would have told her what it was. She wondered if it had something to do with Allison and her overdose the night before. The last she had heard, she had been in stable condition.

Chief Payne was in the station when she arrived. He opened his office door to her and shut it quickly behind him. "Nick Carrillo's body was found this morning." 

She stopped in her tracks. Her heart clenched. "What?"

"He was discovered in the river this morning by two fishermen at dawn."

Chief Payne patted her shoulder. "I know it is hard when you know them."

"I didn't just know him. I liked him! What happened?" She felt suddenly sick on her stomach, and pressed her head against her hands, trying to master the flood of emotions, but only able to think of him as he looked that night in his office at the club, wet shirt on the floor, tanned skin glowing in the lamplight, alive and breathing. How could he be dead?

"We don't have the full coroner's report yet, but it appears that he was shot. Now that we've got a murder investigation on our hands, I'm adding Stanford to this case. And I'm considering pulling you from it altogether. It's very likely that he was murdered at the party you attended last night, Detective. Where were you?"

"What! You can't do that. You can't blame me for this! I was investigating Cassandra and Malcolm last night. I can't be everywhere. And when I saw him... he was fine." Delta could feel a headache beginning in her temples. And her stomach hurt. "I'm so close to cracking this," she said. "Don't pull me off of the case now."

The chief sighed and guided her to an interrogation room. "Ok. But Stanford is still on the case. He will investigate the murder in an official capacity. You will continue to work the drug angle undercover. I can't imagine it isn't related. You have until the night of the pageant. Then the case is all Stanford's."

"I'll solve it." For Nick. Her stomach clenched again and she shut her eyes tightly, seeing warm brown eyes, surrounded by shadows.

"Stanford is going to need your eyewitness account of the party last night. He's in Room 1."

 Delta nodded and stumbled out of his office. She walked to the interrogation room and pushed open the door, seeing Stanford already sitting at the metal table. His head was propped on one hand. He looked tired and barely glanced at her when she entered. She sat down across from him. "The chief told you that I'm on the case now?" he said. Being tired didn't prevent him from sounding smug.

"Only for the murder. I'm still in charge of the drug trafficking."

"Since I got pulled from the arson case, we're going to need to renegotiate our agreement." He fiddled with his fingers and looked at her, hazel eyes flickering over her face, waiting for a reaction. 

She noticed the cords of amber in his irises, the flecks of gold and cloud gray. His pupils seemed to dilate as she looked at him, even under the sickly shine of the fluorescents above. She realized she hadn't answered him yet and started, looking away from his eyes, now intensely trained on hers. "Sure. You find the murderer first and you win. I bust the drug ring first and I win. Not that this is an appropriate time to talk about our bet. A man is dead," she reminded him.