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

Chapter Eleven: Delta Claims her Prize

The next day, Delta found herself once again in the interrogation room with Stanford. She sat, crossing her legs, and leaning back in her chair, feeling well-rested for the first time in several weeks. Stanford looked relaxed as well. "Cassandra confessed last night," he told her as she pushed the hair back from around her face. "It was exactly like you said."

"She killed Nick because he refused her. He didn't want anything to do with Malcolm's drug-selling plan. He as much as said it to me the night I met him." Delta's stomach still knotted up when she thought of Nick and that night, but she pushed the feeling down.

"Actually, Cassandra maintains that selling the drugs was her own plan, and not Malcolm's. She says that she is the one that got Malcolm on board, although it was his idea to use the pageant to distribute them."

"And what does Malcolm say?"

"He's refusing to speak without a lawyer, but Cassandra's testimony already has him backed into a corner. As have the files that we pulled from his computer. He was a meticulous note-taker. They were using the raffle sells as a way to launder the money from the drug sells. Their men would buy the tickets and get a coded receipt. It listed the amount they bought, the price, the total, and the raffle number they would use as their 'winning ticket' for the pickup. We have the lists he made on file, although none of the actual receipts yet."

"I saw one of those in Floyd's truck," Delta told him. "Search it and you should find the proof.

Stanford nodded, and Delta was glad he didn't ask her what she had been doing in Floyd's truck. "The list of numbers that you saw on Malcolm's computer was the list of numbers to call for the winners. Cassandra said that he made her memorize them. We checked the tickets that she had drawn out on stage and sure enough, none of them were numbers that she actually called."

"What about Mike Dunn?"

Stanford scratched his jaw. "No hard evidence on him yet. Cassandra says that he knew all about it and that she turned to him for connections to drug runners. He says that she is a murderess who can't be trusted. He says that Malcolm and Cassandra asked him for reliable people for hire, but didn't say what for. What do you think?"

Delta scowled and thought of the night that she had seen Mike and Nick arguing in his bar. She thought of Mike's red face as he had talked to Floyd in the store, and how discreetly he had passed him Malcolm's information. "He knew. I'm not sure where you'll find the proof, but he knew."

"Cassandra also confirmed that Sasha Wilkins was manufacturing the drugs. Our officers went by her house. It was abandoned. We've put out an APB on her. She'll turn up." 

Delta only nodded, still angry at herself for being pulled into Sasha's web. "What about Phil?"

"No one has anything to say about Phil. In fact, everyone is adamant that Phil could have had nothing to do with any of it."

Delta felt some of the pressure uncurl in her chest. "Good. He's a nice guy. I really don't think he knew."

Stanford just shrugged. "Well, we'll look into him, of course. But right now there is no reason to suspect his involvement. Although how someone can have half of their organization running a drug ring right underneath their nose without them finding out is a bit beyond me."

"He thinks the best of people," Delta said. She was fond of Phil. She hoped that he had successfully asked out Sarah. 

"And now, one other thing," Stanford said. "About that guy you shot."

"Riiiiiight." Delta cringed. "Would it help to say that I was on drugs?"

Stanford's eyes went wide. "What!?"