Tony Dunbar - Tubby Dubonnet 07 - Tubby Meets Katrina Read Online Free

his phone. “I’d be lost without this,” he commented to himself.
    “I still don’t have one,” Tubby said.
    “No? You ought to. Take mine till the hurricane’s over.” He handed Tubby the compact stainless steel contraption.
    “I wouldn’t know what to do with it.” Tubby turned the little machine over in his palm.
    “You’ll figure it out. I’ll write the number down for you. I’ve got another one in my pocket and that’s what my men call me on. It’s unsafe for you to be out here without any communications.”
    The rusty metal door at the top of the staircase groaned open, and Manuel was there.
    “Nice wheels,” he said, admiring the helicopter.
    “It gets you there in a hurry,” Flowers said. “Mr. Dubonnet wants to see his office.”
    “The building is closed, but I will let you in. Please make your visit quick though because I am soon setting all of the alarms.”
    “Are you leaving?”
    “No, I will be here. My family is gone back to Texas. But I’m staying here in the building. Maybe we can open back up for business tomorrow or Tuesday.”
    He led them down one flight of stairs to an elevator, which he summoned with his key and a plastic card. He pushed the button for the forty-third floor.
    “You remembered,” Tubby said happily.
    “Sure, I know where your office is, Mr. Dubonnet. You been gone?”
    “Yeah, five months almost, down to South America.”
    “Really, what country?”
    “Bolivia.”
    “I have never been there. My family is from Nicaragua. We have only been north, never south. I have seen your secretary Cherrylynn many times. She comes to work while you are gone?”
    “Oh, yes. That’s quite all right. Cherrylynn has the run of the place.” Thank goodness. Cherrylynn was the only one who knew what was going on most of the time. She was a single woman, a refugee from some relationship in the Great Northwest, and she was determined to carve out a life for herself without male assistance in New Orleans. She did, however, accept the assistance of a job with Tubby, and he knew that he received more from her than he paid for. She had also always had a crush on Flowers. Tubby had last spoken with her a week ago. He expected that Cherrylynn had taken herself off to somewhere safe. That girl could take care of herself.
    The elevator doors opened, and there were the big glass doors with dubonnet & associates printed in gold. There were not really any associates, since Tubby’s last partner, Reggie Turntide, had met an unfortunate death years before, but it sounded better to have associates.
    Tubby found that he was glad to see it all again. He had a key card for the doors.
    “You guys can make yourselves at home,” the attorney said as he walked through his reception area and into the corridor behind. The detective and security man shrugged. There wasn’t much to do in a lawyer’s office. Manuel took his leave. He told Flowers that the elevator would be open for him. They could get back to the roof the same way they came down.
    “Just don’t try to go to no other floors,” he cautioned.
    “No problema,” Flowers replied. He plopped himself down in Tubby’s easy chair and opened a six-month-old New Orleans CitiBusiness .
    Tubby walked to his office at the back. His desk was just as he had left it. The same files were on top. Even one marked Cowappatack Tribal Casino. He shuddered. That one was better shredded. But he didn’t shred it or anything else. Instead he walked to his window with the panoramic view of the French Quarter and the majestic bend of the Mississippi River. The black clouds coming across the horizon from the direction of the Gulf of Mexico made the scene quite dramatic. His city looked just about the same as he remembered it, though. A towboat was pushing a string of barges slowly upriver. In the French Quarter, street lights were flickering on. It was a great city. He had missed it. Nowhere was life so sweet as in New Orleans. Nowhere could you find