Creole Kingpin
Page 17
Tension drains from my body at his statement. I’m not alone. I don’t have to figure this all out by myself. I could, if I needed to. But, damn, it’s nice to know that I don’t have to.
“Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary. Let’s get going.”
Forty-Three
Moses
When we get to Magnolia’s old building, the cops are already there. I don’t take it as a good sign. With Cavender sniffing around yesterday, I would put money on the fact that he’s on alert for anything that relates to Magnolia, because he’s trying to pin the dead body on her.
When we step off the elevator onto her floor, I spot him walking out of her condo.
He locks onto me and Magnolia immediately, and the expression on his face clues me in to the fact that the man is pissed.
Magnolia stiffens when she sees him, and I pull her tighter against my side and squeeze. She’s a badass, but even the toughest people need to lean on somebody every now and again. I’m happy to be that someone for her. If she wants a partner, she’s got the right man, because there’s no way in hell I’d let her face this ever-growing mountain of shit alone. Never.
What happens to her happens to me. That’s how it’s going to be, from today until the last breaths leave our bodies.
The cop coming our way wastes no time. “Mr. Gaspard. Ms. Maison.”
“Detective Cavender.” I give him a nod as I say his name, but he just stands there, staring at both of us for almost a minute. “You got something to say to us, or can we go see what the fuck happened to my woman’s condo?”
“It’s a crime scene,” he says. “Techs are on their way. You’re not allowed inside until they’ve finished their job.”
He’s being rude and it pisses me off, considering we’re talking about Magnolia’s former home being violated.
“It’s my damn condo. I want to see what the hell happened to it,” Magnolia says, ready to pick a fight with the cop.
Instead of letting us inside, the detective pulls out his phone and taps the screen a few times before holding it up in front of us. “You know who would do this to your condo?”
A tremor rips through Magnolia’s entire body, and I have to lock down the fury bursting into my system at the sight of the picture.
On the wall, written in smears of red, it reads:
* * *
I’m coming for you next
* * *
Jesus fucking Christ.
I hold Magnolia closer, rubbing up and down her arm because goose bumps just rose beneath my hand.
“Oh my God,” she whispers with another tremor racking her body. “Carl said it didn’t look like spray paint.” She looks up at me, and we lock eyes. “That doesn’t look like spray paint to me either.”
“It’s not, Ms. Maison. It’s blood.”
“Hey, man.” I pitch my voice low as I take a step toward Cavender. “You wanna take some goddamned care with your words when you’re delivering news like that? Because I got no fucking problem going to your superior to tell him what a fucking dick you’re being with a victim of a fucked-up crime.”
Something flashes across the cop’s face, and it looks a hell of a lot like embarrassment. He steps back, puts his hands on his hips and shifts on his feet, staring at the floor. “Sorry. I could’ve delivered that better.”
Magnolia straightens her shoulders under my arm. “Thank you. I accept your apology. Because whatever you think of me and the life I’ve lived, I’ve never had someone write anything on any wall of mine in fucking blood.” Her eyes are the size of the Rolls’ rims and full of raw fear. Her voice wobbles as she adds, “I don’t know who the fuck would do something like this. I literally can’t think of anyone.”
Cavender clears his throat. “You don’t have any idea what it means? Or why someone might be coming for you next?”
Magnolia shakes her head. “I don’t know who the fuck they got first, so I sure as shit don’t know what being next means.”
The detective shoves his phone and hands into his pockets and rocks back on the heels of his cheap shoes. “You don’t think it has anything to do with the murder committed in your building?”
“I have absolutely no idea, Detective. That’s really more your area of expertise.”
I give her another squeeze to communicate that she’s doing a great fucking job with the cop.
“In order for me to do my job,” Cavender says, “I’m going to need some information from you. Starting with a list of possible enemies. Old colleagues. Old companions. Anyone you can think of who may want to hurt you physically, financially, or otherwise.”
Magnolia laughs sardonically. “I’m sure you’d love that list, but honestly, I don’t know a single person who would be on it that would pull some shit like this. They wouldn’t dare.”
Mount, I think. Everyone knows Magnolia is under Mount’s protection. She’s right. No one who knew that would chance making a move against her.
The cop latches onto her statement. “What do you mean—they wouldn’t dare? Because they know you’d retaliate? Or is there another reason?”
Magnolia stares him down. “Look, Cavender. I have no idea why the fuck it happened. I don’t have anything I can give you that would be a good lead, but I’m gonna think really fucking hard about it. If I come up with anyone who might’ve been inclined to do something like this . . . I’ll let you know.”
That’s my girl. A boss in her own right.
“You heard her, Detective. She doesn’t know anything. Now, if you won’t let us inside, then there’s really no reason for us to be here right now. Let the building manager know when the techs are done so we can arrange cleanup. We’ll be in touch if we think of anything that could be relevant to your investigation.”
I spin us, as a unit, away from Cavender, but he stops me with his next question.
“Ms. Maison. I couldn’t help but notice your place was almost totally cleaned out. Manager says you’re selling it soon. Where are you headed if that house in the Quarter isn’t yours?”
Magnolia turns her head just enough to look at the detective. “None of your goddamned business, Detective. If you’ve got something to report on this crime, you can get my number from Carl or call Moses’s attorney. I’ll be waiting for answers from you about who the fuck did this . . . to me.”
Forty-Four
Magnolia
As Moses and I walk out of my former condo building, I’m grateful for the strength he offers. He’s not holding me up, but he is helping me hold it together.
Before this morning, I thought I’d seen it all. Because, goddamn, I’ve been through some fucked-up shit. I’ve been raped. I’ve been shot and left for dead in the worst way imaginable. I’ve even been in a fucking coma.
I’m a fighter.
But seeing those words—I’m coming for you next—written in blood on my fucking wall? Well, it sent a chill down my spine. I know evil when I see it, because I’ve seen plenty.
Now it’s looking for me.
I think of the card Celeste dealt me the first day I knew Moses was back in town. The Devil.
It’s not supposed to be literal. It’s supposed to be symbolic. But leave it to me to have someone literally coming to drag me into hell.
Maybe it’s because I’m no innocent. I’ve done so many things I regret. Fuck, I killed a man in the damn elevator only three days ago. Sure, that was self-defense, but can God forgive all that? I’d like to think so, but he and I haven’t exactly been on speaking terms in a long while.
“You okay?” Moses asks as we leave the building I never want to return to. There’s nothing left for me here.
I suck in a long, deep breath of fresh air, trying to get the picture Cavender shoved in my face out of my head.
My first instinct is to say, Yes, I’m fine. Takes a lot more than that to rattle me. But I find his sympathetic green eyes and admit the truth. “I don’t know what I am right now, but that’s some fucked-up shit.”
Moses’s expression softens as he stops on the sidewalk to cup my cheek. “You didn’t need to see it. And whatever you do, you do not need to be thinking about it for longer than it takes for us to get in the car, but you probably will.”
As soon as he says car, I remember the Lexus I left in the parking garage, and I grasp onto that thought because it’s better than anything else running through my head.
“I have a car in the garage. I don’t want to come back, but I need to get it out of here before I close on the condo.”
Moses presses a finger to my lips to shush me. “I’ll have Jules and Trey get it. You don’t have to come back here again. I’ll take care of it.”
It’s strange having someone have my back so completely and help me deal with shit, but like I told Moses, this is exactly what I want.
No, at this point in my life, it’s what I need.
“Thank you. Then I’m never coming back. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Forty-Five
Somewhere close by
I see them. Rage floods my system. I want to carve her up like I did in my dreams last night. That fucking puta killed my brother. Her every single breath is an insult to me.
If she were alone, I would take her right now. Make her fucking wish she’d never been born.
But him . . . he is a problem.
A problem I have to eliminate. Soon.
As they climb in the SUV, I write down the plate number and get ready to follow them.
I hope you got my message, puta. Because I am coming for you next.
Forty-Six
Moses
My blood is fucking boiling. Whoever painted that shit on Magnolia’s wall might think he’s coming for her next, but he’s going to find me instead.
I won’t let that sick fuck anywhere near her. Now that I’ve got her cooperation, she’ll be guarded like the Hope Diamond because she’s fucking priceless and deserves to shine in peace.
As we pull away from the building, I hold Magnolia’s hand, but my attention is on the road and my rearview mirror. With a threat like that, details matter, and I’m not going to miss a single one.
If I were sick and twisted—which I’m fucking not—and I was expecting to find my prey in her place but found it empty instead, I’d want to know where the fuck she went. Which means I’d expect her to come assess the damage, and I’d be waiting to follow her home. That’s exactly what’s not going to happen.
“We’re gonna take the long way back, mama. Just to be safe.”
Magnolia looks over at me from the passenger seat of the SUV. “You think whoever did that will follow us?”
“It’s a real possibility, and I’m not taking any chances. Not with you. Not ever again.”
A ghost of a smile crosses her lips. “Thank you.”
I press a few buttons on my phone, and Jules answers on the first ring.
“Hey, boss. Get any answers?”
I wish we had. “No, but we got a fuck of a lot more questions. Trey with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Put me on speaker.”
“You got us both now,” Jules says.
“All right, listen up. Trey—I need you to dig faster and harder. Whoever the asshole was who bled out in the elevator, Ricardo What’s-his-fucking-name? There’s a damn good chance that someone’s looking to avenge his death. And somehow, I don’t fucking know how, that someone has figured out Mags was responsible.”
“Fuck,” Trey and Jules whisper in tandem.
“Exactly. We need friends, family, associates, everything you can possibly find so we can figure out who it is and stop him. Or, if I’m wrong and this is unrelated, we need to figure out who the hell else could be targeting her and why.”
“I’m on it,” Trey says with absolute confidence in his tone.
“Good. We also gotta take into account the possibility that if the elevator dude was erased, his family might’ve been too.” I don’t have to go into detail; they know the drill. “You know where to look.”
“Yeah, I’ll dig in every direction. If there’s someone out there who wants vengeance—for any reason—I’ll find them.”
“Perfect. Jules—Mags has a car at the condo building. We’re going to get you her keys, and you’re going to get over there and move it. Stash it somewhere else. Make sure you’re not followed.”
“You think whoever broke into the condo is following you?” Jules asks.
“He didn’t just break in. I’ll give you the details later,” I say, not wanting to bring it up again in front of Magnolia.
But I should have known she was stronger than that.
“He wrote I’m coming for you next on my wall. In blood,” she says, her voice steady. “He’s definitely looking for me.”
“Fuck,” Trey whispers again. “That is so fucked up. Okay, I’ll dig deep. You need me, you holler.”
“Thank you both. We’ll be back once I’m sure we don’t have a tail.”
“What if you do?” Jules asks, his concern clear. “You want me ready to intercept?”
I glance over at Magnolia sitting next to me. I want this asshole dead before the sun sets, but I’m not willing to do it in any way that puts her in danger.
Could Jules handle it by himself? Depends on who the guy is and what he’s packing. Revenge is a hell of a motivator, and I don’t want to send Jules into a fight until we know what—or who—we’re dealing with. That’s not shit you do to family if you can avoid it.
“If he’s following us, then I’ll get the make, model, and plate. We’ll go after him and take him out when he doesn’t expect it.” It’s the best I can do on the fly with so many unknowns looming, and trying to keep everyone who matters to me breathing.
“Got it, boss. Call if you have any trouble. I’m ready.”
“We’ll see you soon, and then it’s time to lock shit down and get our strategy together.”
I hang up the call and glance at Magnolia again.
“This is serious, isn’t it?” she asks.
“Because you’re involved, it’s serious as a motherfucking heart attack. But for now, we’re just going for a drive to see how smart this asshole is.”
As we ride past the World War II Museum, I spot a black Ford Fusion staying three or four cars behind us. He’s followed me through a few turns, and now I’ve got a lock on him. With Magnolia beside me scanning every alley and side street, I’ve got a choice to make.
Do I tell her or not?
I recall what she said to me this morning. “That’s what I want, Moby. I want a partner.”
What the hell kind of partner am I if I don’t trust her too? Not the kind I want to be.
Gripping the wheel, I say, “I’m pretty sure we’ve got ourselves a tail.”
Her head swivels to me and then right back to the sideview mirror. “Which car?”
“Black Ford Fusion. Three cars back.”
She nods when she notices it. “I see him. How do we find out for sure?”
The we in her sentence makes me smile despite the situation.
“I’m gonna whip a U-turn at the next intersection, and try to get a look at him and see if we can catch his plate going the other way.”
Magnolia reaches into her purse and pulls out a pen. “I’m fucking ready. This bastard’s going down.”
“That’s my girl. All right. Hold on. Here we go.”
Even as I change lanes, I know this is a long shot, but it’s as much as I’m willing to do with Magnolia in the car. Keeping her safe is priority number one, and that means not taking too many risks. Just a few.
At the next green light, I whip the car around and punch it.
“Sunglasses. Hat. He’s ducking. Doesn’t want to be seen,” Magnolia says as we drive by him.
“Good girl. Get ready for the plate.” I cut off a car that slams on the horn.
“JQ2009. I got it,” she says with a note of triumph in her voice as she scribbles down the tag number.
Magnolia’s gaze is glued to the sideview mirror. “He’s not following us. He knows we spotted him. Fucker.” She faces me. “Should we call Trey with the plate?”
I can’t help but smile as we pass tree-lined streets and people on the sidewalks. This isn’t what I pictured for us when I came back, but even a shitty day with Magnolia is better than a good day without her. Still, she’s beside me now, so things could be much worse. It doesn’t hurt that at least I know nothing’s happening to her on my watch.
“Yeah, mama. Let’s do that. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll get lucky today after all.”
She reaches across the center console of the SUV and threads her fingers through mine. “Feels like we already did.”
I totally fucking agree.
Forty-Seven
Magnolia
“You ready to go home?” Moses asks, and my heart does a squeezing thing it hasn’t done in a long, long time.
Home. With Moses.
Damn, that sounds good.
Then I remember I don’t have anything at all there to wear, or my makeup, or my face shit.
“Yeah, but now that we’ve lost the tail, can we go get my stuff? If I’m staying with you, I’m gonna need it.”
“Shit. Yeah. Of course. I should’ve thought of that.” Moses glances over, heat in his eyes. “But then again, the idea of you wearing only my clothes has a real strong appeal to it.”