by Ali Vali
“Get out of the car and keep your hands visible,” Cain said as she stood on the sidewalk.
It irritated her how cool and sophisticated looking this butcher was. All the illegal money Cain raked in went toward putting forth this image of someone who was always in control, and the expensive suit only extenuated that fake façade.
“Shouldn’t I be making that request?” she said, trying to ignore her indigestion caused by actually following Cain’s order.
“Detective O’Brannigan, why are you still here?” Cain walked in the opposite direction of the FBI van and spoke softly. Was she stupid enough to think Shelby and her team didn’t have equipment to hear her from space if they wanted to? “You do realize this isn’t going to turn out well for you, right?”
“Your trying to threaten me is a joke. The scar on your chest should be a constant reminder that the law has some cushion when it comes to people like you.”
Cain turned around and seemed to stare at the van as she nodded before continuing their walk away from it. “When you’re in the bar business you learn a few things, Detective, and one of the things at the top of the list is persuasive conversations.” Cain laughed and stopped again. “If you didn’t understand that—it means that when it’s your turn, you’ll know it’s your turn.”
“Listen, asshole, you’re a joke whose time is up, and if you didn’t understand that—it means I’m the one who’s going to kick you in the ass. Once that happens I’m going to come by and laugh my head off because I’ll know exactly where you are.”
“See you soon,” Cain said and laughed when Fiona’s phone rang, but Fiona ignored it. “Make sure you wear your ass-kicking shoes, but if you want my advice, you might want to invest in a more sensible pair. Give my best to your boss.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked and screamed the question again when Cain walked across the street and joined her family. She went back to her car and kicked the back tire a few times to bleed out the frustration. That Cain could bait her so easily pissed her off.
Her phone rang again, and she kicked her tire once more when she saw the readout. “Yes, sir. I can come in this afternoon.” Sept Savoie’s father, Sebastian, was the chief of detectives, and you didn’t turn down an invitation from him. “Fuck, what now?”
She made it downtown quickly since the streets were nowhere near their pre-Katrina traffic. In actuality, the crime in the city had declined dramatically after the storm, but it had nothing at all to do with better policing. The city’s mass evacuations had also swept away a lot of its criminals, so places like Houston and Atlanta were enjoying the company of those New Orleans could do without.
Fiona had hoped to be partnered with Sept, but she and some newbie Sebastian had set her up with were working a murder that had happened on the hallowed grounds of the best restaurant in the city. That a rookie had gotten that assignment had chapped a bit, but she still had to prove herself so she kept her mouth shut.
“Where the hell were you this morning?” Sebastian asked before she even made it into his office.
The question and tone meant Cain Casey had complained and Fiona would end up farther down the chain of command. She was curious about Cain, but that didn’t mean she didn’t hate her as well.
Chapter Four
Remi Jatibon stood on the balcony of her condo by the river and watched the boat traffic. The extensive flooding throughout the city had spared the new house she and Dallas Montgomery were remodeling, but her movie company’s offices hadn’t gotten off that easily. For now they were sharing what had quickly become a cramped space with Cain on the docks, so she missed the building where her entire staff had room to work.
“Hey, baby,” Dallas said as soon as Remi answered. The sequel to Dallas’s first movie had moved to South Carolina for a few months when the fucking storm had destroyed their locations around New Orleans. “It’s too early for a cigar so I’d better not hear any puffing.”
“I’m not smoking,” she said, going back inside. “I’m enjoying the view to take my mind off the fact that our bed has become a lonely place.”
“I know exactly what you mean, so don’t remind me. You need to get up here and put me in a better mood before I’m accused of being hard to work with.”
“Hang in there until the weekend.” She sat in the study and put her feet on her desk. “Mano and I are still working on new offices since it’ll be months before we’re back in the building, if at all. That much flooding is hard to recover from.”
“Don’t say no just yet—you love that place.”
“I do love it, so we’ll see. If anything, we’ll end up with more real estate. But I’d rather talk about how you’re doing.”
Dallas laughed, and the sound made Remi smile. “Oh, honey, you’d lose that rep of yours if people heard you now.”
“You’re complaining?”
“Are you kidding? I listen to all these people on set talking about how hot you are and how much they want you. It made me mad before, but now I know you’re mine and I’ve got lifetime rights.”
“That you do, querida.” The conversation she’d had with her parents and Cain about Dallas came to mind. Dallas, she figured, knew how much she loved her, but Cain had been clear. Sometimes a girl you wanted to build a life with needed more than flowers and pretty words. The purchase of the old Casey house had been her first step in that plan. “Aside from the crew talking about me, are they treating you okay?”
“Any better and it’d be nauseating. Don’t worry. I’m being well taken care of, but I’d rather it be you here coddling me. You can come, right?”
The picture on her desk of the two of them at her parents’ place made her truly miss Dallas like no other woman who’d ever been part of her life. “How about I come, pick you up, and bring you home for a couple of days?”
“I’d love that, but according to the director, the weekend is going to be full of early morning shoots. My afternoons and nights will be free.”
“We’ll work something out then. Don’t worry.” If the director hadn’t mentioned the change in plans, she wouldn’t ruin his surprise. A man yelling on Dallas’s end meant her sweet talk for the day would be cut short. “Remember to have fun and that I miss you.”
“I love you,” Dallas said, her voice as smooth and silky as a fifty-year-old añeho rum.
“I love you too, querida. Take care and I’ll see you soon.”
The line disconnected, and she swore the pain in her chest must be from some medical ailment. “Good Lord, I’m getting soft,” she said and laughed.
Juno Jimenez, Remi’s assistant, chuckled along with her from the door and shook her head. “You’re exactly like Simon,” Juno said about her partner and Remi’s bodyguard. “Love makes you strong, mi vida, not soft. You need to learn to scream how you feel from that balcony you love so much.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not running, and Simon’s not a screamer, but she gets her feelings about you front and center all the time.” Remi spoke in Spanish since Juno enjoyed using their native language. “She’s a hopeless romantic.”
“Isn’t it nice to indulge that trait when things are this quiet?”
Juno’s shoulders hitched up when the words slipped out, and Remi shook her head. “You’ve jinxed us for sure now.”
“No. I like Simon home like she’s been. That’s the only good that came from that damn storm.”
Their clubs had been shut down for a couple of months for remodeling, repair, and security updates. The studio was for the most part being run from the California office, so their partnership with Cain was the only thing still on course. They’d been enjoying the distracted police department and had taken the opportunity to stockpile inventory. Once things in the city normalized, they’d be set.
“We need to call Cain,” Simon said, walking in and going to Juno’s side.
“What were you saying about not jinxing us?” she asked and smiled.
*
One of th
e guys put music on for Hannah and Lucy once they arrived at their club Cain had named after Emma. The crowds had thinned since Katrina had devastated the city, but Cain had ordered the place open every night, and everyone who’d wanted a break from renovations was appreciative.
Upstairs, though, was why they were here. The offices of Muriel Casey, Cain’s cousin, were there. The adoption papers for baby number three were ready, and Emma wanted them filed. Cain didn’t like how much Emma worried about every little thing, but this was easy enough to get out of the way.
“We’ll file as soon as the baby’s born, and since we’ve done this twice before, we shouldn’t have any problems,” Muriel said as they signed what seemed to Cain like a hundred sheets of paper. “You have time for something else?” Muriel asked when they’d finished.
“Sure. Then I’ll take everyone to lunch.” Cain cocked her head to the side slightly and winked at her. “Lass, do you want to go down with the kids or stay here? Might be Muriel’s getting ready to bore me.”
“I never find Muriel boring, and innocent questions like that seldom are, so spill it, Muriel,” Emma said.
“I just got a call from Bubba.”
“The idiot brother of T-Boy’s, you mean?” Cain shook her head at the thought of those two. They couldn’t keep a steady job to save their lives but had a streak of luck as long and wide as the Mississippi for finding information she really needed.
“The one and only. He’s working the bar at the Hilton and spotted someone he thought you’d want to know about,” Muriel said, glancing down at the pad where she’d obviously written the gist of the conversation down.
“Don’t keep me in suspense, cousin.”
“He was waiting tables last night, and he swears that Nunzio Luca was in there, talking business with the pretty blonde that was always with him.” Katlin came in with a glass of juice for Emma and stayed when Cain pointed to a seat.
“The pretty blonde Kim Stegal, Nunzio’s right-hand woman, who I watched get her throat slit?” She flattened her hand on the table and exhaled. Nunzio was a cockroach she’d thought she’d sent scurrying into the night. “Remind me from now on that permanent solutions to problems will make conversations like this moot,” she said, looking at Katlin.
“Bubba swears it was the two of them, and they were talking to some guy Bubba thinks is moving product through that place. He doesn’t have proof, but the bar owner’s too flush in cash for it all to be from booze.”
“You never know, cousin. Booze is a lucrative business, I’ve been told,” Cain said, and they all laughed. “Our problem here is that Bubba is thinking, so, Katlin, send someone you trust over there and tell them to have a few drinks on us. If Nunzio has grown a pair and come back with a ghost in tow, we need to keep an eye on them.”
“How about you let us handle things so you’re free to take Emma to the hospital when it’s time,” Katlin said. She glanced over at Lou, Cain’s ever-present bodyguard who stood by the door, and the big man nodded. “Lou and I’ll check it out and keep you in the loop.”
“I’m pretty good at multitasking, so don’t forget about the loop,” she said, glancing back at Muriel. “Anything else?”
“The added shipments are working, and so far, we’ve tripled our inventory. Nothing like hiding in plain sight.”
All the supplies FEMA was sending and the massive amounts of building materials being brought in made it easier to blend in a few extra trucks. Once the city righted itself, they’d be ready to roll into the new territory they were making now.
“Good,” she said, and knocked on the conference table with her knuckles. “Thanks for taking on extra stuff, but we’re still not naming the baby after any of you.”
“Cain,” Emma said, slapping her arm. “Everyone’s getting an extra dessert for that comment.”
Cain nodded as she stood, but she locked her gaze on Katlin. If anyone among her family or on her payroll understood threats like Nunzio, it was Katlin. Her cousin had fallen in love with Emma’s bodyguard Merrick, who was still fighting every day to get back to where she’d been physically before Juan Luis shot her in the head.
“Listen to your wife, cousin, and you don’t have to worry,” Katlin said, as if reading her mind. “We don’t want to mess up our Christmas bonuses, so I’m not likely to miss anything.”
“I’ll double yours if you get me everything on my wish list.” Cain had figured Nunzio wouldn’t appear on her radar again, but she’d deal with him permanently if need be. She currently had her sights set on finding Anthony Curtis. The wayward FBI agent was in the wind, but he had no idea how persistent she was. When, not if, she found him, he would learn for himself exactly who she was and what she was capable of.
The phone rang and Muriel answered. Her conversation was brief. “Remi’s downstairs,” she said when she hung up.
“Good news travels fast,” Cain said. If she was right, she’d have to talk Remi out of killing him outright. She wouldn’t try too hard, though, if that’s what Remi really wanted to do. After all, Nunzio had hired someone to kill Remi to make her father Ramon more agreeable to the casino deal they’d all been involved in. It was hard to forgive a shot to the chest with a high-powered rifle.
“Let’s go to lunch,” Emma said, holding her hand out. “Maybe a plate of good food will calm everyone down.”
“Perhaps, lass,” Cain said taking her hand, “but I doubt there’s anything that good open in the city.”
*
Nunzio Luca looked out over the water in back of his father’s old house. He’d inherited it when Junior died from a bullet to the head and his mother had decided to join his grandfather Santino, who’d retired to Florida. It’d taken him a few days to find someone with the background he needed, but the treasure trove he’d discovered in New Orleans would finally be of use to him.
He and his late mistress’s sister, Tracy Stegal, had gone to New Orleans right after Katrina to beg first Emray Gillis, then Hector Delarosa for scraps to get back in the game, but things had changed once Tracy had disappeared. That betrayal he’d deal with once he found Tracy, but it was good to find out what a bitch she was before she really became an integral part of his team.
“Do you have everything in place?” Santino asked from behind him.
All the mistakes and bad luck were about to become a thing of their past. He was tired of being the screw-up and was ready for his grandfather to be proud of him. It was too late to accomplish that with his father, but Junior’s death wasn’t on his head.
“The meetings are set,” he said. He kept his attention on the water, wanting to memorize the view. His first stop was Mexico, and depending on how that went, it was hard to know when he’d be here again. His last trip to New Orleans had lost him Tracy, but he had found something much more important.
The original supplier he was set to do business with was Emray Gillis. That asshole had never materialized so he’d wasted time with Emray’s flunkies Mitch Surpass and Freddie Buhle. Mitch the ass-wipe had ended up decorating the dash of a car with his brains, but Freddie now worked for him. Freddie was responsible for the resurrection of their business and gave him the means for his revenge.
“Are you sure you want to bring Buhle with you?” Santino stood next to him and put his hand on his shoulder. His grandfather had come out of his self-imposed retirement to help him with all this. “I’m glad you found him, but he’s not the brightest light I’ve ever met.”
“Don’t you mean I’m not the brightest light in the family?” His father’s always condescending voice rang through his head. Even from the grave Nunzio could feel his disapproval just as easily as he could the sweat on his skin. “You can be honest about what you and Papa thought about me.”
“Nunzio,” Santino said as he stood in front of him. “You need to bury all that bad blood along with your father. Junior was my creation, and I loved him because he was my son, but Junior was also my mistake.”
“What’s that mean?” He w
as tired of lies and redefining their history when it was convenient.
“Junior was an asshole who seldom considered anyone but himself. He thought it’s what made him a man, but it cost him the love and loyalty of his son. I don’t want to repeat that mistake.” Santino put his hands on the sides of his face. “No matter where you go or what you need, I’ll be there for you.”
The expression on Santino’s face was soft and almost loving, two things not often seen on the face of any Luca male. He wanted to believe him, but like a dog whipped one time too many, he was skittish and simply nodded.
“My boy,” Santino said. “You’re all I’ve got left to carry on my father’s name and take over our business. I admire you admitting to being unsure, but I’m proud of you and I’ll prove it to you.”
“How?” he asked, not breaking away from Santino. The last time a man had held him like this and spoken so sweetly he was five and Junior was in a sentimental mood.
“By always standing behind you no matter how many times you turn around.”
“Good. I might need someone to watch my back.”
Chapter Five
“If I see him in the city I’ll kill him myself,” Remi said, a little too loud for a whisper. From the set of her shoulders and the bunched muscles in her jaw, Cain knew the news of Nunzio’s return had been a punch to the gut. “I need you to back me up on this.”
“You know you’re a part of my family, as is Dallas,” Cain said, letting go of Emma’s hand so she could cover Remi’s. Seeing how angry Remi was, Cain decided to move up Katlin’s visit to the Hilton for some quick information. “He’d gone home to New York, and I don’t know why he’s here, but I will. If you want me to drive up to Long Island and put a bullet in his head, I’ll do that too. You don’t have to justify why or ask twice. Our friendship is enough reason, so tell me what you want me to do.”