by Ali Vali
“Come in and close the door, Merrick. Emma’s sitting in today, so start talking,” Cain ordered. She pressed the button to make the bed fold up into a sitting position, and Emma went to her side.
“I don’t think that’s such a great idea.”
Cain’s dark brows hiked over her bright blue eyes. “I see. Emma, could you step out for a moment, please?” She put up her hand, stopping the protest before it came out. “Practice some of that trust we talked about. I said for a moment, and that’s what I meant.”
The door clicked closed completely before Merrick smiled at it and started talking. “Some stuff’s come up and we need to move fast.”
“Be quiet.”
Merrick whipped her head around, thinking she had heard wrong. “Excuse me?”
“I thought ‘be quiet’ wouldn’t be as rude as ‘shut up.’ Either way, I want you to stop talking and listen to me.” Their eyes met and Cain waited before continuing. “Tell me, Merrick, who is the head of this family?”
“You are. Why?”
“I am, so when I say something, I expect not to be questioned about it. Not in public, not in private. Do we understand each other?”
“She betrayed you once before.”
“And she’ll most likely make quite a few more mistakes in the future, but she’ll have a future with me. She’s here to stay, so you’d best be getting used to the concept. So do we understand each other?”
“I understand you perfectly, though as your friend, I hope it works out. As your employee I’ll keep my eyes open in case it doesn’t, and please don’t be offended. Someone blew up Emerald’s today, and I’m afraid it will lead us into war. If she couldn’t handle you beating the crap out of your cousin, then how’s she going to handle you ordering the necessary actions that are coming up?”
“If I knew the answer to every difficult question I’d rule the world, as they say.”
Merrick blew out a long breath as she glanced back at the door Emma had just walked out. “Look, I know what she means to you, but don’t let that blind you. I want what’s best for you, but this isn’t it.”
“I appreciate what you’re saying, but it’s my choice. Emma’s the mother of my children but, more importantly, she’s the one woman I haven’t been able to forget.”
“Then I’ll support you in that, but I’m going to censor what I say in front of her until we know for sure.”
“Just as long as you remember what I said. I’m the head of this family, Merrick, not you.” Cain held her hand up and smiled when Merrick shook it. “Thank you. Now go get her back before she comes in here and removes my spleen with a plastic spoon for making her wait. I promised her a chance, and it’s the only way I’ll know just how much of a chance we have.”
“Everything all right?” Emma asked when she walked in and sat close to Cain.
“I’m sure it’s not, but Merrick hasn’t had the opportunity to break the whole thing to us yet.” Cain waved toward Merrick and nodded. “What’s going on?”
“This isn’t funny, boss. Like I said, some fool blew up the club this afternoon.”
“When exactly did this happen? Did anyone get hurt?” Cain asked.
“Just before they hit your house. Dean and Paul were in the building,” Merrick answered. “They didn’t make it.”
“And Blue?”
“He’s fine. He was getting something out of his car.”
Cain took a painful deep breath and held it at the innocent-sounding answer.
“Don’t worry, I have someone looking,” Merrick said.
Emma put her hands up. “Could someone explain, please?”
“Blue is the manager of Emerald’s, and it’s just too much of a coincidence that he steps out of the building the second the place is blown to shit. There wasn’t a stud left standing, but he barely has a scratch on him. We have to check him out.” Merrick took a seat in the chair next to the bed and went on when Emma nodded in comprehension. “There’s more.”
“Of course there is. Get on with it,” Cain said.
“Muriel’s office was their next target after the house. I got a call just before I stepped in here. Thank God whoever’s responsible is waiting until the locations aren’t crowded before hitting them.”
“It’s a message,” Cain said softly.
“What, honey?” Emma asked. Throughout the whole talk she was just happy Cain was conscious to deal with the aftermath. She wanted to help but was smart enough to know she was out of her league.
“They’re sending me a message.” Cain looked at Emma, wanting to gauge her reaction to the reality of the coming weeks.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s no place safe for me to hide myself or my family.”
Emma’s hands flew to her mouth, and Cain thought she was trying to hold in the scream that wanted to come out. “What are we going to do?” The question sounded muffled.
“I won’t let anything happen to you or the kids.”
Locks of blond hair fell into Emma’s face when she nodded. “I’m not worried about that. I asked what we’re going to do.”
“First you have to believe me that we’ll get through this together.”
“I believe you. It’s just been a hell of a day.”
“Hell is coming, love, but it’ll take a bit of planning first.”
Chapter Five
When Muriel received the call telling her what had happened to her two junior associates, she squeezed the glass she’d been holding so hard that it shattered. She was sitting in Cain’s kitchen with two telephone lines going, having personally talked to everyone on her staff, from secretaries to file clerks, except for the two young attorneys.
Fortunately, the glass was the only victim of her Casey temper, and she hadn’t sliced her hand open.
“Just stay home tomorrow until we regroup. The files can be re-created from the backups in the safety deposit box, so stop worrying. Call me if you hear anything else.” Muriel put the phone down gently and pinched the bridge of her nose. She felt like hitting something, but now wasn’t the time for a meltdown.
“Who shot and killed the men on the street?” the detective standing in Muriel’s personal space asked.
“And you are?”
“I asked you a question first,” he replied, a smirk firmly in place.
“And I asked you one second. What difference does it make?” She stood up and took a step closer to him, getting him to take one back. Muriel was no stranger to intimidation tactics, but she was usually the one doing the intimidating. “Either state your name or get out.”
The slightly overweight man glared at her through slitted eyes before he acquiesced. “I’m Detective Newsome, and I’d like some questions answered, Muriel.”
“I didn’t realize we were on a first-name basis, Officer.” She rifled him a glare at the familiarity, making his dull brown eyes disappear further behind his lids.
“Ms. Casey, then. Who took out the guys on the street?”
“Our security people killed these men in self-defense. I gave someone with the police department all the necessary paperwork pertaining to gun permits and carry licenses. If you’ve walked through the upstairs, I’m sure your keen detecting skills deduced that we did not provoke this fight.”
His pen scraped along the notepad in his hand long after she finished talking. As a veteran cop he knew she could tell him precisely who had pulled the trigger, since each of the dead men had tight bullet patterns to the middle of his chest and forehead.
But this was Muriel Casey. Any information he would get out of her would be with a court order in hand. Like her infamous cousin, Muriel never volunteered anything.
“And I’m sure you know nothing about any identification these guys might or might not have been carrying?”
“If I were to send hired killers to someone’s home, I’d make sure they left their wallets and credit cards at home, Officer. Of course, since we have no experience with that sort of thing, I
’m only guessing. Call it pure conjecture on my part.” She watched as the smile came to his lips, giving him an echo of one herself.
“Of course.” He laughed. “And you probably have no idea why this happened, do you? Law-abiding citizens have crazed killers showing up at their houses all the time. It’s a regular citywide epidemic, from what I hear.”
“None. My cousin is a tavern owner. I have no idea why someone would want to harm her family. Maybe it was someone who thinks her beer is flat.”
The feminine laughter coming from the doorway made both Muriel and Newsome turn around. Agent Shelby Daniels, wearing a conservative dark suit with a light-colored silk blouse, leaned against the door frame with her arms folded against her chest. Both members of her audience took a visual tour down her body to the black pumps, then back up again, but Shelby cared about only one perusal.
“You shouldn’t stand so close to her, Detective. The lightning might take you out too when God strikes her down for telling such lies. I’m sure Muriel is way ahead of us already.” Shelby pushed off and stepped into the room, stopping a couple of feet in front of a smiling Muriel.
“Ms. Casey prefers not to be addressed by her first name,” Newsome said with authority. “And you are?”
“Agent Shelby Daniels, meet Detective Newsome, one of New Orleans’s finest. Detective, you best be on your best behavior now. The feds have arrived, and you don’t want a bad report on your job performance, do you?” Muriel said. She was clearly teasing, and Shelby brought a hand up to her mouth to cover a laugh she tried to disguise as a cough. “Now that we all know each other, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Agent?”
Shelby Daniels’s presence wasn’t a surprise since she’d become a fixture in their lives almost from the time Cain had met her trying to bug Vincent Carlotti’s plane. The head of the Carlotti family, and also one of Cain’s strongest allies, had wanted to throw Shelby out of the plane for the infraction, but Cain had intervened and saved her life. That encounter had evolved into innocent flirtations between Shelby and Cain, until it became clear to Shelby that Cain was off-limits for a number of reasons, starting with what she did for a living. Her cousin Muriel was another story, though, and Shelby found her incredibly attractive.
“Two explosions in one day? With all the excitement how, pray tell, did you think I’d stay away? Tell me a story, Barrister Casey.”
“Would you excuse us, Detective?” Muriel buttoned her jacket and started walking toward Cain’s office. When Newsome attempted to follow them, two men stepped in his way and refused to move.
“I’m not finished with my questions,” Newsome yelled after the two women.
A closing door with more than a few bullet holes in it was his only answer.
Shelby scanned the room with a critical eye and shivered when she thought of Cain sitting in the chair behind the desk, one of her favorite spots in the house. The amount of firepower the hit men had concentrated on the room would have cut her in two had she been sitting there.
“They did a number on this place, didn’t they?” Muriel said, breaking the silence.
“Who was it?”
“I don’t know, Shelby, and that’s as far down that conversational road as we’re going. Why are you here, really?”
“We’re here to help, if we can. The city has enough problems already without a gangland war breaking out. Trust me, Muriel, my team and I just want to help catch the guys who did this. You and Cain lost people today. Don’t you want someone to pay?”
Muriel pushed aside a pile of broken glass with the toe of her expensive Italian leather loafer as she appeared to think the offer over. “Ask the staff whatever you please, but I want to know if you’re planning to leave any surveillance equipment behind. Granted, closed warrants will cover your ass from answering truthfully, but if you lie the trust between us will vanish. You betray Cain and me, and I’ll cut you out of our lives.”
“We’re here only in an investigative capacity for now. How’s that?” All Shelby saw for a long moment was the top of Muriel’s head as she continued to stare at the ground and move around broken glass. “Who was sitting in here when hell broke loose?”
Muriel looked up at her. “What makes you think someone was?”
At the edge of the desk, almost as if Merrick had just put it down, sat a glass half filled with milk. Everything else in the room was in tatters, but the glass sat untouched. Muriel just started laughing, a heartfelt, belly-shaking sound that made Shelby join in without knowing why.
“What’s so funny?” Shelby asked, as she watched long fingers wipe tears away from the sudden outbreak of humor.
“I’ve never compared Cain to an inanimate object, but does that glass remind you of her? The room is totally destroyed, but no one touched this.” Muriel picked up the glass of milk and set it down next to her. “All my life I envied her the ability to just walk through the chaos and end up just like this—untouched and whole. Cain’s mother, my aunt Therese, used to say it was because she was touched by the angels.”
“As a wise man told me on a plane ride one night, Counselor, Cain was the reason Agent Barney Kyle’s hair was so gray. She was graced with more than her share of Irish luck, I swear. That was very true, though your comparison would’ve been more accurate had it been a glass of beer.”
“Nah, Irish whiskey is her favorite, but I’ve never known her to turn her nose up at a good brew. As much as I enjoy your company, Agent Daniels, I really must get back to my duties.” Muriel’s fingers touched Shelby’s elbow as she passed by her on the way out the door. “Have a good day.”
“Could I maybe buy you a drink later?” Shelby asked in a soft voice.
“Am I your consolation prize?” Muriel walked back into the room, with more than a touch of humor in her voice.
“Truthfully, your cousin was more a passing fancy, so no, you’re not.”
A low chuckle stopped Shelby from continuing. “The forbidden fruit, eh?”
“Cain is more like the whole tree, but you’re a different animal altogether, aren’t you?” Shelby watched Muriel cross her arms and lean on Cain’s desk. “I just thought that since you’ve lost so much today, you might want to unwind a bit. Once you’re done, of course. I like you, Muriel, and now, more than ever, you could use a friend.”
“Where would you like to go?”
“How about someplace neutral? The bar at the Piquant, perhaps?”
Muriel opened the door and waved, signaling that Shelby should go first. “I should be done by eight. If you like, I’ll just meet you there. We wouldn’t want your bosses to think any less of you if you’re seen riding in a car with me.”
“It’s a date, Counselor.”
The way Shelby looked at her as she spoke made Muriel feel as if the excitement in her life was about to begin, and bullets and explosions would have nothing to do with it.
Chapter Six
Cain had silently gazed out the window for fifteen minutes after Merrick had finished bringing them up to date, and Emma knew she wasn’t daydreaming. Like a master tactician, Cain was going through all her options before deciding on her next move.
“You aren’t leaving the hospital, so forget it,” Emma said just as calmly as Cain had begun ordering Merrick to call her doctor back to her room. “And before you give me any crap about it, you were shot two weeks ago. You’re an amazing healer, but that bullet collapsed your lung and did a lot of damage.”
“Merrick,” Cain said.
The guard stood up and left the room.
“Emma, I need you to listen to me, all right?”
“Forget it. You can’t charm your way out of here. I just got you back, and I’m not taking any chances on anything happening to you. You’ll leave here just as soon as the doctor says you can.”
“Deal.”
Emma narrowed her eyes. Cain Casey never gave up so easily on anything. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing. I just want to talk to the man. Lass, I
have to try my best to protect my family, so I’m not going to lie to you. I said I wouldn’t, and I’m not going to, okay?”
“We’re not going to be fine if you push yourself too hard and something happens to you. What about us if you aren’t here to protect us?”
Cain pulled her down so Emma was lying next to her with her head pillowed on her shoulder. “Did I ever tell you what my father Dalton said about the Casey clan and their place in the world?”
“I’ve heard a few aspects of this story, but I have a feeling there’s another chapter.”
“Ooh, I’d hate to think I’ve become predictable, but yes, there’s another one. My father and I were sitting in my granny’s living room looking at my granddad’s coffin, with an Irish flag draped over it. The rest of his men sat in the kitchen drinking and telling stories. There’s nothing like an Irish wake.”
Emma ran her hand in a slow circle on Cain’s stomach as she listened. It was how they’d spent many of their nights together after making love or just waking up together. Cain had also fallen back into their routine as she rested her hand on Emma’s hip, and she would stop every so many words and kiss the forehead so close to her lips.
“How old were you?”
“Thirteen, and full of piss and vinegar. Thinking back now, I’m hoping me mum’s curses don’t come true, since our boy is getting close to that age.” Emma laughed against her side, and her breath warmed Cain’s neck.
“Getting back to my story, my father stared at that casket a long time, but when I put my hand on his knee, he snapped out of his trance. He smiled and covered my hand with one of his big paws. ‘You know something, Derby?’ he said. ‘You’re a lot like my father. Not in looks, mind you, because he was blond and freckled, but in every other way. He was a Casey through and through.’
“These were the times I treasured the most. Just the two of us, alone, with my father telling me a story. ‘Why do you think I’m like him?’ I asked him.