by Ali Vali
As they stood in the shower together, Remi held her under the spray and kissed every part of her face with soft, gentle movements. “You know,” she said when she kissed a spot over Dallas’s left brow, “if you keep crying every time we do that,” she moved to the right one, “I’m going to develop a complex.”
“I wish I could explain it better, but I promise, you’re not doing anything wrong. You’re doing everything so right I’m having a hard time processing it.” Dallas leaned back and ran her fingers along Remi’s collarbone. “Does that make sense?”
“You make perfect sense.”
They finished showering and Dallas borrowed Remi’s robe to head into the kitchen. Surprisingly, the sight of Emil sitting at the counter having coffee and reading the paper didn’t startle her as much as she would’ve thought. He was polite and pointed out where the mugs were so she could pour two cups of coffee. He stopped her as she started back.
“I almost forgot.” He held up a small gift bag. “I don’t know if Remi mentioned it, but I’ve got a hobby.”
Dallas blinked a few times but stayed quiet as her brain flipped through the possibilities of what Emil would find fun, considering he looked like a brick wall. Granted, he appeared to have broken his nose a couple of times, and he had a small collection of scars on his face, one thick one that ran though his left brow, but it somehow made him seem more genuine.
“Is that for me?” Dallas asked.
“I thought you’d like it.”
For such a big guy Emil had a soft voice. Dallas put the cups down and accepted the bag. Inside was a wide tan alligator belt with his name stamped in small letters on the inside next to the buckle.
“You made this?” she asked, getting a shy nod. “It’s beautiful, thank you.” Even though he was sitting she still had to tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I love it.” To her astonishment he nodded again and blushed.
“Morning, Emil,” Remi said as she entered the kitchen. “That color looks nice on you.” She pointed to his face.
“Leave him alone. You can’t tease a man who comes bearing gifts.”
“If you sweet-talk him while I’m gone, maybe he’ll make you a matching pair of boots.” Remi lifted her foot to show off her usual footwear. The black boots matched the pair Emil, Mano, and her father had. “You two relax and I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” Remi kissed Dallas at the door, then stopped a floor down to pick up Simon.
Cain had called that morning and wanted to review a few things she needed her and Mano to take over. She knew Mano had been working closely with Muriel to keep Richard in their sights until they closed the casino deal. Nunzio might have owned it, but it wasn’t his signature they needed when it came time.
“We’re not going to the house?” Remi asked when Simon turned right toward the Quarter.
“Cain’s at the Pescador with your father. She said she had an outing last night and needs a meet with Rodolfo.”
“She wants us there?”
“The last thing Cain Casey needs is a backup or someone to hold her hand. She wants your father to set it up since he knows Rodolfo better. If she has to talk to him, it’s about Juan, and neither of them have anything to do with us.”
Remi rested her hand on the top of her boot, since she’d pushed the front passenger seat all the way back so she could cross her legs. “I wouldn’t mind going to do both, if she asked. I’ve enjoyed working with her. Cain’s got a lot to teach.”
At a light Simon glanced at her. “That’s what you have Ramon for.”
“True, and his advice is priceless.”
The careful way she said that must have been why Simon laughed. “But? I have a feeling that’s what you were going to say next.”
“Papi has been a great teacher, but he teaches Mano and me to do things the way he would do them. He told me when he decided on these mergers with Cain that I should pay attention, and I have. Cain might’ve lost Dalton but she’s sharp. She’s had to learn the business on her own, using the foundation he gave her, but you can tell she’s made it grow and get stronger.”
“Uh-huh.” Simon slowed as they turned on the block where Ramon’s club was located. “When Dalton was killed, your father and Vincent both waited for her to fail or ask for help, which in their eyes would’ve been the same thing. Cain proved herself, though, by walking through fire to keep her organization together. I admired her for that, and I think Vincent did too. You know your father did, or he wouldn’t be dealing with her at all.”
“I think he knows something I figured out when I attended Dalton’s funeral. No matter what happens in this city, Cain’s too smart not to survive. If there’s a war, the smartest play is to be on her side, no matter what the other guy offers you, because when the dust settles she’ll give you just enough time to see death coming. It’s that kind of thinking that Papi respects.”
There was space reserved for them out front, and Katlin waved to them as Simon started to parallel park. Across the street a news crew was interviewing what Remi assumed were the new owners of the building being renovated on the corner. When the car stopped she took her sunglasses off and threw them on the dash, not wanting to have to carry them.
She opened her door as Simon opened the driver’s side, and as soon as she stood up straight something flashed momentarily, making her glance up and to the right.
The single shot from the high-powered rifle was so deafening that everyone on the street stopped what they were doing. Simon heard Remi slam into the side of the car from the force of the impact. The scene seemed surreal to Simon as she watched Remi go down from a single shot that had hit her square in the chest. She ran without thinking to the other side of the car to see if she was alive, not caring that it put her in the line of fire. Katlin had drawn her gun and was scanning the area across from them, trying to spot the shooter.
“Oh my God,” Simon heard the reporter across the street scream as the cameraman moved closer. “Who’s that?”
“Katlin, help me,” Simon ordered. Working together they picked Remi up and laid her across the back seat. “Tell Ramon,” was all she could get out before she jumped behind the wheel and took off.
*
The television on the security guard’s desk was on as Emil and Dallas returned to Remi’s building after a trip to the grocery store. When Dallas heard the woman say the name Remington Jatibon, she turned her head toward the TV. Next to her Emil stopped and looked too as the small screen cut to the front of the Pescador Club. The woman reporter was going on about the tragedy they’d caught on tape, and Dallas started to shake her head as a feeling of dread washed over her.
“Remington Jatibon, daughter of reputed mob boss Ramon Jatibon, was gunned down this morning as she stepped out of a car in front of the Pescador Club. Jatibon was taken down by a single gunshot. She never had a chance, as you can see from the footage.” The picture changed to the one of Remi looking up, and then just as quickly she was on the ground. “With one single shot one of the more colorful lives in corporate America comes to an end. The family has offered no comment so far, but we will keep you informed.” The talking head droned on while the shot played repeatedly.
“This can’t be happening,” Dallas said, having to hang on to Emil to keep herself on her feet.
“Come on, Dallas, we can’t stay down here.” Emil dropped the bags and practically dragged Dallas to the elevator.
“You want these sent up, Emil?” the security guy asked.
“Call for Juno and she’ll take care of it.” Once the doors closed, he put in the key for the penthouse floor, then held on to Dallas. She was glassy-eyed but seemed in shock rather than grieving. “Once we get upstairs I can make some calls and find out what’s going on, but you have to hang in there. This isn’t a good time to give up.”
“She’s not coming back,” Dallas repeated, as if she were trying to convince herself it was true.
As they entered the penthouse, Dallas’s cell phone rang and she answered it without
checking to see who it was, thinking it could be news about Remi. “Hello.”
“Have you been in front of a television today?” Bob asked. “If not, let me be the first to give you the good news. The dyke is dead and I want you back in the house by this afternoon, if you know what’s good for you. I told you, sweetheart, we’re partnered for life and no one can come between us.”
Dallas dropped the phone and barely noticed as it broke in two when it hit the marble floor. She made it as far as the sofa before she collapsed and started crying.
Emil watched her and forgot about his calls, opting to sit with her and hold her. Since Dallas was pressed to his chest she never saw the tears that spilled down his face for the loss he was sure would destroy both Ramon and Marianna, but especially Ramon. His boss had been gifted with two wonderful children, but Remi held a special place in his heart.
Now that place was dark, and Emil was sure it would die away, taking Ramon with it.
*
“Send the money. It’s done right where you wanted it. Ramon should be able to give a proper farewell.” Jorge Cristo spoke into the prepaid, untraceable cell phone. He was parked on Canal Street, studying the map from the car he’d rented in Houston. Knowing someone might be waiting on his arrival, he had landed in Texas a couple of days early and driven in.
“I’ll wire it this morning, and since I’m getting to watch it on television, I might throw in a bonus.” Nunzio watched the smug face on the screen contort with pain again. He had to remember to send the reporter some flowers for having the good fortune to be standing there when it all went down. If his father needed proof, he’d e-mail him the evidence. Watching Remi die on the news was as satisfying as good sex.
Getting a blow job while watching the bitch die again and again wasn’t all that bad either. He put his hand on the back of Kim’s head and pulled on her hair to get her to slow down. “Take it easy, babe, I want to enjoy this.” He pressed the play button on the remote and watched Remi fly into the car in slow motion.
All he had to do was wait a few days for Ramon and Cain to get through the funeral, then make the deal. If Ramon refused, little sweet Mano would be next. He wondered how he could get that on tape as well, if it came down to having to call on Jorge for an encore.
“Oh yeah,” he said as Kim sucked harder just as Remi’s head turned upward in slow motion. “This is better than fucking to porn.”
Chapter Forty-Five
“I want that hijo de puta’s head on a pike,” Ramon screamed as Katlin holstered her weapon.
“Ramon, you need to sit down,” Cain said from behind the bar. As soon as Katlin had told them what had happened, Cain had watched the furor rise in Ramon, his face reddening and his chest heaving as if he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. “I’m sure she’s fine. You need to stay calm when you call Marianna. Drink this, it’ll help.”
“She’s fine?” The way he laughed, Cain was afraid he wanted to hit something, and she would have been as good as anything. “Didn’t you hear what Katlin said? The bastard shot her in the middle of the chest. Since we know who pulled the trigger, it’s almost certain it was through the heart.”
“I considered that possibility and had Mano take care of something. You have to trust me.” The phone rang, interrupting what Cain was saying, and since Ramon still appeared to be in no state to talk, she picked it up. “Marianna,” she said, then took the receiver away from her ear. “What?” Cain searched behind the bar for the remote control. “Stop watching and call Mano to come sit with you. I’ll have Ramon home soon.”
She pointed the remote at the television Ramon kept on during sporting events for people who’d bet on the games. The station Marianna had told her about had returned to regular programming, and Cain was relieved Ramon would be spared for now. Later in the day it’d be the lead story, and he’d have to face the ugliness of what had happened.
As she went back to explain why she’d stopped to watch television, the phone rang again. Cain picked it up and listened to Ramon’s employee from downstairs. “Stop them at the door and I’ll be down in a minute. Whatever you do, don’t let them anywhere near the stairs. Cops love situations like this to get into places they’re not wanted.”
“What now?” Ramon asked.
“Katlin, get down there and keep the cops company,” Cain said first. “I’m sure the 911 system lit up like a Christmas tree after that cannon shot, and the city’s finest is on the case. They’re here and they want answers, since Simon hasn’t shown up at any of the local hospitals.”
“Why would she?” Ramon asked. He sounded like the rage had burned itself out and despair was starting to seep in.
“Ramon, go home and sit with your wife and leave this to me. I’ll deal with the cops, but before you go, give me Simon’s number.” She dialed the number he gave her and it rang three times before Simon answered. “Tell me.”
Ramon stood right in front of her and put his hand on the arm Cain was using to hold the receiver to her ear. “We’re headed to the spot we talked about,” Simon said.
“Talk to Ramon,” Cain said, and handed him the phone.
Ramon listened to Simon and his legs buckled. The phone slipped from his hand and he fell against Cain, sobbing. “Call me when you get there,” Cain told Simon before hanging up. To Ramon she said, “Get home and don’t make Marianna wait for you any longer than necessary.”
Cain took a deep breath and headed downstairs to give the cops as little information as possible. What had happened was over, and there was nothing for them to investigate. She’d take care of that. She walked down the stairs slowly to take in the bottom floor and see who’d drawn the short straw of getting the case assigned to them.
The group assembled around Katlin had their backs to her, making it hard to recognize the detectives. Since Katlin was her height, Cain was surprised to see the white-haired cop standing so close he could’ve head-butted Katlin. Obviously he liked to use his height to intimidate, a tactic lost on Katlin, who stood with her arms crossed and a smile on her face.
“If you have a problem with anything, take it up with my boss,” Cain heard Katlin say when she was close enough.
“Then get their ass down here,” the cop said. The voice stopped Cain on the last step since, while it was deep and rich, it was definitely not male.
“The ass is here, but you know me better than that, to have such a low opinion of me,” Cain said.
Detective Sept Savoie turned around and put her hands on her hips. The straight cut of the light gray jacket did a good job of hiding anything that would give away her gender. Smart for her choice of career, thought Cain as she walked over to her.
“Cain, it’s been awhile,” Sept said, holding her hand out. “I’d love to catch up on old times, but I need to talk to someone in the Jatibon family.” Sept spoke in a no-nonsense way.
“Sept, you were the same on the playground in kindergarten. You think if you bark loud enough someone will give you whatever you like, but that’s not possible right now. You can talk to me or you can sit down here and wait until the family’s available—your choice.”
“Our friendship doesn’t mean anything right now. This is official police business. Get Ramon down here or I’ll have a team of cops here in less than ten minutes and take this place apart, including all those nice slot machines nobody wants to admit are up there.”
“Ooh, forceful,” Cain said as she pulled out her phone. “Muriel, yes, I’m already here. Be here in less than five minutes. Don’t let me down. We’re under the gun since they’ve sent in Wyatt Earp.” The comment made Sept’s almost black eyes narrow to slits.
“It’s Detective Savoie, jackass,” Sept said with a smile that made her appear sarcastic without trying. “And you haven’t changed all that much from the playground either. You always thought if you make enough smart comments, you can get away with anything.”
“Calm down, Sept. There’s a huge line ahead of you trying to get me, and I’m su
re you’re as good as the feds.”
“Do you have any idea where Remi Jatibon’s body is?”
“No, I don’t,” Cain held up her fingers, “Scout’s honor.”
“You do realize she’s been shot?” Sept said, stepping into Cain’s comfort zone.
Cain had to cock her head back to make eye contact, but she smiled instead of showing any fear. To make Sept back down first, Cain moved forward in the little bit of room left until the tips of their shoes touched. “I’ve known since someone told me they watched it on television. What are you doing here instead of trying to find the asshole who actually shot her? Isn’t that the way it usually works? Someone shoots someone else and the cops go after the one with the gun, not the one who took the bullet. Why are you wasting time trying to harass the Jatibons or slow dance with me instead of giving them justice?”
“I already know how to do my job, but thanks for the advice. Do you know how I can get in touch with Ramon Jatibon?”
“If you have a court order, it shouldn’t be a problem to get him to come to the door. Since you won’t get off your obsession to bother the Jatibons right now, you can wait outside,” Cain said, and stopped smiling. “Good seeing you again, and tell your mother I said hello. At least she has a sense of humor, but I have a soft spot for people with absolutely none.”
“My sense of humor’s fine,” they all turned around when Muriel came in, “when I find something funny,” Sept said. “The day we finally put you away, I’ll be giddy. I’ll come over and play poker with you every so often, since I’ll know where to find you.” With a flick of her wrist she signaled for her partner to get going. “This isn’t over.”
“For once we agree on something.”
Katlin waited until they left before looking at Cain. “Now what?”