by Meghan March
Jules and Trey both grin because they’ve heard this story before.
“No shit?” Magnolia says, curiosity stamped on her pretty features.
“Yeah. He, uh . . .” I squint toward the baby, not sure I should be adding the last piece of the story.
“She doesn’t understand what you’re saying, so go ahead,” Keira tells me.
“Well, he found an unrecognizable body that was his height and weight and coloring, and made sure his wallet was in the pocket and his signet ring on the finger. Left it in his house, which was flooded.”
“What was he running from?” Mount asks.
“Alimony payments,” I say with a snicker. “Bastard had an ex-wife who hated his guts and swore she’d never, ever remarry because she wanted that check from him every month. He was sick and tired of working his ass off only to pay her a huge chunk of the money. So he decided to run and start over.”
Keira bursts into laughter. “Leave it to a man to decide that faking his own death was better than paying his ex-wife.”
As everyone at the table laughs along with her, several people come out of the door I assume leads to the kitchen, carrying massive platters of food that fill the air with the scent of Creole cuisine. For the most part, conversation stays remarkably light for the remainder of the meal, and just seeing Magnolia relax and fucking breathe easy for a few minutes feeds me in ways the plates upon plates of food could never do.
After dinner is cleared away and Keira is lifting the baby out of her seat, Mount shifts toward me.
“Join me in the library for a drink,” he says, not a request so much as a command.
Instead of agreeing immediately, I glance over at Magnolia.
Keira jumps in and says, “Mags, I’d love to steal you away for a few minutes too. I just need to put Rory down first.”
Magnolia pushes her chair away from the table. “I’ll help you with your baby girl. I could use an impossibly sweet distraction.”
As the women rise, Mount kisses his daughter good night and says something to his wife.
I toss my napkin down on the table and stretch. As soon as I do, I remember the box of shit I took from Ortiz’s apartment.
“Jules. Trey. Go through the box I took from Ricardo’s apartment. See what you can find. There was a picture of him and another kid, a similar-looking older one. Could be a brother.”
Trey’s eyes light up. “If it’s a decent picture, I can age the guy up and get an idea of what he might look like now. It’d at least give us something to run through facial recognition to find out where he might be now. If that’s who’s doing this.”
Mount’s attention follows the conversation between me and Trey. “Do it. No matter who he is, we’ll find him and bring him in. Even if he’s not the person behind this, he might be able to give us intel on who is. I can be very persuasive.”
Trey opens his mouth to reply, but closes it before he says a word. I can only imagine he was going to say something like, “You think we’ll be able to find him?” or “Do you think he’ll really tell us anything?” But Trey clearly remembered whose table he’s sitting at. Our operation may be smooth and sophisticated when we’re running normally, but Mount and his empire are on a whole different level.
“Good plan,” Trey says instead.
Mount rises from the table and heads for the door, not waiting to see if I’m following him. I give both Trey and Jules a chin lift. I don’t need to say anything more, because they know what the goal is here.
Magnolia safe. End of story.
I trail Mount out of the room, through his maze of hallways, and into the library where I met with him before. He goes to the sideboard and pours us both a drink without asking my preference. Naturally, in this house, Seven Sinners whiskey is always the liquor of choice.
After he pours three fingers in two tumblers, Mount hands me one and then settles in one of the leather armchairs. I take the other.
“How bad was it?” he asks after taking a sip.
“Desiree?”
He doesn’t correct me, which is answer enough.
“Fucked up. Really fucked up. Shit I never wanted to see and hope never to again.”
His face is grim. “She was tortured?”
I find it hard to swallow the smooth liquid with visions of the scene in my mind. “Yes. And it wasn’t quick.”
A muscle ticks in Mount’s jaw. “If he gets his hands on Magnolia—”
“He won’t.” I cut him off with a hard stare. “Not gonna fucking happen.”
“Then we find him,” Mount says, nodding in agreement. “Whatever it takes. This is my city, and he’s trespassing.”
“Trey will age up the picture I found, and we’ll hope like hell we’re looking for the other kid in it. There’s a good chance the guy we’re chasing is a ghost too, though. Ortiz was erased, and well. It stands to reason his family—if that’s who the other kid is in the picture—might’ve been too.”
Mount sips his whiskey and studies me. “If he’s been erased, then there’s a reason why. He has enemies who want him dead. That may be something we can use.”
I stare down at my whiskey, my ego wanting to jump in and remind him that no one touches this motherfucker but me. I want to kill him myself—with my bare hands—for what he’s done to Magnolia and her life. But it doesn’t matter.
At the end of the day, I just want the motherfucker dead. I want her free of the fear that’s dogging her. I want to make all the bad in her world disappear. Guess it’s a damn good thing I’m the best at making people vanish into thin air.
“Whatever it takes,” I tell the man across from me. “I want him ended.”
Mount leans back in his chair. “I was surprised when you came here and declared your intentions. Fifteen years is a long time to be away and then try to come back and make something work. But it seems like you’re not having any trouble on that front, despite my slight, and quite necessary, interference.”
A half laugh slips past the smoky flavor on my lips. “Yeah, you really tried to fuck that up for me. Thanks.”
One corner of his sly mouth turns up. “Magnolia’s important to my wife. I decided truth was important for her too. You seem to have overcome the obstacle just fine.”
I could strangle the man for what he did and how he did it, but he’s right—I am glad it’s out in the open now. Glad I don’t have anything more to hide from her.
“It hasn’t all been smooth, but we have an understanding now. She knows I’m back for her, and I’m not fucking around.”
“What are your plans after we get this matter settled?”
The way Mount refers to the man who has been terrorizing Magnolia makes it sound like he’s decided it’ll be handled with little to no effort. I hope like hell he’s right. His question, though . . . he’s fishing for information, and I’m not ready to give it to him. Mount turns information into a weapon, and he doesn’t need any more to use against me.
“I’ll be talking to Magnolia about those plans when the time is right. I’m sure you’ll hear about them one way or another.”
Mount’s brows lift, and a curious stare sharpens on me. “You’re suddenly less forthcoming with your information.”
“There are some things even the all-powerful Lachlan Mount doesn’t need to know first.”
He sips his whiskey, studying me. “You’ve come a long way from the Biloxi gangster who pulled a job in my town without my permission. I have to say, Moses, I’m impressed, and that doesn’t happen often. Your business is a strong one, a necessary service in the world you and I live in. Are you planning to continue operating after this is all settled?”
I think about the reputation I’ve built and the clients who get referred to me, needing help. Then there’s Magnolia. I don’t want her to live a nomadic life that she didn’t choose for herself—if it’s not what she wants.
“I don’t know yet. That will be another discussion between me and Mags. I can give her whatever life sh
e wants, and I’ll let her choose.”
Mount swirls the whiskey in his glass. “I approve. Although, selfishly, I hope you stay in business. You never know when someone will need a skill set like yours. Let’s just hope you don’t need to use it for yourself and Magnolia by the time this is all over.”
I hear what he’s saying, but then again, after what Magnolia and I have both been through in our lives, disappearing together doesn’t sound like a bad plan at all.
Seventeen
Magnolia
It’s not the first time I’ve watched Keira put Rory to bed, but just like the others, I’m struck by how badly I want to have that.
How the hell are you going to know what to do with a baby? Ho-It-All picks the worst times to show up and ask hard questions, and she also knows how to go for the jugular.
Keira steps away from the crib and comes toward me, standing near the doorway to Rory’s room. She grins and tiptoes, motioning for me to step into the connecting parlor with her. She closes the door noiselessly and waits while holding her breath. When she hears only silence, she grins.
“Thank God. I swear the girl hates sleep. She always wants to be awake and busy—especially if her daddy is anywhere near.”
With my insecurities riding high, I ask my friend, “Did you ever worry you wouldn’t know what to do with a kid? That you wouldn’t know how to be a mom?”
Keira’s attention cuts to my face, and although she can’t read what she sees there, her expression softens. “Come on, let’s sit down. I’ll tell you all about how terrified I was that I wouldn’t have a clue what to do with a baby, and how worried I still get about screwing her up for life.”
She leads me to a pair of gold club chairs set up in front of an ancient fireplace that is more likely to spin around into a secret passage than to ever hold a fire in its grate.
Skeptically, I ask, “You’re really worried about not knowing what to do with her? But you . . . you had, like, the perfect childhood. Great parents. Everything.”
Keira tucks her feet under herself in a chair, and I take the one across from her. “And you’re scared that because you had Bernie’s voice in your ear—telling you every damn thing you did was wrong—that you won’t know how to be a mother?”
I stare down at my hands, which are clasped together in my lap. “I’ve never been afraid of much, which probably has been the root of most of my problems. But when I think about how much I want a baby, I’m fucking terrified, Keira.” When I lift my gaze, the soft smile on her face almost undoes me. “What business do I have even wanting to bring a life into this world when I know how ugly it can be? When I know how ugly I’ve been? I don’t deserve it. Maybe I shouldn’t be allowed to have children.”
Keira bolts out of her chair and drops onto the ottoman in front of mine. She covers my hands with hers and crushes them to get my attention.
“Stop that. Right now. That isn’t the Magnolia I know and love, damn it. You’re strong, smart, and a survivor. I don’t know how you got through everything you’ve faced, but you’ve done it and you’ve thrived. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, but when it comes to a baby, they don’t give a damn about any of that. All they want is love and protection. And you are the fiercest protector I’ve ever met, Mags. Don’t you dare let yourself think for one second you wouldn’t be an incredible mother. The fact you’re agonizing over it right now says a ton. Don’t you think?”
I release a heavy breath and then voice my other fear. “But I couldn’t do it here. How could I raise a child in this town, where I’ll never escape my reputation? I won’t have an innocent painted with the same brush. My son or daughter should never know what it’s like to walk into a room and have everyone know their mother was a whore.”
Keira’s grip tightens on my hands. “Then as much as it kills me to say this, maybe you don’t do it here.” She presses her lips together in a tight line. “Because I understand what you’re worried about. Aurora is the daughter of the most feared man in this city. At first, it terrified me that his enemies could possibly use her to get to him. But I won’t live in dread. None of us can and still have a full life. And I refuse to let my daughter grow up knowing that kind of fear.”
“Jesus, Ke-ke, I never really thought about that. Christ. How do you handle it?”
She smiles, her pride and bravery shining like a beacon. “We pay a lot of money for security, and it’s worth every last penny. And when Rory is old enough to know who her father really is and what he does, I pray she understands it doesn’t change who he is to her. She loves him unconditionally, and knowing my girl carries my blood, she’ll love him no matter what, and nothing he does will ever touch her.”
My friend is amazing and such a powerful force of motherhood. “You know she will. She’s her father’s daughter.”
Keira leans back on the ottoman and glances upward toward the heavens. “God help us, because that’s the truth. She’s going to be a handful. I already know it. And Lachlan is liable to spoil her rotten. You have no idea how much I have to hold that man back. He wanted her to have a pony for her first birthday. Not for her to ride, because he deemed it too dangerous, but just for her to pet because she thinks they’re pretty.”
Laughter spills from my lips, and I try to keep it quiet, knowing Mount and Keira’s princess is in the next room, and I don’t want to wake her. “So you put a stop to the pony?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, barely in time.”
“And what did she get instead?”
“That huge-ass bouncy castle.”
I snort out a laugh this time, remembering how massive it was in the center courtyard at her party. I’d assumed it was a rental. “Of course, because what else do you give a princess?”
When Keira yawns a half hour later after more chatting about Rory and being a mom, I stand and stretch. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed, Ke-ke. No doubt, that girl of yours will have you up at the crack of dawn.”
“God, yes. I miss sleep. Still. But I’ll see you in the morning. If there’s anything you or Moses or his guys need, all you have to do is ask.” She throws her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re here. It makes me feel a million times better knowing you’re in the safest place you could possibly be.”
Warmth fills my chest, and I’m struck by how damn lucky I am that I’ve got such a good friend. “Thank you, Keira. You’re too good to me.”
“Not even close. I’ll walk you back to your room. I’m sure Moses is already there, or at least won’t be too much longer. Lachlan practically has a sixth sense for when I’m tired and shows up as soon as I’m getting ready for bed.”
“Because he knows he’s getting laid,” I tease, giving her the side-eye.
She chokes on a laugh. “You might be right about that. Either way, I’m sure he and Moses will work everything out and have a plan of action soon.”
Eighteen
Moses
After I leave Mount, I track down Trey and Jules. They don’t have a suite quite as large as ours, but their rooms are certainly luxe and right next to each other with a connecting door.
Inside one of them, they’ve got all the contents of the box from the apartment laid out on a table, and Trey is pounding away on his laptop.
“What’d you find?” I ask as I stride into the room. It’s getting late, and my woman will be waiting on me.
“Two pictures of Ricardo and the other guy. From the facial features, they definitely share blood. I’m still putting the photos through some aging software and refining them. Then we’ll run the best one through facial recognition, like you said. If this guy is a ghost too, there might not be much out there, but if there’s anything to find, I sure as hell will.”
Trey’s confident, and with good reason. He’s damn good at what he does.
“Good. What else?”
Jules points to the knives. “He’s got a knife obsession, which makes sense why he didn’t take a gun when he went after Magnolia. Consideri
ng what happened to the other two women, I’m thinking it’s a trait they share.”
“Good point. So we’ve got a couple of guys obsessed with blades. If there’s anything we can run down on that angle, do it. Knife shows. Dealers. See if there are any avid collectors who match the aged photo. You never know where we might get a hit.” We can’t leave a single rock unturned. We don’t have the luxury of missing a single detail.
“We’ll definitely check all those avenues,” Trey says.
“Anything else?”
Jules shakes his head. “Not really. These guys move in the fucking shadows. It’s frustrating as fuck.”
“What did we find on the phone?” I ask Trey, who peeks over his screen, but the clicking of the keys continues.
“No number for a sibling. I did find a bank account, though. There have been monthly deposits for the last five years on the same day. Same amount. It’s like Ricardo gets an allowance.”
Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and there’s nothing like money to fan a flame. “Where are they coming from?”
Trey answers, “Offshore account.”
“Did you get the name on it?” I ask, my anticipation rising. There’s gotta be a fucking way to find this bastard.
Trey sighs. “Numbered account. I hacked their system. There’s literally no record of the account holder’s name. Whoever this guy is, he’s—at least so far—flawless at covering his tracks.”
“Or he paid someone who is,” I say, clenching my hand into a fist. “Whoever is running things with them is smart, one way or the other. But we’re smarter. Keep looking. We’ll find this asshole. I’m about fucking done with chasing our tails. What about a record of another Ortiz at the school we found Ricardo at?”
Trey shakes his head. “Tried that as soon as we realized there was a second guy who could be related. I found plenty of Ortizes, but I was able to follow all of them up until now. None of them fit the profile or were erased like Ricardo, so I’m guessing this dude didn’t go to that school. The pictures are the best chance we have right now, boss.”