Krewe of Hunters Series, Volume 5

by Heather Graham

  He didn’t have the right to swear such a thing, but if this man could help them, Brett would do whatever it took to see that he somehow gained legitimate residency. Even if he didn’t know the right people, he knew people who did.

  Brett nodded. He leaned back, slipping his hand over Lara’s as their waitress approached to see if they wanted anything else. He asked for the check while praising the food.

  “You all come back,” she said.

  “I always bring my best friends and clients here, Miss Marie,” Papa Joe assured her.

  Brett paid the bill, leaving a generous tip. He made a point of fitting the necklace around Lara’s neck once they were out on the sidewalk as Papa Joe cheerfully said that doing business with them had been a pleasure, and to please call or come by the store any time.

  On the way back to his car Brett slipped his arm around her shoulder, just as if they were a real couple, and she leaned against him. He breathed in the scent of her and reminded himself to stay alert, because danger could be anywhere.

  When they got to the car, he was surprised that she smiled at him when he opened the door for her.

  “What?”

  “Not so bad for a guy with a stick up his ass,” she said.

  He couldn’t believe it, but he was pretty sure he blushed.

  “Go figure, huh?” he said lightly, walking around to his own side. In the car, he quickly pulled out his phone and dialed Diego, who assured him, after Brett told him what was happening next, that the others would keep following at a distance.

  “Watch for our guy,” Brett told Lara as soon as he hung up.

  She nodded.

  As they headed toward 2nd Avenue and their rendezvous with Pierre, they entered an area where skimpily clad prostitutes plied their trade. He was glad that Lara was watching for Pierre, because it was hard for him to search the diverse crowd while driving.

  “I think that’s Pierre,” Lara said suddenly, pointing.

  He followed the direction of her finger and was certain she was right as he spotted the man carrying a sign that said Looking for Work and standing right where Papa Joe had said they would find him. Brett pulled over to the curb and waved the man over. Quietly he said that Papa Joe had sent them, and Pierre jumped in.

  “Drive, please,” he said, his English clear, but slightly accented.

  Brett quickly pulled back onto the street.

  “I am Pierre Deveau,” the man told them. “Thank you for listening to me. There was nowhere—nowhere for me to go.”

  “No. Thank you for speaking with us. Merci. Merci beaucoup,” Brett said. He looked at the man in the rearview mirror.

  Pierre was perhaps in his forties, lean and wiry from hard physical work, with strong features, large brown eyes and graying dreadlocks. He nodded solemnly. “We came for freedom, for better… At least my children do not drink mud for water. But my brother…”

  There was a sadness in his voice. Clearly he had cared deeply for his brother.

  “Please, talk. Papa Joe told us a little of your story, and we believe you,” Lara said.

  Pierre began to tell his story. He talked about coming over—about fearing death in the rough, shark-filled waters between the island of Hispaniola and the Florida Keys. When they had finally arrived, they had been lucky. They had reached Islamorada, a small city spread out over several islands, where they had found people to help them. Then they made their way to Miami and found a room in a small apartment that a countryman—who was in the United States legally—rented and allowed his illegal friends to live in. It was a run-down place, but it was better than what they had left behind.

  He and his brother had found odd jobs and manual labor easily enough; people didn’t ask for your papers when they needed yard work done or something heavy hauled away. They paid cash. Then he had begun working for Mr. Z, and eventually he’d gotten Antoine a job, too. He admitted that he suspected they were doing something illegal, but all they had to do was deliver bags to certain places.

  But then his brother…

  He’d seen his brother die. And he’d been grateful to their boss, who had offered to arrange a quiet, private funeral and promised that no one would find out that Antoine and Pierre were there illegally. There had been a priest, they had been at a real cemetery, and Pierre had seen his brother’s coffin go into the ground.

  “Do you have any idea where this graveyard was?” Brett asked.

  Pierre shook his head. “They brought us—my wife and me and our children—in the back of a van. No windows. We drove for about half an hour from our apartment. I don’t know what direction we went. Antoine received the words of a priest. I threw the first handful of dirt on the coffin. The man led us away.”

  “What was the man’s name?” Brett asked.

  “Just Mr. Z or Boss Man. I don’t know what the Z stood for, but mostly he liked to be called Boss Man. And he liked it.”

  “Can you describe Boss Man?” Brett asked.

  “Medium tall, medium size. He wore good clothes, and he liked jewelry. Maybe forty years or a little less in age,” Pierre said.

  “But not old?” Brett said.

  “No. Not old. And he was white, I think. Maybe Hispanic,” Pierre said.

  “Could you describe him for a police artist?” Brett asked.

  Pierre shook his head emphatically. “No. No police. Besides, I do not wish to die like my brother.”

  “Pierre, I can make sure you’re safe. I can take you somewhere right now,” Brett offered.

  “No. I have a wife, and a son and a daughter. I can’t go without them, and…we aren’t real. I mean, we aren’t legal.”

  “We’ll get your family right now, too,” Brett promised. “I’ll make sure that you’re protected by the police. No one, not even Boss Man, will be able to get to you. We need your help. And when everything is over, I’ll make sure that you can all stay here legally.”

  Tears sprang into the man’s eyes. “Papa Joe said so, but I did not dare believe. It cannot be.”

  “It can,” Brett swore to him.

  “I’ve heard such things before. Friends…the police make promises, but they are not immigration,” Pierre said.

  “Just say the word, Pierre. And give me your address,” Brett said softly.

  It took a full thirty seconds for Pierre to respond, but he finally gave them his address. Brett called Diego and passed it on, asking for backup.

  By the time they reached the run-down projects where Pierre lived, the building was surrounded by police cars.

  As they entered and went down a long hallway toward Pierre’s apartment, Brett sensed people watching silently through peepholes. Half the residents were undoubtedly terrified of arrest, he thought.

  Pierre’s wife and children certainly were, but Pierre quickly spoke to her in his native patois, his words so fast and clipped that Brett couldn’t hope to follow them. Within minutes they had packed up their few belongings. But then Pierre turned stubborn; he’d apparently realized his bargaining chip. He insisted that Brett also help the couple living with them.

  Brett winced, doubting his own power, but Matt, standing next to him, said, “Do it. I’ve already called Adam about Pierre and his family. If there’s any trouble, Adam will step in. That’s a guarantee.”

  Brett nodded to Pierre, and the young couple who also lived in the tiny apartment came along, too. No doubt everyone watching assumed they were being arrested and turned over to La Migra, Immigration, and that was fine with Brett. Boss Man was unlikely to go after them if he thought they were in police custody.

  It was almost midnight by the time Pierre, his family and their friends, Mali and Jacques Brigand, were settled in a safe house. Brett and the others all drove back to Lara’s house at that point, though he knew he and Diego should have simply gone
home.

  But Matt, Diego and Meg were talking about pizza, since they’d missed out on dinner and were starving.

  “I need pizza,” Diego insisted. “I can feel my belly button touching my spine.”

  “Then, pizza you shall have, if I have to use my badge to force Papa Giuseppe to stay open past closing,” Meg said with a grin.

  Brett realized they weren’t just feeling hungry, they were feeling exhilarated, because at last something seemed to be going their way.

  They needed Pierre. Needed him badly. They needed him to identify “Boss Man,” and they needed him to find out where his brother’s body had supposedly been buried, because that could link them to Boss Man. Police and municipal records should let them know where Antoine had ended up after his second death, though that was undoubtedly the city’s potter’s field.

  Antoine’s body might be the missing piece Phil Kinny needed to solve the puzzle of dead men walking.

  If nothing else, Pierre could give them a good description of Boss Man, who might be working for the man at the top or might himself be the puppet master who managed to kill and kill again with complete impunity.

  They ordered pizza, and Matt and Diego drove to the restaurant to pick it up. Diego wolfed down half a pie and then told them that he had to call it quits for the night. “Agent Cody may not need sleep, but I sure as hell do,” he teased.

  After he left, Meg begged forgiveness and said that she was going up to bed, because she was exhausted, too. Matt waited, saying that he would lock up and see that the alarms were set once Brett went home.

  Lara followed Brett to the door, where he paused and looked down at her. “Thank you,” he said. “We wouldn’t have gotten this break in the case without your help.”

  She smiled and stepped closer to him. He wanted to touch her, not to talk anymore. Wanted to touch her face. Pull her closer still. Wanted to kiss her. He focused on her mouth.

  “You know, it’s really late. I can just make up the sofa,” she said, breaking the spell.

  Matt was tossing out the paper plates, ready to follow Brett out and lock the gate when he left.

  Brett felt ridiculously young and awkward, which was foolish. He’d never been the love-’em-and-leave-’em type, but he’d had relationships over the years, a few of them serious, one he’d thought was the real thing, but most of his dealings with women had been pretty casual. With Lara, though, he could already tell that there was something different.

  “No, but thanks,” he said softly. “I really need to go home. Clean suit for tomorrow and all that.”

  She lowered her head for a few seconds and then looked back up at him, smiling. “Too bad. I feel really safe when you’re around. I mean, I feel safe with Meg and Matt, too. I just mean, if you ever want to stay here…you’d be welcome.”

  “Thanks. Before this is over, I may take you up on that.” Even as he spoke, he wondered if she’d meant her words the way they’d sounded. The way he hoped she’d meant them.

  She was even closer to him now. He wanted to forget talking, forget that other people were in the house. He wanted to escape the case by pulling her close, holding her, feeling her heart beat, warming himself at that fire within her…

  Okay, and also by ripping their clothes off and…

  “Gotta get going,” he said.

  She stood on tiptoe, her body touching his, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she said. “For trusting me, working with me, or letting me work with you, really. Helping.”

  Temptation almost overwhelmed him. He stepped back, burning.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, and called out in a voice that was far too husky, “Hey, Matt, can you come out and lock up the gate?”

  He turned and hurried to his car. He was careful driving home, watching to be certain that he wasn’t being followed.

  He was just as cautious when he reached his house.

  But he had no nocturnal visitors.

  As he lay awake, trying to focus on the case and not on the feel of Lara Ainsworth Mayhew against him, he wondered why no one had come after them.

  Was it because whoever was pulling the strings was smart enough to stay away from the FBI to avoid having the entire Bureau, plus local law enforcement, come after him, quite likely ignoring a few laws along the way? Or were they still so far from figuring it all out that the head of the web wasn’t even worried about being found out?

  Or maybe the head honcho wasn’t aware yet that they had found Pierre and were getting closer to cracking this case wide-open.

  Maybe they should all stay together, turn wherever they chose to set up camp into a real stronghold.

  Of course, he could just be making all that up to rationalize his desire to stay as close to her as he could.

  Because he wanted to sleep with Lara Mayhew.

  No.

  He would sleep with Lara Mayhew. And he was pretty sure she knew that, as well.

  He was smiling when he fell asleep.

  CHAPTER 11

  Adrianna poked her head into Lara’s office. “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey,” Lara echoed, looking up from her computer.

  “Is your friend still hanging around?”

  “Meg? Yes. Is there a problem?”

  Adrianna smiled. “No. In fact it’s kind of nice to know that there’s an armed agent on the premises. But that’s not why I’m here. A two-spot opening for an eleven o’clock dolphin swim just opened up. You know we frown on employees jumping in without making prior arrangements, but I checked with Grady, and he said I was welcome to ask you and Meg to take the slot.”

  “That sounds great. I know I’d love it, and I’m sure Meg would, too. She went downstairs to make coffee. I’m surprised you didn’t see her.”

  “I didn’t even pop my head in the kitchen. Anyway, just give me a buzz on the walkie-talkie.”

  “I will.”

  After Adrianna left, Lara drummed her fingers on her desk, surprised that she’d actually accomplished quite a bit so far that morning. Everyone was still talking about zombies and the grisly discoveries Cocoa had made in the lagoon. And even the mere thought of the lagoon made her think about Brett Cody. Made her think about what a difference time and getting to know someone could make. By any rational standard she didn’t know him that well, and yet she felt as if she did. She’d thought he was nothing but a rigid robot, good to look at, but as personable as a rock.

  And now…

  And now she’d nearly asked him to crawl into bed with her. She blushed at the thought of what she’d said last night.

  And how he had simply walked away.

  She gave herself a mental shake as she heard footsteps coming her way. Meg entered the office with two cups of coffee, and Lara passed on Adrianna’s offer.

  “Of course I’d love to swim with the dolphins.”

  “I knew you would,” Lara said, and reached into her drawer for her walkie-talkie.

  She let Adrianna know that they would be down as soon as they changed. Digging through her locker, she found an extra bathing suit for Meg, then suggested she leave her gun and ID there. Meg was hesitant about that, though, so Lara told her that there were computer-combination lockers down by the water, which seemed to satisfy her.

  “Have you ever done this before?” Lara asked.

  Meg shook her head. “No. I’m so excited, I feel like a little kid!”

  Adrianna never took more than six people into the water with the dolphins at a time, and the other four were already there when Lara and Meg got down to the water. They were joining a family for the swim, Mr. and Mrs. Latrobe from Lansing, Michigan, and their two teenage daughters. Cocoa was in the side lagoon with Destiny, an older dolphin who had been at Sea Life for years. The girls were obviously in awe.

 
“First thing we’ve done this whole vacation where they’ve really been excited,” Mrs. Latrobe told Lara and Meg as they gathered on the platform. “Dolphins just make people happy, I guess.”

  Lara agreed.

  The encounter began with a speech that Lara never tired of hearing. Adrianna talked about the founding of the facility and its goals, as well as the dolphins themselves. When it was time to get in the water, Lara realized that as wonderful as it was, she had been spoiled by her session with Rick when she’d had Cocoa’s total attention.

  Lara was certain that Cocoa turned on the extra charm for her, but she knew the dolphin was also the ultimate performer. She shook hands—in her case, a flipper—danced and towed their entire group. Alongside Destiny, she also spoke and retrieved toys, delighting the watching crowd. The Latrobe family all had pictures taken of the dolphins giving them kisses.

  The Latrobes were talking excitedly as they left, and Meg looked to be in total awe.

  As the others walked away, Lara heard Adrianna using her whistle and calling for Cocoa. She turned to see what was happening and realized that Cocoa had done one of her fabulous flips—right over the underwater fence and out into the bay.

  She didn’t seem to be trying to go anywhere. She simply kept doing her tail dance for them.

  “What is she doing?” Lara asked, walking over to join Adrianna.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen her or any of the other dolphins act like this.”

  Seeing Lara, Cocoa began to squeal loudly.

  “Cocoa!” Lara called. “Cocoa, come on.”

  Adrianna dived into the water, swam over to the fence and called to Cocoa from there. She turned back to Lara when the dolphin continued to ignore her. “Come in, will you? Maybe you can work your magic.”