Deal with the Devil

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Deal with the Devil Page 33

by Ali Vali


  The marina came into view and Emil slowed down so he could back into his slip. Cain got out first and helped Remi onto the dock. “Give Dallas my best, and if there’s anything else having to do with this business that’ll bury it once and for all, make me your first call.”

  “You’re a good friend,” Remi said, putting her arms around Cain as best she could.

  “One who cares about you, so keep your head down while your father and I finish our expedition. Jorge took Nunzio’s money, so he’ll keep coming until he finishes the job. Next time he’ll probably vary from his usual shot and make it through the head. I don’t want that on mine, so stay at Dallas’s until we take care of that.”

  Remi followed her to the cars, the click of her and Emil’s boots echoing. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?”

  “Stay inside and start on Marianna’s grandchildren,” Cain said with a smile. “That’s it. If I see you out, I’ll kick your ass myself.”

  “That sounds like a hardship, but okay. What are you going to be doing?”

  Cain opened the passenger door of the truck Lou had driven down and leaned against it. “I have the edges of my puzzle put together. Now I have to fill in the middle.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “You can’t see the whole picture until you fill in the middle. Once I do, it’ll make tonight appear tame.”

  Remi shook hands with her and closed the door once Cain was seated. As Lou pulled away slowly, something her father had always told her about Cain came to mind. Cain’s word was as good as a signed contract. That was why Ramon had done business with her. So Remi wondered what was in store for Juan Luis and Nunzio Luca.

  “Whatever it is, I’m sure they’d pick hungry alligators over it.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  “Are you sure he’s not in there?” Muriel asked for the fifth time.

  Katlin was working the lock, but stopped when Muriel asked again. “If you want, you can wait for me in the car. He’s not here, and after driving around with you for the last three hours, I can tell you a certain cute FBI agent isn’t waiting outside to cuff you and take you in.”

  “Is it a crime to want to be sure?”

  The door opened and Katlin laughed softly. “No, but if you step through there it is. From crack lawyer to someone breaking and entering. My, how far you’ve come, Muriel.”

  The apartment was dark and smelled musty, as if Anthony Curtis hadn’t been there in weeks. Though the place was small, Muriel could tell right off where he did like to spend time when he was home. A cleared space on the couch faced the television that was far too big for the space, and five beer bottles were lined up on the desk shoved into the corner.

  “Okay, we’re in. What are we looking for?” Katlin asked.

  “I’ll do the searching and you make sure no one’s coming.”

  “Should I practice my birdcalls as a warning?”

  Muriel closed the door and glared at Katlin. “That’s not funny. Go through the bedroom and see if you can find anything having to do with Cain, the family, or Anthony’s new friends, the Luis family.”

  “I’m sorry.” Katlin squeezed her shoulder in comfort. “Just relax and we’ll be out of here faster.”

  Muriel scanned the room to see if anything jumped out at her, but all she noticed was that Anthony was a slob, no matter how neat he appeared in public. The man in the pressed suits and shiny shoes didn’t quite fit with the condition of this place. She sat at his desk and tried to go through the drawers without moving too much around, but they were so overfilled he’d probably never suspect anyone had been there.

  It wasn’t until she called Katlin to unlock the top right-hand drawer that Muriel found any order to the madness that was Anthony’s life. There in neat files was what she was looking for. His bank records, retirement funds, and investments were in color-coded binders, and at the back were his social security number and birth certificate. For someone in law enforcement to have such sensitive information all in one place was crazy, but very considerate since that’s what she was after.

  Carefully holding a pen light in her mouth, she copied the numbers she needed in order, so she could put the pages back as she’d found them. When she got to the last folder, she fell back in the chair and was tempted to turn on the light to fully appreciate what she’d found. She rifled through pictures and meticulous notes of Cain and her schedule whenever he’d tailed her, all dated. The follow-up notes revealed different patterns he was working out regarding Cain. Most of them were from when Anthony was still with Shelby and her team, but the last ones had come after his supposed suspension.

  “Find something?” Katlin asked.

  Muriel held up the last picture in the file—of Cain the night she’d had dinner with Remi and Dallas at the Steak Knife. Cain was laughing at something Emma had probably told her, and Anthony had drawn a red circle with an x through her head.

  “What do you think this means?” Muriel asked.

  “Our boy’s got a bigger crush than we thought. What other pictures did you find?”

  Muriel took the file from the drawer and let Katlin flip through it. He must have collected most of the stuff when he was off duty, which could only mean that his hate ran deep. Katlin stopped when she got to a photo of Emma alone, or as alone as Emma ever was. She was standing outside Mr. B’s restaurant in the French Quarter, and she and Merrick were waiting for the car to be brought out. Emma had just finished having lunch with Marianna Jatibon, since the two served on a committee to raise money for Children’s Hospital.

  “Cain, I understand, but why this one?” Katlin asked.

  “The ones of Cain feed his appetite, but Emma has to do with his new boss. This one was recent, though, and Juan’s supposedly gone.”

  A car door slammed outside, and Katlin quickly handed the file back to Muriel and stepped to the window. Anthony lived on the third floor of an old building uptown, which gave them the amount of time it would take him to climb the steps to get out, since he was heading in quickly.

  “Put the file back exactly where you found it,” Katlin ordered, then set out to lock the drawer. That one had been easy, but the ancient deadbolt on the door had been another matter. “Wait a floor up for me,” she told Muriel, “and don’t come down no matter what.”

  She had unscrewed the light on the second-floor landing and heard his footsteps slow down, but still the damn lock wouldn’t turn. “Great, it’s like some Hitchcock movie,” she muttered to herself as she turned the picks trying to catch the locking device until finally feeling the satisfying click.

  With her fingers to her lips, she stared at Muriel and stood just at the top of the steps leading to the fourth floor. If Anthony glanced up, he couldn’t miss them.

  She stood still as Anthony stopped but didn’t hear the sound of the key going into his lock. His breathing, though, was hard to miss. He was puffing so hard he sounded like he had run a mile as fast as he could instead of having climbed several flights of stairs. Then he slammed his hand into the doorjamb and laughed.

  Slowly, as if Anthony could hear the sound of fabric rubbing on fabric, Katlin raised her hand and stuck it in her jacket, resting it on the butt of her gun. The last thing she wanted was to shoot him, but she wanted to be prepared. When he finally unlocked the door and went inside, she brought it down just as slowly. It didn’t take long for the muffled noise of the television to filter out to the hall.

  Katlin turned to leave, but Muriel put her hand on her collar. “Wait.”

  “For what?” Katlin asked.

  “If he finds anything out of place, he’ll do it in the next five minutes.”

  After a while, Muriel pushed on Katlin a little, and they passed the doorway of Anthony’s place just as quietly as they made it down the stairs. If he did notice anything, he was biding his time and not running out to see if the trespassers were still close.

  “Are you going to the house, or home?” Muriel asked once they were o
n the street and walking toward their car parked three blocks away.

  “I moved Merrick to your place until this is over, so we’re going in the same direction, don’t worry. I want to wait until tomorrow to tell Cain. It’s late and I’m sure she’s in for the night. This will hold until the morning.”

  “But not much longer than that.”

  *

  Cain entered the house and stood by the back door waiting for her eyes to adjust to the low lighting. She’d skipped dinner when Katlin had gotten back from Bob’s place and showed her what she’d found after an extensive search that had included his attic. That’s where she’d found the boxes of VHS tapes of Dallas’s short stint in the skin-flick business. Sitting on top was the master tape Cain figured Bob had stolen to protect his interests. She’d given it all to Remi when she’d gone to meet her.

  “His cash cow was too lucrative to throw to the wolves that prowl the entertainment business,” she said softly as she opened the fridge. Bob and his dirty secrets were gone, making Cain wish she could solve all her problems so easily.

  “I made you a sandwich,” Emma said, turning on the light over the stove. “Have a seat and I’ll get it for you.”

  “No hello kiss?”

  She set the plate down with a glass of milk and pulled Cain’s chair out for her. “I’d love to, but I just finished throwing up and don’t want to gross you out.”

  “What’s wrong?” Cain put her hand to her forehead instantly. “Do you need a doctor?”

  “Hannah came home from preschool today feeling queasy, so I’m sure it’s whatever bug she caught there.” Emma kissed her chin and pointed to the chair. “Sit and eat.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine, but I feel horrible for Carmen. She made her mother’s chicken recipe and thinks that’s what did it.”

  They sat together and Emma watched her eat as they talked about their day. As they climbed to the second floor someone walked in and lingered in the foyer.

  “Problem, Muriel?” Cain asked, her arm around Emma. She couldn’t see who it was, but guessed it had to be Muriel.

  “Just working late.”

  “I’m not buying that. Spill it and get up here where I can see you.” Cain kissed Emma on the temple and patted her on the butt to get her moving toward the bedroom. “I’ll be in as soon as I’m done.”

  Face to face it didn’t take long for Muriel to tell her story. Cain was grateful she’d sent Emma to their room before Muriel told her about the pictures she’d found. “You didn’t discover anything that’d lead us to Juan?”

  “Not yet, but I got everything else you asked for, and someone to carry it out.”

  “Who?” Cain asked as she pulled her shirttail from her pants simply to have something to do with her hands.

  “Nick. He’s young enough and has the same physical characteristics. In an out-of-the-way location he’ll pass, and he’s not taking away anything. If he was, that might be more of a problem.”

  “Tell him to be ready tomorrow.”

  Muriel nodded. “He wants a more permanent job close to you.”

  “Nick’s a good kid. I’ll talk to him and have him work with Lou whenever possible, but he’s not ready for a spot in our immediate crew yet.”

  “He’s going to be disappointed.”

  “Disappointment comes when you don’t have a chance,” Cain said, echoing her father. “That’s not what I’m saying. Once he’s got more experience, he’s got a shot.”

  “The only one that’ll make happy is Lou’s brother.” Muriel walked with her down the hall. “He’s a fireman with no interest in the life. Lou told me it’s killing him that Nick chose to follow this path. He wanted better for his son.”

  “I can understand that. Every parent wants the best for their children, but he doesn’t—”

  Cain stopped talking and walking, and Muriel had to turn back. “Something wrong?”

  Without saying anything else, Cain went back down and into the office. The list of passengers was in the top drawer. She’d been meaning to call Hector Delarosa in Columbia to pick his brain, but now she had only one question to ask him. After Muriel told her about Anthony’s collection of pictures, she wasn’t willing to wait for the answer.

  With every counter-surveillance device turned on, Cain dialed the number. “Señor Delarosa, please.” She paused as whoever answered said something. “It’s Cain Casey from New Orleans.”

  She sat and indicated to Muriel to do the same. “Sometimes things are so easy it makes you miss them,” she said as she waited.

  “What’s so easy?” Muriel asked.

  Cain put her finger up as she heard a muted exchange on the other end. “Hello.”

  “Señor Delarosa, I’m sorry to call so late,” Cain said with the sheet from the airline in her hand.

  “Cain, please call me Hector,” he said in refined English with a slight accent. “I’ve heard so much about you I feel as if we’re old friends. What can I do to help you?”

  “From my contacts here I understand you and Rodolfo Luis were business partners at one time.” She picked up a pen and put a check mark next to every Juan on the page.

  “Until Rodolfo became too important. Do you understand my meaning?”

  “After meeting him a few times I understand perfectly.”

  “It’s of no matter now. Rodolfo has chosen to do business with the Luca family, and we will deal with someone else. This person has a bigger network of friends, which means fewer enemies for me to deal with. In my business it’s a better position to be in.” Cain accepted the drink Muriel had poured her, as well as the fact that it was Remi and herself Hector was talking about, and rested her elbows on the edge of the desk. “But I’m sure you didn’t call about my history. What else can I answer for you?”

  Drugs weren’t something Cain would ever involve herself in, but something about Hector made her like him. “My father always said that history was a good roadmap to the future.”

  “Then it is history we will talk about tonight.”

  “The story I’m interested in actually has to do more with Juan Luis than his uncle.”

  “Rodolfo will learn soon enough what a rabid dog he’s raised, and unfortunately for him it will be a lesson he won’t live to learn from. He punished his sister Gracelia for soiling his family name by taking Juan away from her to raise himself. That selfishness on his part has made both Juan and his mother unstable enough to turn on him.”

  That statement alone made Cain smile. Not over Rodolfo’s problems, but because Hector knew so much about them. “What I need from you is the name of the man who fathered Juan.”

  She hoped the silence on the other end indicated Hector was thinking.

  “He was a drifter, if I remember, since I only heard Rodolfo refer to him once when he told me what he’d done to him, but I believe his name was Ortega. Yes, that’s it, Armando Ortega.”

  Cain moved her finger from check to check until she reached the eighth one on the list. Juan Armando Ortega had used his passport to enter the United States the day Rick had been killed. Gracelia and Juan might have been unstable, but that didn’t equal stupid. That Juan was able to get a passport with that name meant Gracelia Luis had kept her lover alive in her memory, no matter how hard Rodolfo had tried to erase it.

  “One more thing, Hector. How did Armando die?”

  “That is one story that makes me cross my legs whenever I tell it,” he said with a chuckle. He gave her the details Rodolfo had shared with him about how he’d tied Armando to a tree and coated his genitals in honey before agitating the large red-ant hill at the base. “Rodolfo told me the ants devoured his manhood before he died, but they didn’t leave him alive very long.”

  “Thank you for answering my questions and for taking my call,” Cain said as she circled Juan’s given name.

  “I’ll be in New Orleans soon. Perhaps while I’m there we can share a meal.”

  “I’ll be happy
to treat for all your help. Good night.”

  “What’d he say?” Muriel asked as soon as Cain hung up.

  “Our rat has another name and he’s here.” Cain handed over the page with Juan’s name on it. “Katlin’s back, right?”

  “She’s in the pool house.”

  “Get her up here first thing in the morning before you two head off to finish the Anthony business. If Juan’s returned, and he is according to this, I want him found.”

  “Are you still planning to meet with Rodolfo?”

  “As soon as I’m done with you all in the morning.” Cain put her papers in the desk and locked it, slipping the key into her pocket.

  “Do you want me to do anything else with the casino deal?” Muriel asked. She stopped at the head of the hallway that led to the rear of the house. “With everything that’s happened we’ve almost forgotten it.”

  “Postponed, Cousin, not forgotten. Nunzio’s a hard guy to put out of your head for long, so there’s no way I’ve forgotten him. He’ll have to wait until I’ve squared Juan away.” A door opened upstairs, the quiet house making it easy to hear, and Cain expected to see Emma at any minute. “After Nunzio hired someone to kill Remi, it’s best to let Ramon deal with him.”

  “With no input from us?”

  “Of course not. I’ve been considering how best to dispense with this problem.”

  “You want me to handle our end of things?” Muriel asked.

  Just then, Emma came downstairs, put her arms around Cain’s waist, and said, “You better take a night to think about asking something that important, Muriel.”

  “You think I can’t handle it?” Muriel asked, not yet sounding insulted but at the cusp of her patience, from what Cain could tell.

  “I’ve got no doubt about that,” Emma said as Cain kissed her cheek.

  “Then what’s to think about?”

  “She’s talking about points of no return,” Cain said. “Up to now you haven’t had to answer a challenge like the one Nunzio issued by hiring Jorge. He tried to draw first blood and we’ve got to answer him.”

 

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