Beneath the Truth

by Meghan March

  “Maybe.”

  Again, the answer didn’t sit right in my gut. Heath was IA, and his department was investigating my father’s cartel connection. He’d taken himself off the case, but maybe they thought he was involved and getting too close?

  Ari turned to look at me, her eyes narrowed. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I don’t know anything for sure, but something here isn’t making sense.”

  She crossed her arms. “Tell me. We’re a team in this, right?” Her eyebrow rose, and I had a feeling this was a test.

  “Yeah, we are. But this team keeps Ari safe and lets Rhett do the stuff that could be dangerous. If we’re talking about Mexican drug cartels, there’s nothing that’s safe about this, which means half our team is on the bench until I figure out exactly what the hell is going on.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. This isn’t a game.” I met her gaze. “You have to promise me that you won’t go trying to hack into the cartel’s networks. Imagine the biggest, most lethal and ruthless corporation in the world, twist it up so it’s worse than even your nightmares can imagine, and then maybe you’ve come a tenth of the way toward understanding how friggin’ dangerous these people are. You don’t fuck with them. You do nothing. I don’t want them knowing you exist.”

  “But if I can find a connection—”

  I shook my head. “Absolutely fucking not. What they did to your dad would be nothing compared to what they’d do to you if you got caught snooping around. This isn’t a challenge, Ari. It would be a suicide mission, and I’m not letting you put yourself in danger like that. We’ll find another way.”

  My seriousness finally sank in, and she nodded. “Okay, so no trying to hack the Mexican drug cartels. Got it.”

  “Promise me.” I needed to hear her say it.

  “I promise.” She paused. “But how are we going to find out who did this to Dad?”

  I squeezed her shoulder. “You let me do what I’m good at—investigate.”

  * * *

  With the threat of a cartel connection, there was no way I wanted to leave Ari alone, and I wouldn’t have if Carver hadn’t been there.

  Something was off in a big way, and my gut said things were going to get worse before I figured this out. I was determined not to let it touch Ari, though.

  As I climbed in my Jeep and drove away, my mind spun with possibilities.

  First, I didn’t think my dad killed himself by wiring and blowing up their house. He loved my mom too much to be that stupid. That meant that someone else did.

  Who had the most to lose if Dad were formally arrested and possibly given the opportunity to make a deal? The cartel insiders he had information on, and possibly anyone else in the police department who was dirty.

  Any of those people could have done it.

  I put myself into the mind of the sick fucks I was dealing with. If I were trying to keep someone on a leash, keep them from talking, I’d find some way to threaten them, and wiring their house with explosives was pretty damn effective. But why wouldn’t they have taken Dad out to begin with? Why let him live once the investigation started?

  He must have had some sort of leverage on them. That was the only answer I could come up with.

  So, how did any of this tie to the Sampsons? They lived next door. Heath was IA, but not on the case. The connections were tenuous, at best—unless I was missing something. Now I had to figure out what.

  I only knew one person who’d taken on a faction of the cartel successfully, so it made sense to start there. When Rix didn’t reply to my text, I turned my Jeep toward the French Quarter and someone he would always answer.

  Fifteen minutes later, I parked my Jeep along the side street a block over and crossed the uneven sidewalks to Noble Art. A familiar face was wiping down the glass windows of the door where the sign was turned to Closed. She unlocked the door and held it open.

  “Well, well, Detective. Didn’t expect you to pop up around here. It’s been a while. You know my boss is thoroughly and completely taken by now, I assume?”

  “It’s not detective any more, but I got that. Trinity, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Your boss around?”

  “Not yet. She should be here any minute.” Trinity’s eyes narrowed. “Thought you said you weren’t sniffing around?”

  “I’m not. I’m hoping she can tell me where to find Rix.”

  “They had an appointment this morning. Should be here anytime.”

  Ten minutes later, Rix hadn’t replied to my text, and I saw why. He parked on the side of the street and hopped out to help Valentina from her seat.

  How the hell had I missed it before? Valentina wore a formfitting dress and she was clearly pregnant.

  Neither of them saw me when they swept into the shop.

  “Go to work,” Valentina said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “The doc said you needed to take it easy.”

  “And I will. But it’s not like I’m on bed rest, and Trinity won’t let me lift a finger anyway.”

  “But when she has to leave for class—”

  “I’ll tell anyone who needs a piece crated they can pick it up later. You don’t work here, so you’re not staying. Go do your job, and I’ll do mine the same way I did before your super-sperm knocked me up.”

  I stepped away from the statue blocking me from their view. “Congratulations.”

  Both of them whirled on me, but it was Rix who spoke.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Came looking for you, but I didn’t realize you had a lot more important things happening. I’ll find another way.” I wasn’t going to drag Rix into this after learning they were expecting a kid. I wasn’t that much of an asshole.

  “Oh no, not you too. Whatever you need from him isn’t changing just because I’ve got a bun in the oven.”

  “Duchess—”

  When Valentina raised an eyebrow, Rix released a frustrated breath. “Fine. But I’m bringing you lunch at noon to make sure you eat, and you’re leaving on time today. No working late.”

  “Deal.” She leaned forward and kissed him before turning toward me. “You get him into any trouble, Rhett, I expect you to get him out of it.”

  “You got it.”

  “Good. Now both of you, shoo. I have things to do.”

  Rix took one last look at his wife before she disappeared into the back room, and then turned to me. “You must need something awful bad to be tracking me down here.”

  “It wasn’t my first choice.”

  He led me out of the shop. “Don’t do it again. I got my reasons, and now you know ’em.”

  “Sorry, man. I wouldn’t have come here if I’d known.”

  “Crazy to think I’m gonna be a dad in a few months.”

  “Definitely crazy.”

  I followed him to a blacked-out SUV and the lights blinked.

  He nodded toward the passenger side. “Get in.”

  After I climbed inside, Rix pulled away from Noble Art. “You wanted to find me, and you found me. What’s going on?”

  I glanced around the interior. “You sweep lately?”

  Rix nodded, and it was good to know some things didn’t change.

  “Did you hear about what happened last night?”

  “To Skip Sampson? Yeah.”

  “You read the report?”

  Rix shook his head. “Haven’t been to the station yet. Didn’t plan to at all today. Once I get a look at the report, I can fill you in, though.”

  “Already read it, and from the descriptions he gave, it sounds like the cartel was involved.”

  Rix’s eyes narrowed. “Do I want to know how you got your hands on that report?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Guess not. But back up. Why the hell would the cartel have any interest in jumping a retired cop? Doesn’t make any sense. It had to be wrong place, wrong time.”

  “Do you really believe in coincid
ences like that?”

  Rix shot me a sidelong glance. “Fine. I agree it doesn’t seem random. But still, it could’ve been some low-level guys bored off their asses.”

  “Which is why I need to find them. Need to interview them.”

  “You’re not a cop anymore, Hennessy. This ain’t your case.”

  My hands clenched into fists. “You think I don’t know I’m not carrying a badge? It’s not something I fucking forget. Ever.”

  “Then why—”

  “If Judge Noble were found jumped in a parking lot, would you let someone else handle it? Even if you didn’t have a badge?”

  “I take your point.”

  “So are you going to listen to me? Because I need your help tracking these assholes down, and I’m not about to let Ari get involved. If her dad somehow got mixed up with all this cartel shit, I need to know.”

  Rix slowed for another stop sign and looked over at me. “So that’s how you got the report. Heath mentioned his little sister has mad computer skills.”

  “We’re not talking about that.”

  He laughed. “Got it. She doesn’t hack into police departments and pull up reports. Check.”

  “You really want to go there? Your girl was cool with dating the head of a gang.”

  The laughter faded and his expression sharpened. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Glad to see you take my point there too. So, you gonna help me or what?”

  “Tell me what you know.”

  It took me all of three minutes to give him everything I had, because there wasn’t much. Other than the fact they’d beat the hell out of Mr. Sampson and stolen his medallion, he’d only been able to give some crappy generic descriptions, except for the tattoos that were associated with one particular cartel.

  “I got an idea,” Rix said when I was done.

  Ten minutes later, we turned down a familiar street. If I’d been thinking straight, I would have come back here too.

  Chains, the pawnshop Lord Robichaux owned. It was a better place to start than Voodoo Ink because Con had banned all gang ink from his shop long ago.

  If these were low-level guys out for kicks, there was a chance they’d try to sell the medallion for a little quick cash. Lord saw plenty of commerce on a daily basis, and all sorts of stuff came across his counter.

  Rix and I climbed out of the SUV and headed inside.

  Elle, Lord’s woman, looked up from the display case where she was reorganizing jewelry as Rix leaned on the glass.

  “You leave fingerprints on that, they might be your last.”

  “Didn’t you hear you aren’t supposed to threaten a cop?” Rix said.

  She laughed. “You know I’ll always think of you as the scary mofo who convinced me way too well with your bad-guy facade.” She paused and tapped a finger on her lips. “I can’t decide if I liked you better then.”

  “You harassing the customers again, sweet thing? Pretty sure we had that discussion a few dozen times,” Lord said as he stepped out from his office, closing the door behind him.

  “It’s not like they’re here to buy anything. I mean, I could maybe guilt Rix into buying this super-sweet stained glass pendant that came in last week because Valentina would lose her shit over it, but I know that’s not why he came.”

  “What do you guys need?” Lord asked.

  “Information,” I said, finally joining the conversation.

  Lord’s expression didn’t change, nor did he seem surprised to see me here. I guessed word had already gotten around that I was back in town. “What kind?”

  “I’m looking for a Saint Michael medallion that got stolen last night. Gold, probably about forty years old.”

  “Whose was it?”

  “Skip Sampson. He got jumped by two guys who might’ve been with the cartel.”

  One of Lord’s eyebrows rose when I mentioned the word cartel. “You know I stay away from that. Don’t need that in my shop. They use Hector’s shop to fence their shit. They know better than to come here.”

  “It was a worth a shot,” Rix said with a shrug. “Let’s hit Hector’s next.”

  Lord leaned a hip on the counter. “You sure you know what you’re doing? Fucking with those guys would be a bad move. They fuck back with a whole lot of firepower . . . if they get permission first.”

  “Who gives permission to the cartel?” Elle asked. “I thought they were a law unto themselves.”

  Lord shot her a pointed look. “No one you need to know about, because he doesn’t exist for you.”

  “Who?” she demanded with a glare.

  Lord didn’t have to say his name. Rix and I knew who he was talking about. Everyone did, but they didn’t talk about him . . . a man who lived in the shadows but had his hands in everything that happened in this city. I knew exactly where I needed to go next.

  “We’ll get out of your way. See you around, Lord.”

  “I heard you’ve got a girlfriend now. Word on the street is you took Heath Sampson’s sister on a date last night to the Distillery. Your old partner, Mac, was in here this morning on another case, and mentioned his wife was there last night with her sister and saw you both.”

  I had to suppress a sigh. I swear, men gossip way more than women.

  Rix turned to me. “You’re dating Sampson’s sister? For real?”

  It wasn’t like I was keeping it a secret. “Yeah. You’ll be seeing more of her.” To Elle, I added, “She doesn’t have a lot of friends in town, but I don’t know if I trust your crew not to scare her away.”

  “Oh, hush. We don’t scare anyone away. We welcome them into the fold. What’s her number? When can we meet her? How long is she staying? Does she like Thai food? We’re going later this week.”

  Lord wrapped an arm around her chest and pulled her back against him. “Let the man talk and maybe you’ll get a few more answers.” He dropped a kiss on her red hair like he couldn’t resist, and he sure as fuck didn’t care who was watching.

  “She’ll be around a while. I don’t know if she likes Thai, but I’ll ask.”

  The declaration was enough for the men, but clearly not enough for Elle. She opened her mouth again, but Lord squeezed her.

  “I’ll get your number to her. She’s good people.”

  Elle clapped her hands. “I can’t wait. Fresh meat!”

  I was a little worried I’d unleashed a tidal wave that would be uncontrollable, but helping Ari make friends wouldn’t be a bad thing.

  Being back and seeing familiar faces after staying away for a year made me realize how much I missed home. Maybe it was selfish of me, but I wanted to give her even more reason to stay too. Also, unless things had changed, she’d never been the kind of girl to have a posse of girlfriends, and from what I knew of Elle, Vanessa, Yve, Valentina, Charlie, and Delilah, they’d be good to her.

  As we walked out, Rix mumbled to me, “You sure you know what the hell you’re doing?”

  He could be talking about either me going to see Lachlan Mount, the man whose name no one spoke, or about unleashing the girls on Ari. The answer was the same in both cases.

  “Probably not.”

  “You know I can’t go with you if you’re heading back into the Quarter,” Rix said, talking about Mount now.

  “Don’t need you to. Don’t want you to.”

  “If he doesn’t like what you have to say, you might not walk out of that building.”

  The cartel didn’t acknowledge the authority of anyone in this city except Lachlan Mount, and no one knew exactly how he held that sway over them. But if he could help me put all these pieces together and get answers, it was a risk I was willing to take. Maybe a stupid one, but at least it was calculated.

  “I’ll come out,” I said, hoping I was right. At this point, I didn’t have many other options.

  “Good luck.”

  I nodded at Rix as I headed to the corner to catch a cab.

  36

  Ariel

  I shut my laptop and stared
out at the water. Esme was tasked with researching the top cognitive specialists in the New Orleans area so I could select one for Dad. My instinct was to find the best in the world, but I knew Dad couldn’t just hop on a plane and fly somewhere for a doctor’s appointment. They were still running tests at the hospital, and Heath had asked me to wait to stop by because all the commotion had upset Dad, and he was trying to keep him settled. It frustrated me to no end that he didn’t want me there, but I didn’t argue.

  I felt helpless. My fingers itched to dig through more department files, but Rhett had made me give my word that I wouldn’t do it without him.

  There were a million and one other things I could do for work, but my mind was too chaotic. I was a scatterbrained mess, and that wasn’t going to help anyone. I needed to center myself and find some calm so I could kick ass when it was my turn.

  My gaze drifted from the lake to the pool—a completely over-the-top, ostentatious, resort-style swimming pool with a grotto and waterfall that was sitting there unused. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d put on a bathing suit. Maybe an hour of relaxing would give me what I needed to be able to keep charging forward at my normal pace? I’d learned the hard way a few years ago that I couldn’t work 24/7 without taking a few hours to just breathe now and then.

  So maybe that was what I’d do, and I’d be more effective when the time came.

  Fifteen minutes later, slathered in sunblock and clad in a bikini from my suitcase that I didn’t remember asking to have packed, I made my way down and snagged a towel from a neat stack in the pool house. The thickly padded lounge chair called my name, and I opted to soak up a little much-needed vitamin D.

  I lasted a whole five minutes before I drifted off.

  * * *

  The realistic dream sucked me in. I was walking down a beach hand in hand with Rhett, my gauzy white dress billowing in the breeze, when he stopped to pick me up and spin me around. Once I was dizzy, he laid me down on the sand and knelt beside me to whisper in my ear.

  “You’ll never get away from him. He’s the only one who ends things.”