The man gave him a blank stare. “I don’t care what you do. Just make it safe for her.”
“You’ll need home health care for awhile. I want to move her as soon as humanly possible.”
“I know a nurse who will stay with us.”
“Good. You check with her. I’m meeting my people in the morning. I’ll have my team lead swing by and introduce himself while I do an initial walkthrough of the building with the rest of the team. If your nurse agrees, you can give my team lead her name. Talk to the doctors and find out what special accommodations Miss Brenner will need. I’m assuming she’ll need follow-up care. We’d prefer her doctors see Miss Brenner at your apartment, but that can be expensive.”
“Money is not a consideration in this situation. Whatever she needs, she gets.” Long stood up and moved back to the bed as if compelled.
How in the hell would it feel to be that deeply in love?
Delacroix stepped inside the room. “We are set outside.”
He rose from the crap-tastic chair. “We're good here. I’ll contact your people and start this in motion.”
Long nodded. “Thank you.”
He took his leave and fell into step with Delacroix, who was waiting outside the door for him.
“I need to head into the district headquarters, the commander wants a debrief.”
“I’ll tag along if you don’t mind.”
“Mind? Hell, I was going to insist. Dropping bombs like this is not my forte.”
“No? What is your forte, Detective Delacroix?”
The man smiled and held the door open. “I’m an organizational wiz and one hell of a cook, but besides that? I fucking close cases, Mr. Gabriel. I hunt the bastards who violate my city, and I make sure they go away for a long, long time.”
As he walked out into the hot, oppressive humidity of New Orleans, he slid his sunglasses on and smiled. “I think I could use some men like you.”
Delacroix threw back his head and laughed. “You are using me, my man, and something tells me, I’ll be well used by the time you leave.”
Chapter 9
“What?” No, she did not just hear that. No way. Nope. Wrong answer. She held the telephone receiver away from her ear and stared at it.
“The feds believe the guy who attacked her in Colorado is the same man who attacked her here.” Deacon’s voice sounded clearly through the telephone line.
Anna blinked rapidly. Oh, no. This couldn’t be happening to poor Jackie again.
“Hello?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” Her hand trembled as she held the phone to her ear.
“Would you be available to be her nurse at home? I’d pay you.”
“I don’t need money. Someone is subletting my apartment. My bills are covered. This is what friends do for friends.”
“Regardless, I would like to give you some compensation. It makes me feel as if I have some damn control in this fucking mess.”
There was a pregnant pause on both ends of the line. She could do that. “Okay, but not much.”
“Thank you.” Deacon’s voice was hollow.
Anna stared out the hotel room window. “When do the doctors think she can be moved?”
“She woke up for a little about ten minutes ago. She recognized me and started to freak out. The nurses said it was a panic attack. They gave her a mild sedative.”
“She’s strong. She’ll be okay.” Anna wasn’t sure who she was trying to reassure, herself or Deacon.
“Yeah, I have to have faith... Anyway, the doc says, depending on her mental stability, we could move her the day after tomorrow. The security team is assessing the building tomorrow, and they are going to lock it down so it's secure. After that, we’ll go home.”
“Home is good.”
“Yeah.”
The line fell silent again. “Thank you, by the way, for coming down. I’m not sure if I said that before.”
“You’re welcome. We're good. Did the bed get delivered?”
“It did, and if you don’t mind, I’m just going to lie down now. I haven’t slept in… I don’t know how long. Can you come by in the morning?”
“Sure. Do you want me to bring you some breakfast? Something that isn’t from the hospital kitchen?”
“That would be great. Bring Jackie something too?” Deacon’s voice faded for a moment. “She likes muffins. Blueberry.”
“Gotcha. I’ll be there about nine. That way, I can catch the doc when he does his rounds and discuss her care. Sound good?”
“It does. Hey… I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Calling you obnoxious.”
“Honey, I am obnoxious, and I have no problem releasing that talent when it works in my favor. Hang up the phone and go to sleep. You have to deal with me all day tomorrow. You’ll need your rest.”
She heard a tired chuckle before the line disconnected. She hung up and dialed Nathan’s office line. “Harriger.”
“Hey, I’m suddenly free for dinner. That means you’re taking me out. I want to go to The Commander’s Palace. The guy at the bar says it is really good.”
“You're damn lucky my boss knows the owners of The Palace, and his name carries some weight; otherwise, we wouldn’t get in the door.”
“Meh, you’ve got money. I bet you could do it.”
“You have no idea what type of money it takes to open doors, do you?”
“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’ and sat up on her bed, looking at her small suitcase filled with scrubs and jeans. “What am I supposed to wear?”
“Business attire for men. Dresses for ladies.”
“Yuck. Maybe we should go somewhere else?”
“Did you bring a dress?”
“Well, no…”
“Look, I know they have a boutique in your hotel. Go down and buy a dress, shoes, purse, the whole kit and caboodle. I’ll buy. Charge it to your room. Merry Christmas months in advance.”
“What if they don’t have anything I like?”
“I’ll take you to get two whole beef patties.”
“Don’t tempt me with special sauce, lettuce and cheese. You say that like I don’t want a cheeseburger, but you know I love a good burger.”
“For once in your life, will you do something for yourself without arguing?”
Anna frowned and shook her head.
“Stop shaking your head. Hang up the phone and go buy things for yourself.”
“You sound just like Mom. Bossy.”
“Pot, meet kettle.”
“What time are you picking me up?”
“I have a few things to do. I’ll ask Maggie to get us reservations, so seven-thirty or so?”
“That works.”
“See you then, oh, Anna?”
“Hmmm…”
“Thank you for taking care of Deacon and Jackie. You got through to him when nothing else did.”
“Yeah, yeah, the squeaky wheel and all that jazz.”
“You can say that, but remember I know you. You care about people. Too much sometimes.”
“You can never care too much about people, Nathan. People are all that matter. I’ll see you at six.”
“Seven-thirty.”
“Right. Seven-thirty.” Anna laughed and hung up the phone. She was sooo not a dress person. She liked what she had on today. Her stonewashed jeans fit tight down her leg and tucked into her pink anklet socks—the ones with the lace trim on top. Her canvas tennis shoes had matching pink laces. Her shirt was asymmetrical and had a belt that wrapped around her waist. It fell down past her butt, which was the style in Colorado. Down here? She’d seen more shorts and tank tops than jeans, but hello, it was also five hundred degrees in the shade.
Dresses didn’t flatter her. She’d been a bridesmaid six times, but those dresses didn’t show her spindly legs, and the ruffles over the shoulders and wide shoulder pads hid her lack of curves. She made a face. Dresses for ladies? Whatever. She’d go see what the boutique had and then settle fo
r a cheeseburger. Extra cheese.
“Wow, who are you, and what have you done with my sister?”
“Har, har, har.” Anna swatted Nathan and almost lost her balance on her heels.
“No, seriously, you look amazing.”
She held her hands out and looked down at herself. The black and white checked jacket dress nipped in at the waist with a black and white leather belt. The shoulder pads made her feel like a linebacker, but the heels were what concerned her the most. Tiny, needle-thin heels, with a thin strip of leather at the ankle and a skinnier strap holding the ball of her foot to the sole, topped her out at six-two. Thank God her brother was six-four.
“I look like I’m trying to impersonate Joan Collins on Dynasty.”
“Which one is she?”
“The one with the black hair, not Linda Evans, she’s the one with the blond hair.”
“Did she shoot J.R.?”
“Sacrilege! That is Dallas, not Dynasty.”
“Same story, different soap.”
“You obviously don’t have enough television in your life.”
“You obviously have too much.”
“I’ll have you know I limit myself to two hours a night.”
“Yeah, what do you do for the other hours?”
“You know what I do.”
“I do, and I thank you for the hand-tooled wallet you sent me for my birthday. It is beautiful.”
“You’re welcome.” She glanced around the elegant hotel room and down at her dress. “I feel like I’m playing dress-up. I really want my cowboy boots and jeans.”
“You can wear them when you get back to Colorado. You look like a princess. Your carriage awaits.”
“You left a cab running? Why didn’t you tell me?” Anna frowned at her brother. Shit, that was going to cost a fortune.
“No, I don’t have a cab waiting for us.”
“Are you driving your car? Do you have a big car? I’m not fitting these heels or these shoulder pads in one of those miniature foreign cars everyone is driving.”
“It's… no, you know what, I’ll just show you.”
Nathan ushered her out of the door and grabbed her elbow. Thank God, because there was no way she’d have made it down the hall without twisting an ankle. She’d gotten the hang of walking on her tiptoes by the time they crossed the big lobby. The rub of that little leather strap on her pinkie toe was going to be a problem, though. She was going to lose the shoes as soon as humanly possible.
“Where’s your car?” Anna craned her neck. It wasn’t like she couldn’t see; she was head and shoulders above everyone else, but there was a big black limo blocking the drive. Maybe he had to park around the corner.
“Anna.”
She glanced back at her brother.
“This is our car.” He stood beside the limo.
She pointed at the limousine. “This?”
“Yes. If you’d get in, we might make our reservation time.”
“I’ve never ridden in a limo.”
“So, I gathered.” He put his hand on her back and applied gentle pressure. She shuffled toward the man who was wearing a suit and holding the door open. He had a pleasant, albeit vacant smile on his face. She smiled back and half shimmied, half fell into the back seat. She slid across the slick leather seat and made room for Nathan.
“Look at this. There’s a stereo and, oh look, a bar! Do they have red wine?”
Nathan sat down, and the car door closed behind him.
“They do. Would you like a glass?”
“Yes, I mean, no. Are you having anything? Did that sound pathetic? It did, but yeah, I really need a drink.”
“So… yes?” He held up a bottle and a wine glass.
“Please. Red wine.”
“There is a Cab or a Merlot.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Like she could tell the difference?
He handed her the glass and turned to fill his glass with ice.
She waited until he sat back before she landed on her knees and opened the ice container she'd seen him use. She plopped three cubes into her wine and squiggled back onto the bench seat.
“What did you do?”
At Nathan’s appalled question, she jerked her head to peer out of the car window. “What? What did I miss? What happened?”
“You put ice in your wine?”
She frowned at him and then down at the wine. “I like it cold.”
“Nobody likes cold red wine.”
“I do, and last time I checked, I was somebody.”
“Just do me a favor. Don’t ask for cold red wine at the restaurant.”
“Why not?”
“Just do me that courtesy, okay?”
She made a face at him and used her forefinger to swirl the wine around the ice cubes. “I usually order red wine, a glass of ice water, and chill it myself.”
“Why would you even think to drink wine that way?”
“It tastes better cold. I don’t like beer or liquor, and if I drink cold red wine, who in the world is it hurting?”
“Every red wine producer in the world.” Nathan took a sip of his drink.
“Well, I like what I like.” She stuck her “stir” finger in her mouth and removed it with a pop, then took a drink of her wine while staring directly at her brother.
He chuckled and leaned back against the soft leather padding of the vehicle's seat.
She looked outside the car and caught a glance of the hospital as they passed by. “Have you talked to Deacon?”
“Right before I left. Jackie woke up again. She’s… well, understandably distraught. The feds are coming back tonight to interview her.”
“They are positive it’s the same guy?”
“They believe so, yes.”
“I don’t know how she’s going to deal with this, but I’m going to be there for her.” She swirled the wine in her glass.
“You are an amazing person and a great friend.”
She leaned back in the seat and sighed, “I’m nothing special.”
“That is where you’re wrong, but we won’t chase the rabbit down that hole again.”
“Oh, thank God. Hey, did Mom tell you that she and Dad are going to buy a motor home?”
“Ah, that would be a no. Why don’t you regale me with the details.”
“It would be my pleasure. See, they met this guy…”
Gabriel glanced at his watch. It was eight-thirty, and he’d spent the last twenty minutes going over the details of the assault with Jacqueline Brenner. Actually, the details of what she was doing before the assault, as she couldn’t remember the actual attack.
“Do you believe her? Do you believe she doesn’t remember anything?” Remí met up with him as he exited the room. The detective suggested Gabriel be the one to interview her as he had a relationship with the woman from the Denver attack. He agreed. Jackie didn't need the additional stress of keeping it together in front of strangers. Delacroix offered him a stick of gum as they walked down the hall.
“No, thank you, and yes, I believe her. The first attack she worked with us. The composite drawing I gave you was from her description. If she says she doesn’t remember, she doesn’t.”
“I ain't no shrink, but I’m thinking her brain is protecting her.” Delacroix tapped his forehead with two fingers. “Sometimes shit is too hard to face, you know?”
“Indeed.” His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and flipped the phone open. “Alpha.”
“The Libya teams are out, and all other teams have reported in. Timelines are solid, and there are no concerns at the moment.” Craig rattled off the information without any greeting.
“Good. What time do you arrive tomorrow?”
His friend laughed. “We’ll touch down at nine in the morning.”
“Bring all the teams to the Longline Building. We are securing the structure, building a traffic plan for all ingress and egress points, securing the executive floors, and adding monitoring devices. Th
e hardware was ordered and should be at the freight warehouse. Make sure all the equipment is loaded.”
“So, you’re really doing this? Pulling out all the stops for a cold case not pertinent to your business.” Craig’s disapproval wasn’t lost on him.
“What is your problem here? Is it because Miss Brenner is a woman?” He stood and gazed sightlessly out of the window, only marginally registering the cars that passed under the pedestrian walkway that connected the hospital.
“Hell no, but think about it, Gabriel. The more you expose yourself, the more people will look into you and the owner of the company. You are making yourself vulnerable.”
“That assumption is riddled with paranoia. Three people are aware of that information. One is secluded and delusional, and I’m not talking. Are you?”
“Never.” Craig immediately replied.
“Then, I have no reason to be concerned. Come find me at Longline when you get in. Alpha out.”
He closed the clamshell phone and pocketed it. Delacroix leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and his head cocked to the side as he gazed across the few feet that separated them. “So, how do I get some of that James Bond shit?”
“Sorry, what?”
“That phone, man. The ones sold to the public don’t work for shit, and it is like dragging around a brick.”
“We are beta testing these.”
“Ah, huh. I have no idea what that means. This Guardian has bank, though, doesn’t it?”
“Bank?”
“Money, scratch, green.”
He chuckled and headed down the corridor. “We do have assets most companies don’t have access to, yes.”
“Y’all pay good?”
He chuckled. “Yes, yes, we do.”
“Got any job openings for a Cajun detective?”
He gave the man a sideways smile. “I believe there will be openings available shortly. Not sure if a Cajun detective is in any of the job descriptions, though.”
“Just let me know where to apply. I'll change your mind.”
“I’ll do that.”
He sat down for the first time since he’d stepped into the Longline Building at seven that morning. The lights of the city twinkled at him through the window of the office he’d claimed in Deacon’s building. To say Guardian had shaken up operations today was the understatement of the decade. His people had descended on the building, hit the fire alarms, and evacuated all twenty-seven floors.
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