The Devil's Due

by Ali Vali

  The reality of who these people were dawned in Finley’s eyes as she stared at Cain. This was real and very scary. Finley couldn’t hide behind the computer screen Cain knew was her normal job. “They’ll never stop coming after Abigail, will they?” Finley’s fire seemed to dampen in the cold reality of what she faced.

  “No. Not even if you have enough to put them away for life.” Cain couldn’t sugarcoat the truth or take a lot of time to decide the logical next step. That pained her because that type of decision changed your life and, in Finley’s case, would perhaps prevent her from going back to the job she loved.

  Forty minutes later, Finley seemed at peace with the only real choice that would keep her new family safe.

  “Are you sure?” Cain asked one last time, since Finley had been quiet for the entire ride into the city. Finley nodded, so she reached in the backseat for what she’d brought with her.

  “Yes, and that’s why you don’t have to stay,” Finley said as she accepted the tommy gun that had belonged to Cain’s father. They were parked not far from the building that housed the Hell Fire Club, waiting for Yury and Valarie.

  “It was Da’s. It’s unregistered, and when you’re done, it’ll go back into mothballs. I just thought if you wanted to be sure, this’ll guarantee it.”

  She saw the car with Remi and her people pull away, getting in front of the Antakovs’ vehicle, so she followed and lowered the passenger-side window. Yury and Valerie turned toward them as every member of their protection went down from the hail of bullets from Remi’s vehicle. If Finley froze, Lou and Katlin were right behind them, but that didn’t happen. Finley opened fire, hitting both her targets repeatedly.

  Cain drove calmly away, leaving their targets where they landed, and kept going until they reached the spot Lou had scoped out for this. Once they were out of their vehicles, Lou and the others scrubbed them down before they torched them. Finley seemed okay, but it’d take a few days for the shock to set in. Maybe by then she’d be ready for the new life that awaited her back with Abigail and her family.

  “I owe you, Cain,” Finley said as she embraced her.

  “You’re my family, so we’ll never have debts between us—never.”

  *

  The quality of the gate kept the numerous agents Joe had brought outside until he threatened to blow the hell out of it. He shoved the warrant through the wrought iron, almost slapping the guy on the other side in the face with it. “Open it now, or I’m cuffing you as soon as I open this gate with a grenade. Then I’m going to bulldoze the front door so you can explain it to your boss.”

  Of all the things that bothered Joe the most about this job, it was the smug smiles all these wise guys wore. The guy still stared at him, moving only after his phone rang. He listened for a moment, then pressed a button and the gate unlocked. Joe needed to get inside before Cain could make it home in time to establish an alibi.

  The goose chase had ended in a gunfight downtown that had left eight people dead in front of some building that mostly held oil-field companies. Joe and the others concluded that Cain had somehow shaken her surveillance, then killed a bunch of people for whatever reason. He’d moved fast as soon as the call came in, wanting to be in place when she came slinking back with some flip response as to where she’d been.

  “Joe, I’ve got your back but go easy. If she feels cornered, this might end badly,” Shelby said, glancing at her phone every so often. “Let’s see who exactly this hit took out.”

  “Cain isn’t going to rush out guns blazing with her family in there. I came prepared this time and got a warrant ahead of time.” He gestured for the other agents to circle the house. “Get out back and cover all the doors.”

  He unholstered his weapon and moved to the house but stopped short when the door opened. The older woman who appeared in the doorway wrung her hands in distress, so he slowed, his gun pointed at the ground.

  “Can I help you?” the woman asked.

  He flashed his credentials, hoping the large letters of FBI would get her out of the doorway. “Please step aside, ma’am. We have a warrant to search this house.”

  The woman hesitated but stepped back to let him pass.

  “Try the office first,” Shelby said, pointing to the hall at the other end of the foyer.

  “Can I ask what you’re looking for, or is it a secret?” The voice at the top of the stairs made Joe spin around, and he had to fight his instinct to lift his gun. “You’ve got a warrant, but I still have a right to know what you’re here for.”

  “We’re searching for evidence from an altercation tonight,” Shelby said, moving in front of Joe.

  “I don’t know if it was you two, but someone followed me when I came home.” Cain came down in a robe and bare feet. “Did someone get in a fight in my yard?”

  “This dumb act on your part is getting old,” he said, holstering his weapon. He’d never seen Cain dressed so casually, and he was irritated that it made him uncomfortable. “You’ll need to come in and answer some questions about tonight. This can go easy, or it can go otherwise.”

  “I’m familiar with the otherwise.” Cain spoke softly, her expression giving away nothing. She seemed to be looking behind him so he couldn’t help but glance back. The young agent appeared almost fearful, judging by his pained expression, and he remembered this was the kid who’d delivered the envelope from Cain to Annabel. “You got me out of bed, and my attorney will be here shortly so I’m not going anywhere. My wife’s expecting, and since you waste your days watching me, you should know that.”

  “If I want you to come in, you’re coming in,” he said. For once, this was in his power to do. “I’m not sure how you beat me back here, but we both know you’re responsible.”

  “I don’t need to put special in front of any title I might have, Special Agent Joe, to know that if you have or have ever had proof, you wouldn’t need to ask questions. Questions are like worms. They’re bait that you cast out and wiggle to make themselves enticing. But I’m not your ordinary stupid fish.” She moved away from them to the closest room at the front of the house. At the living room’s center was a small table with two dolls sitting around it. Judging from the china tea set, Hannah liked to play here. Cain sat on the sofa. “What did I do now?”

  “Any bait-wiggling will happen downtown.” Joe ignored her gesture inviting them to also sit.

  “Actually, my client has been home all night,” Muriel said as she entered and sat next to Cain. “After a meeting earlier tonight, Cain returned here, and the others went their separate ways. Those associates are still out celebrating a few things talked about at that meeting, so unless a quiet night at home and a few beers with friends have become a crime, my client’s not going anywhere.”

  “We’ve got a lot of people dead on the street, Counselor. As you should’ve learned on the first day of law school, that’s a crime.”

  “Joe,” Shelby said, “give me a minute outside.”

  He pointed at Cain. “Don’t move.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cain said.

  Her smile infuriated him, and he jabbed his finger in the air to punctuate his words. “These people who were killed are the type that won’t be forgotten. Local and federal law enforcement will be under pressure to solve this case, so it won’t go easy for you. Think about that.”

  “Listen—” Shelby said once they were in the yard.

  “We need to start looking for a connection between the Eatons and Casey.” He talked over her, but Shelby kept her tone even.

  “We need to get back to the office, so take a breath and calm down. The Eatons aren’t what they seem, and our office is raiding a place called the Hell Fire Club right now. Agent Hicks said a group from the New York bureau is here with information about all this. Tonight might be a gang war, but it’s got nothing to do with Cain.”

  “What do you mean, the Eatons aren’t what they seem?” He rubbed his forehead even though his neck hurt. If he’d jumped the gun,
Cain would throw his attitude back at him a hundredfold.

  “The agent from New York has some extensive files for us to go through. I doubt we’ll be the ones to investigate the case, but Hicks wants us to be sure.” She stared at the house and cleared her throat.

  Joe turned and exhaled when he saw Cain walking toward them.

  “Are we done? I love when you guys visit as much as a root canal, but I need to get back upstairs.”

  “We’re done for now.” Joe hated admitting that. “But don’t leave town.”

  “I guess I’ll have to cancel my trip to Transylvania for my fang-sharpening visit,” Cain said. Her smile held no humor and her eyes turned cold. “Next time you feel like fishing, Special Agent Joe, pick another pond. Not all bad roads lead to my door.” The yard filled with a lot of big guys as Cain returned to the house. They obviously were to be their escort out.

  Joe knew he’d blown any future opportunity to get back inside the Casey gates. Muriel would make it much harder to get another warrant. “You really think she wasn’t involved?”

  “I can’t read her mind, but Cain doesn’t exploit women, and that’s what this is about,” Shelby said. “Cain concentrates more on exploiting the government and guys like us.”

  “Her luck can’t last forever,” he said, waving all their people out.

  “I wouldn’t take that bet,” Shelby said. She looked up and found Cain staring at them from the upstairs windows. “Whatever we may think of her, she seems to be blessed with an abundance of luck.”

  “Maybe we should ask her to share.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Another week went by, and the Hell Fire Club story died away since the media seemed more interested in the bizarre deaths being investigated by Detective Sept Savoie. It was good for business since the police seemed obsessed with trying to calm the serial-killer hysteria spreading through the city. Hector was back from Colombia but still no closer to finding an answer to who had hit him both here and at home.

  Pressure was building to solve this mystery, since failing to fulfill orders would start a war, and wars took money to survive. He’d been through a number of them, using the chaos to climb higher up the cartel. But he’d known every player during those fights. Fighting blind was the fastest way to lose.

  “You didn’t find any clues in the fields?” Tracy spoke in Spanish.

  “The damn place was burnt to the ground. My farmers said a plane came by and sprayed something, and then a number of explosions took care of the rest. Whatever they sprayed has ruined the ground, so it’ll be months before I can start planting again.”

  The condo in the French Quarter he’d leased for Tracy was quiet, but the light from the street illuminated her skin as he observed from the window before joining her in bed. Tracy had been an even better asset than he’d first imagined, though Marisol didn’t want to accept that fact yet. He ran his hand from her thigh up to her breast, but he couldn’t stop looking at her face.

  “I’ve got everyone on the street offering a reward, but so far nothing.” She didn’t move when he gently touched the side of her nose that was bruised and still a bit swollen. “Marisol didn’t care for my idea of reaching out to see if anyone else is having this kind of problem.”

  “Why didn’t you call me when this happened?”

  “That would’ve been like admitting I couldn’t handle it. I understand that Marisol doesn’t like me, but I don’t want this to become an everyday kind of thing.” She reached down and wrapped her hand around his penis. “Maybe you can set some ground rules.”

  “Worry about this right now.” He moved to lie on his back. “I’ll take care of the rest.” She straddled him without letting go. He’d been with so many women, but not many truly loved to fuck more than Tracy did.

  He came hard and way too fast but didn’t have time to enjoy anything else before his phone rang. “I said no calls,” he said when he answered it.

  “Señor Hector.” Gilberto Medio was his new guard. “I know you didn’t want to be disturbed, but someone just arrived at the house, and Marisol wanted to warn you.”

  “Tell me already.” He felt another twinge of desire as Tracy took him in her mouth.

  “Señora Raquel is here to see you.”

  “My wife’s in New Orleans? Why?” He ran his fingers through Tracy’s hair. “Never mind. She’s going to have to wait.”

  When they were done, Tracy was skeptical, but she dressed and accompanied him to his house. Raquel Delarosa was a beautiful woman, but she didn’t get up and greet Hector when they arrived. She glanced between Hector and Tracy. Marisol obviously had spent some time filling her mother in on some things.

  “Hector, if you want I’ll wait in the office,” Tracy offered. She twitched her fingers when Marisol smiled.

  “Sit down,” Hector said as he moved closer to Marisol. The smirk disappeared from his daughter’s face when his fist landed perfectly against her nose. Tracy grimaced at the spray of blood and slightly shook her head, knowing a relationship with Marisol would be impossible now.

  “Hector,” Raquel screamed when he drew his hand back again.

  “Shut up.” He turned so fast that Raquel sat back down with an expression of fear that Tracy interpreted as someone expecting to be hit, and hit hard. “It’s time everyone in this house remembers who gives the orders.”

  “Papa,” Marisol said, her voice muffled by her hands pressed to her face. “I did what you asked, but that bitch disrespected me.”

  “She disrespected you by trying to make you think?”

  Marisol screamed as Hector hit her again, landing a blow to her mouth. She covered her head to protect herself.

  “You wouldn’t have let anyone speak to you like that,” Marisol said from her knees.

  “Stop talking before I send you home to replant my fields all alone.” Hector stretched his hands as if the two brutal blows had stung. “I talked to Julio as well and threatened to blow his balls off if he lied to me, but he was smart enough to know who he worked for.”

  “Hector, por favor.” Raquel pleaded with him but didn’t move from where she sat. “She made a mistake, just like you did coming up. It’s not worth losing teeth over.”

  “Everybody out.” Hector grabbed Marisol by the hair before she could get up. “Let me warn you about something. I don’t give a shit about your ego or how humiliated you feel. If something happens to Tracy, I’ll blame only you, so you better start praying she has a long and happy life.”

  “I’m your heir. No one’s going to care about you more than me.” Marisol held onto his pants leg. Her tears had mixed with the blood and mucus from her nose, so Tracy glanced away to not embarrass her any more than Hector had already.

  “Do you understand me? Do both of you understand me?” His words squeezed through his clenched teeth, and Marisol simply nodded.

  Tracy made eye contact with Raquel and almost laughed at the way the woman was glaring at her. One more Delarosa woman that hated her wasn’t the end of the world unless they somehow got to Hector. If he turned against her, she’d pray that what he’d done to Marisol would be the extent of her punishment.

  “Both of you get out of my sight,” Hector said, walking away from Marisol. “And next time, Mari, try not to act like a weak bitch. Julio told me Tracy took it without a tear, so try to learn a lesson from that. Never show your weakness.”

  Tracy guessed the insult was too much, since Marisol ran from the room sobbing. “She’ll try to kill me after that,” she said as Hector caressed her cheek. “Her mother certainly appears ready to.”

  “I don’t think you’ll kill that easy.” He moved his fingers to lift her chin. “And Raquel isn’t Marisol’s mother. My daughter had a much more colorful start than that.” He laughed as he led her to the leather couch in his office. “No, her mother died in a whorehouse since she couldn’t control herself around men. The only good thing the bitch ever did while she was with me was give me Marisol. Even my sons don’t remi
nd me so much of myself, but I can’t let her run wild. Whatever business I leave her will be gone in a month if she doesn’t start thinking.”

  “I’ll try never to disappoint you.”

  “Then it’s been a successful day so far.”

  *

  The next morning Special Agent Russell Welsh gathered all his files from the office Annabel Hicks had lent him and shoved them into the boxes the New Orleans office would be sharing with Miami. That was his next stop after the Hell Fire Club had been dismantled here and closed in Florida. The Miami bureau wanted to go in, but he wanted his own people in there. They deserved it after the months of investigations they’d put in.

  The only thing left to do was meet with Finley and get her back on the case. Abigail and her family should be okay going forward, and Annabel also had promised to keep an eye on them. Finley had been sifting through all the information they’d found at the club but hadn’t joined him here. All of her intel had been spot-on though, so he hadn’t forced the issue.

  “You all set?” Annabel asked as a crew came in to collect his stuff.

  “Miami’s waiting, but I’ll swing back around if you find anything else.” He shouldered his bag and signed the papers on the clipboard one of the guys handed him. “We’re still searching the ledgers we found in a warehouse this Eaton guy owned in New York, so there might be more to investigate here.”

  “I have to thank you,” Annabel led him to her office. “The Hell Fire Club was on no one’s radar, so you helped us maybe stop another mob family from taking root in the city. We’ve got enough to keep up with.”

  “If we find anything helpful—you’ll be my first call.” He held out his hand, ready to go. “I have a meeting before my flight. We’ll talk soon.”

  The place Finley picked wasn’t far from the bureau office so he walked, amazed how empty the streets were in a city the size of New Orleans. He found the restaurant and smiled when he saw his best agent. The place wasn’t crowded, which would keep their conversation private.