A Dark Horse

by Cooper, Blayne

  “Swear it! Protective custody. No way he can touch me.”

  “I swear.”

  His face turned bright red as though his mouth and brain couldn’t agree on whatever he was about to do next. “Argh!”

  “Your lieutenant? Luna?” she prodded gently. Who better to protect Morrell from himself long enough to make him useful? Who else would ignore his incompetence and cruelty and allow him to rise to a sergeant? Why else would his lieutenant have outright refused her request for an investigation into Crisco’s beating?

  Morrell glared up at her and, unaccountably, his mouth distorted into an awful smile. “You’re not as smart as you think you are.”

  Adele lifted an eyebrow, her gun never wavering as she waited, the cold rain plastering her hair to her face.

  “It was never my boss. It was yours.”

  She could only stare. The respected leader who’d run the Juvenile Division for almost twenty years? The boss who took her under his wing and gave her her first break as a detective? The beaming man who’d showed up at the hospital when Logan was born with Godiva chocolates for her, Jack Daniel’s for Landry, and a teddy bear as big as a real bear cub for her son?

  Adele’s mind ruthlessly rewound the clock and replayed other events too. He’d also completely shut down her claims of Morrell’s violence. He’d callously egged on Landry’s worry about the damage her claims could do to their lives and careers. God only knew what he’d told Lieutenant Luna behind the scenes. Maybe that’s why no one, including the PIB, had listened to her.

  She’d always thought her boss wanted to sweep police brutality under the rug in an effort to save the NOPD’s badly damaged image. She’d thought he played by old-school rules and valued the thin blue line above everything else.

  In reality, he was covering for murder.

  “Lieutenant Peter Xavier?” she whispered, believing it the second his name passed her lips.

  Morrell nodded, his sinister-looking grin still frozen in place.

  Landry strode up behind her and roughly pushed Morrell down on the wet bench headfirst. Morrell’s belly made a loud squelching sound when it hit the wet stone. “Hands out above your head, ass hat!” When he didn’t see Morrell’s gun, he wordlessly reached out and Adele passed it to him.

  Landry continued to pat him down and removed a baby Glock from Morrell’s ankle holster. “Who?” he grunted, knowing by the look on Adele’s face that Morrell had told her.

  “Xavier.”

  “Shit.” Landry sighed. He cuffed Morrell then jerked him upright to a sitting position, as though the large man weighed no more than a child.

  Adele texted Natalie: It’s done and he talked. I’m okay. Details soon.

  She was rewarded with an instant reply. Thank God! Come home. We both need a hug. And wine. ☺

  Adele smiled affectionately, running her finger over the text.

  Morrell suddenly released a surprise cackle. “Hey, Lejeune, don’t you want to know the rest of the story?”

  She and Landry exchanged worried glances. Morrell looked way too happy. Something was very wrong. His paralyzing fear had shifted into something that dripped with gleeful hatred.

  Landry gave Morrell a rough shake. “What else? Spit it out,” he said in an eerily calm voice. “I’m not as nice as my wife. I’ll beat your fat ass from here to Texas.”

  Morrell cocked his head to the side. “Don’t you mean ex-wife?”

  Landry lifted his fist but Adele intercepted him by grabbing his bicep. “What else Morrell?” She stuffed her weapon into her jacket pocket and wiped her sodden hair back off her forehead. She collected Landry’s cell phone from his pocket and lifted the large camera off from around his neck, ejecting the memory card.

  They worked and moved easily together. Time, it seemed, had erased most of the awkwardness since their split. “Morrell, if you have something to say, it’s now or never.”

  “I told you that I didn’t hurt your girlfriend or kill Crisco.”

  Landry’s head snapped sideways at the word girlfriend. He looked at Adele in question, and she mouthed “later.”

  “So what?” she said out loud to Morrell. “You’re a dirty liar.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Morrell allowed easily. “But I was never the muscle for Xavier. I just ran small jobs.” He squared his shoulders proudly. “But I did it well. Xavier has a gorilla for the truly nasty stuff.”

  “Enough of this,” Landry groaned, frowning at the darkening sky. “Save it for the judge and your prison résumé.”

  Adele collected the envelope with the money and stuffed it next to her gun.

  Landry jerked Morrell to his feet and started walking. Morrell craned his head backward, obviously desperate to get in the last word. “The henchman for Xavier is your good buddy. The newly minted Vice detective. Alonzo Rice.”

  Adele held up a hand and Landry stopped. “Wh-what did you say?”

  “Don’t listen to him, Ella,” Landry said, smacking Morrell hard on the back of the head and beginning to walk again. “He’s just trying to get to you.”

  “It’s the truth!” Morrell protested shrilly, digging in his heels and sending tiny bits of white rock from the gravel path everywhere. “I’m not lying.”

  “Landry, stop. I want to hear this.” Adele removed her gun and pointed it right at Morrell’s head. She strode forward, not stopping until the barrel was pressed tightly against the space between his eyes. “Now, what did you say?”

  “Ella…” Landry’s voice rumbled deep in his chest. An urgent warning.

  “I-I…” Morrell began to trip over his words, his eyes crossing as he stared at the barrel of the gun. “Uh, I didn’t mean to…”

  “What. Did. You. Say?” Eyes blazing, Adele spat out the words.

  “It’s the truth.” Morrell began to struggle wildly. “Rice is the muscle when Xavier needs someone to disappear. Not me. You promised me protective custody! You promised!”

  “Shut up and quit spazzing out when there is a gun to your head,” Landry barked, wrestling Morrell back into control with hands made slippery by the rain. They were all soaked. “Or protective custody for you is going to be the morgue.”

  Adele searched Morrell’s eyes for the lie, but all she saw was malice and terror that she’d renege on her part of the deal. Her mind raced, and suddenly it lit on an omission that she hadn’t thought important until now. She’d thought it was trivial. When she’d questioned Billy about the night at the Dixie Brewery she made him recount the evening in detail, over and over. While she’d never asked him about it specifically, he’d never mentioned…

  “The night you were headed to the Dixie Brewery, tell me what happened after you got the call. Everything.” Adele tasted bile.

  “Ella—”

  “Quiet, Landry!” she nearly shouted, her glare drilling into Morrell. Her phone buzzed again but she left it in her pocket.

  Morrell yelped as Landry pushed his cuffed hands farther up his back when he didn’t respond quickly enough. “You already know.” He recounted the events exactly as Hobson had.

  Adele grew more agitated.

  Obviously trying to hit whatever it was she was searching for, Morrell added, “We were never gonna eat at Betsy’s Hole-in-the-Wall diner. Her chili makes me shit fire for days. I just said that as an excuse for why I was in Mid-City.”

  Adele squeezed her eyes shut. No. No. No! “There has to be more.”

  “Huh?”

  “Tell me that you stopped for gas on the way to the brewery.”

  Morrell and Landry both looked truly bewildered. “But, we didn’t.”

  “Tell me you stopped for gas! Tell me you kept the receipt and showed it to PIB during the investigations.”

  “The fuck? I don’t know what you’re even talking about. We had to haul it to make it to the brewery during that storm! You think I stopped for a Big Gulp along the way? Xavier would have put a bullet in my head himself.”

  Tears leapt into her eyes but
were quickly washed away by the rain. Al had told her about the gas stop to shut her up. To keep her from looking deeper into Morrell. He’d known she couldn’t prove or disapprove his story. And it had worked.

  “Ella?” Landry looked between his ex-wife and Morrell. “What does that mean?”

  “He’s telling the truth,” she said brokenly, bending at the waist and turning her back to the men. Oh, God. She was going to barf on some poor Confederate soldier’s grave. “Al…”

  “Shit!” Landry’s eyes welled as fast as Adele’s. “I’m sorry, Ella. I am.” He shook his head roughly as if to order his thoughts. “Okay, you don’t do anything about this. We’ll get him. Al doesn’t know we’re on to him, and we’ll get him just like that SOB Xavier. Just don’t do anything yet. We don’t want to tip either one of them off.”

  Adele didn’t respond. She couldn’t.

  “This has to go down at the exact same time.” Landry ran a hand over his short dark hair, scattering more water droplets. “Just like we talked about for whomever Morrell’s crooked boss turned out to be, we’ll bring in the Baton Rouge PD for the bust. But first I have to take this piece of shit back home, and you have to pick up Logan at Amelia’s.”

  Stunned, Adele let his words roll over her. Not Al. Please no. This has to be a mistake. She loved him like family. He was family.

  “Too bad—” Whatever Morrell was going to say next was cut off by Landry’s hard smack to the face.

  “Ella?” Landry questioned worriedly. “Did you hear me? You cannot go near Al.”

  “No…I mean, yes.” She was going numb on the inside as though someone had injected her veins with novocaine. She’d helped Al since he was a boy. Like Al said, they were tight. After everything, he was the only one who had had her back. And somehow it was all a lie. How was that even possible?

  “I-I won’t go after him,” she said, her voice feathery light. I don’t think I can even look at him. “You’re right. We can’t risk Xavier finding out or vice versa.” Her jaw worked. “They go down tomorrow, together.”

  Landry reached out and laid a comforting hand on her soaked forearm. “I’m sorry.”

  Tears burned her eyes and carved a path down her cheeks. “Me too.” She sat back down on the bench. “Go.” She made a shooing motion. “I’ll go get Logan right from here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Landry nodded but didn’t move. “I’ll leave the keys in the gate. Are you—?”

  “I’m not fine. But I will be.” Adele closed her eyes and heard them walk away. She knew that Landry had borrowed a black-and-white cruiser so he could secure Morrell for the trip to Baton Rouge. And she imagined that she heard the cemetery gate open and close and the cruiser pull away.

  For a few minutes she sat there, cane in hand, letting the rain pound down on her, her arms wrapped around herself in misery, when her phone buzzed again. “Goddammit, Landry! What now?” But it wasn’t a missed call. It was a text from Natalie that had been sent moments earlier.

  Al called my phone back. Wants to meet w/me. Cabbing to his house now. Be back soon. XOXO

  Adele’s blood turned to ice. “Christ!” She phoned Natalie back, her entire body in motion as she frantically willed her to pick up. But there was no answer. In a panic, she texted several messages, but didn’t get a reply.

  She sprinted for the gate, quite sure neither her feet nor her cane ever hit the ground.

  Chapter Twenty

  Detective Rice lived in a small area of the Algiers neighborhood called Algiers Point. It was located across the Mississippi River from the rest of New Orleans and accessible only by ferry or bridge. Adele had her foot flat on the accelerator of her hopelessly gutless Ford Fiesta the entire way across the bridge, using every swear word she knew and twisting them into increasingly vile combinations.

  During the drive, the pain from Al’s bone-deep betrayal had evolved into a raw fury that was barely containable. She gripped the steering wheel so tight her fingers ached. How dare he try to kill someone she loved!

  And if he’d harmed Natalie again…what? The new threat died as quickly as it was born. She could haul him to jail to face the music for his crimes, yes. Without question. But hurt Al? It would be like hurting Logan or Amelia or even Natalie. Inconceivable.

  She’d texted Natalie a half-dozen more times and called nearly that many. Nat’s phone had to be off because the messages were now going directly to voice mail.

  Adele pulled onto Oliver Street and slowed down, finally yielding to the pouring rain. Her windshield wipers were on full speed, and they still weren’t doing enough. The last thing she wanted was to crash the damn car.

  It was fully dark when Adele came to a stop behind a new, tricked-out, black Escalade she didn’t recognize, and in front of a cheerful pale blue Queen Anne-style home with several palm trees dotting the small front yard. Al’s wife’s minivan was nowhere to be seen. The porch light was off, but lights inside the house were on, and an enormous Christmas wreath decorated the front door.

  Adele drew her gun and turned off her own phone, stuffing it into the back pocket of her jeans as she moved up the front walk and stood next to the porch swing, and a coffee can full of sand that served as an ashtray. For a moment, she wasn’t sure how to proceed. Things could be calm inside and Al could be simply chatting with Natalie, or it could be a nightmare. Unwilling to take any chances with Natalie’s safety, she kept her gun out and assumed the worst.

  She mentally reviewed the layout of the house and had almost decided to head around to the back when she heard the sound of children in the front room. Her heart clenched so hard that it threatened to send her to her knees. She gasped.

  Her mind flashed to a ramshackle house almost three years ago, and darkness began to invade the edges of her eyesight. Images and sensations from the past merged with the here and now and yanked her back through time: a cloudy night sky, children’s voices, the weight of her weapon clenched tightly in her hand, stinging sweat in her eyes, the feeling of her feet sinking into mud, the scent of damp wood and cigarettes. Suddenly she was back inside that house, only Natalie was there too, and they were separated. How?

  Adele swallowed hard and drew in several shaky breaths. Calm down. Calm the fuck down. Abruptly overheated, she rested her forehead against the cool wooden front door as her vision swam. She was melting down, and she hadn’t even made it inside yet. Don’t get her killed. Don’t!

  Her eyes slammed closed of their own accord. This house is different. This is now. This is different. This is now. This is Al’s house. It took an embarrassingly long time, but she repeated her mantra again and again until she could look around and see and smell and feel only what was happening today. Although she had regained some semblance of clarity, she didn’t feel much better.

  Three years ago she’d been dealing with strangers. This was infinitely more horrible. These were people she loved.

  A few seconds more, and Adele’s heartbeat slowed to something close enough to normal that she was certain she wouldn’t pass out. Think. Al had three kids. The littlest was still in diapers and the oldest was the same age as Logan. There was a boy in the middle. It had been so long since she’d seen them, she was sure they wouldn’t recognize her, but she had to get them out of the house. Despite her overwhelming need to find Natalie, Adele needed to do that first.

  Thankfully, the front door was unlocked, and she silently slipped inside, putting her gun away and dripping heavily on the dark hardwood floors. Adele crept into a small room off the main entry and Al’s oldest child, a pretty girl named Monique, glanced up from a Lego tower she was making with her little brother, Damien. Oddly, both children were wearing coats.

  “Hi, Monique,” Adele said quietly, bending down so she was on the same level as the child.

  Monique’s eyes widened and she looked like she might scream for help until her brother intervened.

  “The lady from the picture!” he said excitedly. He grabbed Adele’s hand and pulled her over to a
side table to see a photo of Al in cap and gown at his high school graduation, his muscular arm wound around Adele’s shoulders as they smiled happily for the camera. Adele had the photo’s twin in her living room.

  “That’s me,” Adele said in a cheerful but quiet voice. “I’m your daddy’s friend, Ella.” When she’d detached herself from just about everything good in her life, she’d stopped visiting with Al’s family too. She hadn’t seen his kids in more than a year, and now she was a stranger. “We’ve met before, but you were too little to remember.”

  Monique instantly relaxed. “You’re Logan’s mama. His picture is on our refrigerator. Are you a police detective like Daddy?”

  “I-I catch bad guys sometimes.” Though she knew she was going to lie like a rug to get the children out of the house, for some reason she found herself unable to lie about that. “Where is your mama and baby Michael?”

  “Gone Christmas shoppin’!” Damien answered excitedly. He looked up at Adele with his father’s pretty eyes, and she wanted to burst into tears. “Daddy’s mad cuz Mama’s not answering her phone again.”

  Adele looked over her shoulder nervously. “I need you kids to come with me.”

  “We can’t,” Monique informed Adele seriously. “Daddy says we’re going on a car trip and to wait here and not move an inch until he’s finished talking to the pretty lady. She’s coming on our trip too. He already put our suitcases in the car.”

  Adele licked her lips and nodded. “We’re all going on the trip together. That’s why I have my coat on too. Your daddy sent me to get you.”

  “You’re all wet,” Damien said, wrinkling his nose.

  “It’s raining, but we’ll run fast so we won’t get too wet. Let’s go.”

  Monique hesitated, and Adele quickly pulled out her phone. “You can play with this in the car while I get your daddy. It’s brand new and it has a game on it.” Temptingly, she held it out and smiled.

  Monique looked skeptical and unimpressed, and Adele felt a tiny rush of pride at the girl’s intelligence.

  Damien elbowed his sister. “Say yes, Mo! I wanna play. Puh-leeze!”