by Nancy Gideon
“Agreed,” he said at last. “Put things in motion, and we’ll consider what we’d like to see the future bring for us all. Call me when you have her answer. We’ll meet again to discuss ours.”
The three stepped out into the weak spring sunlight just beginning to crest surrounding rooftops. Rueben restored his black Stetson atop his head, tipping it low to shadow shrewd dark eyes as he posed, “You trust him enough to place all our futures in his hands?”
“Do you trust me enough to answer that and abide by my decision?”
Rueben chuckled at Max’s droll return. “I think it requires further examination over that fine brandy Mia said you keep in your study. Just the three of us.” Guedry cut a quick glance at Cale. He obviously didn’t care to be surrounded by a table full of Terriots.
After a nod from Cale, Max offered, “We’ll dine and drink and talk. Come out to the house at six. I’m sure you remember the way.”
They weren’t Max’s concern. A very astute and curious Charlotte Caissie was.
– – –
Cee Cee checked her watch. Two minutes after eight.
Who was she kidding? The kid wasn’t going to show. Could she blame him? Why would he risk his job security, his very life, for a stranger and trouble he didn’t need? There were no more heroes in the City of New Orleans, no one willing to step up on behalf of a stranger—a dead stranger, at that.
She rubbed her eyes to ease the burn of an all-nighter then moved that massage to low back as she stretched. Time to catch a few while she could. The first-on-the-scene reports wouldn’t be ready until closer to noon. Home and her bed a dream, reality was a hard cot off the break room where she’d wake with more pains than she went down with.
“Detective Caissie?”
She blinked upward in surprise to find DeShawn Coulette next to her desk. In his well-worn casuals, he could have been any kid fighting for a bright future she hoped she wouldn’t interrupt.
“Thanks for coming in, DeShawn. Let’s take it in back. It’s noisy out here.” And she no longer trusted some of the eyes on her business.
Rising stiffly, Cee Cee waited until her shifting center of gravity settled before leading the way through the parade of mostly empty desks to one of the interview rooms. She made sure recording was off before gesturing to an uncomfortable chair. “Coffee?”
“No, thank you, ma’am.”
Smart and polite. Sometimes she hated her job for forcing kids like Coulette into the line of fire. To put him at ease, she started with the usual wide scope of questions then narrowed them into ones that could get him killed. He answered simply, directly, and articulately. His shift had started at six. Leo arrived at close to nine when the place was full and noisy. DeShawn had taken on extra tables, and Leo was sitting at one of them.
“Had you seen him in Pour Boy’s before?”
“He’s a reg, always scoping for a comp drink. He was at the bar on his cell for ’bout ten minutes before he asked ’bout the room. A rez cancelled. Bad juju for him.”
“How did he seem? Anxious? Eager?”
“Didn’t pay him much mind. We were slamming, and he ain’t much for tippin’.” His dialect relaxed along with his shoulders. Then he paused, expression thoughtful. “He was looking to hook up when he came in.”
“With a working girl?”
“Naw. He be all business. Got all up in the face with one of the staff so she was bitchin’ ’bout it.”
Cee Cee readied her pen. “Her name?”
“Valerie Harmon.” He fidgeted. “Could you not tell her I gave her up?”
She smiled. “No problem. You said he was on his phone. Making calls or getting them?”
A shrug. “Doan know, but he were loud, and customers complained. Got into it with the bartender when she asked him to take it down.” DeShawn paused, brows lowering then raising in remembrance. “Until he made a call. Then he be like, ‘Drinks on me’ and big smiles.”
“That’s when he asked for the room.”
“Yes, ma’am. Glo, the bartender, were laying odds that he scored some big meet from the way he was talking, cuz he asked for the room to do some business. You won’t tell her—”
“Everything you say to me is confidential.” While he sighed in relief, she dealt out a half dozen photos. “Any of these faces familiar?”
He studied the lineup of six middle-aged white men. “Sure. Seen ’em all a time or two in for a drink or a meal. But last night,” he finger-tapped one print, “this one. Seen him on the news. Why I ’membered him talking to Glo at the bar.”
On the edge of her chair, she leaned in. “Think carefully, DeShawn. How close was that to when you heard the shot?”
“’bout five minutes before.”
Cee Cee picked up the photo, staring hard into those cool, authoritative eyes.
Gotcha, you son of a bitch.
Thoughts of that nap in back fled as quickly as her witness in his hurry to make class on time. Cee Cee compiled her sketched-out notes into a compelling list to draw upon down the line as adrenaline instead of caffeine washed away her exhaustion. With hours to go before she could interview the bartender, she knew she should go home to at least shower and change, but—though she’d yet to admit it—she wasn’t ready to continue the discussion Max wanted to have. She needed to gather her data and organize her talking points before confronting that oh-so-important meeting. She couldn’t do that in the increasingly noisy precinct where the danger of running into her partner before she assembled a game face increased by the minute.
Tired, emotionally on empty, Cee Cee turned to where she always did for comfort when that rare situation slipped her grasp.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Looks like you pulled an all-nighter, too.”
Mary Kate Malone turned at the sound of her best friend’s voice, hand automatically rising to shield old scars carved into the face of a beautiful teen. Defenses dropping, Mary Kate smiled, the gesture weary but welcoming.
“Status quo for both of us. It’s good to see you, Lottie. I was just heading for coffee. Have you reached your quota yet?”
“I wish, but it’s off the menu for now. Decaf.” Cee Cee fell in beside her friend as they walked the busy hall of the Institute where, as Sister Catherine, Mary Kate aided Susanna LaRoche in work both medical and spiritual. “Are you just coming in or going home?”
Cee Cee caught her wry smile. “What’s the difference? When aren’t we on the job?”
“What job is that these days, M.K.?”
A cynical chuckle. “That’s the question, isn’t it? For both of us.” She directed the way into the unusually quiet breakroom where comfortable couches and fresh brew beckoned body and soul.
Cee Cee collapsed into the welcoming cushions, ready to unburden both. But first her inquiring mind had to know.
“What’s with the change of habit?” Since her friend had taken her vows, she’d rarely seen Mary Kate in street clothes except within the apartment Cee Cee didn’t visit as often as she should. Today, baby-fine blonde hair was worn loose about the shoulders of a hunter-green sweater and skirt set with tall saddle-brown boots. Flashes of gold winked at her ears with each turn of her head. And if Cee Cee wasn’t mistaken, that was lipstick softening the line of usually worry-thinned lips. It was like looking at the friend she’d lost half a lifetime ago.
No telltale flush of guilt as she answered. “It started to chafe so much I’m considering a new direction.”
Eyebrows pole vaulted. Cee Cee took the offered cup with a, “Seriously? Time for an overdue confession.” She patted the spot beside her. “It’s Tibideaux, isn’t it?”
Mary Kate blushed at the mention of her plutonic roommate, though bright blue eyes sparkled as she took a seat. “We have feelings for each other.”
Cee Cee snorted. “No kidding.”
“I’m not supposed to have them.” Her friend glanced toward the open doorway then spilled, “But I do . . . not that anything has happened. Not yet.�
�
Like when Max Savoie had sent her entire solar system spinning out of control. Cee Cee groaned, “You’re flesh and blood, not one of those pious statues. It’s not a bad or a wrong thing. He’s a good guy who’s head over heels for you, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Her deepening blush blabbed that she had. “What I want to do about it is against every vow I took when I gave my life to a higher purpose.” A staunch argument for her own benefit or that of her insightful confidant?
“You still have purpose. Here.” Tone gentling, Cee Cee gestured widely to encompass the Institute. “You’ve served your time, paid your damned dues.” Resentment for those shared years as guests of the Church instead of a secure home lent vitriol to her familiar argument.
“It’s not prison, Lottie,” Mary Kate reminded, brows lowering in a reprimand that stung like the whack of a ruler.
“Really?” When her friend ignored the jab, Cee Cee tried a more tactful avenue. “Have you talked to Father Mike, or are you afraid he’d just re-indoctrinate you with more Kool-Aid?”
“No,” came her surprising meek reply, “just the opposite.”
Slender form slumped into the cushions beside her on a heavy sigh. “We’ve both been hiding who we really are, pretending the good we do is for others rather than our own salvation.”
Charlotte pressed her hand, startled by how fiercely the other grabbed on and held tight. “None of us are selfless or saints. We’re all flawed and afraid of being outed for the frauds we are.”
“Not you.” Mary Kate’s smile chided, holding her to a higher standard than she deserved. “You’ve always been brutally honest, especially with yourself.” A weighty pause. “What’s changed?”
Cee Cee huffed out her frustrations. “Everything. Who I thought I was, what I planned to be, every belief I was raised to uphold. I used to know the good guys from the bad. Now, I’m having a hard time believing good of anyone.” Of Warren Brady, whom she’d admired and emulated; of Alain Babineau, whom she’d trusted with her life and her secrets; of her father, whose ethics had guided her every choice . . . until she’d met and been mesmerized by a certain Mobster’s bodyguard. “There aren’t any more heroes, Mary Kate, just varying shades of villains.”
“Not villains.” Kind eyes softened. “Just people, flawed because of their humanity.”
Her laugh battled the heaviness about her heart, losing badly. “Not even that’s true. Walking upright doesn’t separate men or women from beasts anymore.”
“Does that change who you know them to be?”
“No.” A softly admitted truth. “And I’m wondering why it doesn’t. Shouldn’t it, Mary Kate, considering the things I’ve seen, that I’ve learned about myself, that I take for granted when I should run screaming in the other direction?”
Mary Kate chuckled, blue eyes brightening with pride. “You’ve never run from anything in your entire life. I so envied that about you. You never second guessed, just jumped in to do what was right.”
Cee Cee shook her head, wishing she could be so certain. “Right for me. When did it stop being for the greater good?”
“Probably when you found out there was no such thing. There’s only the best you can do to protect those you love and those who deserve better. That’s all any of us can do. And we can do it without a badge, without a crucifix, without guilt.”
Cee Cee bolted upright, wide eyes seeing clearly. “You’ve decided. You’re leaving the Church.” That altered state of being sent her moral compass spinning.
A slightly sad smile. “Just the institution, not the beliefs or the works. I started the process yesterday. I can’t be true to things I stand for unless I accept the things I am.”
“Wow,” was all she could think to whisper.
“Don’t be disappointed.” Features puckering, Mary Kate snatched up the coffee-free hand to confess, “I’ve always been the weak one when you’ve been so strong. I hid inside the strength of religion because I couldn’t face what happened to us, not like you did.”
If she expected to be shamed or comforted, Cee Cee quickly schooled her. “Bullshit. I was out on the streets hiding my fear under a crap ton of anger. You rebuilt your strength through others, for others, those who understood what it was like to be helpless and alone. We’ve both done the best we could to rise above what was done to us. We did it by not letting it beat us, by defending those who can’t defend themselves. You had God, I had Max Savoie.” She couldn’t miss the way that comparison had her friend rearing back as if shocked by a truth they’d both recognized. “Neither of us could have done it alone, and neither of us could stand by and do nothing.”
Mary Kate blinked, skepticism slowly maturing into a future-altering revelation about her world and her place in it as Cee Cee continued.
“We aren’t victims, M.K. We fight for them until they can fight for themselves. I think that makes us pretty damned awesome, don’t you?”
A slow, spreading smile. “Yes, we are.”
“So, what are we going to do about it?”
“Stop whining and start living for ourselves as well as for others?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Mary Kate smiled, a hopeful dazzle returning to her bright blue eyes. Cee Cee hadn’t seen it there since they’d been teens walking home from a basketball game. The resurgence prompted her to suggest, “We should go out to dinner, the four of us.”
“In public?”
Amused by her shock, Cee Cee drawled, “That’s what couples do. At least I think so. Max and I have hardly seen each other lately, so I’m not sure we’d remember how they behave.”
Mary Kate pounced, eager to turn the conversation from her own backyard. “Oh? Since when?”
“Something always seems to come up between us.”
Frowning at that vague response, Mary Kate coaxed, “Something like that very domestic baby bump?”
She hadn’t wanted to think so, but when Mary Kate put it out there, it seemed as obvious as her ripening condition. “Things are different now,” she admitted quietly.
“Of course, they are. They should be. In a good way.” But as dampness welled in her friend’s dark eyes, she added, “Or aren’t they? Because of your job? Does he want you to quit?”
“We’re still dancing around the issue. My job, his job, this city . . . there aren’t any safe options. This is a terrible time to bring a defenseless new life into an ugly, dangerous world.” She choked off words she could never take back once spoken as Mary Kate reflected upon the impact of them. Trying to deflect her guilt and shame, Cee Cee sighed, “These are brutal times, and they aren’t going to get any better. I don’t want Max to become my father or Colin Terriot.”
“Your father didn’t choose to leave you, and Colin is fine. I don’t understand—”
“Colin is not fine. Everything that mattered to him was ripped away because of the lives we’re living. The woman he loved died with their unborn child! Probably because they came here to aid our cause!”
“Lottie, he’s down the hall waiting for Mia to recover. Their baby is fine.”
“W-what?”
“Her vitals improved last night. She opened her eyes. Cale brought her here so they’d be better protected until she’s strong enough to leave.”
Evading Mary Kate’s snatch at her sleeve, Cee Cee leapt up, unwilling to believe until she saw for herself.
– – –
Mia Guedrey Terriot rested more comfortably within her natural sleep than her mate cramped in a bedside chair, his head nodding in a battle against fatigue. The rollaway tucked behind him remained unused, too far away to grant him the feel of her warm hand within the curl of his own. Cee Cee got that. She’d had her own share of restless, bone-weary nights.
Awareness of her in the doorway came instinctively to a predator more recently turned prey. Broad shoulders squared, channeling readiness even before he glanced her way. She hadn’t gone inside that hospital room the night before, so the effects o
f trauma and personal suffering marring his perfect features set her back a step then tore her heart wide open.
“Sorry to disturb you.”
Tension trickled down to crushing fatigue. “S’okay.” Blackened eyes targeted the Styrofoam container she extended.
“From the staff kitchen. Not gourmet but it’s hot. Thought you’d be getting hungry but not enough to leave.”
Unguarded surprise changed dulled green eyes to a sheen of emerald brilliance. “Thanks.”
Once he tasted that first fork-full, Colin devoured the meal with ravenous intensity, frowning at the juice provided in lieu of caffeine but drinking it down. With protein and sugar doing their thing, he regarded her with his usual caution.
“Visiting for personal or professional reasons, Detective?”
“Both. I was at the hospital last night with Max but didn’t want to intrude. I wasn’t expecting this visit to be a happy occasion.”
A world-class closed book of “You don’t need to know”, he hedged, “I have no answer, and sure as hell am not going to demand one. I have them back. That’s all that matters.”
There it was, just for an instant. A tiny spark of uneasiness flickered through Colin’s unblinking stare, just enough to alert her to a lie but not the reason for it. Cee Cee let it pass, filing it away as something to address at a better time and place. She smiled to back down his guarded nature to that of anxious rather than hackled mate.
“I don’t blame you. You don’t poke at Fate when it’s in your favor.” As his posture relaxed, she changed focus. “What do you remember before the—incident?” Impact was her first pick of words but despite his stoic front, she intuited the need for a kinder, gentler approach.
Though ragged, exhausted, and emotionally bruised, the Terriot prince lasered a bullshit-piercing stare. “You asking as a friend or a professional?”
“I’m always a bit of both. Can’t separate them. Just like an anxious mate and a cautious prince. We want the same thing, Colin—to find who did this and see them punished. Whether you do it or I do, it doesn’t matter to me long as it’s done. Are we on the same page here?”
