by LAURA HARNER
“Evelyn, you’re prattling,” Constantine said, growing angry.
“I never prattle.”
“Evelyn!” Constantine shouted, exasperated. “Tell me what you did.”
“Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, darling. Although, I suppose it’s not exactly pretty…dashing, I think, describes you better. A distinguished gentleman, perhaps—”
Constantine grabbed her, his grip a vise on her wrist. His voice whipped across her words, “What in the hell have you done? If you interfered with my plans—”
Evelyn looked pointedly at her wrist, but he didn’t release her. “Nonsense, Constantine. I just did a little cleaning up of a loose end. Don’t worry. There are no ties to you, no ties to either of us. Although, I wonder. Why did you agree to meet Julian’s man on the Pier and on his terms? Such an unsavory location.” She gave a little shudder.
“Not just Julian’s man, Evelyn. Julian’s son, Hawk, newly arrived from the oil fields of Houston–or was it London? It doesn’t matter. Julian wanted the position of power, I gave it to him,” Constantine said, releasing her arm and walking to the sideboard to pour a drink. “Sometimes appearing weak in an enemy’s eyes gives you the position of greater strength. Letting Julian believe he has the upper hand is giving him nothing but an illusion of control.
“I agreed to the terms as soon as I heard Hawk was in town and would be representing Julian. His children are his greatest weakness. It’s time to exploit that knowledge.”
****
As Danielle started her work in his room at his father’s mansion, Hawk tried to imagine it through her eyes. Heavy wood, rich chocolate and red wine hues, as luxurious as any five-star hotel. It felt ostentatious to him suddenly, and he longed for a place of his own to bring her.
Not that she was interested in him like that. He could tell from the way her eyes moved restlessly over everything, the way she watched him. He knew telling her his story only increased his likelihood as a suspect. What choice had he? He could have covered up, hidden the evidence, but then the real killer would be able to exert control over him.
Danielle worked quickly, coating each flat surface with fingerprint powder, taking photographs, making notes. There was no need for small talk to cover any awkward moments for this woman. She was completely focused on her work.
Danielle had stopped off at her apartment on the way to his father’s house. She’d put a portable crime scene kit into a large satchel-type purse and shifted out of her work clothes. Now she looked more casual, wearing blue jeans and a deep blue sweater that skimmed her breasts and hinted at the lush body underneath. She’d pulled her glossy blonde hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, and he wanted to taste all that exposed flesh. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets, careful not to touch anything, and watched her work.
When she finished with the surfaces, she snapped off the soiled gloves and put on a fresh pair. “May I?” she asked, hands poised above the dresser.
Hawk nodded and then kept his face impassive while she ran her fingers lightly over a stack of his silk boxers. She quickly went through the drawers and the rest of the room. Finally, she removed her gloves and asked to use his bathroom to clean up. “Turn on some music while I’m gone, will you?”
Danielle left the water running in the bathroom when she returned with two damp washcloths and tossed one to him. “Let’s clean up any sign I was here in an official capacity. Just in case someone saw me come in,” she said, speaking softly.
“Did you find anything?” he asked, as he wiped the fingerprint dust from his night table and lamp.
She was quiet for such a long time that he thought maybe she wasn’t going to answer him. Finally, with a sigh, she said, “I didn’t find anything.”
Confused by her answer and tone, he asked, “Nothing? That’s good, isn’t it?”
“I’m not exaggerating, Hawk. I didn’t find one thing. And I should have.”
“What do you mean?”
“There isn’t anything. Not one fingerprint on any surface in your room. I should have at least found yours. Unless your staff is remarkably efficient and dusted your room after you changed clothes and went out tonight.”
“And the music and water? You suspect my room may be under electronic surveillance?” he whispered.
“I think it’s a possibility. I’d get that checked by some electronics sweepers tomorrow if I were you.”
“So you believe me, then. Someone is setting me up?”
“I believe you want me to think that. However, bringing me supposed evidence that someone set you up and letting me search a room you know is clean is also a pretty damned clever way to cover up your involvement.”
He stepped closer and searched her face. “You don’t believe that,” he whispered.
Stepping around him and heading for the bedroom door, she said, “You don’t have the right to know what I believe. I need to go.”
He hurried after her, his heart thudding a little loudly in his chest.
As they moved through the quiet hallway, Hawk wondered how far he could push his luck. So what if she was a cop here on official business? She’d been in his bedroom with her hands in his drawers. They’d shared dinner and a drink. Surely one little kiss couldn’t be all that big of a deal? He’d just about talked himself into trying when he heard a noise behind the door they were passing. His father’s room.
He pulled Danielle back, spun her around in his arms, and covered her mouth with his. Her initial muffled protest died in her throat when the door beside them opened and Julian looked into the hallway.
Hawk gave her credit; she gave as good as she got. She leaned into the kiss, pressing her body against his, sliding her hands along his chest and up into his hair. He cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head for a better angle. His lips moved against hers, and then he pressed with his tongue and she opened to him. Their tongues tangled, tasted, explored. A hand reached to cradle the back of her head, while an arm surrounded her waist to pull her tight against him. He rocked slightly, letting her feel the effect she was having on him.
He was lost in the moment, ready to turn her back toward his room, get her naked, and devour her.
****
Dani pulled back, dropped her arms, her chest heaving at the effort of regaining her breath.
“Yes. Well. He’s gone back in his room.” She sucked in air. “Quick thinking, Charbonnet. Come on.” She pulled him down the stairs toward the front door, and stepped from the hushed chill of Charbonnet Hall into a steamy symphony of cicadas, tree frogs, and crickets. As soon as they were outside, Dani dropped Hawk’s hand and hurried to her car.
“Danielle, wait—”
She wrenched open her car door and slid a foot inside.
He caught her just before she slipped into her seat and pulled her back out.
She quirked a look at his hand and raised an eyebrow in question.
“I’m sorry, I just…” he trailed off.
“Give me a call tomorrow. Let me know what you decide to do,” Dani said.
“What I decide…” he stammered, blinking rapidly.
“Jesus, Hawk. Pull it together. It was just a bit of undercover work. Something to throw Julian off the trail. No need to get so rattled. I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow. You need to get someone to sweep for bugs, at a minimum. Or get a room somewhere else. Let me know what you decide. Don’t leave town.” She grinned as she slipped into her car and drove away.
Chapter Four
Dani risked a glance in the rearview mirror and saw Hawk touch the tip of his fingers to his lips as he watched her drive away. A little laugh bubbled out and the smile carried her all the way back to her apartment. Then reality smacked the smile off her face. Her apartment. Shit, she’d almost forgotten.
Even though it was on the minuscule side of small and in need of some serious sprucing, it had been a good place for her to live. Near the station, with a covered parking space, and most importantly, chea
p. Everything a girl could want. Except the lease was now coming to an end. The owner wanted Dani to sign a new lease at double the current rent. It was a damned shame she couldn’t arrest the bastard for highway robbery.
She pushed the thought away. She had a month; she’d find something else. She walked up the three flights and fantasized about a place with an elevator, air-conditioning in the summer, and a laundry room. She’d swoon if it had a view. Not likely on a cop’s salary.
Her landline was ringing as she came through the door.
“Delacroiux,” she clipped.
“Detective Delacroiux, this is dispatch. We have another body for you. A floater, pier-side. Detective LeAnn Delacroiux is on scene, and asked that you be notified.”
“All right, I’m on my way. Why didn’t you call my cell?”
“We did. Detective Delacroiux radioed in after she couldn’t reach you.”
Dani’s hand flew to her pocket and found the little phone holster empty. Shit. “All right,” she said. “I’ll be on radio in five, and on scene in fifteen. Notify the officers on scene.”
Dani was glad it was her aunt that caught the body. Not just because she was a good detective. LeAnn was also a connoisseur of fine asses. Dani couldn’t wait to tell her about the new one in town.
****
Several hours later, LeAnn and Dani sat surrounded by cracked red vinyl, elbows on the warped Formica tabletop and sipped shitty coffee. Ah, nothing like an all-night diner.
“So, am I right? Do you think there’s a connection?” Dani asked.
“Yes, you nailed it when you asked to be informed about any bodies found near the river,” LeAnn said. “Now, it’s really early in the investigation—so let’s just do some off the record speculating without locking ourselves in. Crease was one of the characters that everyone along the waterfront recognized, but no one knew. He rarely saw a sober morning and didn’t own more than a shopping cart could hold. Why kill him? Who benefits?”
“Exactly,” Dani said. She watched as LeAnn added two more heaping spoonful of sugar to her already sweetened coffee. “That’s not going to help, you know.”
LeAnn sipped then screwed up her face as she set the cup down with a clatter. “Okay, that was bad. All right, enough of that,” she said, pushing the cup away with a shudder. “Back to shameless speculation. The first thing that comes to mind—maybe because it’s wishful thinking—is Crease might have been killed to keep him from talking about something he saw. Now that Beaker has bobbed to the top, wouldn’t it make sense—timeline wise—if his murder is what Crease witnessed? Speculation, I know—but run with it for a minute.”
Dani closed her eyes for a moment and pictured the skinny redhead the way he looked the last time she’d seen him. “Yeah, I could see that. Jesus…Beaker.” She snorted. “He always wore that damn lab coat. For God’s sake, what kind of drug dealer calls attention to himself that way?”
“I know. Beaker wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, but he liked looking like that character from The Muppet Show. With his bush of red hair and squeaky voice…” LeAnn trailed off, her eyes unfocused.
Dani nodded and began to outline her points. “Okay, so here’s what I figure. The timeline works if we assume Beaker was nailed early yesterday afternoon, weighted down, and tossed over the side of the pier. The murderer then realizes Crease saw something and draws him to the Mona Lisa. The killer probably figured Beaker would stay under longer. It would have been a lot harder for us to connect the two deaths if Beaker’d stayed submerged another week.”
“Yep,” LeAnn agreed. “Obviously, we’ll still look at everything, but I like the way this feels. We can work the cases together since they appear to have some connection, but we won’t make a big deal out of it—no sense getting the press excited over something we don’t actually know.”
“The press or Uncle Beau?” Dani laughed and waggled her eyebrows.
“What the Chief of Detectives doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I’ll pull the security video from the street, see if I can identify any of the vehicles in the area. I’ve got the names of a couple of folks seen around the Pier, but I’m not anywhere near the whole story yet.
“Beaker has been dealing drugs down there off and on for a few years, right?” LeAnn continued. “We’ll have to check with Vice to see if they have a line on who he worked for. On the surface, it looks like a straight drug deal gone south and an unfortunate witness. I don’t know, though. Something about the whole thing feels off to me.”
Dani thought a minute. “Who is that other weasel down there all the time? I think he informs for Beau. Miskit, Merkit…”
“Maskot,” LeAnn supplied. “Yeah, he did quite a bit of informing for Beau at one time. Used to be the guy in the costume at the football games until his junior year, that’s where the handle came from. Then he got messed up on crack. Switched to heroin, started selling to support his habit. I think he’s pretty far gone now. I’ll ask Beau.”
Apparently forgetting her earlier distaste, LeAnn reached for her cup and took another sip of coffee, made a face, and reached for the sugar again. “Who are you talking to? Any good leads?”
Dani responded with a question of her own. “Do you think the Généreux PD has a leak?”
“Why? What have you heard?” LeAnn asked, her hand tightening on the spoon she held.
“I was talking to someone tonight who said that anything I put in an official report would be known within a few hours. Is that true?”
“Shit!” LeAnn hissed and leaned across the table, even though there was no one sitting near them in the diner. “Is your source reliable? Will he talk to me?”
“LeAnn? Is there something going on that you’re not telling me?” Dani whispered.
LeAnn scanned the restaurant once more, her eyes flat, face set. Dani knew whatever was bothering LeAnn must be big. She waited patiently.
“Dani, I’m not kidding, you can’t breathe a word of this to anyone,” LeAnn said. “We know there’s a leak, and it’s my job to plug it. We’re moving slow so we don’t tip anyone off. It doesn’t happen with any regularity, which is what’s making it so hard to pinpoint. Any guesses as to who it ties to?”
Dani knew. “Julian Charbonnet.”
LeAnn nodded slowly. “So what do you think? Will your source talk to me?”
“Let’s go back to the murders for a second,” Dani said slowly. “You asked about other leads. So far, not much of one, but I only got it a few hours ago. After I cleared the scene, I went to the Pier and found Constantine holding a private meeting with some cowboy. Both of them were spewing macho bullshit, and it turned out the stranger was an attorney who made noises about his rights.
“So I pulled out my right to question anyone near the vicinity of a crime, which was pretty lame, since the murder took place at the Mona Lisa. He gives a nod and hands me his ID, no more trouble. I give it a quick glance, and lo and behold, I’d just met Mr. Hawk Charbonnet, prodigal son of Julian.
“Hawk didn’t want to talk there on the Pier, so he invited me to Charbonnet Hall. I showed him pictures of Crease and the crime scene, but didn’t give him any details. No surprise that he denied any knowledge. No one knows anything, right?”
LeAnn’s face was intent, a little furrow between her eyebrows as she concentrated on what her niece was saying. Dani weighed her options and decided she needed to tell it all. She filled LeAnn in about the matching tie and handkerchief, about dinner, the late-night trip to the mansion, and Hawk’s claim of being framed.
“He asked me not to put some of this information in the official report until absolutely necessary. Said it would be in Julian’s hands within a few hours if I did.”
“Do you believe him?” LeAnn asked.
Dani stared at her hands and thought it over. Meeting LeAnn’s gaze, she said, “About that? Yeah, I do. There’s no reason for him to lie to me about that.”
“What are you hedging on, Dani?”
“I’m not sure why
he told me. He said he was distancing himself from his father’s business interests and needed more time.”
“But you think it might be something else?”
“He wanted to have dinner with me,” Dani said. “Later, Julian nearly caught us sneaking out of Hawk’s room, so we kissed to throw the old man off track. It should have been easy to pretend we were making out, but all of a sudden, I’m not sure we were. It got real hot, real quick.
“Part of me wonders if he’s just softening me up, trying to get closer. Given the history between my mom and Julian, between our two families, it’s not much of a stretch to think there might be some hidden agenda.”
These days, Dani’s mother, Clare Cortland, was a prominent psychologist and local radio talk show personality. She and Julian had played cat and mouse for years—long before Dani was born. Clare never referenced her past and claimed no knowledge of the reason for Julian’s obsession.
A wealthy man with a shadowy past, Clare seemed to be his only weakness. And although thin on admissible evidence, the Généreux Police Department’s file on Charbonnet showed probable connections to loan sharking, prostitution, black market oil, and if rumors could be added to the mix, murder. Her mother was in a position to help gather evidence but was steadfast in her refusal. Whatever the reason, Dani was positive her father, also known as Captain Richard Delacroiux had his suspicions. Or maybe Dad was the reason behind it all. What in the hell was the reason for such a long-standing feud?
As to why she’d refused to testify against him when Julian had kidnapped her several years earlier, Clare had again remained quiet. If pressed, she used the questions as an opportunity to educate the public about the sometimes-random nature of a stalker. Clare excelled at playing the long-suffering victim. Shaking off thoughts of her mother and Julian, Dani looked at the woman across from her.
