The Devil's Orchard
Page 3
“What act?” Cain asked, and surprised all three of them.
“Your lady-in-waiting with the crocodile tears,” she said.
“It’s like I always tell you, cousin, patience. There’s a time for everything, and Shelby’s turn is coming up.”
Chapter Two
Remi Jatibon stood off to the side of the camera crew as they set up their shots behind the St. Louis Cathedral in the French Quarter. Production of the sequel to the film Lady Killers had started the week before, and this was as close as she’d gotten to her partner, Dallas Montgomery, in all that time.
She missed Dallas in the morning, but seeing her focused on something other than the ordeal with her bastard father was a relief. In her position as the next in line to take over for her father, Ramon, Remi had always been the aggressor in any situation. No one could win everything, but weakness wasn’t something she was truly familiar with.
For Dallas, though, it had been a constant companion from the moment Johnny Moores killed their mother. Remi hated referring to Johnny as the father of Dallas and her sister, Kristen, but that was the sad, unfair truth. Once he’d beaten Sarah Moores to death, Dallas’s childhood had come to an end. That fateful night Johnny had committed murder, then crawled into his daughter’s bed. It took time for Katie Lynn Moores to work up the courage to run, but she had, and morphed into Dallas Montgomery, successful actress.
“For an action movie, this is slower than paste,” Kristen said when she arrived and looped her arm through Remi’s.
The one happy casualty of Johnny’s actions had been Dallas’s place in the French Quarter when she and Kristen had moved in with Remi. The three of them were even discussing something more permanent than her condo, like a house. The condo was big enough, but Dallas always joked about the bachelor pad as just that, a shrine to Remi’s unencumbered life. A new house would allow the sisters to put their mark on it and make it something they’d never had together—a safe and happy home. Until then she was getting to know Kristen and helping her finish her studies in finance.
“Welcome to the glamorous life of movie-making,” she said, and kissed Kristen’s temple. “Once you live through the process you’ll think international banking is a hotbed of excitement when you compare both careers.”
“Dallas has better perks, though,” Kristen said, and waved to her sister when she emerged from her trailer with her costar.
“What, long hours with catering?”
“No, good-looking studio head and catering,” Kristen said, and laughed. Since her arrival, Kristen hadn’t dated or shown interest in anyone, but she had confided in Remi and Dallas one night at dinner. Kristen didn’t consider herself a lesbian, but couldn’t really imagine herself in a relationship with a man either. When she’d advised patience on that subject, Kristen’s response had been firm in the negative. She’d told Remi it’d be hard to convince her otherwise after Johnny had locked them in a box for almost twenty-four hours as he drove them “home” to get “reacquainted.”
“I don’t know any of those, but we’ve dealt with some cute bankers through the years that I could introduce you to.”
“Thanks, but I’m happy for now watching my sister enjoy being happy and in love. Being alone that way doesn’t bother me.”
“This is a nice surprise,” Dallas said before Remi could respond. It was humorous to Remi that she was becoming one of those people who wanted what she had with Dallas to be contagious.
“I’m not surprising you. I’m here to oversee my investment,” she said, and tried to sound gruff.
“All business, huh?” Dallas held her hand as if not daring to risk her makeup with a kiss.
“You having fun yet?” Remi kissed Dallas’s palm.
“I’ll probably have more fun tomorrow, since we’re having the normal first-day catastrophes. We usually have problems, but today it seems like nothing’s going right. Hopefully in a day or so everyone will be in the groove.”
“It could be worse, sis.” Kristen took Dallas’s other hand. “You could be slinging hash somewhere wearing an attractive hairnet.”
“Thanks for the pep talk, and we’ll be at this until late, so you two should make plans for dinner that don’t include me.” The director started yelling, so their time was up. “Love you,” she said to Remi, “and you too,” to Kristen.
“Have fun, and if anyone gives you a hard time, tell them you know people.”
Dallas laughed before taking her place next to the car they’d be using throughout filming. Remi and Kristen stayed for another half hour before Remi gave Kristen a ride to the Tulane campus.
“Can I treat you to dinner tonight?” Kristen asked when they pulled over.
“No, but I’ll be happy to treat you if you don’t mind that we’ll have company. Name the place and time.”
Kristen gave Remi the information and accepted a kiss on the cheek before she got out. Instinct told Remi to put someone with Kristen, but she wanted her to enjoy this time where a good time and fun were her only responsibilities.
“Is that going to be a problem?” Simon Jimenez asked as she rejoined the slow traffic on St. Charles Avenue. Simon was her personal guard as well as friend. She and her partner Juno had escaped Fidel Castro’s regime with her parents years before.
“It’s a crush that’ll be crushed the moment she finds one of these college boys interesting.” Remi read over the information her twin brother Mano had sent the night before. Their purchase of the casino in Mississippi and the studio in partnership with Cain was starting to increase their legitimate incomes significantly. Both businesses were perfect for laundering the money that was hard to explain to the IRS.
“The last few months have been hard enough, so what happens if this is more than that? Are you willing to gamble with what Dallas has brought into your life if something small turns into a huge misunderstanding?”
“We’re nowhere close to that happening, but I’ll talk to Dallas before we get there.” She put the paperwork aside and looked out the window on the way to the office. “Anything else since this morning?”
“Muriel and Katlin confirmed for tonight, and Cain said she’ll be at your father’s in the morning for breakfast and conversation. That’ll give you time to get through the list Juno made for you.” Simon and Juno not only lived one floor down from the penthouse, but they both had worked for first Remi’s father and now her.
“Is Papi or Mano going to the meeting today?”
“Both of them are going. Ramon trusts your brother the same as you, but this is all new to him, so he figured another set of ears couldn’t hurt.”
When Cain offered them a piece of her new venture as a sign of good faith to their fairly new alliance, Remi had agreed on the spot. While her father wasn’t exactly upset with her decision, he’d gently reminded her where they’d made their money in the past. There was plenty of illegal liquor in their Pescador Clubs, but it was for customer relations, not money. Their money came from the gambling tables, not booze, and when you took huge risks with unknown things it could be disastrous.
“What’s your opinion about all this?” she asked Simon.
Simon glanced at her momentarily in the rearview mirror. “When I was growing up in Cuba, this group terrorized my friends every day on the playground. They were cruel and didn’t care who they hurt, and since they were always together, they had all the power.” Simon had met her father when they were children.
“Papi put up with that? I’ve got a hard time seeing him as a bully.”
“Ramon is a man much like his father, both in character and in choice of profession.” Simon parked in their usual spot and turned in the seat so they faced each other. “He was no bully, and after suffering the humiliation of a fat lip and bloody nose, he learned a valuable lesson.”
Remi was riveted, never having heard this story, which was strange considering her father’s love of nostalgia. “Did he hire a hit team?” she joked.
“He formed an allia
nce with every kid who was tired of getting kicked in the teeth every day. Strength comes from our fists sometimes, but in most situations it comes from the people who stand with you and how many there are.”
“So my faith in Cain is good?”
“Cain will always hold more power than you, Remi. Her operations are larger and better insulated from both vultures and the police, and because of the time her family’s been in the city, she has more friends who are loyal to her.”
Simon’s expression was, as usual, controlled, not giving away anything in her head or heart. “So you disagree with me?”
“When you were shot I almost lost my sanity, and I believe Mano did as well. Had that killer succeeded, your parents would’ve never survived.” The words put a crack in the façade, and Simon’s voice trembled with emotion. Remi didn’t really remember the impact, but her first meeting with her brother, her parents, and Dallas still made icy fingers spread from the spot on her chest where the vest stopped the bullet. Never had she seen her parents so broken by what she saw—fear.
“We’ve never really talked about that day.”
“All I want to remember of that nightmare is the person responsible for keeping you and our family safe. Cain’s planning and forethought kept you alive, and she proved herself to me as a true friend who’ll not only stand with you, but who can be trusted.” Simon took a deep breath as if trying to center herself again. “Your decision to join her on this is a good thing. I don’t like going against your father, not that he opposes the plan, but it’ll help you build your future. On the playground we navigate, it’s good to be on the side you can not only count on but that has the biggest number.”
“Thanks, Simon,” she said as she squeezed her friend’s shoulder. “What about Cain’s enemies?”
“A true partnership is one where you accept not only the rewards, but the problems. I like Cain because her need for vengeance doesn’t cloud her mind, so she doesn’t become sloppy. I saw the same quality in a boy I met long ago, and that control worked well for him in all things. It’s a trait he passed along to you and Mano.”
Remi laughed at Simon’s explanation and decided to let go of any concern she’d had about this venture. Cain would always be more powerful than her, but she did trust her not only in business but to stand with them in any circumstance. And after all the help she’d given to free Dallas from her past, she was forever in Cain’s debt.
“Let’s hope this goes as well as the rest of my life is.” As soon as the words left her mouth she felt like she was tempting fate, but she was too happy to care. “Because that’s as good as I could’ve imagined it being.”
*
Juan watched from the backseat of his rental as Remi Jatibon walked into her office building. He grimaced again, his jaw like a beehive where the doctor had placed the implants that’d completely changed his facial structure. It was like an itch he’d have to rip his skin off to get to.
“Gustavo, you want to wait until she comes out?” Enrique “Chico” Chavez asked as he tapped his palm against his knee, a nervous habit that was whipping Juan’s anger into a froth. Chico and the three others who’d traveled with him were his mother’s idea, and he hadn’t been able to dissuade her.
“If you’ve got something better to do, get lost.” Even though he knew it wouldn’t do any good, he scratched hard from his ear to his chin, following his jawline. His true identity and the resemblance to his late father were two more things Cain Casey had stolen from him. “Tell me when she leaves,” he said, and closed his eyes to wait for the small taste of coke to work away his discomfort.
Along with Cain he cursed Special Agent Anthony Curtis every day. The bastard was bedding his mother and gaining more leverage with her, but he’d been right. To get what he wanted he’d need to have a solid plan and practice patience. He’d do both, since his smash-and-grab approach hadn’t gotten him anything but a lecture from both his mother and Anthony.
“Jerome,” he mumbled, trying to get used to the new name. Even now when his men said “Gustavo” he at times didn’t respond.
“I thought you wanted Cain Casey?” Chico asked, as if trying to make small talk.
“What the fuck do you care what I want? Your job is to do whatever I tell you.” The temperature was starting to climb, and the sweat running down his back was making his clothes stylish straitjackets.
“Did I do something to piss you off?” Chico asked. They were the same age, but Chico was tall and handsome, with a personality that made him popular with his other men.
“I don’t need a babysitter and a confessor.”
“I volunteered to come and help you, we all did.”
That was hard to believe. From the day he’d started working for his uncle Rodolfo until now, Juan was smart enough to know it was his name that garnered respect—not him. Had he been born to parents as poor as his father had been, he’d have been killed long ago, or left to die.
“You don’t have to lie or talk in an effort to get close to me,” he said as he opened his eyes. “Once I get what I want, you’ll be free to run back to Gracelia for your reward.”
“Don’t you want to know why I volunteered?”
The heat, the itch, and this asshole were making him miserable. “If I ask, will you shut the fuck up?”
“Señora Luis is a smart woman, and I support her taking control of what Señor Rodolfo had, but the future always lies in the next generation. I volunteered to work with you because the power will fall to you next. This she’s made clear.” Chico seemed sincere, and had it been Rodolfo he was talking to, Juan knew he’d be dead. Pledging loyalty to anyone other than the boss was suicide. “How we got here isn’t my concern.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“How Rodolfo died and who killed him aren’t important to me,” Chico said as he pushed the lapel of his jacket back to expose the holstered pistol. “I served him, and now I want to serve you.”
“Your pledge doesn’t sound sincere if you don’t give a shit about who killed your boss. If the same happens to me, will you try to cut a deal with whoever pulls the trigger?”
“Would you like me to avenge him?” Chico asked, almost as a taunt.
The pistol was still in his line of sight and he knew better than to try to bluff a man like this. He’d kill him and lay the blame on whoever suited him to gain favor with whoever would benefit from his death.
“We’re here because the way to what I want starts here,” he said, and pointed to the building. “Rodolfo taught me the way to knock something out of your way is to start with the foundation, not the roof. Gracelia tried that and failed, but she started too low to make an impact.”
“This woman will do that? Make an impact, I mean.”
He thought of Remi and Cain’s partnership. “Yes, and even if I fail it’ll break apart the strength of an alliance Casey depends on. Once I peel away the layers I’ll finally not only take Casey out, but I’ll get my reward.”
“Her business?”
“No, her woman. With Casey out of my way, I’m going to fuck Emma Casey to death, and I’ll enjoy every moment of it.”
*
The drab interior of the conference room in the FBI offices in downtown New Orleans was quiet as the people of acting team leader Special Agent Joe Simmons waited for Special Agent in Charge Annabel Hicks. Their surveillance of Casey and her businesses had been assigned to another team for the day because of this review.
“Let’s get started,” Annabel said as she sat with her assistant right behind her.
“Certainly, ma’am,” Joe said, determined to keep his answers brief so Annabel would set the parameters of the meeting. His years in the field had taught him to never give any tactical ground if he didn’t have to.
“Well?” Annabel snapped the word at him like a lash from a whip.
“What can we do for you, ma’am?” Claire Lansing asked.
“Let’s start with where Shelby Philips is and continue from t
here.”
“You put her undercover with Muriel Casey, and their relationship fooled even us,” Joe said, not caring if his sarcasm got him written up. “You were her only contact, which is ludicrous considering who she was after. What was her out if things had gone south?”
“Watch yourself, Mr. Simmons,” Annabel said icily. “Shelby is a capable agent, and her time with Muriel Casey did uncover some useful insights and leads on how Cain Casey does business.”
“Ma’am, no disrespect, but we’ve been sitting on that warehouse for weeks and nothing,” said Lionel Jones, the team’s computer expert. “The closest we’ve come to any type of alcohol is the winos sleeping off their buzz in the parking lot surrounding the building. Could this be another Casey herring since she knows what Shelby was up to?”
“If you’d like me to find you all something more exciting to do, I’ll be happy to oblige,” Annabel said.
“Then to answer your question, ma’am,” Joe said, in an effort to cool everyone down, “Shelby’s somewhere inside Cain’s house, just like she’s been from the day you forced leave on her. Since we’ve been listening to ‘It’s a Small World’ on a loop for most of that time, I have no report as to why she’s there.”
“Find out, then,” Annabel screamed, uncharacteristically. “Can everyone wait outside, please?” she said after she pulled the front of her jacket down and took a deep breath.
“We’ve followed every lead from what you gave us, and we still don’t have anything,” Joe said. “Shelby has lost any inroads she made with the Caseys because of her initial reaction to her parents’ deaths, and I’m sure she thinks we’ve turned our backs on her as well.” He’d been a good agent for years because he followed the rules, but it frustrated the hell out of him when superiors at times turned that around on good people. Shelby had done everything Annabel had asked of her, and her reward now was banishment for as long as Annabel deemed appropriate.
“By next week this entire office will be under investigation for the actions of agents like Barney Kyle and Anthony Curtis.” Annabel sounded flat, as if she was waiting for the firing squad to arrive.