The Devil's Orchard

by Ali Vali

  “You’ll never admit it, but you willingly went into that place and gorged yourself. Don’t lie and tell me otherwise.” Shelby pressed her hands together as if in prayer. “Do you hate me so much that denying me this is a joke to you?”

  “I don’t hate you, Shelby. I don’t trust you.” She took Emma’s hand as Shelby looked at her with an expression of disbelief. “There’s a difference.”

  “You talk about sin and temptation, but you gave in. The Bracatos are dead just like anyone else who’s ever crossed you, so don’t preach or try to save my soul.” Shelby clenched her fists and jaw as she spoke. “I don’t need your advice, I need your help.”

  “Then what?” Cain asked in the same clipped pattern Shelby was using. “I’m supposed to deliver these guys, line them up, and watch you kill them all? After that, what, we shake hands and go back to opposite sides and pretend it never happened?” With so much talk about temptation, she tried not to go with the urge to fling Shelby out the front door. “To you I’m a devil who needs to be locked away, but because you’re angry you’re willing to look the other way. The Bracatos aren’t my problem, so don’t pretend to know what happened or how I fit in. You should be familiar with the Bureau’s response when Big Tony killed my family. Did you close that case yet?”

  “No, but there’s no denying it is closed.”

  Emma squeezed Cain’s fingers when she started to say something else. “You have a strange way of asking for a favor, Agent Phillips,” Emma said in a way that telegraphed her bad mood. “I know you find it hard to believe Cain is simply a businesswoman, but there you have it. I’m truly sorry for your loss, but if you want a homicidal maniac’s help, try your employer. Annabel seems to breed them. We can’t help you.”

  Cain stood and opened the door, since Emma had wrapped up nicely. She had nothing else to add. “Take care, Shelby, and give my best to Detective O’Brannigan. That’s such a nice Irish name. I’m surprised she’s still here in New Orleans.”

  “The case originated here, and she feels she owes it to my father to find these guys, so she’s applying for transfer.” Shelby hesitated, as if it would take Lou to carry her out. “At least she understands and is willing to help.”

  “I wish you both the best of luck, then.”

  “How do you know her name?”

  “Fascinating people are a hobby of mine,” she said as she waved her hand toward the front of the house. “If she’s planning to settle here, we’ll send a fruit basket.”

  The sarcasm made Shelby frown and got her moving. “I thought you’d be more sympathetic.”

  “I am,” she said when Shelby stopped a foot beside her. “But your fight isn’t mine to wage. Hypothetically, if I were in your place, the death of those most precious to me would be personal. It’s not something I’d trust to anyone else, no matter how good at killing I think they are.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Grow your own orchard, Shelby, and decide how big a sin you’re willing to commit. You’ll have to carry your answer for eternity, so be honest with yourself.” She smiled at Carmen and walked Shelby to the door herself.

  “Hypothetically, how would you carry something like that?”

  “Without guilt, but then my orchard is a place to…frolic. Yeah, that’s a good word for it.”

  “So the devil has no remorse?”

  “Even God feels remorse, and I’m not that perfect. What you asked for will stay between us, so be careful of talking to anyone else about it. From what I hear, the FBI and other authorities frown upon revenge killings.”

  *

  Fiona O’Brannigan stood in concourse B of the New Orleans airport staring down the slope and trying to spot her mother. Judice O’Brannigan had surprisingly decided to visit at the last minute, right after Fiona had told her about her transfer. She’d received a return call ten minutes after that conversation with the flight information.

  The usually stoic and hardworking Judice didn’t often indulge in whims like this.

  Despite the last-minute warning, Fiona was happy her mom was here. Judice had been a single parent when society hadn’t been very accepting of the concept, and the crap they’d endured together had made them extremely close. She planned to convince her mother to move to New Orleans too.

  When her mother started toward her, she laughed at the number of men who stared. Even in her late sixties, Judice was an attractive woman who prided herself on her appearance. Why she did mystified her. She never sought companionship of any kind that Fiona knew of.

  At first she thought her mother didn’t feel comfortable sharing her sexuality, and when she’d told her mother it was okay if she was gay, Judice had laughed and assured her that if she were interested in women, she’d happily settle down with one. After that, with no further explanation, Fiona had no choice but to spin her own story to fill in those gaps.

  In her version her father had died before they could marry and her mom hadn’t gotten over him enough to allow someone else in. Perhaps she couldn’t talk about him because of the pain she was still in. Whoever he was, her father and the rest of her mother’s past were closed subjects.

  “I’m hot already,” Judice said as they hugged.

  “Some of those guys you flew in with certainly thought so.” Fiona took her mother’s bags, freeing Judice to give her a light slap to her midsection. “You’re beautiful, Mom, accept it.”

  “That’s a small consolation. I’m losing my baby to this heat. You’ll have a constant sunburn.”

  “I’ve lived in California all my life. I know how to use sunscreen.” They descended on the escalator to baggage claim, and the teasing about her decision started taking on a different tone. Her mom wanted to change her mind but was trying to be subtle about it. “Did you have a nice flight?”

  “Small talk, sweetling?” Judice asked with a smile that was the definition of melancholy. “You don’t have to humor me that much.”

  “I’ll have to until you admit you’re either pissed with me or something else is going on.” She hefted the hideous pink faux-snakeskin roller bag and led the way to her car. Her mother was right that it was easy to spot on the carrousel, but then she had to walk with the damn thing.

  “I’m not upset,” Judice said when they sat next to each other in the garage. “I just don’t understand. You walked a beat for years waiting for that gold shield, and now that you have it, you run and hide down here.” Fiona lowered her head when her mom held her hand. “Tell me why, and I’ll accept it, but I haven’t heard a good reason yet.”

  “You’ve kept books all your life, and you were good at it.” Her mom had run her business from a home office, and she vividly remembered the parade of people dropping off and picking up documents and files. She’d never cared since her mom was always close by. “That’s what I want for myself. I worked my ass off to make detective grade, and the brass kept me down for years. When I entered the academy I wasn’t stupid or blind to the boys’ club, but I’m past forty, Mom. I don’t have a lot of time left to make my mark.”

  “The force here is that different?”

  “It’s good to be needed, and that’s what I have now. They want me on their streets, and they trust my skills to close cases.”

  Judice nodded and smiled again, but she still wasn’t happy. Fiona knew better than to push. Her mom would share whatever was on her mind only when she was ready. “Where are you staying? You never said.”

  “With a friend for now, but I thought you could help me decide on a place while you’re here.” Fiona glanced at her mom as she handed her credit card to the booth attendant. “Who knows, maybe you’ll find a place close to mine and we can explore together when I’m not working.”

  “Maybe,” Judice said with her head turned away from her. “Or you might get homesick.”

  “Hopefully I am home, Mom.”

  *

  “Pull,” Cain said, then tracked the clay pigeon with her shotgun. At the height of its arc, her shot
splintered it into pieces. “Pull,” she repeated, so she could empty the other barrel.

  “Good shot, Mom,” Hayden said as he waited his turn. The range she’d found was an hour from the house, and after her meeting with Shelby she’d decided they had enough daylight left to go through a box or two of targets. “We need one of these in the yard in Wisconsin.”

  “You planning to curdle some milk when our place is finished?” She cracked the barrel and tossed the spent shells in the trash bag she’d brought along. “That place is crawling with cows.”

  “How long before we can go?” Hayden asked as he loaded his birthday present, the shotgun that was a replica of hers. “I think Granddad misses it.”

  “Jerry told me another month, so we’ll go check it out when school ends.” She watched as he took his turn, smiling when he shot at the same point she had with the same results. At moments like this she really missed her Da. Casey family traditions would be passed down for generations to come, if she had any say, but the lessons would’ve been richer with her Da looking on. “I’m ready for my milking lesson.”

  Lou and Mook stood close by watching for any potential threats. A gun range could be the perfect place for a hit, and she’d sighed loudly the fourth time Lou had said it. The second target fell to the ground intact, and she couldn’t make out what Hayden was muttering. She guessed it was a litany of curse words he didn’t think she knew he used at times. Cursing was something she indulged in only when necessary to get some idiot to understand a simple concept, like “don’t fuck with me.”

  “It’s a learning process, son,” she said, waiting for him to clear his barrels before she put her hand on the side of his neck. “Eventually no clay bird will escape your clutches.”

  She tied up the trash bag of used shells and dropped it by her feet as she slid her gun back into the leather holder. Leaving the shells behind was an invitation for a rival or an unscrupulous cop to set her up, and she knew plenty of both.

  “Can you make my game on Friday night?”

  Hayden had spent the spring on second base for his junior-high baseball team, and she’d rescheduled whatever she had to so she wouldn’t miss a game. “You know I’ll be there, along with the rest of the Casey cheering squad.”

  They talked about their upcoming plans as they walked, and she barely noted the line of people on the pistol range shooting at paper targets. There were a few more men than women, but all of them were focused on their imaginary foes. Nothing about them stood out, but the guy closest to the exit made her stop so she could see his face. Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary about him, but an invisible hand to the chest and something in her mind whispered, “Look at me.”

  “What?” Lou asked.

  The guy finished his clip and, as if sensing the attention, turned and stared back. His blond hair, pulled into a short ponytail, was much lighter than his eyebrows. He was short and slim, and he shrugged his shoulder in a what? motion. She’d never seen him before, but like stretching for something a hair out of your reach, she felt she should have. Something was familiar about him, but whatever it was eluded her. He pushed another clip into the big shiny gun, which struck her as a flashy piece for such a twerp, but he acted harmless.

  “Nothing.” She steered them toward the car and didn’t look back.

  “You sure, Mom?” Hayden asked as she walked away.

  “Yeah,” she said, but she wasn’t being honest. At the car she gave in to the need to find the guy again, but he was gone. Probably into the restroom, she thought, since the entrance was close to where he was. “Maybe I’m hungry.”

  “That’s Mom’s line.”

  “Boy, you say that to her face, and you’d better hide that gun.”

  Chapter Five

  “Mom,” Hannah said from Cain’s lap the next morning, “I need a pony.”

  “Has Mama been telling pony stories again?” She laughed when Emma stuck her tongue out at her. “Your mama’s short, so what she had wasn’t a pony. It was a puppy.”

  “I need a puppy, then,” Hannah said quickly.

  “Your birthday is the perfect time to ask your mama for that.” Hayden laughed at her answer, probably remembering a dog that had slipped his five-year-old mind when he’d asked and been put off. “Are you ready for school?”

  “I need my shoes.” Hannah held up her bare feet.

  “Come here, Miss Puppy,” Emma said as she held her hand up. “You don’t want to be late.”

  “It’s okay, Mama,” Hannah said. “I don’t mind being late.”

  “I mind, so let’s get your shoes on,” Emma said, then shook her head when Hannah took off at a fast run. “Do you have your permission slip?” she asked Hayden.

  “I packed it last night along with the money you gave me for lunch.”

  “Where are you headed?” Cain asked.

  “The World War Two Museum. They got a local veteran to take us on the tour. Cool, huh?”

  Trips away from school worried Cain. She always had to balance trying to keep them safe with letting them live as normal a childhood as they could. She didn’t want either of their children to think of this time as a prison or a microscope, where they were constantly being watched.

  “They needed some volunteers, so Mook offered his services,” Emma said, as if reading her mind.

  “Have fun.” She hugged Hayden before he left to gather his things.

  “You don’t think they’d touch the kids, do you?” Emma asked as she came beside her and rested her arm around her shoulder.

  “I don’t ever like to worry you, lass, but to get what he wants, I believe Juan will do anything. To use children would be unacceptable to me, Ramon, and Vincent, but that’s not who we’re dealing with. If he got that lucky, I’d have no choice but to give him anything, aside from you, that he wants.” The frustration of being so blind to what dangers lurked out there made her want to punch a hole in the table. All the time and money she’d spent on hunting Juan and to have nothing infuriated her.

  “Because you’re so self-sacrificing I called the school and suggested they needed more volunteers who were licensed to carry firearms,” Emma said, and kissed the top of her head. Cain said another prayer of thanks to whatever higher power had sent her Emma as a partner. And she was certainly becoming that in every aspect.

  “Thank you for that, my love. Maybe I should put you in charge of finding Juan and Anthony. We’d be done with all that by now.”

  “I appreciate the confidence, but I have a job.” Emma dropped into her lap and kissed her on the lips. “Wife and mother is full-time enough, so you’ll have to deal with the rest. I’m sure some women think I’m letting down females everywhere by sounding so domestic, but their last name isn’t Casey. Those two roles carry a bit more meaning because my name is.”

  “Those are my most important jobs too, so don’t worry about the rest.” She laid her hand on their baby and felt Emma take a deep breath. “You need me to run any errands for you today?”

  “I just have a few phone calls left, and I don’t want you to change your mind,” Emma said before she kissed her again.

  “Change my mind?” She laughed as she stood with Emma cradled in her arms. “Juan has a better chance at stealing you away from me than me changing my mind.”

  “There’s no chance in hell Juan’s getting anything from me.”

  “Then I’ll be waiting at the altar for you, Mrs. Casey. And once you arrive it’ll be my honor to tell our friends and God how much I love you, as well as how I intend to spend my life with you.”

  “I’m looking forward to saying the same, and once I do the honeymoon begins.” Emma bit her bottom lip with enough pressure to make her hard. She felt such a rush of emotion she had to sit again.

  “You’re going to make me late, and I have my shoes on,” Cain said as she moved her hand up Emma’s thigh.

  “Just a little preview of things to come.” Emma stood up and smoothed her linen slacks. “But that’ll have to
wait since I’m expected at Hannah’s school this morning. I’m in charge of story time today.”

  “Be careful and call me when you’re done.”

  “Should be right before lunch.”

  “Good, then you can’t turn down my date offer.” She held Emma’s hand as they walked to the front door. “Will you be free for lunch?”

  “For you, always.” Emma kissed her again. “Good morning, Sabana,” She wiped lipstick from Cain’s lips. “Are you ready to go back to school?”

  After Emma’s cheery question, Cain smiled at Sabana Greco’s expression. Sabana had asked to be assigned with her instead of Emma for so long she’d threatened to let her go altogether. Like their father, Sabana’s brother Rick had worked for the family, but some of Juan’s men had killed him. From her arrival, she had wanted the chance to avenge her loss and thought Cain was being unfair when she ordered her to keep an eye on Emma.

  “I can’t wait.”

  “One more bathroom break and I’ll be ready,” Emma said.

  “I know you’re still not happy with me, but you do realize I’ve entrusted Emma’s life to you, right?” Cain didn’t raise her voice, but she wanted to come across as stern. “If something happens to her while you’re busy pouting, your mother will lose another child. Do we understand each other?”

  “Perfectly, but I’d be more useful on the street looking for these assholes.”

  “My daughter, the word sponge, is running around here waiting for her mother, so watch your language,” she said as she glanced up the stairs to see if Hannah was peeking back at her. “And when Juan comes back, who do you think might be at the top of his list of people to visit? Me, who wants to rip his balls off, or his crush, Emma?”