The Devil's Orchard (21 page)

“I believe you, since she’s kicked my ass from day one.”

Cain stopped Katlin short of the door and smiled. “Let’s hope you remember how.”

“How hard do you want to go?”

“Let’s remind them that stupidity is often frowned upon. If they’re having trouble breathing out of their nose, they might be motivated to choose their words more carefully next time.” Katlin took one of her guns out and held it by the barrel as she knocked. She heard only a muffled noise and someone saying something in an agitated way, and she looked directly at the peephole.

Luce Fournier opened the door in a robe, with tousled hair and bloodshot eyes. If she was armed she hid it well, so Cain let Katlin go in first. Before Luce could lift her hands in defense Katlin smashed the butt of her gun into the center of her face. The sound was like a pumpkin hitting a sidewalk from five stories up, and Luce ran to the bedroom and dropped to her knees, her hands pressed to her nose.

“Hello, Nicolette,” Cain said as Nicolette sat on the bed and clutched the sheet under her chin. “You asked to see me?”

“What the hell are you doing?” It obviously didn’t matter that she was naked, because Nicolette got up and went to Luce. The blood now leaked through her fingers. “You could’ve killed her.”

“I still might,” Cain said, taking another robe from the closet and throwing it to her. “And she might not be the only one leaving via the laundry chute, so listen carefully.”

“Give it a rest,” Nicolette said, her French accent still thick. “This is excessive even for you.” The robe stayed where it’d dropped as Nicolette went into the bathroom for a towel, wisely leaving the door open since Katlin now held her gun correctly.

“Put the goddamn robe on and sit down. You stretched your limits last night, and that was enough to get my attention.”

Nicolette took her time with the robe and didn’t lose eye contact with her as she tied it. “If only you’d been this enthusiastic about seeing me when we were both free.”

“Let’s be clear about a few things so you can take this idiot you brought to do business in your name to the hospital. Once you get that opportunity, do I need to say what a bad idea it’d be to go with any other story except that she slipped in the shower?”

“Since you just mentioned it,” Nicolette said sarcastically, “I guess so.”

“You’ve left me no choice but to repeat myself. We cut a deal after months, and she,” she pointed to Luce and was amazed how fast her eyes had bruised, “changed it. I say no deal, and you’re throwing threats around in my club. When someone shows such a lack of intelligence I have to do something to get through their thick skulls. That’s when everyone always figures out their hard heads are in reality incredibly fragile.”

“Last night was all in jest, Cain. Have you lost your humor now that you are older?” Nicolette sat with half her body turned away from Cain, but she figured it was to hide the scar on the side of her face.

“I love a good joke and a good time, but I never find my name and FBI in the same sentence funny. If you can’t understand that, it’s time for you to go home.”

“Have dinner with me so I can talk to you about what happened. We worked too long on this to give up so easily. We were such great friends once, and you risked your life for mine, so let us explore how good we can be together.”

“Your brain must be wine-soaked.” Cain glanced at Katlin and nodded. With her permission silently given to do anything, Katlin kicked Luce in the stomach. The blow made Luce let go of her face, and when she fell forward, a small pool of blood dripped onto the carpet. “I thought all these years would’ve taught you something, considering you have a father like Michel.”

“So I’m an imbecile because the great Dalton Casey didn’t raise me?” Nicolette said, and it appeared she held back from spitting on her. “You’re an animal like your father, except for one thing.”

Luce looked between them and put a hand back on her nose.

“You might want to reconsider this woman’s commitment to you because this next question might hurt.” Cain smiled and turned to Nicolette. “I’m dying to know. How am I different from my father?”

“The woman you picked. I would’ve predicted someone with more backbone, but you went for the blond American you could control. Are you so weak that you bypassed a spirited partner who could’ve been your equal? What happened to the woman who saved me from more than this?” Nicolette turned and ran her finger down the now slightly white line down her face.

That night, right before their graduation ceremony, Cain had almost given in to this woman. Nicolette had played her right, but she hadn’t given in fast enough and Nicolette had run out into the French Quarter in a fit of temper. Bad luck had trailed her out of the bar when she ran right into the arms of a freak who’d given her the permanent souvenir.

“Let that go.” She traced the same path Nicolette had on her own face. “You’re better than to let something like that scar define you.” She stood and motioned Katlin to the door. “Leave, Nicolette, while Lucy here takes all your lessons for you this time. Though,” she bent and slapped Luce’s cheek softly, “next time, Lucy, politeness will get you much further than this bullshit you think is tough.”

“You’re not going to defend the little woman?” Nicolette asked tauntingly.

“Emma is my equal partner, the mother of my children, and she asked me one thing when it came to you.”

“What? Please come home to her and not cheat? Was she afraid I’d steal you away?”

“She asked me not to kill you in honor of our new baby. Leave today and I’ll give in to her
weakness
.” She walked to the door and stopped. “You’ve got a day, Nicolette. If you want to test me—stay. Lucy might not be too happy if you’re in a defiant mood.”

“Her name is Luce.”

“If I learned anything at all through the years, it’s that when you’re the bitch on your knees bleeding profusely, I can call you whatever I want.”

*

“Why now?” Annabel asked Shelby after Shelby had told her she was ready to come back. “You have time left, and the more I think about it, the more I think you should take it.”

“Unless you want to order me not to go back into the field with my team, I’m starting tomorrow. I’ve already talked to Joe so he can give me a review to get me up to speed.” She tried to keep a mild expression so Annabel would relax, because getting back to work was the only way to get close enough to what she wanted. She needed to avoid a psychological exam that’d keep her out indefinitely.

“I’m only thinking of you. Losing your parents is traumatic for anyone when it happens from natural causes, but this way tripled the grief.”

Judging from the way Annabel studied her, she was looking for that one weakness that’d make Shelby a danger if she put her back to work. That’s where she needed to be, though, since Cain had been a dead end, but her wariness hadn’t surprised her. Their relationship had always been adversarial, and what she’d asked took ultimate trust. Cain would never trust a federal agent that much. Not unless given a good reason to.

“Ma’am, I can’t sit at home and think about it anymore,” she said, going with a little of the truth. “I need to be useful and play a part in finding the animals that did this.”

“Does that mean you want to transfer to California?”

“I know and believe that Cain Casey had nothing to do with this, but I do believe it’s all related.”

Annabel nodded as Shelby spoke and stopped when she’d given her the theory she knew to be fact. “How do you know that? I’ve asked the group investigating this for updates, and they haven’t reported anything close to that.”

“Because the only part of this they knew is what happened to my parents. But think about it. My dad was a police officer, but he’d been retired for quite a few years. Any chance these were retaliation killings is a stretch.” The only way to convince Annabel was with more truth. “I’ve gone over all the information and the witness statements, and it feels like whoever did this wanted us to concentrate on Cain.”

“I’ll agree to your coming back, but you’ll have to rethink your theory. We don’t have any proof Cain’s tied into this except for a liquor bottle you found on scene.” Annabel spoke in a gentle, controlled way, which Shelby found insulting. It was like Annabel was trying to soothe an agitated mental patient. “Even that was explained away by your new roommate. That is, if Fiona O’Brannigan is still living with you.”

“No one gets ahead in this job without listening to their gut every so often. I don’t know how they’re connected yet, but they are. Cain’s not guilty of this, but someone used my parents because of her. Fiona agrees with me about that.”

“Am I going to have a problem with Fiona being on the task force Ronald took over for us? Believe me, this guy doesn’t need any more ammunition to cut us all down.”

“Fiona’s dedicated, but she won’t bend the rules for anyone.” That might not be true if they found the hit team sent after her family, but then she wouldn’t judge her for vigilante justice. “If that’s what Ronald wants, he’ll be disappointed.”

“Tread carefully, Shelby, and I’ll be glad to have you back.”

“I couldn’t leave you to the vultures.” The door opened behind her and Annabel’s eyes closed to slits. No one came into the office of the special agent in charge anywhere in the Bureau without knocking first.

“Is the building under attack?” Annabel asked through clenched teeth.

“I saw Agent Phillips, so I thought we’d get her interview out of the way.”

They’d met on a few occasions, but Ronald had a distinct, high-pitched, nasally voice that didn’t go with his sturdy build. Even when he didn’t seem to mean it, he sounded condescending. But usually he
did
mean it, since Ronald always thought himself to be the smartest guy in any room.

“Agent Phillips isn’t available until tomorrow,” Annabel said. “This is her last day of leave, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to spend it with you.”

“It’s okay, ma’am. Today might be better since I’ll probably be slammed tomorrow.” Shelby turned and noticed he hadn’t changed or aged much through the years. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m sure Agent Hickman has things to do, so come with me.” He led her to one of their interrogation rooms, where Brent waited. Ronald clicked on a recorder and placed it between them. She stared at Brent as Ronald stated his name and the date for the record. “I’m glad to see you back at work.”

“Why?” She put her hands on her lap. This wasn’t a friendly chat, so she wanted to show no reaction that could help feed Ronald’s inquisition. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but you’re here to implode the office and rebuild it into something that works better.”

“So you admit that’s necessary?”

“No one in their right mind admits to incompetence, Agent Chapman. I’m grieving the loss of my family, not mentally touched.” Brent’s snicker made her press her nails into her palm. He had to be the worst, most unprofessional agent she’d ever worked with. “We’ve done our jobs—most of us anyway,” she said as she eyed Brent.

“There’s no need for hostility, Agent. All I need from you is your opinion. Can we do anything differently in the Casey investigation?”

“Believe me, if there was a magic potion to end it successfully I’d use it, but it’s a process. Only through surveillance, good investigative work, and persistence will we finally get the break we need. No one’s perfect, and that includes Cain.”

“Very true, and thank you for your time,” he said, and turned the recorder off. “I’m sure everyone will be glad to have you back.”

“That’s it?” Such a soft approach worried her more than if he’d gone after her and threatened her with whatever came to mind if she didn’t cooperate.

“Unless you have something to add, that’s all I have.”

“I have nothing else either,” she said, and took her time leaving. Ronald was a complication she didn’t need right now.

*

“We got something,” Lionel said while they waited outside the Piquant. Somewhere in the larger van they’d taken something pinged, and Claire and Joe glanced away from their monitors. They’d stayed inside since Cain couldn’t be visiting anyone inside that made them worry.

“From inside?” Claire asked.

“Nope.” Lionel typed quickly on his laptop. The speed of his fingers had always amazed Joe. “Remember the warrant we got for Matt and Brianna Curtis’s phone?”

“Don’t tell me their idiot son Anthony called and identified himself?” Joe asked.

“I set the parameters to warn me right away if it came from either Anthony’s phone or it took less than the time people think we need to trace it.”

“So which one was it?” Claire asked.

“It was a real short conversation, so the latter.” He typed some more and smiled when he stopped to read. “It’s the same number that called once before, and that conversation was as short. I gave them the benefit of doubt the first time since it could’ve been a wrong number.”

“If that’s the case, can we get any information that helps us?” Joe read the text that’d popped on his phone. Shelby must’ve sweet-talked Annabel for a deal—anyone else would’ve been in therapy for months. “Shelby’s coming back in the morning with no restrictions.”

Lionel glanced at him, as did Claire, but they remained silent. They both seemed to be afraid that if they spoke it’d change what he’d said. Having Shelby on the team again was something they’d all been waiting for but weren’t expecting this fast.

“She’s coming back to work with us, right?” Claire asked.

“That’s what it says here.” He held his phone up. “Finish up, and maybe we’ll have a starting point in the morning.”

“Back to the phone call, then,” Lionel said, his voice higher, as if he was excited. “I needed another one to verify the beginning of a pattern, and while they’re too short for me to pinpoint the exact location, the first one came from the Cabo San Lucas area.” He typed something else and turned the laptop so they could see the map he’d put up. “Anthony’s parents live in Orange Beach, Alabama.” Lionel traced the line from Cabo to the mock pushpin in Alabama. “The second call came from somewhere in here from the same number.” He pointed to a circle that included the City Park area in New Orleans into Metairie.