The Devil's Orchard (7 page)

“Marisol is an interesting piece of work, but you’re right. You can’t trust her any more than you can trust her father.” This was another dead end, she figured, but she didn’t see any harm in trying to bounce some ideas off Jasper to see what would spark something new. “Hector would be my first guess, but if it was him he would’ve started with the small dealers.”

“Why you think so?” Jasper asked.

“Taking out small dealers endears you to the two groups that you need to keep out of your business once you start in earnest. Taking out the trash is a favor to the police since it gives them less to deal with, and it makes friends with people like you, since it’s like removing a splinter that’s been bothering you. No one’s going to die of a splinter, but it’s a pain, so imagine someone coming along and erasing those guys trying to muscle in on your territory a street corner at a time.”

Maude stood and stirred a few pots before joining them again. “Hector Delarosa is here to stay?” she asked.

“He’s my new neighbor, which is making Emma as happy as the summer heat we both know is coming. Heat and pregnancy don’t mix well.” Her phone buzzed and she handed it to Lou when she saw it was Muriel. “Back to your problem and who might be causing it.”

“Hector was first on my list, but he sat with me next door a few weeks ago and swore on his mother that he wasn’t to blame,” Jasper said.

“Did he know who was?”

“He wasn’t that insightful. If he knows, he ain’t talking,” he said.

“My gut tells me we have something in common with what’s happening in Mexico. There, the cartels gain or lose power with the numbers on the streets. If someone is getting too large, the killing begins until they balance power.” Lou finished the call and shook his head when she looked at him. Whoever or whatever it was didn’t merit an interruption. “The death squads there are becoming a problem no one wants to deal with.”

“You think our friends down the street are going to let it go that far?” Jasper asked.

“If only they worked for us instead of trying to bury us all the time. I’m not sure they can do anything about it, even if they tried their best. The kind of people we’re talking about aren’t afraid of anything.”

“A man with fear is a man with weaknesses, Fats used to say all the time,” Maude said.

“It’s true. Once Da was killed, my biggest fear was the safety of my family. ‘Can I keep them alive’ is a question that can consume you. Worrying about Emma and my children would paralyze me if I allowed it to.”

“What do you need from me?” Jasper asked.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, so I think I can be honest without you getting pissed.” She smiled and Jasper reciprocated.

“Compared to some in the city, what we got here ain’t much,” Maude said. “It’s a cluster of old houses in a dying neighborhood, but this is our home. When Fats died it would’ve been easy for someone to take it away, along with the business. Your father didn’t let that happen, so be as honest as you want. Jasper and me owe you that.”

“Drugs aren’t our business—never have been—and I’m raising Hayden to follow that philosophy. That is, though, the bulk of yours, and I know the power it takes to keep your share of the business. Power doesn’t come simply from the force of your fists, but from knowing down to the bone who to trust.”

Jasper nodded as she spoke, as did Maude. “You don’t want to be my partner, but I trust you. That’s not news or insulting, Cain, so what’s your point?”

“That you do indeed need a partner.”

“You offering?” Maude asked.

“I’m offering a suggestion that isn’t me,” she said, and both of them laughed. “Vinny’s come a ways, hasn’t he?”

“I like Vinny,” Jasper said, and glanced at Maude before he went on. “You know that too, right?”

“I do.”

“Vinny has come up good because he’s bright, but I ain’t ever going to be his partner. You know a lot of stuff, so you have to realize Vincent won’t go for that, and I’m not going to start taking orders from nobody.” His voice was low and steady, but she could hear the anger right at the surface. “I got enough to quit now, if that’s what it takes to keep my pride.”

“You won’t consider it even if I make guarantees?”

He stared her down but she didn’t look away. “You can speak for Vincent?”

“Not yet, but give me a few days.” She stretched her hand across the table and was relieved he didn’t hesitate to take it.

“Remember, Cain, who your friends are,” Maude said.

“I will, and you do the same. I’m always a call away.” She kissed Maude’s cheek and hugged her again after she stood.

“Both y’all get out of here and let me stir in peace. Next time, bring Emma. It’s about time I meet this girl of yours.”

Jasper walked them to the car and opened her door for her. “Where to, boss?”

“To see a pregnant woman about lunch.”

“You sure Señora Ortega okay with this?” Pablo Castillo asked. After Rodolfo’s death and Carlos claiming his birthright, Gracelia had put Pablo in charge of the shipment and business end of things. He was the one person in the hierarchy of the operation that Jerome met with daily.

Jerome glanced up from his paperwork and stared at Pablo as he tried to calm his temper. He’d always been quick to anger, but the more time he spent with Gracelia and her cohorts, the more microscopic his fuse had gotten. If he’d had a gun in his hand he would’ve pulled the trigger with no problem. Gracelia had warned him that his mood swings were a result of the uptick in his coke use, but he knew it was from dealing with and being surrounded by idiots.

“Are you going to run to Gracelia like a scared little shit every time we talk?” He pressed his fingers together and tried his best to control his breathing.

“Ah…no?” Pablo said.

“Let’s call her.” He picked up the phone on the desk and started dialing. “You can ask her permission again to listen to me, and then I’m going to tell her I’ll need a cleaning crew to come in here and wipe your brains off my walls.” He hesitated on the last number so he could scream. “We’ve fucking been through this already.”

“Señor, please,” Pablo said as he motioned for him to put the receiver down. “My apologies, but in this job mistakes cost more than money. You understand me? You say we go to Mississippi, we go to Mississippi to talk to our workers there. I ask about Señora Ortega because she say we go through Louisiana for everything. She say Louisiana easier and no
peligro
.” He shrugged on the last word, a sign he didn’t know the correct one in English.

“Danger is everywhere, Pablo, so we’ll try to minimize our exposure by going through the path of least resistance.”

“What?” Pablo asked.

“No
peligro
,” he said, his Spanish improving. It was getting tiresome to have everyone around him talk about him and not understand. “I want you to leave in the morning and start on the list in here.” He handed over a cell phone. “Once you get three meetings, call me and I’ll fly over.”

“What do you want me to say if I never meet them before?”

“Start with the fact we’re going to cut their costs by twenty-five percent. If they want the deal, this will be their only chance. Think you can handle that?”

Pablo wasn’t a tall man, and unlike most of the guys Gracelia had working for her with their thick, straight black hair, his was short and curly. It made him appear younger and gentler than the others, but Jerome knew he’d kill on a whim. His loyalty to Gracelia was rooted in fear. Jerome wanted to start to chip away at that while building his own future. Perhaps with time he’d have to use fear to keep people like this in line, but right now he needed Pablo to think of him as someone apart from Gracelia.

“They might want to talk to Señora Ortega, no me.”

“Either you’re the man or you’re an asshole who needs to be told when to take a shit, Pablo. Before you leave, let me know which one you want to be. If you can’t handle it, I’ll be happy to move you to help the women pack the bags.” He sat again and started to go through his paperwork as a sign of dismissal. “Whoever I replace you with will get the bonus for every new buyer we get.”

“Señora Ortega say that?” Pablo asked timidly.

“You see Gracelia Ortega here? Have you seen her lately?” His patience had snapped. “You’re dealing with me, and I’m fucking tired of repeating myself while you sound like a cocksucker in need of a fix.” He looked up and added, “Get out,” with as much menace as he could put into the two words.

“I make calls for you, no problem,” Pablo said as he held up the phone he’d given him.

“Do I need to tell you to get the fuck out in Spanish so you’ll understand me?”

Pablo shook his head so vigorously he thought the guy would pull a muscle in his neck. “You have my word, señor, I no problem. You see, I do good work for you.”

“You mention Gracelia to me again and it’ll be the last thing out of your mouth. You understand that too?”

“You the boss, no problem.” Pablo grabbed the phone and walked out backward as fast as he could manage.

“That’s a crap shoot,” Jerome said when he was alone again.

He had to start planning now if he was going to not only survive this, but end up in a position to be successful at something. Dealing drugs wasn’t what he’d had in mind as a career choice, but it was time to take advantage of his position.

“Pablo’s leaving?” asked Eduardo Fernandez, Gracelia’s main guard and growing confidant. He’d entered the study he was using as an office without knocking. “I thought Gracelia wanted him here dealing with the buyers who’ve gone to other suppliers.”

“I want to look at other opportunities.” He glared at Eduardo for wasting his time. No way was he flipping this guy, so spending time with him was useless. “Where’s Gracelia?”

“Señora is upstairs resting,” Eduardo said with a tone that dripped so much contempt he suddenly desired a shower.

“Remember two things, then, Eduardo,” he said as Eduardo stood and walked to the door. “Knock before you ever come in here, and don’t tell me what my job is.”

“I talk to Señora Ortega if you don’t like my company.” Eduardo laughed as he walked out.

Jerome would smooth Gracelia’s paranoia later, but for now he wanted to get a few personnel matters out of the way. He stared at the phone number he’d written on a tattered piece of paper, irritated that his hand shook. When was the last time he was truly comfortable and not afraid his life would end because the lunatics in his life felt like putting a bullet through his brain?

Every one of them gave off a vibe that made him feel like the unwelcome outsider. He wasn’t wanted, but that wasn’t a new development. Even Gracelia treated him with caution, her secrets hidden in that psychotic head of hers. His main focus was to cull through the ranks and choose a group he could control. Pablo was his first recruit and Eduardo had proved his loyalty—only not to him.

He moved to the bookshelves, removed the thick leather-bound book of poetry, and grabbed for the phone he’d hidden behind it. The books in the room must’ve been left behind by the previous owner or been a decorator’s idea, because no one but him here had spent time reading anything like the volume in his hand.

He turned the cell on and dialed the number he’d kept hidden in the folds of his wallet.

“Before you hang up, I have something you want, and for the right price it’s yours,” he said when his call was answered.

It was a cautious first step, but still, it was a start.

*

Nicolette Blanc stared at her reflection, her eyes glued to the thin scar that ran from under her right ear to her chin. It was still visible, but not as bad as when it had first healed. Back then it was red, thick, and angry in appearance—an ugliness she’d never really learned to accept. After countless surgeries, this was her permanent souvenir that reminded her of a moment of childish irritation and stupidity.

Back then it’d been so easy to blame Cain Casey, despite the truth that Cain had actually saved her from further damage. It still stung that Cain had rebuffed her, even though she’d tried her utmost to get her into her bed. The anger over that rejection had distracted her enough for the pervert to easily catch her and drag her into an alley at knifepoint. Afterward she’d seen the relief in her father’s eyes, but also his disappointment that she’d allowed this to happen. Cain had expressed nothing but deep pity, which had killed her dream of Cain’s touch and a future together.

That was the last time she’d truly felt free, or at least had lived with the confidence that nothing could harm her. After all, she was Michel Blanc’s daughter. Her father’s name had always scared off anyone dumb enough to want to harm her because the consequences of doing so were unthinkable. During those college days she’d also stopped believing in love, or the kind of love that allowed her to show another person her true self without fear of rejection or humiliation.

Cain Casey hadn’t wanted her, which had been acceptable for a while since Cain had gone through women like a swarm through fertile fields of ripe wheat. Obviously Cain wasn’t capable of a relationship with anyone. That realization had made Nicolette immensely happy. She wanted Cain to drift unattached through life like she did. Eventually she would be able to convince Cain they were too much alike to not be together. When she received occasional reports that another woman had been replaced, she smiled, but that small joy had been crushed when the guy she’d hired to keep tabs on Cain sent her the name Emma Verde, along with her picture.

Her self-doubt had flared and the seed of hate for Cain had germinated. Why this simpleton from a farm in the middle of nowhere and not her? The question rattled around in her head, and she was ashamed it still did.

“Are you still pissed?” Luce asked, leaning against the door frame.

She hadn’t said much since Luce and Maximo returned and reported what had happened. Luce loved her; that’s why she’d tried to put Cain in her place. Their eyes met in the mirror, and she admired Luce’s beauty again. She enjoyed this woman’s touch, her friendship, but she’d never return her feelings. She defined love now as her relationship with her parents, no one else.

“I did warn you, did I not?” She cinched the tie of her robe tight before she turned and squeezed by Luce without much physical contact. “You could’ve possibly gotten away with that at home, but here, Cain rules just like her father did before his death. Also, we need her. Did your ego consider that before you decided to act like a spoiled child?”

“If only you’d defend me so vehemently,” Luce said as she dropped into the wingback closest to the window. “I did what was necessary, and I’m only sorry you can’t see and understand that. The Blancs bow to no one.”

“Did my father adopt you and not tell me?” Nicolette opened the small box on the desk and took out a cigarette.

“You know damn well, Nic, that it’s my job to make sure people respect the name, whether or not it’s mine.”

“Your
job
today was to close the deal my father and I wanted closed. We didn’t need renegotiations, rudeness, and you beating your chest like a caveman. You failed on all three counts, and in record time, from what Maximo said.”

Luce clenched both hands and opened her mouth to say something, then must’ve thought better of it. Her jaw clicked shut and she closed her eyes for as long as it took to count to ten. Luce’s behavior was as predictable as the heat New Orleans experienced in summer; she hadn’t figured out yet how easily manipulated she was. Nicolette didn’t do it often, but when necessary it was easy to push Luce as much and as hard as she needed to get what she wanted. No way would Luce ever issue an ultimatum, even if she figured it out, since it would end both their personal and professional relationship. She enjoyed Luce’s company, but it wasn’t at all a necessity.

“If you want I’ll meet with the bitch again and apologize,” Luce said, sounding properly spanked.

“Cain Casey is done with you, but maybe she has some memory of our friendship. You take Maximo with you and enjoy one of the good restaurants in the city.”

“What about you?” Luce asked as she stood and reached to open her robe again.

“I’ll be doing your job.” She grabbed Luce by the wrists and stepped back. “Start at the bar. I need to talk to my father.”

Luce hesitated like she was contemplating rebellion, but she turned and slammed her way out. It wouldn’t be much longer before Nicolette offered Luce the privilege of keeping her job but expelled her from her bed. She didn’t deal well with lovesick puppies who constantly begged for her attention and a pat on the head.

“Bonjour, Papa,” she said when her father answered. “I’ll keep it short since I have to go out soon. Did Maximo call you?”

“He told me the result, so I figured you’re pleased. Your plan is working so far.”

His voice echoed slightly off the marble in the bathroom, but she needed to finish getting ready. “Time hasn’t tamed the tiger for sure, but that side of Cain is what I find most attractive. In a few days we should have everything we want.”

“The contract isn’t as important as your happiness, chérie. Forget the wine if you want and concentrate on getting back what’s yours. You deserve this.”

“Thanks, Papa. Your understanding and help mean everything to me.”

“Keep in touch, and stay safe.”

She hummed as she applied her foundation carefully, since too much caked around the scar made it stand out more. The dress she’d bought for this occasion would sear her beauty into Cain’s brain, and that was what she wanted most. If she could focus Cain’s attention on nothing but her from the start this time around, it wouldn’t take long to remove Emma Verde from the picture.

“I’m not accepting the word ‘no’ this time, Cain, so I hope you’re brighter than you were in your twenties. If you insist on refusing me, it’ll be unfortunate, but getting rid of you might be the only way for me to move on.”