The Whispering Room (19 page)

E
vangeline called Mitchell as soon as she got back to her car. While she waited for him to answer, she lifted her gaze to the building in front of her and idly counted the floors. For a moment, she thought she spotted Nash in the window of his office. Then she lost him in the glare of sunlight off the glass, and she decided it probably hadn't been him anyway.

“Hebert,” Mitchell said on the other end.

Evangeline leaned forward and started her car. “Where are you right now?”

“I'm at the station,” he said. “What's up?”

“I thought we might take a drive out to the lake.”

“I'm all for that,” he said. “But something tells me we're not going out there for lunch.”

“We're going to see Sonny Betts again,” Evangeline said.

“Wait a minute. I think we have a bad connec
tion. Because I could have sworn I just heard you say something about going to see Sonny Betts. And I know you didn't actually say that because you're not stuck on stupid.”

“What's stupid about wanting to ask him a few more questions regarding the murder of his former attorney?”

“What isn't stupid about it? One, you're not even on the case, and two, you heard what Lapierre said about Betts. We don't make another move on a guy like that unless we have got some heavy-duty artillery to use against him. Right now, we've got squat.”

“I'm not suggesting we go in with guns blazing,” Evangeline said. “I'm talking about a friendly little chat. I'm headed out there right now. I was kind of hoping you'd meet me.”

“And then Lapierre can kick both our asses, is that it?”

“What do you care about Lapierre? You're moving to Houston.”

“That's not a done deal, and it's beside the point anyway.”

“What if I told you that Betts had something to do with Johnny's death?”

He gave a loud, exasperated sigh. “Based on what, Evie?”

“Based on what Special Agent Declan Nash of the FBI just told me in his office. Johnny's death
wasn't random, Mitchell. There's a good chance he was set up.”

“By who?”

“Nathan Mallet.”

“Why would Nathan set up Johnny?”

“Because I think Johnny found out Nathan was dirty. He worked for Betts.”

“And just what do you hope to prove by going out there and rattling Betts's cage again?”

“This time, it's not Betts's cage I'm trying to rattle,” she said. “It's Declan Nash's.”

 

Evangeline was five minutes from her rendezvous point with Mitchell when she realized she was being followed. Earlier she'd spotted a red Mustang behind her when she left the federal building, and she'd thought at first it might be Nathan's stolen car.

But the driver made a right at the first traffic light, and Evangeline hadn't caught sight of the car again.

The vehicle behind her now was a black Lincoln with heavily tinted windows.

Keeping an eye in the rearview mirror, Evangeline made a quick left on a red light, hoping to lose the tail, but the Lincoln shot up behind her, tapping her bumper just as a car approaching from the other direction swerved in front of her.

Evangeline had no choice but to hit the brakes as the two cars wedged her between them. Heavily
armed men spilled out of the vehicles and surrounded her car with enough artillery to start a small war. Guns were suddenly pointed at her from every direction.

“Get out of the car now!”

A dozen different actions raced through Evangeline's head, none of them viable at the moment. She had no choice but to do as she was told.

Pushing open the door, she slowly climbed out.

“Throw your weapon on the ground. Do it now!”

Rough hands seized her then and her arms were pulled behind her back and cuffed. Dragging her over to one of the cars, they shoved her into the backseat and slammed the door.

By the time Evangeline could struggle to a sitting position, the car was already moving. The whole confrontation had taken less than thirty seconds. So fast any onlookers probably wouldn't have even realized what was going on until it was too late.

“Who are you people?” Her heart thudded against her chest and she tried to ignore the pain that streaked across her shoulders.

“You have no idea what you've been meddling in,” the man on the passenger side said.

“What are you talking about? Who are you?” she asked again.

But he merely gave her a withering look and turned back to face the front.

She glanced out the window at the passing scenery.
She thought at first they were going to Sonny Betts's place, but instead they cut back and traveled a maze of side streets and alleys until they reached a warehouse. The overhead door was activated by a remote and the big car slid inside. A moment later, the door rumbled closed behind them.

Evangeline glanced around, trying to get some sense of her surroundings, but they were in total darkness. She was taken out of the car and led to the back of the building, where her cuffs were removed and a gruff voice instructed her to sit. When she failed to comply, she was pushed down on a wooden, straight-back chair, and her wrists were once again fastened behind her.

“What do you want?” she asked.

No response.

“Who are you?”

Only silence.

“If you people think you can snatch a New Orleans homicide detective without consequences, I suggest you think again.”

Someone laughed this time.

“You should be worrying about the consequences of your own actions, Detective Theroux. You just don't know when to quit, do you?”

She tried to get up, but a hand on her shoulder pressed her back down.

“You may as well get comfortable,” a second voice said behind her. “You've got a wait ahead of you.”

“What am I waiting for?”

“If I told you that, it'd take all the fun out of it, now wouldn't it?”

The room fell silent. No one spoke again until a side door opened and a third man stepped into the warehouse. Evangeline could hear the low murmur of voices in the dark, but she couldn't make out what any of them were saying.

The door opened again and for a moment, Evangeline thought they had left her. Then an overhead light came on and she squinted, momentarily blinded by the brilliance.

When her vision cleared, she saw Declan Nash standing in front her.

“I figured it would come to this,” he said. “But I didn't think it would be this soon.”

“Come to what?” she asked angrily. “Kidnapping?”

“A lot of people went to a great deal of trouble to keep this day from happening,” he said. “You have no idea.”

“Why don't you stop speaking in riddles and tell me what the hell is going on.” Evangeline tugged at the handcuffs. “And while you're at it, how about taking these things off me?”

He reached behind him and plucked a key off a small wooden desk. Then he walked around the chair and unfastened the cuffs.

Evangeline jumped up and whirled to face him
as she massaged her wrists. “Was that really necessary?”

“With you, yes.” His glance traveled over her and she thought for a moment he looked anxious. “You're not hurt, are you?”

She was still rubbing her wrists. “I'll live.”

He moved around to the front of the table.

“What's going on?” she demanded. “Why did you bring me here?”

“This seemed as good a place as any to give you what you want.”

“And that is?”

“The truth,” he said, “About Johnny.”

Her heart skipped a beat as she walked toward the desk. “And why should I believe you this time?”

“You don't have to believe me.” He lifted the lid from a cardboard crate on the table and removed a thick file folder, which he plopped down in front of her. “You can reach your own conclusions.”

Her gaze dropped to the folder. “What is this?”

“Your husband's file. If you're not convinced by the time you've reached the end, there's more where that came from.”

When she made no move to open the folder, he said, “Go on. Take a look.” He grabbed a wooden chair and shoved it toward her. “Here,” he said. “You better sit. This could take a while.”

Reluctantly Evangeline pulled up the chair and sat down. She placed her hand on the folder, but for
some reason, she couldn't bring herself to open it. She didn't understand fully what was going on here, but she instinctively knew she wasn't going to like what she found inside that file.

She glanced up. Nash had moved over by the door and was on his cell phone.

Again her gaze dropped to the folder.
Open it. Just get it over with.

She flipped it open and the first thing she saw was a picture of Johnny.

Her heart almost stopped.

There he was. Just the way she remembered him.

Her Johnny. The love of her life.

She drew a shaky breath as she made herself study the photo. The shot had been taken through a window using a telephone lens. Johnny was standing in an unfamiliar room conversing with another man that Evangeline recognized as Sonny Betts.

She looked up, saw that Nash was watching her, and she quickly glanced back down.

Johnny…and Sonny Betts?

No. No.

No.

Another photo had been shot poolside with Johnny, Betts and several other people Evangeline didn't recognize. Drinks in hand, they were all laughing and smiling and totally oblivious to the camera.

By this time, Evangeline's hands were shaking so
badly she could barely pick up the photographs. There were dozens. Shots of Johnny with Betts, shots of Johnny with men she didn't know, shots of Johnny in his car emerging from the parking garage where he'd been killed.

There were surveillance notes, too, all carefully stamped with the date and time. Some of the notes were nearly two years old.

Evangeline scrutinized every photo, read every note, scoured every report. And when she was finished, she closed the folder and sat for a moment, not trusting herself to speak.

“Do you want to see more?” Nash asked quietly. He left his spot by the door and came over to the table.

She shook her head. “I've seen enough for one day.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Are you really?” She didn't know why her anger was still directed at Nash.

“Like I said, no one wanted it to come to this.”

Johnny's betrayal was as heavy as an iron cloak on her shoulders. She felt small and beat down. “Who's no one? Who else knows about this?”

“Apart from my team, a few people at NOPD.”

She closed her eyes. “Why wasn't I told?”

“It's a sensitive issue,” he said. “There's still an ongoing investigation. I'm only telling you now
because your questions were creating an uncomfortable situation.”

“Uncomfortable,” she repeated numbly.

“I really am sorry you had to find out—”

“How long?”

“How long—”

“How long was he working for Betts?”

“At least two years. He was already under surveillance when I took over the operation. He was probably approached when Betts returned from Houston and started building his network. Johnny and Nathan Mallet were both on the payroll.”

“That's what I don't understand. If Johnny was on the take, where did the money go? We didn't lead a lavish lifestyle. Far from it. We barely made ends meet. The only reason I've got some breathing room now is because of his life-insurance policy.”

“He probably funneled everything into an offshore bank account. He was a smart guy. He knew the only way to avoid suspicion was to keep a low profile.”

And just what was he going to do with all that money? Evangeline wondered. Had she and the baby figured into his future plans at all?

“He wasn't smart enough to keep himself alive, was he?” she said harshly. “What happened? Did he fall out of favor with Betts?”

“We think a rival syndicate took him out. A power play, most likely.”

“What about the woman he went to see?”

“She worked for Betts. She handled the money. I doubt there was a personal relationship between them. We never saw any evidence of it.”

“Well, that's something I guess.” Evangeline pushed aside the folder and stood. “I'd like to leave now if you don't mind.”

“I'll drive you home.”

“Don't take this personally,” she said. “But right now, you're the last person I want to be with.”