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“Dex saw Julia get into a car with two men and her kid. He followed them to a house in the Seventh Ward where it turns out Gerald Gibson lives. That van that almost killed Isabelle the other day was parked in the garage.”

“Wait a minute. Julia Bishop? Not Carlton?”

I finish my drink, pick up the bottle and pour another. “This was Julia. I’m not sure if she’s working with Carlton or on her own. I didn’t want to question Gibson yet. Figured I’d tail him for a while. But either way, one of them hired Gerald Gibson to finish the job his brother started.”

He’s quiet for a very long minute. “Where does Carlton fall in this?”

“That’s a great question. I just got off the phone with Santiago. He’s looking into the charity from which Danny was paid. Julia’s been managing it for years.”

“Does Isabelle have any idea?”

I shake my head. “And she won’t believe me if I tell her. I need proof. But even if I have it, the pregnancy is too new. She’s been so sick. I don’t want to risk upsetting her.”

“That wasn’t your concern tonight.”

“Low blow, brother.”

“But deserved.” He finishes his drink and pours another. “How can I help you?”

“I should keep Isabelle under lock and key, but that’s easier said than done. And I don’t like the cigarette butts on the property anyway. If someone managed to get inside—”

“I’ll do a perimeter check tomorrow. Make sure the wall hasn’t been compromised.”

“Thank you. Dex is watching the Bishop house tonight, but I want him here with Angelique and Isabelle. We need more men. And not from IVI.”

“Not an issue.” He takes out his phone and scrolls through his contacts. He puts the phone to his ear. “We need to meet,” he says, then after a pause: “I’ll be there in twenty.” He tucks the phone back into his pocket and stands, finishes his whiskey. “I’ll meet with my contact now. We’ll have men here by morning.”

“I’ll come with you,” I say, standing.

“Your wife and daughter need you more.”

I get up and go to him. Pat his arm. “Thank you for taking care of her tonight.”

He nods and we walk out, going our separate ways. I’m at the bottom of the stairs and he’s at the front door when I stop.

“Zeke?”

He looks back at me.

“You’re going to tell me about dad. You have to.”

He shakes his head.

“One way or another, I’m going to find out the truth.”

He walks out the front door and I climb the stairs, stopping to look in on my daughter. She smiles in her sleep when I kiss her forehead. I continue to my bedroom where I find my wife exactly where I left her for a change. Asleep in my bed, curled around my pillow. I smile, brush hair from her face. She smiles in her sleep but settles again. And I wonder when she did this thing to me.

When she made me care.

22

Isabelle

The next two weeks pass quietly although I notice more men are stationed around the house. When I ask Jericho about them, he casually distracts me, telling me it’s nothing, just additional security for the family. When he says family, he takes care that I know I’m a part of that equation. He’s different with me since that night in the chapel. More tender. Our lovemaking has shifted too. Morphed into something erotic and sensual, deeply satisfying on a level that is so much more than sexual. Jericho St. James knows how to manipulate a woman’s body and bend it to his will. I knew that from day one. But what’s happening between us now is so much more.

And I find myself feeling strangely happy.

Jericho has even opened a bank account for me—well, a joint account—where he deposits way too much money for the weekly lessons I’m giving Angelique. I’m aware that he set it up as a joint account so he can control the funds or at least know what I do with them. He’s even given me both an ATM card and a credit card which are both great, except that I never leave the house, so also useless. I guess it’s a gesture, though. And I’ve been able to send Paul a check for the missed lessons, which I feel good about.

He and Zeke are spending more time together huddled in their studies. I do notice the shift when they meet. See the looks exchanged between them.

I spend my days with Angelique mostly and I’ve started my lessons with Professor Larder. He’s a nice man, I guess, but he is a strict teacher. While I know I will learn a lot from him, I miss my little group. I miss Paul and Megs and the others. Jericho isn’t convinced Paul wasn’t involved in the incident the night of the concert though. He’s told me in no uncertain terms that if Paul is to be allowed back into the house, he will first need to submit to a thorough questioning. That’s his condition. And it’s my choice to make. As usual, Jericho is giving me impossible choices. But right now, it’s just easier to say I’ll deal with it another day.

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