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“Okay,” she said, clearly still doubtful. “All I have to do is call this Broussard guy first thing in the morning and tell him that I need him to investigate a case for me. That someone tried to kill me, and I think it’s related to the murder of my sister JoAnn back during Katrina.”
“Exactly.” He smiled the way she liked best. “That’s my girl.”
She smiled back, happy to be useful to him. “And this will lure him out of hiding so that you can grab him?”
“It will.” It had to. If Broussard suspected, it would be even harder to lure him out.
“And this Broussard is guilty of trafficking kids?”
“He is. But he’s never harmed a woman, so you’re in no danger. You’ll wear a wire and we’ll be waiting outside.” That much was true. He’d already made calls to the most reliable names on his list, both as personal security for himself and to take care of Eckert. One of his men would be waiting outside so that they could follow Jackass’s men when they tailed Broussard, because his partner could not be trusted. “As soon as you come out of his office, we’ll whisk you away.”
Her brow furrowed again. “What if Broussard asks me why I chose him? He might be suspicious.”
“Tell him that you were visited by a cop named Rocky who was investigating your sister’s murder. You tried to call Rocky, but he’s dead.”
Her eyes widened. “He’s dead? How?”
“Shot himself. Very sad. He was a good cop. Tell Broussard that Rocky told you that if anything bad happened to you, to go to Broussard because they were partners in the NOPD.”
Her eyes widened further. “Broussard was a cop?”
“He was.”
Her jaw tightened, rage filling her normally placid expression. “Then he deserves to be thrown in jail. Maybe one of the criminals he arrested will give him justice.”
He smiled, this time sincerely. “I like the way you think, Ash. So you’ll do it?”
“I will.”
“You can’t use your real name. You’re Alicia Rollins and your sister was JoAnn.” Not Nadia Hall, because he’d never say that name again. Plus, there really had been a JoAnn Rollins who’d died during Katrina, so if Burke checked, his suspicions would be satisfied. Kind of fitting since Rocky had done the same thing—giving his boss the name of a Katrina victim instead of Xavier Morrow when he’d been pressed for the eyewitness’s identity. “Got it?”
“I do.”
“I’ll send you a fake address that you can give him when he asks where you live.”
Lamont had received both the names to be used and the address from Jackass an hour before. It was a house in a small South Carolina town, not too far from where Gabe Hebert’s lady PI used to live. If Margaret Sutton got curious and went to investigate, she’d receive a little present, courtesy of one of Jackass’s trusted operatives.
Lamont hoped it worked. And if it didn’t, none of it could be tied to him. No harm, no foul.
“And,” he added, “you can’t give Broussard any details over the phone except for—”
“Except that someone tried to kill me and it’s due to the murder of my sister during Katrina. I got it. I promise.” Her lips curved seductively. “And now that we’ve taken care of business...”
He pushed away the irritation at being interrupted and glanced at his watch. “I can stay for a little while.”
She tilted her head, trying—and failing—to look nonchalant. “And your wife?”
“I’m going to divorce her.” More or less. “But I have to wait until—”
She sighed. “After the election. I know, I know.”
He reached for her hand. “She’s watching me too closely. I can’t risk her having any ammunition against me. Against us. She’s not a nice person.”
Ashley laughed bitterly. “I figured that out for myself.”
“Let’s not think about her right now. We have this lovely room and complete privacy.”
She nodded firmly. “You’re right. Let’s have some fun.”
