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“They can’t know for sure. That was in the hotel.” It was weird, talking about sex after he’d had the meltdown of his life. But it felt warmly normal at the same time.
“Val told Burke. She apparently heard us through the wall.”
He grunted. “Gossips, all of them.”
“She’s just getting me back. I won the pool with her last boyfriend.”
He gave his head a shake, sending pain exploding behind his eyes. “You guys.”
“I know,” she said soothingly. “We’re reprobates. But you like us.”
“You especially.”
“I’m glad. You wanna sleep here or in a real bed? Your call, but I think your bones will thank you if you choose door number two.”
Gabe rolled to his knees with another grunt. “My bones already hate me. I’d better take the real bed.” He met her eyes. “You won’t go to Baton Rouge without me?”
“And leave my partner behind? No way. I’ll wait. Besides, Burke needs to talk to André before we do anything. This Ducote thing is gonna be nasty.”
“It’s gonna be covered up.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. We’ve got fifteen bodies. No, wait, sixteen. I forgot about Meth Guy.”
“George Haslet,” Gabe corrected.
She dipped her chin. “You’re right. He deserves to be named. Anyway, there’s been too many people killed—and many of the murders have been reported on by the media. People know. It’s not going to be easy to cover up. Besides, we’ll push until everyone who had their hand in this is named and punished. We owe your father that much.”
He sighed. “I’m not paying Burke enough for this shit. I’m going to have to take out a second mortgage on my house.”
“Don’t you worry about that. Burke said that he’d cover what you couldn’t.”
Gabe blinked. “Is Burke a millionaire or something?”
“I don’t know how much he’s worth and it’s not my business, but he’s not poor. Look, your father was important to him.” She hesitated for a brief moment. “Burke’s father was an awful man. My dad and yours... they were like surrogate fathers to Burke. That means more than you know. So let’s get some rest, take down that asshole Ducote, and figure out the money later.”
He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She scrambled to her feet and held out her hand. “Come on, big guy. There’s a soft bed waiting for you.”
He allowed himself to be led up the stairs and inside, sighing with relief when cool air hit his overheated face. And sighing with even more relief that the kitchen was deserted. He wasn’t sure if he could have faced the others. But then another thought made his relief short-lived.
“What happens if he runs? Ducote?”
She shrugged. “Then we chase him. We chase him and we chase him and we make his life a living hell until he’s in custody serving a life sentence. For now, we tell André and let him work whatever border control magic he can muster.”
“Ducote could slip out on a boat. Lots of places he could escape without involving border patrol.”
“True,” she said as they walked past the living room, where everyone seemed to be assiduously minding their own business. “But right now, he doesn’t know that we know who he is. He thinks he got away with what he did yesterday and all the other days. But Ducote is wrong, Gabe, because we do know who he is. We have the advantage and we’re going to use it.”
Bayou Gauche, Louisiana
FRIDAY, JULY 29, 9:10 A.M.
Xavier let out the breath he’d been holding as Gabe and Molly passed by. The chef had been so pale, his eyes red-rimmed. Xavier turned to the doorway, clueless as to how to help.
“He’ll be all right,” Burke said quietly. “Eventually.”
Carlos sighed. “I keep thinking of Rocky as the victim, like on all the cop shows. I keep forgetting that Rocky was Gabe’s father. This has to be killing him.” He winced. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.”
