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Molly looked over her shoulder. Officer McCauley was right behind them in an NOPD squad car. “I guess we’re going to have to wait and see.”
Hotel Monteleone, New Orleans, Louisiana
FRIDAY, JULY 29, 7:15 P.M.
“Lamont!”
Lamont turned to find Lyle Nelson approaching him, his wife on his arm. “Lyle. Lorraine. Thank you for coming out tonight.”
“Our pleasure,” Lorraine said with the kind of elegance he’d hoped Joelle would achieve but never had. “Where’s your lovely wife tonight?”
“She said she was feeling poorly and said to offer her regrets.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Lyle said with a momentary frown for Joelle, but then he was back to business. “I’ve got a few friends I’d like you to meet tonight. They’re anxious to hear all about your campaign and your platform. Come along.”
Lamont followed, letting it all sink in. This is it. This was the moment he was introduced as a potential candidate. Here, in the Monteleone, a city landmark. Where a jazz quartet played jauntily. Here, with the real money of Louisiana.
This is the first step toward what I’ve been working toward for years.Every case he’d taken, every scandal he’d made disappear. Every enemy he’d dispatched.
Even his marriage to wife number one had been carefully orchestrated. Especially wife number one. Lucille had been old money, her family practically New Orleans royalty. The day he’d married her had been the best day of his life.
Not because of Lucille, of course. She’d been older and far too stodgy for his personal tastes. But the connections the union had provided to him had set him on the path. He’d been employed at his father-in-law’s prestigious firm. He’d done everything the old bastard had required, just short of wiping the old man’s ass. And I would have done that, too, if it’d meant progressing my career. Luckily, it hadn’t come to that, although it had been close.
Securing Lucille and her father’s wealth and influence had been the first giant step. Not one ounce of it luck. He’d worked hard to catch Lucille’s eye. He’d been a poor lawyer with a huge law school loan hanging over his head. She’d been his ticket to ride. He’d put up with a lot during those years.
And it was finally paying off.
Every step thereafter had been calculated toward achieving this goal. To hold the power of the US Senate in his hands. And later? Maybe even the White House.
Nelson’s friends were easily charmed, and he walked away having secured their support.
“Nicely done,” Nelson murmured. “Let’s mingle some more before they start serving dinner.”
“Lead on,” Lamont said with a smile so big that it stretched his face.
Joelle would be dead by now, he had an alibi, and no one could connect him to any of the circus going on within the NOPD. Mule was being investigated, his legacy doomed.
Lamont, on the other hand, would come out of this—well, not smelling like a rose. There would be the scandal of his affair and Joelle’s suicide following her murder-for-hire of Ashley, but he’d survive all that. He already had his black suit picked out. He’d be in mourning for a while, but he’d persist, and people all around would laud him for his commitment to the community in the face of tragedy.
Everything was gonna be all right.
“What’s he doing here?” Lorraine said sharply.
Lamont turned around and—
No. Oh no, no no no.His gut went into free fall, his heart beating so loud that it was all he could hear.
It was André Holmes, that damn cop. And beside him... Jean-Pierre Cardozo.
Both wore suits. Both looked grim.
And both were coming his way.
Two officers followed them, checking out the room.
Oh my God.
They stopped in front of them, André giving a polite nod to Lorraine.
