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“Thank you, Carlos,” she said sincerely. “To Manny, too.”
“No problem, Mrs. M,” Manny called. “I’m off work at the store for a few days and got nothin’ better to do.”
“Okay, this is what I want you to do. I want you to tell him that we’re going to meet him at the Waffle House on Wallisville Road. My car will be outside. You still got the keys, Xavier?”
He patted his pocket. Keys were still there, on the key ring he’d made using the angel Rocky had left him. Maybe the angel was watching over them, he thought, then shook his head at himself. “Yes, ma’am. I have the keys to your car.”
“Tell the lawyer to meet me inside. I want to talk to him. Alone. While I’m doing so, I want you to park Manny’s car and get into mine. When I text you, swing around the side where the bathrooms are. I’ll get out of there, meet you, and then we’re going to find Gabriel Hebert. The lawyer can follow us back to New Orleans, if he wants to.”
“I told you that I didn’t like the guy,” Manny said. “She doesn’t, either.”
“No, you said you didn’t like the situation,” Carlos corrected. “Do you think this guy isn’t on the level, Mrs. M?”
“I don’t know. He was nice to come all this way, but I had my own conversation with Rocky. He told me to trust no one but Gabriel. And he didn’t tell the lawyer where to find you, Xavier. Mr. Lott sent the inheritance information to the UPS box because that was the address that Rocky gave him. If Rocky went to that much trouble to protect your identity and location, I’m going to do the same. If Lott truly is a nice man—which I have no reason to believe he’s not—”
“Yet,” Manny inserted.
“Yet,” she agreed. “If he’s a nice man, he won’t mind a change in plans.”
“Let’s take my minivan,” her friend said in the background. “What if he’s bad news? What if he gets your license plate?”
“I’m not dragging you into this, Willa Mae.”
“No, you’re not dragging me anywhere. I’m coming with you. My minivan will make the trip better than your car. I just got a tune-up.”
Xavier wanted to laugh, but he held it in, only because he knew he’d sound like a maniac. “Mom, are you sure about this?”
“I am. I don’t have Gabriel’s phone number, but I know where he works.”
“At a restaurant,” Xavier said. “I turned off my phone, so I can’t search for which one.”
“Le Petit Choux,” she said. “I’ll call as soon as I hang up. If I can talk to him now, I will. Call the lawyer. Tell him the Waffle House. I’ll see you there.”
“My van is a Honda Odyssey,” Willa Mae called. “Gray. I’ll tell your mama the license plate and she can text to this number. Oh, this is exciting. I’ve got a gun, too, and a carry license. I got it when I was with the prosecutor’s office and some punk threatened to kill me. I might even have bullets.”
“Oh my Lord,” his mother said, not sounding happy about it. “I suppose we’ll see you soon. I love you, son.”
“Love you, too, Mom.” Xavier ended the call, then gave in to the urge to laugh.
And he did sound like a maniac.
Carlos started to laugh. Then Manny joined in. They all sounded like maniacs, which was comforting in a weird way.
When Xavier was able to stop laughing, he was panting. Just in time for Manny’s burner to ring. “It’s Lott,” Xavier said. “I’ll tell him where to meet us.”
Mid-City, New Orleans, Louisiana
TUESDAY, JULY 26, 9:30 A.M.
“We’re fine,” Chelsea assured her when Molly called to check in.
Molly stood in Gabe’s spare bedroom, staring out the floor-to-ceiling window, wondering if the man who’d come so close to killing Gabe’s dog would be back. She’d think not in the daylight, but there’d still been daylight last night when he’d made his move.
She wondered if the attempted dog killer had been the same person who’d trashed Rocky Hebert’s house after his death. It was possible. Maybe even probable.
She wondered if she’d made a huge mistake, taking this job and putting Chelsea and Harper in danger. That was possible as well.
But at least not this morning, or so it seemed.
