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“Thank you, Molly.” Clearly relieved, Burke gestured to one of the empty chairs at the table. “Join us. As I’m sure you’ve figured out, this case requires extreme discretion.”
Molly nodded. “I understand. Mr. Hebert, if you decide I’m not the best fit, there will be no hard feelings. But should you choose to work with me, I’ll do my very best.”
Gabe’s shoulders slumped, his exhaustion clear to see. “I appreciate that.” He swallowed hard. “I need to find out who killed my father.”
Molly glanced at Burke. “Are the police involved?”
Gabe’s laugh was bitter. “Most likely, yes.”
Burke sighed. “What he means is, someone in law enforcement might be complicit. Or responsible.”
Molly sat back, wishing she was surprised. “All right, then. Let me have it.”
The Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana
MONDAY, JULY 25, 9:25 A.M.
Molly Sutton was... Gabe wasn’t entirely certain how he’d describe her. Serene. Unruffled. Unwrinkled and crisp despite the already-steamy air in the room. Despite wearing a jacket in late July, for heaven’s sake. She’d been the same way the night before and every other time she’d walked into the Choux.
And yes, he’d noticed. Every single time. There was something about the woman that always drew his gaze. Okay, several things. She was exactly his type, golden blond with a face like Grace Kelly and a body like Marilyn Monroe. But it was more than her looks. There was something about her that settled him.
She was the only diner to whom he’d personally delivered a birthday cake last night. He’d foisted all of the other cakes onto Patty, his cousin and co-owner of the Choux. But Molly’s cake he’d placed on the table with as much of a flourish as he’d been able to muster.
Patty had teased him about it when he’d returned to the kitchen, but she didn’t mean any harm. She didn’t know what he’d done. Didn’t know why he was torn up inside. Because he’d kept it from her.
He hadn’t intended on keeping it from her forever. Just until he’d had his suspicions confirmed. Otherwise, she might think him batshit paranoid and call for a family intervention.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t been paranoid. He’d been right.
Now he wasn’t telling Patty because he didn’t want to put her in danger, because danger was coming their way. It already had, leaving at least one body in its wake.
And now he was supposed to drag Molly Sutton into this mess with him? Just telling her the truth would put her in a killer’s crosshairs. His parents had raised him better than that.
“Miss Sutton,” he began, trying for a kind smile. “I’m not sure you’re the right person for this job.”
She smiled back, but not kindly. Not meanly, either. Just... warily. “I may not be, but then again, I might.” Her accent was Southern, but not New Orleans. Georgia, maybe. Or maybe one of the Carolinas. “Maybe share the details and we can go from there.”
Gabe cast a sideways look at Burke, who was frowning. “What’s your concern, Gabe?” Burke asked. “Feel free to be candid, but first let me tell you Molly’s credentials. She served with me, one of the finest Marines under my command. I’d trust her with my life. Importantly, I trust her with yours.”
Gabe swallowed, hating that tears burned his throat. Dammit to hell. “What about hers?” he asked, his voice gone raspy. “What if I don’t want her involved? This will be dangerous.”
Burke opened his mouth, but Molly shook her head. “No, Burke, he’s got a right to whatever it is that he’s feeling.” She lifted her chin a fraction, meeting Gabe’s gaze directly. “I’ve got black belts in three different martial arts, Mr. Hebert. I’m no sharpshooter, but I can hold my own.” A muscle twitched in her cheek, making him realize how tight her jaw had become. “I’ve killed to protect, so if you’re concerned that I’m not physically or mentally up for the task, or that you’re in any personal danger, I can assure you that I am quite capable of protecting both of us.”
Gabe shook his head, feeling sorrow for whatever she’d seen, whatever she’d done, but it didn’t matter. Taking on a dirty cop wasn’t the same as taking a life on the battlefield. At least he didn’t think so. Fucking hell if he knew anything anymore. I’m only a goddamn chef. “Killing in war is different.”
“I didn’t kill in war,” she said simply, but there was an entire story there that he found that he really wanted to hear. “Well,” she added with a grimace, “I did that, too. What I mean to say is that I can take care of myself and anyone else who’s placed in my care.”
“Tell her about your dad, Gabe,” Burke said quietly. There was compassion in his voice and his eyes. “Like I said, if you’re not satisfied by the time we’re done, I’ll find someone else. I’ll even handle it myself if that’s what you still want. But give Molly a chance. Please. Your father was important to me. I want him to have the very best. And that’s Molly.”
Gabe sighed, too tired to argue anymore. “Okay. The truth is, I’m not really sure what the case is. All I know is that my father died six weeks ago. It appeared to be a suicide.”
“But it wasn’t,” Molly said.
“No. At least I don’t think so.” He considered his words carefully. “I don’t want to believe so, anyway. And if it wasn’t, I want whoever killed my father to pay.”
“Then that’s what I want, too.” She tilted her head, the light from the lead-glass window picking up the gold highlights in her blond hair. “Your father was Burke’s partner, which means he was a cop?”
“Yes. His name was Robert Hebert, but everyone called him Rocky. He retired six months ago after thirty-seven years with the NOPD.” His voice broke. His father had been so much more than a cop. He’d been the best father any man could ask for. “He was only fifty-seven.”
