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“In a car,” Xavier said. “It was a blue Camry. I didn’t get the license plate.”
André nodded. “That fits. A man arrived at the ER at Baptist Hospital in the wee hours of the night, victim of a gunshot wound to the chest. He died at ten a.m. this morning.” He lifted his brows. “Of a second gunshot wound. He was shot in his hospital bed.”
What?It was all Molly could do to keep her expression neutral. Inside she was so damn relieved that Xavier hadn’t killed the man. For his part, Xavier gaped, looking like he’d either laugh, cry, or throw up.
“Is it possible that two people broke into your house, Xavier?” André asked.
“It’s possible,” Carlos said, recovering from his shock more quickly than Xavier. “I only saw the one guy’s hands as Xavier was climbing out of the window. He was white and he had a gun.”
“He tried to grab you?” André asked.
Xavier swallowed again. “Yes. He did grab my shirt. Tried to yank me back in through the window. But I got away, climbed down the tree outside the window, and Carlos and I ran.”
“I need to ask,” André said gently. “Why didn’t you call 911 right away?”
Xavier gave him a sad look. “Because I didn’t think they’d believe me. I’m a good student. Salutatorian of my high school class. Just graduated summa cum laude from Rice. I dress well. I’m skinny as hell. I got no muscles to beat anyone up. But some people still look at me like I’m capable of... anything.”
André sighed wearily. “Yeah. I know about that. All right. So, you ran away, and then you did what?”
“They called me,” Manny said. “I came to pick them up. And then Xavier called Paul Lott. Or he thought he was calling Lott. Xavier asked for Gabe’s telephone number, but the guy ignored him, which set off my fake-o-meter. He said he’d come to get X and about seven hours later we met him in the H-E-B parking lot. That’s a grocery store in Texas.”
“Okay,” André said. “So this is what confused me. Why did you call Gabe, Xavier?”
Xavier lifted his chin. “His father was my friend. We met when I was five years old and he saved my life in Katrina.”
André’s brows lifted, and he looked at Gabe. “Yeah?”
“Yep,” Gabe said and gave Xavier a warm smile. “My father called Xavier his second son.”
None of which was a lie, Molly thought. She still was impressed with how easily the words passed through Gabe’s lips. Note to self: he can be depended on when things get dicey.
André tilted his head. “Rocky was a good man. I miss him.”
“Me too,” Xavier said.
Gabe simply nodded.
“Whose idea was it to get your mom on board?” André asked Xavier.
Xavier frowned. “The Paul Lott guy. He wanted me to tell my mom that we were headed to New Orleans. When she said he could follow us, he didn’t seem too upset.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Cicely said quietly. “I talked to him inside the Waffle House on Wallisville Road. He was not pleased but pretended that he was just fine.”
Xavier looked at his mother, eyes wide. “You never said that!”
“I didn’t want to worry you. Willa Mae, what did you think?”
“I thought the same. He was... weaselly. Like a kid who’s broken your best vase with a baseball and is hoping you haven’t noticed.”
“That’s pretty close,” Cicely agreed. “So, we got in the minivan with the boys and came to find Gabe. Why?”
André lifted one big shoulder. “Just trying to understand. I mean, I would have assumed that he intended to kill you, Xavier.” He made an apologetic face when everyone on the other side of the table shuddered. “Sorry. Again, I’m just trying to understand.”
Molly got where André was going. “If he didn’t kill you straight out, his goal must have been to get you to New Orleans alive. That would have been easier to do if you went peacefully.”
André’s gaze swept all of their faces, then he clasped his hands. “Do you have any questions for me?”
“First, that you let us know when you’ve discovered who hired these men to harm my son,” Cicely said. “Because there’s no doubt in my mind that they would have.”
