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“Hey, hey!” I snap my fingers. “Look at me.” His icy eyes shift into slits as sweat dampens his forehead.
“You’re going to have to do better than that, sweetheart,” he says.
I nod. “Yeah, I figured. But before you sign yourself up for a very uncomfortable night, just listen. Okay? Can you do that?” He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes piercing into mine let me know I’ve got his attention. Alright, here goes nothing.
“You’re right. I don’t work for the Amatos. I work for the FBI.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?”
“It should. You see, I’m a member of the Organized Crime Task Force, the same task force that studies criminals like you, like Alister Amato. Do you know what that means, Edgar?” His eyes narrow. “Yeah, I know your name. I also know that you died in a boating accident last year with three other men. Now, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that you’re not a ghost, though this is voodoo country.” My eyes drift to his arm and the small pool of blood forming on the floor. “Ghosts don’t bleed.” I return my gaze to him, this time with a smile on my face. Two can play at this game.
“So.” I slap my thighs and stand, pacing the room. “My guess is someone had you and your friends fake your own deaths so you could move around New Orleans undetected using false identities, all the while planning your attack against the Amatos. Why? I don’t know.” I shrug. “But you’re going to tell me. And do you want to know why?” I stop as Walsh lifts a brow. He doesn’t seem very impressed, but he’s about to be.
“Do you want to know why you should be scared of me, Edgar?” I take a step forward and return to my seat just inches from him. “Because, during my time at the FBI, I’ve studied every criminal organization present in the United States, the way they operate, the way they torture, the way they get away with it. I mean, you’re a part of this world, so you know what I’m talking about.”
“Knowing and doing are two different things. You may know how to burn someone alive, but that doesn’t mean you have it in you to do it,” he says. “From the looks of you, I think you’re nothing but a mouthpiece with a decent right hook. Untie me and we can put that mouth to better use than you spewing these words you can’t even comprehend.”
I lean back in my chair. “You know, maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t have it in me to make you talk. But I know someone who does.”
At that, I raise my brow, letting the weight of my words sink in. I hadn’t planned on using the Alister card. If I was planning on just turning the man over to him, I would’ve done it already. But no. I need the intel. I need to prove to Alister that he needs me just as much as I need him. Let’s just hope the threat of a visit from the Blood King is enough to scare some sense into Edgar, or else I may have to try my hand at torture, and he’s right, I’m not sure I have it in me.
“So, here are your options, Edgar. Option one, you can tell me what I want to know. In exchange for your cooperation, I’ll overlook your transgression against me and Ms. Amato, and have you put into Witness Protection. And before you say a dead man doesn’t need protection, let me remind you that you were abducted by two federal agents. Now, my friend and I, we wore masks that will keep our identities safe, but we made sure our FBI jackets were on full display of the pub’s video cameras. When your friends realize you’re missing and that you’re in FBI custody, well, then you really will be dead. Because even if you tell me nothing, they won’t be able to take that risk, will they? I mean, whatever mission that required you to fake your death and abandon your family for a year must be pretty important. Oh, and speaking of your family, I can arrange for them to join you in Witness Protection.”
Edgar lowers his eyes as he considers my offer. “Sounds pretty sweet, huh? Well, option two is just as bitter, because that person who Iknowcan and will make you talk, his name is Alister Amato—the Blood King of New Orleans. I may not work for him, but I will hand deliver you to him if that’s what it takes. So, tell me, Edgar, is that what it’s going to take?”
* * *
It wasafter two in the morning by the time I made it back home. Thankfully, the threat of a one-on-one with Alister was enough to get Edgar to tell me everything. And yet, as I sit on the back of my motorcycle waiting for the Amato guards to let me through the gate to see Alister, the information I gathered has me queasy instead of hopeful. I’d hoped in going after Edgar and gathering intel valuable to Alister, I’d prove my worthiness to him. Not to mention I’d have leverage that would require him to help me in exchange for the information, seeing as six weeks of begging and blackmail have gotten me nowhere. But, after what Edgar told me, I’m afraid my night in the swamp may have the opposite effect. Alister won’t like what I’m about to tell him. In fact, it may just break him. And if he wasn’t dangerous enough before, after he hears the truth, he will be. Let’s just pray he directs that energy toward someone other than me.
“Alright, you’re good to go,” the guard says, handing me my ID. I take it from him and try to offer him a friendly smile, but it doesn’t work. He returns to his post as I kick up my kickstand. I’m surprised Alister agreed to see me. Maybe he’s in a good mood. At least, one can hope.
The guard presses a button from his command booth and the large iron gate opens in response, revealing a gravel drive lined with moss-covered oak trees. I take a deep breath, doing my best to ignore the heart-racing anxiety coursing through me. Okay, no more stalling. It’s now or never.
I rev my engine and set off down the path toward the grand mansion known to the world as Laroux House, named after the original owners before the Amatos purchased it in the late 1800s. The closer I get to the ancient home, the cooler the air feels as it pushes past the warmth of my leather jacket and through the holes in my black jeans. Just like last night, it’s a warning. Because what happens next will change everything. Even if it is for my good, it won’t be for Alister’s. It’ll break his heart—a heart, despite his constant denials, I really wish I didn’t have to break.
As I pull through the circle drive, stopping just feet from the front entrance, the door swings open and out steps Alister. He’s dressed in a white button-down and black dress pants, per usual. And yet, his facial hair is darker, thicker than I’ve seen on him before, and the wrinkles around his eyes are more prominent. As I cut the engine of my motorcycle and remove my helmet, Alister lowers his head and crosses his arms over his chest. Okay, not in a good mood. Noted.
14
As someonewho said she’d be a thorn in my side, and has been, I’ve got to give Ariana credit. She couldn’t have more imperfect timing considering the epic failure last night was. Yet, it’s last night’s events that make her presence intriguing. She promised my guards her visit would be worth my time. Seeing as my men still haven’t located the missing fourth man, I could do with some good news, or at least a healthy distraction from the utter disaster that is my life.
“Morning,” I say, stepping down from the stoop to greet Ariana. Sophia is inside, which means she can’t be. I’ve got enough to deal without adding a scorned sister to the list.
“Morning,” she says. Her lips lift into a small smile, though there’s something about her that’s different from all the times before. Her arms hang rigid at her sides. Her shoulders are tense, as is her neck. And she looks at me with eyes I’ve never seen before. They are dark like an abyss just waiting to consume me. When I heard she was asking to see me, there was a part of me that thought it was another ploy, one the events of last night had me happy to play along with. But now it’s clear she’s telling the truth.
“I have a feeling I’m not going to like what you have to tell me,” I say. She nods, lowering her eyes to the gravel.Shit.I take a deep breath and look toward the trees lining the drive. “Do I want to know?”
“I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”
“I’m not sure I believe that,” I say, turning back to her. “Just last week, you threatened to find a loophole in my agreement with the FBI to move up the impending investigation. Seems you’ll do or say anything to try to convince me to help you.”
“And yet, you agreed to see me.” She looks at me with a raised brow as if she knows she’s gotten under my skin. As she stands there in her leather jacket, her dark hair blowing in the crisp morning breeze, I have to admit, maybe she has.
“Perhaps I made a mistake,” I say, quickly shoving the thought from my mind.
“Perhaps. But, speaking of mistakes, I’ve learned from mine. I know I’ve been a pest the past several weeks, and it’s gotten me nowhere. Today, I’m changing things up and coming to you with information I think you’ll find helpful.”
Her brows crinkle as her plush lips part. In her eyes, I find the same hint of desperation I’ve seen time and time again. And yet, that isn’t all. There’s something about the way she looks at me, pleads with me. It’s as if she doesn’t want to hurt me, but she knows her next words will.
