RIVER

RANCH

An absolutely gripping crime thriller with a massive twist

ROBIN MAHLE

Remy Fontaine Thrillers Book 4

Previously published as Blood Ties

Revised edition 2024

Joffe Books, London

www.joffebooks.com

First published in Great Britain as Blood Ties in 2023

© Robin Mahle 2023, 2024

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The spelling used is American English except where fidelity to the author’s rendering of accent or dialect supersedes this. The right of Robin Mahle to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

We love to hear from our readers! Please email any feedback you have to: feedback@joffebooks.com

Cover art by Nebojša Zorić

ISBN: 978-1-83526-746-2

CONTENTS

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

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Chapter 1

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Remy Fontaine was no stranger to hardship, but she had been pushed to the brink of her resilience six months ago when a bullet pierced her chest. The violent trauma had scarred her body and mind ever since, haunting her with vivid flashbacks, nightmares that followed her into waking hours, and relentless pain that consumed even the moments of deepest peace.

It was Kyle DeChamp’s final act of dominance, a demonstration of power that could not be denied. He’d taken one last piece of her before finally exiting her life for good — leaving behind a lasting reminder of his cruelty.

The bullet had nicked her spinal cord, paralyzing her from the waist down. Months of hard work, dedicated doctors, and daily physical therapy now brought her to this point. Maybe her life could begin again. And for Remy, that meant her career as an agent inside the Louisiana Bureau of Investigation. Remy was a fugitive hunter.

Over the past six months, Remy Fontaine had been inside the rehabilitation center nearly every day. Sitting in the uncomfortable chair inside the exam room, she gazed through the window that overlooked newly green trees and fresh spring flowers. Her ash-blond hair had grown longer now, well past her shoulders.

The physical therapy had built up her upper body strength probably even better than before. However, her legs were still months away from returning to the power they once had. Her doctor often reminded her that, at only thirty-three, Remy was still young enough to regain all she had lost. Time would tell.

For months, she’d questioned her desire for life amid the agony. Today was the day she would learn if all the hard work and determination had paid off. Her future was in the hands of her doctor. Return to work now or wait another six weeks. It was already a foregone conclusion she would not see action in the field. That was a problem for another time.

“Good afternoon, Remy.” The doctor of about forty entered the exam room. She closed the door behind her and offered an easygoing smile as though everything would be just fine. Her blond-streaked hair was pulled back into a low bun, and she wore round eyeglasses which softened her sharp features.

“Afternoon, Dr. Girard,” Remy began. “I’m ready for some good news.” Anticipation manifested itself in her sweaty palms, which she now rubbed onto her jeans.

The doctor pulled up the rolling stool and sat down, opening Remy’s file to study it. The hesitation set Remy’s nerves on end. Her doctor was about as straightforward as they came, so this seemed a rocky start. She’d passed every physical therapy milestone, relentless in her pursuit to walk again. Even Remy could admit her progress had so far been outstanding.

“You have made incredible headway, Remy. With an incomplete spinal cord injury such as yours, where neural pathways remained, your central nervous system has rewired itself—”

“Neuroplasticity,” Remy cut in.

“That’s right. You’ve been paying attention.” Girard smiled. “And with the intense physical therapy to help your brain rewire and relearn tasks such as walking, well, let’s just say you’re right on track with your recovery.”

While Remy appreciated the recap of how well she’d done over these six months, it was time for the doctor to release her back into duty. “Doc, you know my job. You know what it entails.” Her eyes pleaded. “I can’t sit at home anymore. I need to go back to work. I’m ready.”

Girard closed the file and tilted her head just a little. She reminded Remy of a schoolteacher preparing to lecture her student.

“You’re not one hundred percent, Remy. You realize that.”

“I do. I know I still have a long road ahead of me—”

“And let’s be honest here,” Girard continued. “You might not return exactly to the person you used to be. You’ll be close, but I need to know that you’ve considered that, especially in your line of work.”

To listen to the doctor remind her she might never be the same felt like a gut punch. Now all the cards were on the table, and after months of being told she’d return to her old self soon enough, she felt a sense of betrayal. If one thing irritated Remy more than anything else, it was being told she couldn’t do something. “Does that mean you’ll release me for light duty?”

Dr. Girard clicked her pen and scribbled on the file. “You’re released. I would suggest you still use your walker, at the very least, your cane. And you must continue with your PT.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

“Remy.” The doctor set a determined eye on her. “If you push yourself too hard, you will suffer setbacks.”

“I understand.” She stood from the chair and reached for her cane. Dr. Girard opened the door and waited for her to walk through. As Remy continued into the hall, back to the waiting area, Girard made a final plea.

“You are powerful and determined. But you must understand your limitations.”

“I do, Dr. Girard.” Remy offered a tight-lipped smile and stepped into the waiting room.

Claire Dupre stood inside with eyes that seemed to search Remy’s face for an answer. Remy and her sister Claire shared the same hair color, though Claire kept hers in a short bob. They were about the same height, at roughly five-feet-ten, but Claire was beauty-pageant pretty. Far more beautiful than Remy believed herself to be.

“All finished. I’m ready to get out of here.” Seeing Remy’s smile, Claire breathed a sigh of relief.

“And work?” Claire asked, taking Remy’s arm to help guide her.

“Light duty.”

“What exactly does that mean?” Claire held the exit door open. “You’re not a warehouse worker. You’re an LBI agent.”

Remy stepped outside into the warm sunlight, feeling free to live her life once again. “It means whatever I want it to mean.”

* * *

The elevator doors parted on the floor of the Fugitive Apprehension Unit at the LBI. Remy hadn’t been back since the shooting, and the place felt a little foreign. It smelled the same, though, with a hint of musky cologne, office cleaners, and stale coffee.

She stepped out with the aid of her cane and took in the scene. The desks had little cubicle walls around them now. Nice for privacy, she supposed, but now she couldn’t see anyone. Sort of took away that sense of teamwork.

“Remy?”

A wide smile graced her lips. “Kevin.”

Kevin Ketner appeared from behind one of the cubicle walls with open arms. “I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

She accepted his embrace. He had been a good friend to her since she came into the department almost a year ago.

He pulled back and gave her a once-over. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks, Kevin. So do you.”

He swatted at the compliment. “I’m an overweight forty-five-year-old with no sense of style, but thanks.” Ketner planted his hands on his hips, taking in Remy’s appearance like she’d been away for years. “So, what brings you here?”

She glimpsed beyond him into the hall. “Thought I’d check in with the big guy. He around?”

“Should be in his office.”

“Great. Thanks.” Remy stepped forward using her cane and noticed Ketner’s concern. “Glad I won’t be needing this thing much longer. Hey, I’ll catch up with you later.” She paused. “By the way, whose idea was it for the cubicles?”

“The man you’re about to see.”

Remy walked through the hall, her measured gait noticeable to anyone who knew her. She arrived at the office of the Special Agent in Charge and rapped on the door.

“Come in.”

Remy opened the door, peeking in slowly. “Afternoon, SAC Chasse. How’s it going?”

Former partner and best friend Alex Chasse stood in surprise. “Remy? What are you doing here?”

In his late thirties, he wore his black hair short and slicked back. His youthful features were easy on the eyes, though he carried a few extra pounds around the middle. Remy had been close to Alex’s family, including his two young kids, aged seven and four. They’d become like a second family to her.

She walked inside. “Can’t a girl pay a visit to her friend and boss?”

He circled around his desk and greeted her with an embrace. “It’s great to see you. I-I just wasn’t expecting you.” He stepped back. “Come sit down.”

When he gently gripped her arm to lead her to the chair, she pulled it away. “I got it.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Alex returned to his desk. “You know, Maggie and the kids have been dying to see you.”

“Same here.” Remy sat down with restrained movements. “So, how goes the new gig? Still can’t believe you’re sitting behind that desk.”

Alex patted the top of it. “Tell me about it. But after what Hubert did, the pressure for him to quit finally got to him, I guess. He should’ve been fired, if you ask me, but here we are.”

Remy shrugged. “I’m starting to come around to why he did what he did.”

“You think he should still be running the show?” Alex asked.

“I’m just saying he wanted to get DeChamp almost as much as I did, so it’s kind of hard to be mad at him for convincing me to take this job, which, as it turned out, I love. Regardless, I’m thrilled to see it went to you. You’re the senior agent. It should be yours.”

“I appreciate that, Remy. I really do.” Alex puffed his chest a little. “So why are you really here?”

“Doc signed me off. I can return to work, and that’s what I’d like to do.” She noticed his eyes shift to her cane. “I hardly need that at all, Alex. It’s nothing more than a security blanket at this point.” He appeared to mull over the idea, and his hesitation concerned her. “Come on, Alex. I need this. You know I do. All this sitting at home? It’s getting to me. I’m ready, okay? I need you to back me up on this.”

He clasped his hands on his desk. “You know I can’t put you out in the field, Remy. Not yet.”

“I can still be useful. I get that you think I’m not ready for this, but I am. Look, I can track. I can talk to people. It doesn’t have to be me out there playing shoot ’em up, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Given our history—”

Remy smiled. “Yeah, okay, you got me there. Please, Alex. I won’t push myself too hard. I’ve come to understand my limitations. Without you, we’re short two agents. Celia, Elliot, Kevin, Pete . . . they’re good at their job but can’t shoulder the entire load.”

Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “And Grayson? You haven’t mentioned him yet.”

“Cole’s a US Marshal. He has nothing to do with us.”

“Except that we work a lot with those guys,” Alex replied. “You haven’t talked to him about this, have you? I thought you two were pretty close now.”

Remy looked away for a moment. “We haven’t talked that much since all this happened.” She turned back and jutted her chin. “Besides, this is you and me talking right now. Alex, just throw me a bone, all right? Please.”

“Of course I want you back here with us. I think you know that. You’ve hardly come by the house. The kids are always asking about you. Maggie’s always baking something or other, insisting I bring it to you.”

Remy donned a gentle smile. “Tell her thank you for me. And I’m sorry I haven’t been around. These past six months have been the hardest of my life, and you know as well as I do that I’ve had some pretty hard times. But I’m ready, Alex. I’m ready to get back to my life. To get back to normal and do my job. So?”

He eyed her laptop bag. “Do you have the doctor’s release?”

“I do.” She retrieved the document and handed it over.

Alex took a moment to study it before returning his attention to her. “Okay. Let’s get you back to work, but not as a lead, okay? Not yet.”

Remy raised her hands. “Fair enough. Thank you, Alex. Thank you.”

* * *

The law offices of Davis, Epstein, Ackerman, and Dupre were in a prime location in downtown Lafayette. Thirty-four-year-old Billy Dupre, husband to Claire, had recently been named partner. As an accident and injury lawyer, many of his counterparts looked down on him as being nothing more than an ambulance chaser. The only thing worse was a public defender, but Billy would never stoop that low.

Now that he’d been made partner, he could rub his success in all their noses. With an income in the mid-six figures, Billy Dupre, a hometown kid, was doing all right.

His office had just been decorated to his taste. And as he stood from his black walnut desk, he admired the modern, industrial chic style sporting gray and black hues. The firm had dropped a cool twenty grand to give him what he wanted. Of course, he would make that back after one case.

Billy buttoned his charcoal gray suit jacket and smoothed down his dark wavy hair. His tailored suit fit his tall and lean frame perfectly. Inhaling a deep breath, he walked around his desk to open the door. His assistant was just outside. “Mya, I’m ready now.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll have your next appointment brought upstairs,” she replied.

“Thank you.” Billy retreated back into his corner office, a spot reserved for partners, and peered through the window over the city. The Convention Center was just visible in the distance. On the opposite side was the Science Center. And his favorite coffee shop was on the street front below his second-floor office. It wasn’t exactly the Quarter or much like New Orleans at all, but it was a good place.

A gentle knock sounded on his door, and he spun around to see Mya open it.

“Sir, Mr. Galloway is here to see you.”

Billy gestured toward his desk. “Show him in, please, Mya. Thank you.” He took note of his prospective new client. Broken right arm in a sling. Hair shaved where they’d put stitches. Yeah, he could get this guy some money. “Mr. Galloway, I’m Billy Dupre.” He outstretched his hand. “Please, take a seat. Can I get you anything?”

“Just some water, please,” Galloway replied.

“Sure thing.” He eyed his assistant. “Mya, could you . . .?”

“Of course.” She retreated for a moment, quickly returning with a cold bottle of water. “Here you go, sir.”

Galloway took the bottle. “Thank you, ma’am.” He twisted off the cap with his teeth and drank half the bottle.

Billy sat in his chair, crossed his legs to one side, and clasped his hands in his lap. “That’s all for now, Mya. Thank you.” He waited while she closed the door. “So, Mr. Galloway, it looks like you’ve suffered some fairly extensive injuries. Care to tell me what happened?”

“Please, call me Pete.” He looked to be in his late fifties. His brown hair parted to one side, kept short. The small, shaved area along the right side of his head was evident. He had a deeply lined face with a yellowed bruise under his right eye.

The man explained the car accident in great detail, including how the driver had refused to take a breathalyzer test. Billy’s eyes glossed over for a moment as he pondered how much the insurance company might settle for. A court case with these injuries probably wouldn’t net him much more than a settlement would, and it would take a year or more. Still, as always, it was his client’s call to make.

“I see.” Billy nodded. “I am sorry you’ve been put through this, Mr. Galloway — Pete. Luckily, I believe I can help get you the compensation you deserve.”

“What kind of figures are we talking here, Mr. Dupre?” Galloway asked.

Billy rubbed his smooth chin with his index finger. “I’d have to take a look at your medical files and see what the doctor had to say. But, uh, I reckon we could get the insurance company to offer a fair settlement of around one hundred, maybe one hundred fifty thousand.”

Galloway’s eyes popped. “That would be something if you could pull that off.”

“As I said, I’d need to review your files, but I’m feeling confident about those figures. Now, of course, our fee is one-third of any settlement received.”

“Of course. Well, I think that would be the way to go then, sir. You just tell me where to sign.”

Billy had the paperwork already drawn up as was standard operating procedure. Never let them walk out without a contract. He hadn’t made partner because he was stupid. “I have that right here for you, Mr. Galloway.”

Galloway took the contract and the pen and perused the agreement.

Billy looked out again over the city. “Boy, looks like we might get ourselves a storm this evening.”

Galloway pushed the signed papers toward him. “Yes, sir. Which means I ought to head out and get back home.” He got to his feet. “I appreciate it, Mr. Dupre.”

Billy shook Galloway’s hand. “I look forward to working with you on this, Pete. Do be aware that my assistants will also reach out to you with questions. They do a fair bit of legwork for me.”

“I figured that, since your name’s on the building and all.” Galloway tipped his head. “Thank you again, sir. Good day.” As he reached the door, he stopped and turned back to Billy. “You know, I picked this firm because I saw you in action a while back.”

Billy cocked his head. “In court?”

“Yes, sir.” Galloway aimed his index finger at him. “I do believe you are a better lawyer than your father was.”

Billy opened his door. “You knew my father?”

“Not directly. Just seen him on the TV during some high-profile cases. I remember it.”

Galloway walked into the hall and was shown out by Mya. Billy closed the door and moved to the window, pleased with himself. He peered down to see Galloway walking along the sidewalk. He smiled before turning back to his desk.

The pop of gunfire sent a jolt through him. Billy flinched and whipped around, rushing to the window again. “Oh my God. Oh, Jesus.” He pressed his hands on the glass. “Mr. Galloway?”

He spun a tight circle, frantic, as Galloway lay on the concrete with blood pooling around him. His door swung open and crashed against the back wall.

“Billy? Did you see that?” Mya wore panic in her eyes. “Oh my God, what do we do?”

He raised his phone to his ear. “I’m calling 911.”

“Should I go down there?”

“No!” he shouted. “It’s not safe. Stay here until the police arrive.” The call was answered. “Yeah, someone was just shot outside my office window. You have to get down here, now!”

Chapter 2

The suburban Lafayette home where Claire and Billy Dupre resided lay in an upscale neighborhood in the area known as River Ranch. Million-dollar-plus homes with grand entrances and manicured hedgerows dotted the neighborhood. The modern Tudor-style architecture with steep rooflines at the gables enhanced the formal look of the community.

Remy arrived at the home after a frantic call from her sister. The usual hour-long drive from Baton Rouge was lengthened by heavy rush-hour traffic.

Claire opened the door, her short hair tucked behind her ears and a preschooler tugging on her leg. “Thank you for coming over. I wouldn’t ask you to come all this way, given . . . Billy just got home. Come in.” She stepped aside for Remy to enter. “It’s your first day back, and here I am, making you drive all this way. You must be exhausted.”

“Technically, it’s not my first day, but I’m fine. Driving’s no problem for me anymore.” She leaned down. “Hi, Isaiah.”

“Aunt Remy, are you staying for dinner?” he asked.

“We’ll see.” Inside the foyer, Remy rested her cane against the wall. “Where is he?”

“In the living room,” Claire replied. “He’s still really upset.”

“I’m sure he is.” She followed her sister. Billy sat on their oversized beige sofa with a whiskey in his hand. He stared through the tall arched windows onto the front lawn. Greenery outlined the window frames. “Hey, Billy.”

“Remy?” He stood. “I told Claire she shouldn’t bother you about this. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s no bother. I don’t know what I can do, but I’m here to listen if that’s what you need.” She took cautious steps and sat next to her brother-in-law. “So, this person was your client?”

He threw back the rest of his whiskey and set down the glass on the light pine coffee table. “I’d just gotten him to sign the contract. The guy was in a pretty bad accident. After our meeting, I was at my desk, heard the gunfire, rushed to my window, and there he was.” Billy’s lip quivered. “Flat out on the sidewalk, blood everywhere. People were screaming. It was like something out of a movie. It didn’t look real.”

Remy placed her hand on his back. “I’m so sorry, Billy.”

He turned to her, bewildered. “How do you deal with that kind of stuff all the time?”

She scoffed. “If anyone ever tells you it gets easier, they’re lying. It doesn’t. You just learn to compartmentalize.”

“Here you go, Remy.” Claire offered up a glass of iced tea.

“Thanks.” She took a sip. “Have the cops talked to you yet?”

“They asked me a few questions, but I felt like they weren’t that interested, to be honest. Like it was just another random shooting in the city and ‘oh, well, shit happens,’ kind of thing.”

“They’re overworked and underpaid,” Remy added. “And shootings have spiked here over the past few years.”

He set a serious eye on her. “A man I’d talked to only minutes earlier was murdered in front of my office building, Remy. That can’t be the end of it. Isn’t there something you can do?”

Claire sat across from them on the matching side chair. “Do you think Billy could be in danger?”

“Honey, why would I be in any danger?” he asked. “It was a random act of violence, like Remy said, they’re on the rise here.”

“Claire, I don’t see how this could involve Billy,” Remy added. “But I’ll tell you what, I’ll make a few calls. I have a contact or two in the Lafayette PD. They might be able to give me some details.” She paused as Isaiah rushed to Claire’s side. “How you doing, buddy?” The precocious four-year-old was, hands-down, Remy’s favorite person.

“Good. Are you going to stay the night?” His brown eyes were hopeful.

She smiled gently. “Not tonight, bud. I have to go to work in the morning.”

“Work?” He tilted his head. “But you don’t work.”

“I haven’t in a long time, but I have to work. Who’s going to pay my bills for me?”

Isaiah glanced at his father. “Daddy can pay. Daddy works.”

“You don’t think I work?” Claire asked him.

“You’re a mommy. Mommies don’t work.” He chuckled.

Remy raised a brow. “Mommies work at home and away at jobs. In fact, there’s no harder job than being a mommy.” She winked at Claire.

“Thanks, sis.”

* * *

The last time Remy had to don a suit was for FBI Agent Adam Ducane’s corruption trial. Of course, she was still in a wheelchair then. Today, however, she was happy to do it, even through the leg cramps and mild pain. Pulling on a pair of pants took energy and coordination. Something that had once been so easy, so automatic, now took a calculated effort to make happen. But Remy reminded herself of the alternative. This was better.

She walked into her kitchen, separated from the living room by a breakfast bar. Her small apartment suited her, but the idea of moving seemed a real possibility. Climbing the stairs to her second-floor unit could be agonizing at times.

Remy poured her coffee into a travel mug and secured the lid. Her carrier bag lay on one of the barstools, and she slung it over her shoulder. Her eyes were drawn to the living room where her wheelchair leaned against the side wall. She’d kept it there as a reminder of how far she’d come. Her parents would’ve been proud.

Stepping out into the warm spring morning air, Remy slowly headed down the steps, supported by her cane, and headed into the parking lot toward her white 2014 Toyota 4Runner. She turned the engine and backed out, heading east toward the LBI offices in Downtown Baton Rouge.

As she drove, her phone rang, and she pressed the button on her steering wheel. “Morning, Alex.”

“Are you on your way in?” he asked.

“As a matter of fact, I am. Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. I was just checking in on you. I have something I’d like to get you and Kevin to run on together if you’re good with that.”

“Yeah, of course I am. That’s great. Thanks.” Another call beeped in, and she glanced at the caller ID.”

“I heard a beep,” Alex said. “Do you have another call? I can let you go.”

She glimpsed Cole Grayson’s name on the caller ID. “Uh, no. It’s nothing. Just spam. So, uh, yeah, I’m on my way, and I should be in soon. We’ll catch up then?”

“Sounds good. Drive safely, Remy. See you soon.”

Ignoring the Cole Grayson situation could only go on for so long. She’d pushed him away, as she had done to plenty of people before him. Remy never could let anyone get too close. No matter what they’d done for her.

The downtown civics complex housed City Hall, the State Police Department, and the Louisiana Bureau of Investigation, among other government offices. As Remy entered the parking garage, a sense of normalcy and familiarity returned. And it felt amazing.

She rode the elevator to the Fugitive Apprehension Unit, and the doors parted. Remy caught her breath for a moment, preparing for a fresh start. Her old desk was now surrounded by gray cubicle walls. Maybe she would get used to it.

At her desk, Remy peered over the wall to see Kevin Ketner. “Good morning.”

A smile slowly spread on his lips as he set down a cup of coffee. “And she’s back. Man, it’s good to have you here, Remy.” He circled around the dividers and stood at the opening to her desk. “Did Alex talk to you?”

She set down her bag. “He did. I guess you and me are going to be spending some time together, huh?”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He nodded to the hallway. “Alex said we should head back for a briefing when you arrived. You ready now?”

“Let me get settled for just a minute. Go on. I’ll be right behind you.”

“All right.” He disappeared beyond the cubicle wall.

Remy examined her new digs. “Okay, this can work.” She was familiarizing herself with everything when Elliot Gainor appeared at her desk.

A stout man in his mid-forties with gray hair worn high and tight, his light brown eyes captured her gaze. “Welcome back.”

She shot him a glance. “Oh, hey. Good morning, and thanks. Glad to be back. How you been?”

Gainor had been with her to help take down DeChamp. She owed him a lot, mostly for keeping her from snuffing the life from DeChamp when she had the chance. Never mind the fact that if she had acted, she wouldn’t be in this position now.

“Been keeping busy. We’ve needed the extra manpower,” he replied.

She noticed his eyes roam down to her legs. “I’m doing fine now, Elliot. You don’t need to worry about me being on the job again. I’m ready for it.”

He held up his meaty hands. “I never said you weren’t. Just don’t want to see you get in too deep before you’re ready.”

“That won’t happen. Listen, I need to sit with Alex and Kevin, so I should get going.”

Gainor stepped out of her way. “I really am glad to have you back, Remy.”

“I appreciate it, thank you.” She was heading away when he called out to her again.

“Remy?”

“Yeah?” she said, turning.

“You talk to Grayson lately?”

“Not in a while. Why?”

He pursed his lips. “You should.”

Remy continued on, feeling ill at ease with Gainor’s words. What did he know about Cole that she didn’t? Of course, he’d try to call her, and she’d ignored it, as she had for the past week. He didn’t think she was ready to go back to work. She disagreed.

Since the shooting, their relationship had been strained. She hadn’t wanted the love and attention he offered. Her anger over her situation had been too great. There simply wasn’t enough room for love. In time, he pulled back. Visiting less often. To suggest they’d even been friends at that point would have been a stretch. Remy had completely shut him out, and when she felt ready to go back to work, he’d insisted it was too soon. Screw that. She needed purpose again. If he didn’t like it, well, then . . .

“Morning.” Remy entered Alex’s office. “I still can’t get used to seeing you behind that desk.”

“It’s taken me a while to grow accustomed to it, but I’m getting there. Have a seat. Kevin and I were shooting the breeze, so we’re ready to get down to business.”

“What do you have?” Remy sat down.

Alex retrieved the file and pushed it toward them. “This came from Valencic in the Criminal Division. He says this guy, here, took off after a hit-and-run. Killed a five-year-old girl and her mother.”

“This is a hit-and-run, and they want LBI involved?” Remy asked.

“The incident took place here in Baton Rouge; however, local PD learned the same man had been involved in two other hit-and-runs. One in Lake Charles, one in Alexandria,” he replied. “The other victims survived, but one kid was paralyzed.”

“A serial offender they’re desperate to stop,” Ketner replied. “We must have a make and model on the vehicle then.”

“We do,” Alex said. “But chances are, he’s not in the same vehicle.”

“How do they know he’s the guy?” Remy asked. “I mean, if he’s driving different vehicles and getting into these wrecks, how do they know who it is?”

Alex nodded. “DOT cameras, mostly. Each accident was captured on camera. That’s the good news.”

“And the bad?” Ketner asked.

“Now that he’s facing vehicular manslaughter charges for the two dead, Valencic thinks he’ll try to leave the state. I tend to agree with that. So, it’ll be your job to find him before he leaves our jurisdiction.”

Remy raised her chin. “Last known location? Where does he live?”

“More bad news,” Alex added. “He’s transient. No permanent address. A mailing address that Valencic checked out. No more details from that. It’ll be up to us to do a deep dive into him and search for bank and phone records. Whatever we can get our hands on that will give us an idea of where he’ll go next. He’s out of time, and I’m pretty sure he knows it.”

“We’ll get started.” Ketner eyed Remy. “This should be straightforward.”

She smiled. “Like riding a bike.”

* * *

Trent Galloway was the son of the man who’d been gunned down in front of his lawyer’s office building less than a day ago. The twenty-five-year-old now sat at his mother’s side on the sofa. “Mom, you need to at least drink some water.” The young man wore grief on his sleeve. His blue eyes appeared reddened. His red hair was disheveled and hung in his face.

“I’m not thirsty.” The grieving widow fixed her eyes on the front window. “Your dad should be home soon.”

“Mom.” He reached for her hand. “You know Dad’s not coming back. We talked about this yesterday.”

“He has to come back, Trent.” She set her watery blue eyes on him. “What are we going to do now?”

“Let me take care of it, okay? I can handle this,” he replied. “I’ll keep things going. I promise you; I can take care of things. Just like Dad would’ve wanted.” A knock sounded on the door. “I’ll get it.”

Trent walked to the foyer of the ritzy home and opened the door. “Detective Gauthier.”

“Afternoon, Trent. May I come in?” Lafayette PD Detective Sam Gauthier stood on the porch. The bright sunlight cast an ethereal aura behind him, making his hair appear almost white rather than blond. He had his hands tucked into his pants pocket. His broad shoulders made his short neck virtually disappear.

Trent stepped aside after some hesitation. “I’m not sure my mom is feeling up to talking right now.”

“I’m afraid this can’t wait.” Gauthier continued inside. “I need to ask a few more questions about your father. I promise not to stay long.”

“Okay. She’s in here.” Trent led the way to the formal living room. “Mom? Detective Gauthier is here. He says he has some more questions.”

“I’m sorry to drop by unannounced,” the detective began. “But it’s critical we keep momentum on this investigation.”

Mrs. Galloway remained seated while Trent moved in beside her. He took her hand and looked at Gauthier. “Go ahead then.”

Gauthier sat across from them in the elegant living space. Tufted emerald-green sofas. Brass nails down the carved wooden arms. A grandfather clock on the back wall and an impressive marble fireplace as the focal point.

“Your husband’s death appears to have been a targeted hit. We believe that to be the case because his wallet and car were recovered on the scene. Are either of you aware if he’d had trouble with anyone recently? Any enemies — anyone who might’ve had a reason to want him dead?”

Trent swallowed down the metallic tang of fear in the back of his throat. Are you saying my dad was killed on purpose?”

“This was not a mugging gone bad,” Gauthier said. “Someone tracked down Mr. Galloway and shot him. That sort of crime doesn’t happen without reason.”

Trent glanced at his mother, who shook her head in dismay.

“My father was respected in the community, so I can’t imagine anyone would have a reason to kill him.”

“We know he’d gone to see a lawyer,” Gauthier continued. “He’d recently been involved in a car accident?”

“Yes, sir,” Trent replied. “It happened a couple of weeks ago. Nothing too bad, but he got hurt. He used to have a lawyer, but I guess not anymore because he said he needed to go see one so he could sue the other guy.”

The detective surveyed the home. “You do have a lovely home. Forgive me, but it doesn’t seem as though your family wants for anything. Why would your dad pursue a case like that rather than letting the insurance company handle things?”

“I don’t know.” Trent glanced at his mother, but it appeared she had tuned out. “This doesn’t make any sense. My dad was a good man. A hard worker. No one would want to hurt him. Have you asked the guy he’s suing? Maybe he did it.”

“We have talked to him,” Gauthier replied. “What line of work was your father in?”

“Accounting. He has — had — wealthy clients. Taxes and things,” the young man replied.

“Had?” Gauthier jotted something in his notebook.

“That’s right. My dad shut down his business a few weeks ago. Right before the car accident, I believe. He was set to retire.”

“I’ll need your permission to look into the business if that’s okay. We’ll need a full picture of your father’s life, including his finances.” He stood and handed a business card to Trent.

“Yes, sir. I understand. I just want you to find whoever destroyed my family. I’ll show you out.” Trent led the way to the door, dazed by the implication of the detective’s words.

“I appreciate your time, son. And I’ll do everything I can to find out what happened.” Gauthier stepped outside.

Trent closed the door and returned to the living room, staring at his mother.

She looked up at him. “They think your father was murdered by someone he knew?” Her voice was barely audible.

Trent swallowed the lump in his throat. “I think so.”

* * *

For the first time in her career, Remy wasn’t quite certain where to begin. It had been months since she’d worked on a case and even longer since the case hadn’t directly involved her as the prime target. Now, she and her partner, Ketner, were on the hunt for a serial hit-and-runner. So, the first thing she wanted to learn was why. Drunk driving seemed the obvious answer. The guy had a problem with driving while intoxicated, and now he knew he faced real time behind bars for manslaughter.

As she and Ketner returned to their desks, this would be her first step — looking for priors. “I’ll run a criminal background on him if you want to search for bank and ATM use. That should give us an idea of where he might be headed,” she said.

Ketner stopped at her cubicle. “I’ll put out a BOLO on the vehicle and his description statewide. It’s time we get more eyes on this person.”

Remy’s phone rang in with a call. “Sounds good. We’ll compare notes in a little bit. You’ll excuse me? I need to take this.”

“Sure.” He started away but stopped and turned on his heel. “Hey, Remy. I’m glad you’re back.”

She smiled. “Me too.”

When he’d disappeared around the corner, Remy answered her phone. “Agent Fontaine.”

“Yeah, hi, this is Detective Sam Gauthier, Lafayette PD. Your brother-in-law is Billy Dupre?”

Her heart dropped into her stomach. “Yes. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, I should’ve clarified. Mr. Dupre is fine. He forwarded me your information, asking that I contact you.”

“Is this about the homicide of his client?”

“It is, yes. I don’t suppose you have some time later this afternoon to talk about it?”

Remy considered the question. This wasn’t her investigation, and she had no idea why Billy would have this detective reach out. Maybe he knew something he didn’t want to reveal to Claire? “Um, yeah, sure. I can meet with you. How about two o’clock? There’s a coffee shop not far from my office. I can send you the location.”

“That would be fine. I’ll see you at two, then, Agent Fontaine.”

Chapter 3

While Ketner worked on their case, Remy slipped out of the office on the pretense of a doctor’s appointment. She arrived at the café and searched for the detective. And when she spotted a thirty-something man with blond hair, broad shoulders, and no neck, well, he had that air about him. His slightly oversized navy blue suit jacket confirmed it.

Remy approached, assisted by her cane, and stopped at the table. “Detective Gauthier?”

He looked up at her, but then, as she’d come to expect, his gaze drifted to her cane. And then his face wore pity. That was the worst of all of this. She hated that look, and given her past, she had been on the receiving end of it for many years. Only this time, it was based on her physical limitations.

“That must make you Agent Fontaine.” He stood and outstretched his hand. “Please sit down.” Gauthier quickly pulled out her chair. “Can I get you a cup of coffee or something to eat?”

She sat down, leaning her cane against the chair. “Thank you, but no. I had lunch.”

“Of course.” He returned to his seat. “How much do you know about what happened outside your brother-in-law’s office yesterday?”

“I know a client he’d only just signed was leaving and proceeded to get shot down on the sidewalk out front. The perp took off,” Remy replied. “But I’m assuming you’re here because you think there might be more to it. And that it could involve my family?”

“Possibly.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I had a conversation with the victim’s family this morning and was left with the impression Peter Galloway, the victim, had been involved in dealings the family might not have been fully aware of. Apparently, the man had been an accountant for some wealthy people.”

“And how does this involve me or Billy?”

“You’re an LBI agent, isn’t that right?”

“Inside the Fugitive Apprehension Unit, yes.” Remy set her gaze on him. “We don’t generally get involved unless asked to by the local jurisdiction. Sometimes if the feds or Marshals ask, but that doesn’t seem to be the case here. Does it?”

He hesitated too long before finally adding, “After speaking with the family this morning, I did a little more digging into the Galloways. It seems they’ve become very wealthy over the past ten years. The kind of wealth that, in such a short amount of time, would only come from, let’s say, ill-gotten gains.”

“Skimming from clients?” Remy asked. “But if that was true, why did Mr. Galloway engage my brother-in-law’s firm to help him with an accident injury case, of all things? The exposure would be too great if he was already into some shady dealings.”

“The accident case doesn’t appear to be connected to the shooting,” Gauthier said. “So it’s possible he simply didn’t think there was any harm in it, and no one would connect it to any extracurriculars he may have had going.”

“Forgive me, Detective, but if this doesn’t involve a fugitive or my family, what is it you think I can help you with? As I said, this seems well outside my wheelhouse.”

Gauthier finished the last of his coffee and set down the mug. “First of all, given what I’ve discovered, I’m not entirely sure your brother-in-law is insulated from this. Second, he mentioned you had a contact at the Marshals’ office.”

“I have a lot of contacts,” she replied.

“Good.” He drew back his shoulders. “When I was leaving the Galloways’ home this morning, I noticed a photograph on the foyer table. I recognized one of the men in that image as Peter Galloway. The other was Salvatore Bodin.”

Remy’s face deadpanned.

“And by the look on your face, you know exactly who he is.”

* * *

Remy left the meeting, uncertain and apprehensive. Anyone who’d been in Louisiana for any length of time knew the name Bodin. But what this had to do with Billy, if anything, remained unclear. Gauthier may have been using Billy to garner her help. It was too soon to say, and why he needed her remained a mystery.

Gauthier asked her to set up a meeting with the Marshals to discuss the issues around the Galloway shooting. This left her with two options. Hand over Cole Grayson’s name and let Gauthier deal with him directly, or arrange for the meeting that had the potential to significantly impact her career and maybe Cole’s too. This was all dependent on what Gauthier thought he had. Right now, all he had was a name.

Another problem? She’d blown off Cole for the better part of three weeks. From the moment she’d decided to try to get back to work, he’d pushed back. She’d distanced herself from him. To be honest, she’d spent the last six months distancing herself from him.

In the back of her mind, she recalled what Gainor had recently said about Cole. That she should talk to him. His ominous words suggested Cole was at risk, but what kind of risk?

Remy continued her drive back to the office and arrived in the parking garage. As she came to a stop, she eyed her phone. It was three in the afternoon, and the question of whether Cole would answer was anyone’s guess. She’d tossed him aside. Why would he give her the time of day?

As the moments ticked by, Remy needed to choose. Ketner waited on her to do her job, and now Remy was considering taking on something entirely different. It would only hurt her current investigation. “All the more reason to call him.”

Remy picked up her phone and opened Cole’s contact. Her hesitation resulted from guilt over how much she’d hurt him. Whatever feelings there had been between them before were simply nonexistent now. And it was all her doing.

She pressed the button and put the call on speaker. Her heart pounded, and her palms turned sweaty.

“Remy?” he answered.

“Hi, Cole.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked, seeming to anticipate the worst.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I-uh-wanted to talk to you about a case in Lafayette.”

“Oh, I see.” He paused a moment. “Okay. What’s it about? How can I help?”

“This is off-the-books for now, Cole. A Lafayette detective contacted me asking for our help.”

“Our help?”

“There’s a good chance it involves Billy, Claire’s husband. It’s a long story.” She swallowed hard. “Do you think we could meet this evening for dinner with the detective and go over it?” There was a lingering silence on the end of the line. Maybe she’d pushed him so far away that it wasn’t worth his effort anymore. “Cole?”

“Where do you want to meet?”

* * *

Remy considered the upcoming meeting an exploratory mission. Nothing the detective had said in their earlier conversation suggested the need for her services or the Marshals’, but she’d agreed nonetheless and chose to drag Cole into the mix.

The meeting was slated to take place in a local bar near the edge of the entertainment district in Downtown Baton Rouge. The low-key environment meant no one would pay them any attention, let alone expect the law enforcement heavy hitters to frequent the place.

She drove onto the asphalt parking lot, littered with potholes, and searched for Cole’s gray Chevy Tahoe. Nothing yet. But headlights of what appeared to be a smaller SUV shone brightly in response to her gaze and a figure emerged from the driver’s side door; Gauthier had arrived.

Remy made her way inside the slightly down-market establishment. The twang of old country music played in the background, and plenty of dark tables lined the wood floor. She settled on a table near the back and headed that way, knowing Gauthier was just a little behind.

The fact Cole hadn’t yet arrived gave rise to the idea that he might’ve had a change of heart. Upon taking her seat, she noticed Gauthier walk inside and she raised her hand to garner his attention. He nodded and carried on to her table. Only a moment later, Cole entered. Her heart fluttered for a moment, partly from fear of how she’d treated him and partly because he was still one of the most handsome men she’d ever known. He caught her eye and made his way over.

In his mid-thirties, the six-foot-two-inch Deputy US Marshal had about eight years under his belt. His short brown hair had a slight gray streak down either side and his five o’clock shadow framed his sharp jawline.

Remy began to get up from the chair when Gauthier thrust out his hand. “No need.” He pulled out a chair as Cole arrived.

“Detective Sam Gauthier.” Remy remained seated and gestured to Cole. “This is Deputy US Marshal Cole Grayson.”

The men shook hands and traded greetings.

“Please, have a seat.” Remy gestured to the chairs and looked at Cole. “Thank you for coming.”

“Sure thing,” he replied somewhat flatly.

The cold shoulder was warranted, and so Remy pressed on. “Detective Gauthier, you called this gathering. Why don’t you tell us why you think this is a case for state and federal authorities?”

Gauthier removed a folder from his bag, sliding it across the table to Remy. “It appears as though Galloway was a victim of a professional hit. As I mentioned to you previously, Agent Fontaine, it appeared he knew, and maybe was well acquainted with, Salvatore Bodin, who I’m sure you both are familiar with.”

“Big-time drug runner out of New Orleans. Poses as a legit businessman,” Cole replied.

“More than that,” Gauthier said. “His legitimate shipping operation is the largest in the state.”

“And you think he’s connected to the shooting victim, Peter Galloway, who had just signed on to become a client of my brother-in-law?” Remy asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Gauthier replied. “I might even go so far as to say the accident that brought Galloway to Billy Dupre’s office could’ve been a hit that went awry,” Gauthier added. “Then the guy goes and gets a lawyer to sue. I can’t say for sure, it’s a working theory. But I believe Galloway may have been an accountant for Bodin.” He eyed Cole. “That’s where you come in, Deputy.”

Cole sat back in his chair and took a steadying breath. “How does this connect to Lafayette and Billy Dupre’s law firm?”

Gauthier hesitated for a moment before answering. “I don’t know just yet. The Bodins have their fingers in several pies — drug trafficking, money laundering, racketeering . . . you name it, including operations in Lafayette. But more importantly, Galloway may have left the organization, assuming he was part of it. The Bodin family tracked him down and had him taken out.” He ran his hands across the top of the folder.“ They may also have their eyes on Dupre out of concern Galloway opened his mouth. That’s where I think the connection lies.”

Remy’s heart sank. The Bodin family had, for years, been considered virtually untouchable. They paid off cops in New Orleans. No doubt, they had politicians in their pockets too. And to think that her brother-in-law could now be in danger because a new client had been associated with them . . . it was too much to process at once.

Gauthier stood. “Think about what I’ve said, but not for too long.”

“We will, thank you,” Remy replied. She waited for Gauthier to leave and she turned to Cole. “What do you think?”

“It’s too soon to make a judgment call. I get where he’s coming from, but I’m not sure what my office can do. This is probably something that the feds should run.”

“Maybe. But if this involves Billy, I’m not sure I can sit it out.”

“Sit it out?” he asked. “Remy, you’re still recovering.”

She looked away a moment, wanting to avoid this particular topic of conversation. Instead, she considered another. “Hubert’s out.”

Cole ran his index finger over the rim of his beer bottle. “I heard. How are you doing with that?”

Remy tilted her head. “I’m not sure yet. Part of me understands why he did what he did, but part of me feels deceived.”

“You’re right to feel both ways. Hubert brought you on knowing your history with DeChamp. Anyway, not my call.” He licked his lips as though he had more to say on the subject. “What I want to know is why you pushed me away. Since the accident for sure, but more so in the past few weeks.”

“I know I have, Cole. I know how I’ve treated you. The thing is, when I told you I was ready to go back to work, you didn’t support me.”

“Because I thought it was too soon, Remy. I was only looking out for your best interests. How could you think anything else?”

“My best interests include me going back to work. Not withering away in my apartment doing nothing. I thought you knew me better than that.”

Cole sighed. “I do know you. I watched you fight through pain, anger, betrayal. I watched you push yourself harder than I’ve ever seen anyone push themselves. The only reason you’re where you are right now, Remy, is because of who you are. So, you see, I do know you. And I know it was too soon for you to return — not physically, but mentally. And with Hubert gone . . . I know how you looked at him almost like a father figure. Now, Alex, one of your closest friends, is giving the orders. Can you really tell me you’re okay with that?”

* * *

Trent Galloway had been left in the dark about his father’s business dealings, mostly because he was young and uninterested. But now he wondered if his father had shielded him for his own safety. But what had his father done to make someone want to murder him? It went against everything he knew about the man. It was beginning to feel like he didn’t really know him at all. His mother was inconsolable, and he was the man of the house now. The time had come for answers. If someone had come after his dad, what’s to say he wasn’t next in line?

The first stop was his dad’s old accounting office in the city’s center. In the weeks leading up to the murder, he’d cleared out most of the office, shut things down in preparation for retirement. That was what Trent believed, anyway. Most of the files had been moved back home, but the office was still being leased. Why?

Trent unlocked the glass door and stepped inside. It almost looked like the place had been abandoned. Only a couple of desks remained, along with an old coffee maker that sat on a folding table and a black metal filing cabinet near the back.

If his dad truly had something to hide, he probably wouldn’t have hidden it at home, so Trent worked his way through the filing cabinet, scanning over documents and receipts, hoping to find something that would point to whoever had wanted him dead.

As he stood in the shuttered office, where he’d been many times before, Trent thought back to his time with his father. Nothing he’d ever seen sparked curiosity. No visitors he could remember. No strange phone calls. His dad was an accountant, for Christ’s sake. In his eyes, it was about the most boring job he could ever imagine, and he had no desire to follow in his father’s footsteps. Standing in this place, thinking about his dad, forced Trent’s emotions to the surface. His eyes burned with welling tears, and he wiped the back of his hand under a runny nose.

He took a deep breath and fixed his attention on the room; it occurred to him that his father had kept a safe in the supply closet. Trent walked into the narrow corridor. On the left was the bathroom and, on the right, a storage closet. He opened the door and flipped on the light switch. Empty shelves lined the white walls, and then he spotted it. A large safe sat on the ground tucked in a corner alcove. Trent knew his dad well enough to know that he only ever used two sets of numbers as passcodes. One was his birthday; the other was his mom’s birthday. So, he tried both. The combination to open the safe was his date of birth. It was the least accountant-like thing his father ever did.

Inside lay several files, an old passport, and a check. Trent grabbed the check. “Ten grand?” It didn’t appear to have been cashed, but confusion drew in his brow when he saw who it had been made out to. “Bodin Enterprises.”

He folded the check and put it inside his pants’ pocket before retrieving the files. As he scanned the first few — there were at least three or four — he saw the name again. This time, it was a document confirming some sort of agreement — a contract — between Galloway Accountants and someone named Salvatore Bodin. The last name was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.

He continued reviewing the rest of the papers, but nothing else appeared relevant. That detective may know what the name and the rest of this stuff meant.

Chapter 4

After returning home to care for his grieving mother, Trent did his best to sleep. Still, when someone was out there, someone who’d murdered his father and roamed free, rest proved impossible.

Rather than sit back and wait for the police to hunt down this killer, Trent decided to see Detective Gauthier and tell him what he’d found. Maybe he’d have the answers. And as morning arrived, that was exactly what he did.

The Lafayette police station came into view. The plain brick building with tall, narrow arched windows was obscured by heavy rain that fell in sheets. Trent sat inside his sporty blue BMW with the wiper blades swishing back and forth. The sky was dark enough to fool anyone into believing it was still nighttime.

It appeared the rain wouldn’t let up anytime soon, so Trent opened the door and pulled on a jacket he kept in the backseat. He jogged toward the entrance, which was framed by towering trees on either side. The main doors were flanked by more arched windows and a sloping roof.

He walked inside, brushing the rain from his jacket and raking his hands through his damp red hair. Immediately, he was struck by the smell of coffee. Beneath that aroma, a hint of gun oil lingered. He couldn’t dismiss the slightly acerbic odor of people, either.

As he headed toward the long counter protected by bullet-proof plexiglass, he heard the hum of voices and the clatter of keyboards. Officers talked on the radio, phones rang, chatter arose between colleagues.

He stopped at the counter. “Good morning. Can I speak with Detective Gauthier, please? He’s investigating the murder of my father.”

The officer took in the young man’s appearance before replying. “I’ll call back to him. One moment.” He made the call and quickly returned his attention to Trent. “He’ll be right up.”

“Thank you.” Trent stepped away and waited only moments before the detective arrived. He met Gauthier halfway down the hall. “I’m sorry to come here unannounced. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure. Come on back.” Gauthier led the way through the maze of workspaces until he arrived at his desk in the open area. “Have a seat.” When he’d taken his seat, Gauthier began. “I’m afraid I don’t have any new information about your dad.”

Trent retrieved the check and files from his father’s office. “That’s okay, Detective, because I might. Do you recognize this name? I found this check that I don’t think ever went to the listed company and then found what looked like a contract.”

Gauthier took hold of the documents. “I do recognize this name. The Bodins are a prominent family, both here and in New Orleans. Most of the state, if I’m honest. You say you found this inside your dad’s office?”

“I did.”

“I was led to believe he’d moved out of there.”

“Yes, sir. He did, but a few things remained inside. Could this mean something, Detective?”

Gauthier appeared hesitant and a little worried. “I noticed a photo in your house of a member of the Bodin family.”

“You did?” Trent asked.

“I did. You may have even met him at some point. Salvatore Bodin?”

Trent frowned. “I don’t know the name.”

Gauthier set down the files and aimed his sights on Trent. “Son, if your father had business dealings with these people, then it’s the first place I’ll look to find his killer. Were you aware of your father’s ties before he was killed?”

Trent shook his head. “No. Like I said, I only just came across this information. How bad are these people? I mean, what could he have done to make them want to hurt him?”

Gauthier let out a sigh. “I won’t know until I dig a little deeper. We’ll investigate this thoroughly, and if we find any evidence linking the Bodin family to your father’s death, we’ll take the necessary steps to give your father the justice he deserves.”

* * *

A resolution on the matter of Detective Gauthier hadn’t been reached. Remy needed him to come up with more evidence before suggesting Peter Galloway was murdered in front of Billy’s law firm for any reason other than a random act of violence. She wasn’t alone. Cole wasn’t ready to pull the trigger yet, either.

Back at work on only her second day, it was time to put the issue on the back burner and do her job. She needed to coordinate with Ketner on their hunt for a homicidal drunk driver.

The criminal background check on the man known as Ronnie Maffei returned multiple run-ins with the law. As Remy sat at her desk, she read through the records and called out to Ketner on the other side of the partition. “Hey, Kev, you have a second?”

She heard him shuffle out of his seat, and a moment later, he appeared at her desk.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I got back the criminal background on Maffei. This guy’s a serial offender on top of everything else. Where are you at on tracking down his card usage?”

“He doesn’t even have a bank account.” Ketner rolled up the sleeves of his off-white button-down shirt, exposing the tattoo on his forearm that had once almost got him killed. “Last known address is here in the city. I can take a run down there, not that I think he’ll be there, but maybe someone else might know where he went or was planning to go.”

“Great. Let’s go.” She prepared to rise but Ketner thrust out his hand.

“I can manage this, Remy. Alex said it’s best for you to stick close to the office. And I think your doctor did too.”

She cast down her gaze. “Damn it, Kevin. I didn’t come back here to sit on my ass.”

“I know, Remy, but it’s not my call. Look, I’d feel better having you at my side, but it’s out of my hands. Talk to Alex. In the meantime, I’ll run out there and give it a shot. It’s all we have right now.”

“Fine. Let me know what turns up.” She returned to her computer and waited for a moment, still feeling his gaze on her. Finally, he seemed to relent and turned on his heel, heading out of the office.

She dropped her head and unleashed a sigh. Remy knew it was supposed to be this way for a while at least, but it stung, nonetheless. It wasn’t Ketner’s fault; she shouldn’t have made him feel guilty. Instead, she would take this up with the boss.

Remy headed toward Alex’s office. No cane this time. She had to show him she could do this without assistance. Mildly unsteady, she touched the wall to help guide her along until she reached his doorway. “Can I talk to you?”

“Remy, yeah, of course. Come in,” Alex replied.

She entered his office and dropped onto the chair with some effort. “Listen, Alex, you gotta let me run on some of this stuff outside the office. Kevin could use the help, and it’s not like I’m chasing bad guys here. We’re only running down leads. Come on . . .”

His eyes held compassion. “Your doctor said you could return to work for light duty only.”

“How is sitting in a car driving around town and talking to a few people not considered light duty?”

“Remy, you know I would if I—”

Her phone rang, and she glanced at the caller ID. “Uh, sorry, I need to take this.” She answered. “Fontaine here. Hang on.”

Remy slowly rose from the chair and stepped into the hall. “Sir, I’m surprised to hear from you.”

“Remy, we need to talk. I hear you’re back at work. You have some time to spare?” Hubert asked.

She glanced toward Alex’s office. “As it turns out, I do.”

* * *

Remy arrived at the restaurant where she’d first met Special Agent in Charge Marcus Hubert. He sat at one of the high tables, where he had on that fateful day. In his fifties, Hubert carried a heavy gut. His hairline had receded about halfway. And yet to set her eyes on her former boss was to see a man she cared deeply about. The two had been through a lot. Nevertheless, it was difficult to overcome how he’d lied to her. Why had he made contact again after these many months?

As she reached the table, Remy tapped on his shoulder.

He spun around. “Remy, hi.” His smile was broad and sincere.

“You don’t mind if we sit somewhere else? These chairs kind of hurt my legs.”

“Oh, yeah, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think.”

“It’s okay.” She scoped out the restaurant and nodded ahead. “How about over there?”

“You got it.”

She led the way and felt his eyes on her legs as he trailed a few steps. Remy arrived at the table for two and pulled out the chair to sit. He reached for her arm. “No, it’s okay, sir. I got it.”

He chuckled. “I’m not your boss anymore, Remy. You don’t have to call me sir.” Hubert walked around to sit in the chair across from her.

She held his gaze. “It’s been a long time, sir . . . Marcus. No, that doesn’t sound right.”

“How about Hubert?”

“Yeah, okay. It’s been a long time, Hubert.”

“Yes, it has, Remy. And I’m sorry for that. When I was — how shall I put it? Unceremoniously cast aside, I retreated into myself for a while. Gave me time to think about what I’d done.”

Remy’s attention turned to the waiter who approached.

“Are you two ready to order?” he asked.

Remy hadn’t even looked at the menu, but she wasn’t really bothered about what she ate. “I’ll just have a burger and fries. And a Diet Coke.”

“Great, and you, sir?” he asked Hubert.

“Same. Thank you, son.” When the waiter was out of earshot, he continued. “I heard you were back at the office.”

“Who told you?” Remy asked.

“Elliot. He said he was concerned about you being back. Wondered if you were ready.”

“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately, sir — Hubert, sorry. But I’m fine now. I’m better than fine.”

“Well, you look great, Remy. You really do.” He took in a long slow breath as though he was preparing to unleash a long-winded sermon. “I asked you here today because I wanted to see how you were doing, first and foremost.”

“As you can see, I’m fine. And the other reason?” Remy suspected she already knew the reason but wanted to hear it from him directly.

“I shouldn’t have lied to you, Remy. I should’ve been upfront about what I knew about DeChamp. What I knew about Elliot’s investigation.”

“Yes, sir, you should have. I thought we had the kind of relationship where we could be honest with one another,” she replied.

“We did — later on. Not in the beginning. I was afraid if I told you the main reason why I wanted you to come aboard at FAU, you might not have. But I will say this. Regardless of why I initially wanted you there, I also knew you would be one hell of an asset to the team. I was right.”

Remy considered his apology. At the end of the day, she’d all but forgiven him anyway. If it hadn’t been for what he’d done, DeChamp might still be heading up his organization. Trafficking girls and women. All the while, Remy would’ve been a cop, mourning the loss of Max, growing exceedingly withdrawn and angry over what had happened to him. Instead, Hubert had saved her from herself.

“I never believed he would go so far as to send someone after you the way he did, Remy,” Hubert continued.

“I always believed he would,” she replied.

“I know you did. Another reason for me to be sorry.”

The waiter returned with their drinks. “Here you are. Your food should be up shortly.”

“Thanks,” Remy said before sipping on her Diet Coke. “So, are you working somewhere now, or have you retired?”

“How old do you think I am?” He chuckled. “I’ve been taking some time off. Re-evaluating things. Choices I’ve made. I don’t know if I’ll have a career in law enforcement anymore. Not after the way the LBI cut me loose.” He paused a moment. “I was thinking I’d go into private work.”

She eyed him. “Like a private investigator?”

“No, more like a consultant for local PD. Statewide PD. It’s just an idea I’m kicking around. Otherwise, Remy, I’m not sure what to do with my time. I was good at my job.”

“Yes, sir, you were,” she replied.

“And how’s Deputy Marshal Cole Grayson?”

“Doing okay. We aren’t as close as we once were.”

“No? I’m surprised to hear that.” Hubert raised his glass of Coke to his lips.

“Why is that?”

He set down the glass again and tilted his head. “Well, because of what he did to DeChamp.”

She kept her eyes on her plate of food. “What do you mean?”

“Remy, come on. You know what I mean.” Hubert leaned closer. “He made sure that man could never hurt you again.”

* * *

Cole Grayson was based at the Marshals’ office in Baton Rouge. Halfway down the hall, windows lining either side, was his office. Inside, his wood-laminate desk with a glass-topped protector sat near the back. Two light-gray wood-laminate bookshelves, holding mostly law books, flanked it. And two modern black guest chairs stood in front of his desk.

The night he’d found Remy lying in her hallway, covered in blood, had been the worst night of his life. He felt responsible for not protecting her. She knew DeChamp would find a way to get to her, and he had.

For the past six months, he had respected Remy’s wishes to take a step back. Let her heal in her own time, mentally and physically. It wasn’t his choice to do so, but he’d complied, nonetheless.

The crack in their newly formed relationship had widened into a chasm over time. She rarely called. Only returned his texts after a day or two. They’d grabbed lunch a few times, but neither spoke about what had happened or the events leading up to it. It was like none of it existed in this new reality she’d come to know, that they’d both come to know.

He’d been patient, and yesterday, she called him. The meeting was awkward, but he was happy she’d reached out. Now, however, he was growing concerned about what was going on with Billy Dupre and how Detective Gauthier wanted Remy’s help. And maybe his, too. Did that mean she would consider working with him again?

His door opened, and a fellow deputy popped his head in. “Grayson?”

He was drawn back to the present. “Yeah?”

“Deputy Director Ames wants to see you.”

“Now?” he asked.

“Now.” The man retreated and disappeared into the hall.

Grayson dropped his phone into his shirt pocket and stood from his desk. This could only be about one thing, and it seemed the time had come to put the issue to bed.

He arrived at the office of the Deputy Director and stood in the doorway. “Director Ames, you wanted to see me?”

“Cole, yes, come in.”

Deputy Director Thomas Ames was an older man with a muscular build and round features. His face was lightly lined with a high forehead. He wore a dark suit, white shirt, and silver tie, and gave off a bit of a Jack Nicholson vibe, if Nicholson was about fifteen years younger.

The tall and lean Cole Grayson sat opposite him, crossing a leg over his knee.

Ames removed his reading glasses. “I imagine you know why you’re here, Cole.”

“I believe I do, sir.”

“Then I won’t waste your time,” he added. “The investigation of misconduct into the death of inmate Kyle DeChamp is ongoing. While no evidence has been found to suggest you had conversations with anyone inside the prison that could be construed as an order to take him out, unfortunately, they’re not finished with us Marshals yet.”

“Why am I here then, sir?” Cole asked.

Regardless of this outcome,” Ames continued. “You should know that the incident has cast a shadow over your career. I don’t know what it will mean for your future as a Deputy Marshal.”

Cole’s foot bounced nervously. “As I’ve said before, sir, I maintain my innocence in this case. Kyle DeChamp had more enemies than anyone I know. Someone got to him. It’s as simple as that. He got knocked down, and someone took him out.”

“While all that is true, it remains a fact that you and the FAU agent had gotten in far too deep with that situation. She paid a steep price for it.”

I’m well aware, sir,” Cole replied. “As is Agent Fontaine.”

“And how is she doing these days?” he asked.

“She’s gone back to work. Office duty, I hear,” Cole said. “But given her remarkable progress, I have no doubt she will be fully back in action soon.”

He nodded and held Cole’s gaze. “You let me know when she’s one hundred percent.”

Cole cocked his head. “Why is that, sir?”

“Let’s just say I’ve been in conversations with people who know her well. Besides you, of course. And it’s not outside the realm of possibilities that she might one day consider a move here where her talents would be better utilized.”

“May I ask who you’ve been talking to?” Cole pressed on.

“No, you may not.”

Chapter 5

The move was risky, but Trent Galloway had to know more about his father and how he knew the Bodin family. The detective had told him to sit tight, that he would see to this himself. But his father was gone — murdered. As the new head of household, it was his duty to get to the truth. So he arrived in New Orleans. He had to see for himself what his father had gotten himself and the family business into that might’ve caused his death. The detective needed more proof. Well, it was time to find it and present it to him.

As Trent drove south along the highway, he thought about what he wanted to accomplish on this mission. If this family was indeed responsible, they would hardly come out and admit it. So, what did he expect to gain? Maybe something that would offer his mother some peace. All he had was a contract and an uncashed check to the Bodin company for ten grand. Why had his dad issued it only to keep it in a safe?

The address of the Bodin home wasn’t readily available, but it had been listed on the contract for accounting services. The only conclusion Trent arrived at was that the agreement was for personal accounts, not the business, even if the business was listed on the uncashed check.

It was mid-afternoon when he reached the luxury mansion in New Orleans. The driveway snaked up to the house and he couldn’t see if any cars were there. Whether anyone was home was unclear.

He stopped his BMW outside the white iron gates, his nerves frayed. The many cameras around the entrance were hard to miss. “This is a mistake.”

Bravery wasn’t an attribute among the Galloways, and Trent tried to buck that lack of courage in the face of his father’s death. But when a black car drove down that long driveway lined with gum trees and spring flowers, he feared the worst.

The car stopped, and Trent steadied himself when two men stepped out. Both buttoned their suit jackets and casually walked toward the gate. Loose gravel crunched under their polished shoes.

Trent opened his door and stepped out, walking toward the gate. He plastered on his best smile and clasped his hands to steady them. “Good afternoon. I’m here to see Mr. Bodin, please.”

One of the men eyed him. “Who are you?”

His knees felt like they might buckle, but he stood firm. “My name is Trent Galloway. I think my dad used to work for Mr. Bodin. I was hoping to ask him some questions.” Okay, that didn’t sound awful. Maybe they’d give him a chance.

As the taller man reached into his jacket and retrieved a cell phone, the other man kept his eye on Trent.

Trent swallowed the rising lump and inhaled through his nose. A brief wave of nausea overcame him, but it quickly passed.

The taller man ended the call. “Mr. Bodin’s busy at the moment. He says to make an appointment with his office and visit him there. He prefers not to see people in his private residence. I’m sure you can understand that.”

“But I just want to ask him—”

“Go home, son,” the other man cut in. “You’re in over your head here.”

It was probably what he should’ve expected. Trent returned to his BMW and drove away from the mansion. “Not a great first impression.” He glanced in his rearview mirror as the home shrank in the distance. “Goddam it.”

It had taken about an hour, and the sun bent to the west, but he reached a rural stretch of highway flanked by swampy lands as he headed back into Lafayette. All the while, he tried to wrap his head around the notion that his dad was gone. It was as though he’d be waiting at home when Trent returned, but he wouldn’t. Trent would walk into the house to his grieving mother. The home would be quiet and dark. He wished he understood what had happened. He wasn’t ready for the responsibility of being the man of the house, but there was no one else.

His mind was replaying the events back at the gate, inserting the words he’d wished he had said to those men, when he heard a car roar up behind him. Glancing into his rearview mirror, he saw a car following much too closely.

Panic swelled in his chest. With a white-knuckled grip on the wheel, Trent stepped on the gas, desperately trying to put distance between himself and whoever followed him. With the meandering highway and the glare of the late-day sun, it was difficult to gauge the space between him and the other car. A charcoal gray sedan. Trent couldn’t quite tell the make. “Mercedes?”

A single gunshot rang out. His back window shattered. Trent felt a sharp pain in his neck and shoulder. Warm blood spilled down his arm and chest. Shock kept him going, but his legs weakened, and he swerved on the road, finally driving off into some nearby bushes before rolling to a stop. Growing weaker, he looked in the rearview mirror again.

The gray sedan pulled over too, definitely a Mercedes. Trent slumped forward, unable to move — blood slowly seeping down onto his leather seat — until his world turned black.

* * *

Detective Sam Gauthier was sitting behind the wheel of his Dodge Durango when he got the call. “Gauthier here.”

“It’s Haverty.”

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Gauthier asked. “You still on shift?”

“Got the late-night run. Lucky me, huh?” Haverty replied. “Listen, I’m out here on a call down on South Bayou Street.”

“Bayou Street? That’s damn near the edge of town.”

“Yep,” Haverty continued. “Some kid was shot in his car and ran off the road. Shooter’s long gone.”

“Okay,” Gauthier replied, anticipating more detail.

“I found one of your business cards in his wallet when we went to ID him.”

He steeled himself for the news. “Who is he?”

“Trent Galloway. Red-haired kid. You know him?”

Gauthier’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Son of a bitch.” He slammed his palm against the wheel. “Yeah, I know him. He’s the son of my murder victim.”

“Ah, shit. I’m sorry, man. Sounds like your investigation just took a hard left into a shit storm.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll head out ASAP.” He ended the call, reached for the card of the FAU agent, and pressed her contact information. “Come on, pick up.”

“Fontaine,” she answered.

“It’s Gauthier. Hey, I’m sorry to bother you so late, but uh, I got a situation on my hands.”

“How so?” Remy asked.

“Galloway’s kid was shot dead in his car tonight. I’m heading to the scene now. Listen, I could use your help on this. I know it’s not official, but I can’t wait for it to be. I’m onto something here.”

“Text me the location.”

“It’s in Lafayette.”

“Fine,” Remy replied. “Don’t let anyone touch anything until I get there. I’ll see you in about an hour.”

* * *

Two dead from the same family, and now Remy considered the implications to her own. While it remained unclear Galloway’s connection to Billy, one existed. And she wouldn’t underestimate the Bodin family. She’d lived in Louisiana her whole life and knew better than that.

Remy had been on her way home when the call came in. Now, she headed toward the highway, back to her hometown of Lafayette. It would be foolish to think that if Bodin had already sent people after Peter Galloway’s son, he wouldn’t do the same to Billy if he thought there was a connection. Why the Bodin family would go after this kid was unclear. Maybe Gauthier would be able to shed light on that. If the intention was to make a statement, then who was it directed at?

The one person who could answer that question might not want to talk to her again. Remy was pretty sure he hadn’t accepted her half-assed apology the other night. She’d hurt him, and that wasn’t going to be easy for her to overcome or for him to forgive. Still, she needed his expertise on this — the personal issues would have to wait.

She made the call and waited. “Cole, it’s me. I’m sorry it’s late.”

“Remy, hi. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine, except Peter Galloway’s son was murdered in what looks to have been a drive-by. I got a call from Gauthier a little while ago, and I’m heading to Lafayette now. I’m concerned about Billy and Claire’s safety.”

“That means you think it was Bodin’s people.”

Remy sighed, casting out her gaze over the darkened highway. “It’d be one hell of a coincidence if it wasn’t. The kid’s name was Trent. I have no idea why they’d go after him.”

“Maybe they thought he was in the loop on his father’s business dealings.”

“Possibly,” Remy replied. “These guys could be covering their tracks right now. Tying up loose ends.”

“I have contacts in the area. I’ll see what I can find out. Drive safely, Remy. Call me if you need me to meet you there.”

“I appreciate it, Cole. Thanks. I’ll keep you posted.” She arrived at the location Gauthier had sent her and spotted the red and blue lights of several patrol cars. As she rolled up behind them, Gauthier headed her way.

She came to a stop and opened her door.

He stood before her. “You need a hand?”

“No, I got it.”

Gauthier stepped aside. “Okay.”

It took a few moments, but Remy climbed down from her 4Runner and joined him on the side of the road. “Any indication as to who did this? DOT footage, anything?”

“Not yet,” he replied. “Kid was shot in the side of the head. Pretty rural out here. I highly doubt any DOT cameras exist in the area.” Gauthier walked on toward the blue BMW that teetered on the edge of a ditch and Remy followed. “The driver of the other car pulled up behind him.” Gauthier made a finger gun as he stood at the back window. “Fired off a round that shattered this window.” He moved toward the driver’s side door. “Pow, pow. Two more rounds through the driver’s side. First bullet struck him from the back window. Got him in the neck. Second bullet struck the skull, and the third shot we found stuck in the side of the passenger seat.” He reached the car door and bent over. “Right here. Nine mil, for sure.”

“Have you ruled out a random drive-by?” Remy asked.

He straightened up. “Nothing was stolen. We found the kid’s wallet and phone. The car.” Gauthier shook his head. “No, they knew who he was. Trent Galloway was targeted — whatever his father was involved in got him killed too. I’ll check to see where his cell phone last pinged. I don’t know what he’d be doing on this stretch of road. Maybe his mom knows.”

“I’m still not sure this is an LBI or US Marshal investigation,” Remy said.

Gauthier eyed her. “What if I told you it could affect your brother-in-law?”

“He’s not part of this,” Remy shot back. “Peter Galloway was a new client. Dead within minutes of Billy’s meeting with the guy.”

“Then I’d appreciate it if you talked to your brother-in-law and asked him just exactly what transpired in that meeting,” Gauthier replied. “I’ve got my hands full with this second murder now. But if the Bodin family is involved, then your family may now be too.”

Remy took in the scene. The EMTs had moved the body. The wrecked BMW hung off the edge of a ditch. A dead kid, barely out of college, who found himself in the crosshairs of a shooter. “I’ll talk to him. I want to see where his head’s at. Then, we’ll talk about what LBI can do to help.”

Gauthier raised his hands. “That’s all I ask.”

Remy returned to her car and drove on toward Claire’s home. The hour had reached nearly ten p.m. Late for Claire and her family, but this couldn’t be delayed. She made the call, and Claire answered.

“Remy, are you okay?”

Those were always her sister’s first words when Remy called this late. “I’m okay, Claire. Listen, I need to talk to Billy. It’s important. Can I come by now?”

“Now?” she asked.

“This needs to happen sooner rather than later,” Remy added.

After a long pause, Claire replied. “Yeah, okay. We’ll wait for you. How far away—”

“Fifteen minutes. I’ll see you soon.” Remy ended the call and continued along the highway.

She wanted to call Cole to tell him what had gone down at the scene, but it was hard to let herself rely on him again. He had done nothing wrong in all of this, except help her. And if what Hubert said was true, that Cole had a hand in what happened to DeChamp, even if she suspected it, then he’d risked it all for her. That had to mean something.

Remy made the call.

“Grayson.”

“It’s Remy. I just left the scene. Gauthier is still wrapping things up.”

“What’d you learn?”

“He doesn’t know much, but he suspects it’s somehow tied to the Bodin family. Thing is, he has no concrete evidence, but he still wants our help.” She sighed. “I’m on my way to Claire’s now. I have to talk to Billy. I have to ask him what he and Peter Galloway discussed.”

“Do you want me to meet you there?” he asked.

“I appreciate the offer. I really do, but I’m only a few minutes out. It’ll take you over an hour to get here. I’ll see how it goes and get a feel for Billy’s state of mind. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Please do. Just let me know what I can do to help.”

“I will. Bye.”

Claire’s neighborhood fell into view. The gated entrance was made of iron and adorned with elaborate scrollwork. As she drove through, even in the dark of night, the homes were illuminated with beautiful landscape lights showcasing the manicured lawns, lush trees, and vibrant flower beds. Remy’s headlights caused the colors to shine. The pristine streets were peaceful. Claire lived a life she could’ve had if she’d chosen a different path but Remy wasn’t envious of her sister, far from it. This quiet family life was what Claire deserved.

She parked behind Billy’s silver Range Rover and killed the headlights. The front door opened before she had a chance to step out. Claire approached her as Remy opened the driver’s side door. “I got it, Claire. You didn’t need to come outside to help.”

“Don’t tell me what to do. I’m your big sister, and if I want to help, then I will.” She reached for Remy’s elbow and aided her out of the SUV. “You should get a car. It would be easier for you to get in and out of.”

Remy eyed her. “I don’t plan on being like this for much longer, so that won’t be necessary.” She gave a gentle smile. “How are you? I’m sure my call scared you. I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t be. Come in. Billy’s in the living room. Isaiah’s asleep, thankfully.”

Remy let Claire help her to the door and inside.

Billy met them in the foyer. “Remy, tell me what the hell is going on. Claire’s got me freaked out.”

“Just relax, Billy. Let’s sit down, and we’ll talk about it,” she replied.

“Yeah, okay.” He headed to the living room sofa and took a seat. His knees bounced, and he chewed on his fingernails.

“You have to calm down, Billy, okay?” Remy said as Claire led her to a side chair. “We’ll go through all of it and just see where we’re at.”

“Just tell me what happened tonight,” Billy said. “Why are you here?”

Remy took a deep breath. “Peter Galloway’s son was gunned down earlier tonight.”

“Oh my God.” Billy turned away. “Like his dad?”

“He was shot while driving,” Remy added. “Detective Gauthier was on scene and asked me to come down, so I did.”

“Why?” Claire asked. “That’s not LBI’s job.”

“Gauthier believes we can help. Anyway, I talked to him. He’s confident the two incidents are related.”

Billy looked at Remy despairingly. “What does that mean for me? For us? Are we in danger?”

Remy reached into her bag and retrieved the file. “Gauthier thinks that Peter Galloway was an accountant years ago for the Bodin family—”

“The Bodins?” Billy asked. “Oh my God.”

“He thinks Galloway might have been embezzling from the family. This file shows a tenuous connection, but Gauthier wants to run on it. So, I’m here now, Billy, to ask what exactly you and Galloway discussed when he met with you.”

Billy appeared distressed. “Nothing like that. It was a pretty normal conversation. Someone hit him. He was injured, and I was going to help get him a settlement.”

“So, he didn’t tell you who hit him?” Remy pressed on.

“No. I’d normally go through the insurance and get the police report. All that stuff, but . . .” Billy stared out into the empty hallway. “But I never got the chance. He was already dead.”

Claire set her eyes on Remy. “Do you think Billy is in danger? Is that why you’re here?”

Remy considered the question. She once thought she had been safe, but instead, a man hired by DeChamp had pulled the trigger as she opened her apartment door. So, could she really suggest that Billy was going to be safe? But there was no cause to believe otherwise. Right now, it looked as though whoever had taken out the senior Galloway took out the junior for the same reasons. Unrelated to Billy.

She shifted her gaze between the two most important people in her life and then focused on Billy again. “Billy, you’re married to my sister. I know you understand what she means to me. I know what she means to you and my nephew. That said, is there anything else you think I should know? Anything that might even hint at why these people could come after you.”

Billy appeared to search his thoughts for an answer. He finally settled his gaze onto Remy again. “When I met with Peter Galloway, he said the reason he’d chosen our firm was that he’d seen me in action.”

“He’d seen you in court?” Remy asked.

“Right, except I haven’t gone to trial in probably two years,” Billy replied.

“What else did he say?”

Billy lowered his gaze and appeared to swallow hard. “He said I was better than my father ever was.”

Chapter 6

The Bodin family operated primarily out of New Orleans with a side gig in Lafayette. Salvatore Bodin ran the legitimate side, while his sons, Quinten, and younger brother Vince, facilitated other operations.

Salvatore Bodin, late fifties, tall, and thickset, had summoned the boys back to the family estate in New Orleans. It was an old colonial mansion with classic French-style architecture surrounded by white stone columns and arches, with a large courtyard that served as the entrance. A hint of jasmine lingered.

The two brothers arrived and were greeted with a stern face and a deafening silence. Sal began in an icy tone. “A better location for Galloway’s demise should’ve been considered rather than outside his lawyer’s office.” He eyed the boys. “And then his son? The kid who only hours earlier was seen at this very house. Which one of you idiots made those calls?”

“The senior Galloway was supposed to be followed, Pop. This wasn’t what either of us wanted.” Quinten nervously raked his fingers through his straight brown hair. The elder brother was of average height but well-built with square shoulders and a tapered waist. His dark eyes gleamed with ambition but with the impulsivity that came with a young man in his twenties.

“What’s done is done, and now you two need to clean it up,” Sal said. “We’re expecting a shipment in two days. I will not allow any setbacks caused by the attention these two deaths will bring.” He spun around on his heel. “Further reckless actions on the part of this family will be met with swift consequences.”

Quinten and Vince headed into the hall. Vince was a few inches shorter than his brother, with a slim frame and muscular arms. With hazel eyes, he stood out from his brother and father. The thick curly hair suggested a separate lineage.

“We need to lie low for a while. As soon as the cops find out Trent Galloway came here first, they’ll be all over us,” Quinten said. “We have to make sure they can’t connect any dots.”

Vince nodded. “Pop won’t admit it, but he knows we did the right thing with Galloway. The son of a bitch stole from us, Q. If his partner hadn’t died, we’d never have uncovered the discrepancies in the books.”

“And Trent Galloway?” Quinten asked.

“We got no idea what he knew, all right?” Vince tugged on his suit jacket. “We had no choice in the matter.”

“Then we’d better do what we can to keep the cops off our tails. They’ll make the connection. They aren’t stupid.” Quinten’s brows furrowed. “So, maybe we keep going like we were. Find the money, erase all history of Galloway and his partner. No way the cops will figure it out from there.”

* * *

Remy wanted to tell Alex her suspicions that the Bodin family may have a reason to come after Billy. But if he knew she’d met with Detective Gauthier on a murder scene last night, he’d be pissed. Not only because it wasn’t an FAU case but because she was supposed to be on desk duty. Right now, though, her concerns were for her brother-in-law and whether this might pull in Claire. If that happened, no one could stop Remy from taking action.

She stopped at Alex’s office. “Good morning.”

“Hey there.” He looked up at her from behind his desk and smiled.

She continued inside with some hesitation. “I have to tell you something.”

Alex tilted his head. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. This is about Billy,” Remy replied.

“Claire’s Billy?”

“Yes. A couple of days ago, a client of his was murdered on the sidewalk in front of his law office.”

“Jesus, Remy. Why am I just hearing about this now?”

“Because I thought Lafayette PD had it handled.”

He set down his coffee mug. “They don’t?”

“Detective Gauthier reached out to me. He’s assigned to the investigation. Thanks to a conversation he had with Billy, he knows who I am and that I have connections to the Marshals’ office.”

“What does he want with you or the Marshals?”

“He wants our help. Ours and Grayson’s,” Remy added. “Gauthier insists Billy could be in danger. He thinks this involves the Bodin family. Billy could be a target, and if that’s true, I need to go in and handle this.”

Alex shifted in his chair. “Listen, Remy, I understand you want to protect him, but you need to remember what the doctor said — you’re still recovering. You can’t just rush into this blind. This is the kind of situation where even one misstep could get you killed. And frankly, is this an FAU case? We need to take our time and think about this.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Look, check out everything you can about this case. Get back to me, and we can talk about whether it’s something we should be looking at. It’s up to the Marshals’ office for them to make that call.”

“So, you’re saying we can take this on?” she asked. “What about Kevin’s investigation?”

“I’m not saying we’re taking this on officially,” Alex said. “It’s not my call, and you know it. It’ll be up to Lafayette PD and the LBI director. That said, I know you won’t sit back while your family faces potential danger, so there’s no point in even asking you to. And I can see, even though you’ve only been back for a couple of days, that what I’ve given you isn’t going to be enough. I know you well enough to understand that. So, I’m telling you to gather as much intel as possible on the Bodins and how they might be connected to this murder case. If this does tie back to Billy, then I can make a case for the higher-ups to consider. If it doesn’t, and Lafayette wants to keep it in-house, you’ll have to let it go.”

“I understand.”

“Do you, Remy? Because this isn’t a situation where you can go out there on your own or with Cole Grayson. We are bound to follow the book. I won’t deviate or risk either of our careers. I’ve done that before.”

The reminder was a slap in the face. Remy had convinced him to go against his gut when they went after DeChamp at the halfway house. It could’ve cost him not only his career but his life. And he had a family. It was clear now that he wouldn’t make that mistake again, not for her, not for anyone. “I do understand, Alex. I won’t put you in a situation like that again. I swear it.”

She returned to her desk to find Ketner nearby. He stood with Pete Milner, a definitive salesman if ever there was one. Tall, late thirties, slim and highly polished, with a tendency to wink and click his tongue after making his long-winded points. Regardless, his skills as a fugitive hunter rivaled Remy’s and the rest of the team’s. She hadn’t had the pleasure of working with him, but perhaps that day would come if she was lucky enough to keep her job after this.

“Remy, there you are,” Ketner said.

“Good to have you back, Fontaine,” Milner added. “As you can see, we’ve gone through a few changes.”

“So I’ve noticed. You’re the same, though. And it’s good to see you again, Pete,” Remy replied.

“I only hope having Chasse run the ship produces a more even outcome,” he said.

Slings and arrows were coming at her from all directions today it seemed. “Alex will be great at his job. I have no doubt about it. Hubert was too, but he let his personal feelings get in the way.”

“Right,” Milner cut in. “He kept things from all of us, just so you know. Don’t get me wrong, Fontaine, you deserve to be here. No question. But how you got here is a problem for me.”

“What do you suggest I do about it now?”

“Just do your job.” He eyed her cane. “I know what you’ve been through, and I’m sorry as hell about it. Truly. But let’s get one thing straight. You’re no different from the rest of us. And you shouldn’t be treated differently either.”

“Then we’re on the same page, Pete. Listen, I’d better get to work.” She stepped inside her cubicle. “Stay safe out there.”

She waited for him to leave before turning to Ketner. “Hey, sorry about that.”

“Sorry that Pete can be an asshole sometimes?” Ketner swatted away the idea. “I already knew that about him, Remy. So, tell me what’s going on? You seem distracted.”

“No, not at all. Let’s keep pushing. I want to help find this guy before he gets behind the wheel again.”

* * *

Billy leaned back in his chair and looked around his office. It was a little piece of his father’s legacy, and it gave him solace in times of difficulty like this. He thought back on all the years he’d spent learning from his father, both from a lawyer’s perspective and as a businessman.

Galloway’s admission that he’d seen Jackson Dupre, Billy’s father, in court back in the day hadn’t been too surprising. But what Remy said about a possible connection between Galloway and Bodin was the real surprise. He wondered if Galloway’s reason for seeking representation was because of his dad. How close had the two been if at all? It was a question that would forever remain unanswered in light of Galloway’s death but it drew Billy’s curiosity now.

Jackson Dupre had lost his license to practice law when Billy was in his early twenties. In fact, Billy had only recently graduated law school when it happened. His dad had insisted the DA was out to get him because he ran solid cases and judgments usually went his way. An easy enough line to swallow, Billy supposed, for a young man listening to his father. But was there more to it? Only a few years later, Jackson had passed away, and Billy hadn’t given it any more thought.

There was a way to find out though. Billy picked up the phone and called the Board. He had a friend there who could help. “Hey, Phil, it’s Billy Dupre.”

“Dupre, hey man, what’s going on? I haven’t heard from you in a long time, brother.”

“Too long, and I’m sorry about that.” Billy stood from his desk and walked to his window, peering down at the faded blood stain on the sidewalk. “Hey, uh, how can I get my hands on my pop’s file?”

“What do you mean?” Phil asked.

“I’d like to see what went down. The violations. The Board’s decision. I know it’s been years, but I’m curious. Is it possible I can see that information?”

“Oh, man. I don’t know, Billy.” He sighed.

“I just want to know. Look, I’ve recently made partner here at my firm, Davis, Epstein, Ackerman, and Dupre—”

“Are you serious? That’s great. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Billy said.

“Hey, that’s funny. The partners’ initials spell DEAD. Hilarious.”

Billy laughed. “You know what, I think you’re the first person to point that out. It wasn’t intentional. All kidding aside, Phil, I really need this information. Can you help me out?”

The long silence on the line finally broke. “I’m sitting in front of my computer now. Hang on. Let me see what’s in the system.”

Billy continued to study the blood stain while people walking along the sidewalk stepped all over it. He cringed every time, as though they’d stepped on Galloway’s grave. He spun around and returned to his desk to sit.

“Okay, I have something here for you,” Phil said. “I can email it.”

“That’d be perfect.” Billy relayed his email address.

“It’s on the way. Hey, if you need anything . . .”

“This is more than enough, my friend. I owe you.”

“You got it, brother. Talk to you later.”

Billy ended the call and hit ‘refresh’ on his email. The message from Phil arrived with the attached file. He clicked to open it and began to review the information. Jackson had been gone a while, almost ten years now. Yet Billy never asked what his father did after losing his license. He was too busy starting a new career and moving out on his own. Meeting Claire. All of it. He did know that Jackson Dupre had left Billy and his mother a good chunk of change that was more than enough for Billy to repay his student loans and still live quite comfortably. In fact, his mother had paid off the mortgage and had plenty left to remodel the house at the time.

Funny thing was, Billy never questioned where all that money came from — until now.

* * *

Remy heeded Alex’s suggestion and left the office to follow up with Cole. If Billy was in trouble, there was no time to waste. The only problem was that Ketner had tasked her with meeting her former colleague at the State Police to look into highway surveillance cameras. And now she was about to bail on him.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that what happened to the Galloways was the tip of the iceberg and that Billy might not be far behind in sharing the same fate. Was it possible Galloway had been a federal informant? If that was the case, Cole would be the one to ask.

Unannounced, she arrived at his office, uncertain he was even there. Remy had only been here once before, and that was shortly after the two had been introduced and began working the bank robbery investigation. She’d been attracted to him then. She’d almost gone back to her old ways of using sex as a means to forget about Max, a way to connect physically with someone if she couldn’t emotionally. Cole had been the smart one then, refusing to go down that road. Now, she needed him to help find out more details about Galloway. Detective Gauthier had two murders to deal with. Two Galloways. If she could guide him in the right direction, then maybe a connection to Billy would be revealed.

Cole’s office was just ahead, along a wide hallway lined with other offices, all with large windows. Most had blinds that were pulled closed, but Cole’s blinds were open, and he was sitting at his desk.

Remy knocked before opening the door. She slowly peeked inside. “Cole?”

He cast up his gaze to her. “Remy? Remy, come in. What are you doing here? Is everything okay with Billy?”

“Yeah, so far everything’s fine. Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all.”

With the aid of her cane, Remy walked inside, doing her best not to rely on it too heavily, though it could be challenging at times. “I talked to Alex this morning.”

“About?” he asked.

“About Galloway and how Gauthier’s case might tie back to Billy in some way.” She carefully sat down on the guest chair. “I was hoping we could talk about that.”

“Of course. I don’t have any more information than you do, though. Certainly not since we spoke last night. Gauthier’s been in contact with you. Not me.”

“I’m aware,” she replied. “I’m here to ask if you might help me determine whether Galloway was a federal informant. Because of his association with the Bodin family, I suspect he could have been. The Bodins discovered it and had him killed.”

“It’s possible,” Cole replied. “Still doesn’t clear up why they’d choose to do it in front of Billy’s law offices.”

“I think there’s something there,” Remy said. “But the first step is determining just who Galloway was. His boy was killed. His wife might be next. Gauthier wants the Marshals’ help and ours. Are we at the point where we can make that happen?”

He hesitated a moment and Remy jumped in. “First, I have to know . . . Cole.” She glanced down. “Was it you?” Her gaze returned to him, and his eyes said it all. He looked away for only a moment. She had her answer. “I should’ve asked months ago, but I wasn’t ready then. Don’t need to say anything more.”

“He got what he deserved in the end.” Cole thrust back his shoulders. “As for the rest of it. I can make a few calls and figure out if Galloway was an informant. His murder would make a lot more sense if that was true. Not so much for his son, though.”

“They did that for a reason,” Remy said. “They were making a statement. But what I haven’t figured out is — who was it directed at?”

* * *

Billy leaned back in his chair, keeping his eyes fixed on his laptop screen. He’d read all that his friend had sent over, and now, everything had changed.

Jackson Dupre had lost his license over two sketchy cases involving the Bodin family. Salvatore Bodin was on trial for tax evasion. The judge recused himself, and a mistrial was declared. The second case involved a Bodin partner who’d been arrested for money laundering. Three witnesses suddenly disappeared, and the prosecutor’s case fell apart. In both cases, Jackson Dupre had been the lead attorney for the defense.

Ethics violations were filed. A Board hearing was convened. And after twenty years of practicing law, Jackson Dupre was stripped of his license. But that wasn’t the end of it.

Billy picked up his phone. “Remy, it’s me.”

“Billy, are you okay? Is Claire okay?”

“Yes, everyone’s fine. Look, I’m at my office. I got to thinking about Galloway and what happened and how he’d seen my dad in court.”

“Yeah, go on.”

Billy peered through his office window and inhaled a shaky breath. “I asked a favor of a friend. Long story short, I reviewed the details of why my dad lost his license. Turns out, he knew the Bodin family fairly well.” He pushed his hand through his hair and closed his eyes. “In fact, he went to work with Peter Galloway after that.”

“And Galloway appeared to have been an accountant for the Bodin family. Oh my God. You’re certain about this?” Remy asked.

“I looked into a few more things after I got the information from my friend. So, yeah, Remy, I’m certain.”

“This means your dad had a direct connection to the Bodin family via Peter Galloway.”

“Does that mean Galloway tracked me down because of my pop? And if he did, why? More importantly, does the Bodin family want something from me?”

“Billy, I need you to take a breath for a second,” Remy said. “Let’s think this through, okay?”

“There’s nothing to think through, Remy.”

“Maybe you should go home and be with your family. Let me and the detective work on this, okay? Just stay low. Let us handle things. Can you do that for me, Billy?”

He closed the lid of his laptop. “Jesus, Remy, am I in danger? Is my family in danger?” The long silence was unbearable.

“I don’t know, Billy. But I will find out.”

Chapter 7

Billy Dupre hadn’t become a partner in his law firm by taking a back seat. Setting the record straight about what he knew about Galloway as opposed to what they thought he knew would go a long way to easing tensions. With all respect to his sister-in-law, this situation called for a businesslike approach. After all, the Bodin family ran a successful, legitimate shipping operation, regardless of their other activities.

Leverage would be key to the successful execution of Billy’s plan. While he didn’t have all the pieces yet to prove how his father obtained his wealth, though it seemed pretty clear, he did have knowledge of the cases that mysteriously fell in the Bodins’ favor.

No one knew who’d gunned down Peter Galloway, but the Bodins were at the top of his list of suspects, given what he’d learned about the dead accountant and his father. All he had to do was approach the Bodins and make sure they knew that Billy wasn’t his father. And that nothing Peter Galloway had said in their meeting had anything to do with their family’s operations. But Billy was, and would remain, completely detached from the entire situation. Surely these people would see reason.

The family’s operation in Lafayette was where he would start. After a quick online search, he located the high-rise office only minutes from his own.

Now, he sat behind the wheel of his Range Rover, staring at the tinted glass façade of the building. “This is all just a misunderstanding,” Billy said to himself. “Tell them you don’t know anything about Galloway, and everything returns to normal.” He was acutely aware of what he risked, but what other choice was there? To go on as usual, like Remy wanted, wasn’t going to fix this.

The day neared its end, and it was likely that no one from the family would be in the building, but he had to try. Billy opened his door and stepped out of his SUV. His polished black shoes clicked on the asphalt lot as he carried on toward the entrance. He couldn’t be sure if the sweat under his arms came from nerves or the rising heat beneath his tailored suit jacket. The temperate day suddenly felt far too warm.

He walked inside to a waft of cool air. The marble floor, high ceilings, and bright open space quickly lowered his temperature. A reception desk lay just ahead with two employees behind it. One appeared to answer the phones, and the other seemed to be a security guard.

Billy flashed his lawyer smile and approached the less threatening staffer, a younger well-dressed woman who wore a friendly expression. “Good afternoon. I’m Billy Dupre, attorney-at-law. I’d like to speak with Mr. Bodin if he’s available.” Not knowing which Bodin might be here, he took a shot at the generic question.”

The woman’s grin faded slightly as she took in Billy’s appearance. “Do you have an appointment, sir?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t, but this is regarding a mutual colleague, a Mr. Peter Galloway. This is very important, miss. I’d be forever grateful if you could just call and ask.” He’d laid it on a little thick, but when she reached for the phone, he realized it had worked.”

“One moment, please,” she replied.

Billy held his breath while she made the call, doing his damnedest not to reveal the apprehension that lay just beneath the surface of his smile.

“Sir, Mr. Quinten Bodin is here and willing to speak with you. He’ll be up in a moment.”

“Thank you.” Billy had no idea who Quinten Bodin was, but with the family name, he figured it was someone high ranking. His attention was soon drawn to the nearby elevator as the doors parted. A man in a bespoke suit stepped out and made his approach. He was young. Much younger than Billy. A son?

“Mr. Dupre?” The young man greeted Billy with a firm handshake. “I’m Quinten Bodin. I apologize if you were expecting my father, Sal. He doesn’t generally come up here to Lafayette and mostly keeps to our family’s larger operation in New Orleans.” He gestured to a set of chairs in the lobby. “Please, come and have a seat, and you can tell me why you’re here.”

Billy followed him and took a seat in one of the black leather chairs arranged in a conversational grouping. Quinten Bodin sat across from him.

“Thank you for speaking with me, Mr. Bodin.” Billy steadied his tone. “I don’t know how much you’re aware of what happened at my law firm the other day, but a man who I believe was an associate or former associate of Bodin Enterprises was murdered outside my office. This was only minutes after the man had engaged my services.”

“Peter Galloway, yes, I was aware. Terrible tragedy,” Quinten replied. “But I’m not sure how this involves me or my family, Mr. Dupre.”

Of course, the man wasn’t going to admit his connection to Galloway outright, so Billy would have to approach this as though Quinten was well aware of Galloway’s ties to the Bodins.

“I’ve come here to clear the air, as it were,” Billy replied. “To make certain you and anyone else in your family understand that Mr. Galloway and I confined our discussions to his intent to litigate due to a recent car accident. I had never met him before that day and had no other connection to the man at all.”

Quinten’s lips pressed together into a tight smile. “Mr. Dupre, why are you telling me this?”

“I’m simply looking to clear the air,” Billy replied. “I would just like to move on from this unfortunate incident.”

Quinten leaned over with his elbows on his knees and raised his gaze to Billy. “I’m not entirely sure why you’re here right now, except that you think the death of someone I don’t personally know somehow impacts you. So, let me be clear, sir. Whatever this Mr. Galloway did or didn’t say is of no consequence to me. I don’t know you from Adam, so forgive me if I do think you’ve wasted your time coming here.”

This was how Bodin was going to play it? Billy would have to offer something more substantial to ensure his family remained insulated from this entire situation. “I understand your position, Mr. Bodin, so I’ll just say this: Mr. Galloway was acquainted with my father, Jackson Dupre. I also know that my father crossed paths with your family more than a few times before he passed. He’s been gone almost ten years now. And again, I was not then, nor am I now, part of whatever operations my dad had at the time of his death. I’m simply here to clarify any misgivings on your part about me or my law firm.”

Quinten nodded and stood.

Billy joined him and extended his hand. “I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me, Mr. Bodin.”

Quinten accepted the gesture and patted Billy on the back. “I’ll take your words into consideration, Mr. Dupre. However, I should remind you that your coming here was unnecessary as I have no idea who your father is or was. But I will inform the rest of my family of our conversation. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, Mr. Dupre.”

* * *

Claire turned on the living room lights as dusk arrived. She checked the time before looking in on Isaiah, who was sitting playing games on the iPad in the living room. “Isaiah, are you doing okay?”

“Fine.” He kept his gaze on the screen.

“Okay. I’m going into the kitchen to make some dinner. Daddy will be home soon. We’re having your favorite tonight.”

“Pizza?” he asked.

“Uh, no. Spaghetti,” Claire replied.

“That’s not my favorite. That’s my second favorite, Mommy.”

“Okay then, your second favorite.” Claire retreated into the kitchen. Her quartz countertops gleamed under the recessed lighting.

Claire opened the refrigerator and pulled out the meat she’d thawed. Heading to the gas stove, she placed a skillet on the front burner. Her phone buzzed with an incoming text, so she fetched it from the counter and peered at the message. “Oh no, Billy. You’re going to be late tonight?” She sighed and looked back at the meat in the pan that had begun sizzling. She typed her reply. Fine. I’ll put a plate in the oven for you.

Claire put her phone down on the kitchen island harder than she intended and returned to the skillet. Part of her wanted to be angry with him, but after what Billy had been through these past few days, she had to cut him some slack.

While dinner cooked, she set two plates on the kitchen table and placed Isaiah’s booster seat on one of the dining chairs. “I guess it’s just us tonight, kiddo.”

Claire recalled how her mother would cook dinner most nights. Family dinners were a big part of her life growing up. She missed her parents so much. It was often hard for her to talk about them with Remy. Her sister had faced untold horrors as a young woman, and Claire always hated to remind her of the good times they’d had before all that. Before their parents died in that car accident.

Soon, dinner was ready, and Claire dished out plates of food for her and Isaiah. She carried on back to the living room. “Isaiah, it’s time for dinner.”

“Where’s Daddy?”

“He said he has to work late tonight. I’m sure he’ll be home before it’s your bedtime. Now, come on and eat before it gets cold.” She started back but stopped and turned around. “Wash your hands first, please.”

“Okay.” The four-year-old’s voice trailed off into the hall where the powder room was located. Moments later, the boy entered the kitchen and hoisted himself onto his booster chair. “Why isn’t Daddy here?”

Claire carried the plates and set one down in front of him. “I already told you; he said he’s working late tonight. It happens sometimes.”

“But why?”

Claire had learned that if she allowed one “but why” question, several more would follow. Right now, she just wanted some food and to get her boy ready for bed so that she might squeeze in a chapter or two of her latest read. “That’s just what happens sometimes when grown-ups have to work. You’ll find out someday.”

He stabbed a piece of spaghetti with his fork. “Not me. I’m gonna have other people work for me and they’ll have to stay late and miss their dinners.”

Claire couldn’t help but smile. “I have no doubt you’ll do just that, son. Now, go on and eat. I’ll run your bath afterward.”

She kept her phone on the table beside her while she and Isaiah ate mostly in silence. He asked a few more questions, but they were easy enough to answer. Normally, she’d keep him occupied with all sorts of conversation, but her mind wandered to Billy. She was worried about him.

When dinner ended, Claire cleared the table while Isaiah ate a scoop of chocolate ice cream with a dash of whipped cream on top.

“Okay, buddy. It’s time for a bath and then bed.”

It was several more minutes before she’d coaxed Isaiah into the tub and eventually had him dressed and ready for bed. Claire checked her phone. No updates from Billy. It was almost eight o’clock. “This is late, even for you.”

As she tucked Isaiah in bed, she was growing more concerned, and it seemed her son picked up on her distress.

“Mommy, are you sad?” he asked.

“I’m just missing Daddy. I hoped he would be home to tuck you in, but he must still be working very hard.”

“It’s okay. I understand,” Isaiah replied, clutching his favorite stuffed dinosaur.

Her eyes welled a little. “I’ll tell you what. When Daddy gets home, I’ll be sure to have him come in here and give you a kiss goodnight, okay?”

“Okay.”

Claire leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Night, Mommy. Leave the door open a little.”

“I will.” Claire pulled the door until it was only open about an inch or two. She returned to the living room and continued to check her phone. “All right. I’m going to have to call you, aren’t I?”

* * *

Billy had returned to his office, feeling as though his message to the Bodins had been received. But there was much more to learn about his father’s suspected ties to the crime family.

On his way back, he had quickly diverted to his mother’s house to retrieve Jackson’s computer. The old CPU had been stored away in a closet. Billy plugged it in, and the thing still worked. Maybe he’d find more details about whatever his father and Galloway had going on and why Galloway had reached out.

A knock sounded on the main door and drew Billy’s attention. “What the hell?” He glanced at the clock. The partners and staff were long gone, and he was alone. Maybe it was Claire? She wasn’t prone to checking up on him, but he knew she was worried about this whole situation.

Billy pushed back his executive chair and got to his feet. He walked around the desk and into the hall. The thud sounded again, harder this time. It wasn’t Claire. A knot tightened his gut when he spotted a dark figure on the other side of the obscured glass door. Billy unlocked it and pulled it open.

An imposing figure stepped inside, and Billy immediately knew it was Salvatore Bodin. He’d seen enough pictures of the man who had been in the news more than a few times over the years.

Bodin wore a stern expression on his face and continued inside. His gaze never left Billy as he circled him, looking him up and down before speaking in a cold, calculating tone. “I understand you paid my son a visit at our office today?”

Billy trembled under the man’s stare but mustered enough courage to speak. In a small voice, he answered, “I did, sir. I was simply attempting to clear the air.” He stepped back, feeling like Bodin was invading his personal space. “You’re welcome to come to my office if you’d like to sit down and talk.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Bodin continued to stare him down, then stepped closer. “Peter Galloway was a good friend of mine. Known him for years. Knew your father too.”

Billy’s lips parted slightly in surprise. “You knew him?”

“I did. Now, I feel terrible about what happened to Pete. He used to be one of my accountants, helping run the operation here in Lafayette. Damn shame how things went down.”

Fear gripped Billy’s chest as he looked into this man’s eyes. He noticed the subtle changes in Bodin’s features — how his jaw seemed to twitch, the way his nostrils flared when he spoke — giving away more anger within than he let on outwardly. “You say he used to be your accountant?”

“That’s right. Peter made a hasty departure from my employ about two years ago. Frankly, I hadn’t heard his name since. Look, son, I know what you must be thinking. And you’re right.” His lips ticked up into a smile. “The best thing for you to do is keep out of our business, and we’ll do the same with yours. Can we agree to that?”

“Yes, sir. It was never my intention to . . .”

“Good.” Bodin surveyed the lobby. “Nice place you got here. You Dupres have done well for yourselves.” He started toward the door again. “Have yourself a good evening, sir.”

* * *

Claire curled up on the sofa under the soft amber light of the side table lamp. She held her phone, waiting for a response. It was almost ten p.m. He should’ve been home or at least he should’ve contacted her with an update.

She considered calling Remy, fearing the worst. If it got to be much later, it was her next call. But right now, pulling Remy into this after all she’d just overcome, well, it wasn’t her first choice.

Moments later, headlights shone around her drawn living room curtains. Claire shot up from the couch and ran to the front door. Her heart pounded. She was ready to lay into him for making her worry the way he had.

As she opened her front door, Billy stood before her, wearing a look she’d never seen before. “Billy, are you okay?”

“I don’t know yet.” He walked inside and removed his suit jacket.

Claire closed the door and peered at her husband. “Why are you so late?”

Billy glanced upstairs. “Shhh. Don’t wake Isaiah.” He motioned Claire to the living room.

“What happened? Are you hurt? What’s going on, Billy? You’re scaring me.”

“I tried to take care of it.” He sat down on the sofa. “Don’t call Remy. It’ll only make things worse.”

Chapter 8

The situation with Billy had taken an unexpected turn. The connection between his father and the Bodins raised the hairs on Remy’s neck. Cole was still working to learn whether Peter Galloway had been a federal informant but it almost seemed irrelevant in light of Billy’s findings. Maybe Galloway had tracked him down because of his father.

She arrived at her desk early, hoping to catch up on the leads Ketner had asked her to follow. But before she had the chance to get her arms around it, he appeared at her desk.

He rested an arm on the cubicle wall and cocked his head. “Good morning. So, are we still working together on these hit-and-run cases, or are you going to take off again on some other thing you haven’t told me about?”

She frowned. “I deserve that. Kevin, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, I just need to know if I should get Alex to partner me with Celia or Pete or someone because I feel like I’m out here on my own, Remy. This isn’t like you. What the hell’s going on?”

“I’m not completely sure right now, to be honest.”

“I thought you wanted to get back into the swing of things, so what happened?”

“You have every right to be pissed. Look, what can I do? I’m here. I’m ready to hit the ground running. Just tell me what you need,” she replied.

“I need a damn partner. Either you’re in or you’re out.” Ketner marched off toward his desk.

“Remy?”

She spun around to see Alex in the hall. “Yeah?”

“Come on back, would you?”

He had walked back to his office before she’d even stood from her chair. It took time for her to make her way through the hall, finally reaching his doorway. And the look on Alex’s face delivered the final gut punch. “I guess you heard what Kevin said out there?”

From behind his desk, Alex crossed his arms. “We talked about this Galloway situation, and I agreed to let you get more details to determine whether LBI should move on it, but I didn’t mean for you to do it at the expense of the case you’re working with Kevin right now. I need you here, Remy. I need you present.”

She sat down. “I get that. I did find out more, somewhat troubling, information, but I’m here, okay? I’m here, and I want to be here. I just told Kevin the same thing.” Her phone rang, and the caller ID showed Claire’s name.

He eyed her. “You need to get that?”

“It’s Claire. I’m sorry.” She answered. “This isn’t a good time . . . What?” Her gaze hardened. “When? Is he okay?”

Alex’s eyes narrowed with concern.

“I’m at the office. Why didn’t you tell me last night? For God’s sake, Claire.” She pressed her hand on her forehead.

“What’s going on?” Alex whispered.

Remy raised her hand. “Yeah, okay. Look, I don’t know if it’s safe for you guys now. Christ, I can’t believe I’m even saying that after Tim had to get you out last time . . . I know that was different. Just sit tight. I have to take care of some things . . . Okay. I’ll call you back. Bye.”

“What the hell’s going on, Remy?” Alex asked.

“Salvatore Bodin paid Billy a visit at his office last night.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“It’s a long story. Billy found a connection between his dad and Bodin. I have no idea why the man would show up, but he did. Claire says Billy’s fine but that he’s on edge. She’s distraught. He didn’t tell her what Bodin said to him.”

“Go talk to Billy. Find out what transpired. I won’t risk his safety. But I want a rundown of the situation, you understand?”

“Of course.” She slowly stood. “And Kevin? What can I do to smooth things over with him? Should I just step back from that until all this is resolved?”

Alex appeared to consider the question. “Find out why Bodin went to see Billy. We’ll figure out what to do from there.”

* * *

Sal Bodin waited in his son’s office with his feet on the desk. When Quinten arrived, Sal checked the time. “You’re late.”

“It’s eight fifteen,” Quinten replied.

“Like I said, you’re late.” He returned his feet to the floor and pulled up behind the desk. With his hands folded over a stack of papers, he glared at his son. “I need you to find out what Billy Dupre knows about his father’s partnership with Galloway. After he came here yesterday, I paid a visit to his office. Figured he might be there. The guy was scared. Insisted he knew nothing about Jackson Dupre’s business with Galloway. I don’t buy it.”

“I don’t know, Pop,” Quinten began. “When he came here, he made sure to impress upon me that he had never known or been involved in his dad’s business. The thing with Galloway using him with that lawsuit . . . seems suspicious as hell, though.”

Sal nodded, his face expressionless. “That’s why I’m here. You’re going to need to find out the whole story. This guy’s a lawyer. He could be biding his time until he figures out how to use whatever information Pete offered up to him. If he knows where the money is, we’ll need to keep our eyes on him.”

“Of course, Pop. I’ll take care of it.”

* * *

While Remy understood both Alex’s and Kevin’s position on the matter of her caseload, this Billy situation had been unexpected, to say the least. And she would never jeopardize her family’s safety. Alex understood that, and if she explained it to Kevin, he would too. But with two dead Galloways and her brother-in-law’s connections, well, she’d barely scratched the surface.

Before making the drive to Claire’s house in Lafayette, Remy stopped at the Marshals’ office to see Cole. Knowing whether Galloway was an informant could change the trajectory. So she wanted to be armed with all possible information. As she entered, she spotted him in the lobby.

“Remy, hey.” He walked toward her. “How’s Billy holding up?”

“Not good. What the hell are we going to do about this, Cole?”

He looked around, checking for eavesdroppers, before placing his hand on her back and leading her into the hall. “Come on. Let’s talk about this in my office.”

She walked beside him down the corridor, feeling the eyes of people in their offices on the two of them. He held open his door, and she walked inside.

Cole set down a cup of coffee on his desk. “Take a seat. I got you some coffee.”

“Thanks.” Remy wrapped her hands around the mug, soothed by its warmth. Sipping on the brew helped calm her nerves.

Cole pulled out his desk chair and took a seat. “When you called to say you were heading over, I contacted my guy in the Lafayette field office about Galloway.”

“And?” she asked.

“He wasn’t able to determine whether Galloway had been an informant. I’m sorry. I wish I had better news.”

Remy set down the mug. “So now what? I can’t have Salvatore Bodin showing up at my brother-in-law’s office. And from what I know about that family, if any one of them shows up again, I don’t think they’ll be interested in conversation.”

Cole glanced up as if in thought. “You’re headed to see Billy now, so you’ll need to find out what else he knows about his dad’s business. I think it’s pretty clear Galloway went to him because he thought he might know something.”

“Which means Galloway may have been fishing,” Remy replied. “But for what? And why go through the whole process of a lawsuit for a car accident?”

“These are questions for Billy,” Cole replied.

Remy nodded. “I’ll see what I can get from him, making sure he knows that a visit from Sal Bodin isn’t a minor event. They think he knows whatever Galloway knew, and that’s a problem.”

“What does Detective Gauthier have to say about this?” Cole asked. “This is still his investigation. He should be brought up to speed. We can’t act alone on this.”

“I haven’t told him any of this yet. I will,” she replied. “It’ll matter to his case.”

“Yep. I would call him first,” Cole said. “Fill him in on what happened, and then go see Billy.”

“What about hiding them for a while? Am I jumping the gun?” Remy asked. “The thought of doing that to them again after—”

“First things first,” he cut in. “Find out what Billy knows. The Bodins know where he works, and no doubt, they know where he lives. He has no choice but to come clean about everything, even if he doesn’t believe it’s relevant.”

“I got it.” Remy pushed up from the chair and reached for her cane. “I’ll run over to Lafayette PD first and get with Gauthier.”

“What can I do in the meantime, Remy?” he asked.

She smiled gently. “Just answer if I call.”

“You know I will.”

* * *

Remy arrived at the Lafayette stationhouse and caught up to Gauthier at his desk. “We need to talk.”

He looked up at her, appearing nonplussed. “About?”

She took a seat on his side chair. “My brother-in-law, Billy Dupre, was paid a visit by none other than Salvatore Bodin last night.”

Gauthier searched through the piles of paper on his desk. “Dupre. At the law firm?”

“His father was Jackson Dupre,” Remy cut in. “He told me his dad seemed well-connected to the Bodins and also did work with Galloway, though I don’t know in what capacity.”

Gauthier snapped his fingers. “That’s where I know the name.” He rifled through more papers and retrieved a file. “As I started looking into Galloway’s work history, I saw that he once had a partner in his accounting firm.”

“Jackson Dupre?” she asked.

“That’s right. The relationship dissolved not long after it started.” He tilted his head. “Did Bodin threaten your brother-in-law?”

“I don’t know what transpired yet. I’m heading to see Billy after this,” Remy replied.

“What about Galloway being an informant?”

“Based on what I know right now, it doesn’t appear that he was. So, best guess, he had information on his bosses and was prepared to use it. He wanted to find out what Billy knew first, so he tracked him down and went in on the pretense of some accident lawsuit. I have no idea if he planned to tell Billy he knew his father well, but he had something planned.”

“Someone got to him before he could execute it,” Gauthier replied. “What I don’t get is why put himself out there in the public eye by way of this lawsuit, if he had planned on handing over State’s evidence?”

“Maybe so he could be put in the public eye,” Remy said. “Thinking it would protect him.”

“It didn’t,” Gauthier added. “It didn’t protect him or his kid. Now I have to find a way to prove it was a Bodin hit.”

“My only concern right now is keeping my family safe. I’ll keep a lid on Billy. I have a feeling he’s scared out of his mind right now and has no plans on talking to anyone. I’ll see to it he stays that way. In the meantime, I’m in on this with you.”

“So, I can officially count on LBI to throw their hat into the ring?” Gauthier asked.

Remy considered the question. Alex had been on the fence, even after this, but he was close. She could sway him. Alex had been like a brother to her. He would want this resolved just as she did. But would he risk his authority to do so? “You can count on us.”

* * *

Claire stood on the other side of the wide-open front door while Remy walked up the porch steps. She could already see Claire’s face. The fear in her eyes. The wondering whether her family’s lives were once again at risk. The fear was the same, even if the cause was different.

Claire stepped back. “Come in. Billy’s inside.”

Remy felt the strain on her legs as she entered the foyer. Her muscles ached. Pain shot through her nerves. It had been too much driving, too much activity. At least Alex wasn’t here to see it and tell her he was right to insist she take it easy. Her doctor would say the same thing to her, but for now, Remy needed to be here for Claire and her family. The rest would have to wait.

“You want something to drink?” Claire asked as she led Remy toward the living room.

“I wouldn’t mind a glass of water,” she replied.

Claire nodded. “Go on in. I’ll bring you some water.”

Remy walked into the living room. “I heard you had a visitor last night.”

Billy shifted his gaze to her. “You didn’t need to come over again, Remy. I’m fine. I wasn’t hurt. I wasn’t even threatened.”

She joined him on the sofa. “Then why do you think he stopped by?”

“I might’ve brought it on myself.” He appeared sheepish. “I-uh-thought it’d be a good idea to try to set the record straight. So, I paid a visit to their office downtown. I talked to Quinten Bodin. Thought we were on the same page. But I guess Salvatore Bodin didn’t think so.”

Remy closed her eyes. “Why would you do that, Billy? You understand who these people are, right? After what happened to Peter Galloway and his son, you really thought it was a good idea to poke that bear?”

“I just wanted them to know I had nothing to do with whatever Galloway had up his sleeve. He never told me anything other than what was related to his injury case.” Billy rubbed his forehead. “I was trying to be proactive.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not what those types of people react well to. But I need to say something, and I need to know you’re listening,” Remy said.

Claire returned with glasses of water. “Here you go.”

Remy took one of them. “Thanks, Claire. Sit down. You should hear this too.”

“Okay,” she replied.

“I want you to do something for me, Billy,” Remy began. “I want you to keep quiet about what happened. No one can know that Salvatore Bodin came to see you. Not even your partners. No one.”

“But don’t you think it’d be better to tell my partners? If nothing else, then if something happens to me, they’ll all know who to ask.” Billy chuckled.

“That’s not funny,” Claire shot back. “None of this is funny, Billy. Why do you think Remy’s here?”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, jeez. I’m sorry, all right? I’m stressed out about this as it is. I was just trying to lighten the mood.” Billy returned his attention to Remy. “I think Bodin knew my dad. After what I learned about the mistrials and the connection to Galloway, it makes sense now that these guys think I know something. That’s why Bodin came to see me. He figures Jackson Dupre’s son must have information.”

“But about what?” Remy asked. “What are they looking for? I never met your dad. Who was he?”

Billy glanced at Claire. “I only just found some of this out. But Dad was a trial lawyer for a while. Lost his license. Then he went into business with Peter Galloway.”

“Does your mom know anything?” Remy pressed on.

“Maybe,” he replied. “We don’t talk about Dad.”

“Alex and I will be working with Lafayette PD on the investigations into the Galloway murders,” Remy began. “Detective Gauthier knows Bodin came to see you. We may even need to recruit the Marshals if it leads to their shipping operations. Point is, we’re taking the reins from here. And the only way I’ll feel even remotely comfortable is if I know you’re out of the way and safe. That means staying quiet for now. Bodin won’t come to you again unless you start making noise.”

* * *

There was only one thing left to do, and that was to get Hubert on board. Tensions remained high between Alex and him. After all, Alex had taken Hubert’s job, even helped drive Hubert out. He had been upset at Hubert’s manipulation. Remy had been too — for a while.

Hubert still had plenty of support from the LBI, including from the director. Maybe it was because the governor had hailed the LBI for its takedown of DeChamp. The FBI had played its part, too, but didn’t get the same recognition. If Hubert pulled the right strings with the director, Remy knew he’d lend his support to the operation. Especially considering this was the Bodin family, who, for years, had evaded justice.

Remy arrived at the same restaurant where they’d first met. Funny how it seemed to be theirs now. Hubert sat in a booth near the back, probably mindful not to take a high-top table. Remy joined him. “Hi.”

“Back at you.” He let his eyes roam over her. “I have to say, Remy, you’re looking a little tired. You sure you’re not overworking yourself?”

“Is there another way to work?” she asked, propping her cane against the back of the booth.

“Not for you, I’m afraid.” He leaned back. “I’m sorry about your brother-in-law. How’s he doing?”

“His nerves are shot, as you’d expect. Claire’s terrified.”

“She’s right to be afraid,” Hubert added. “I’ve known plenty of people who tried to take on the Bodin family. None were successful.”

“So, you think this is a fruitless endeavor?”

“You didn’t let me finish. None were successful because they weren’t you.” He grinned. “I still can’t apologize enough for what I did to you, Remy, but damn if you aren’t the best I’ve seen out there in the field. I made the right call, even if it was under a false pretext.”

“I was angry — for a long time,” she replied. “But if you hadn’t done what you did, I’d still be a state trooper. I’d still be running away from my problems through various unhealthy vices. And DeChamp would still haunt me.” Remy paused a moment. “What you did was shitty, but I’ve forgiven you. And in the end, I’m finally able to move on with my life.”

Hubert appeared sheepish and lowered his gaze. “So, what do you need from me now, Remy?” He looked up again. “How can I help?”

“I may need you to pull a rabbit out of a hat for me right now, sir,” Remy replied. “First of all, you’ll have to smooth things over with Alex.”

“You think I haven’t tried? He’s still plenty pissed at me,” Hubert said. “Not sure how he’ll react, both of us ganging up on him.”

“Not ganging up. No, he needs to see that this is something we should be involved with.”

“The way I see it, Remy, we don’t have ourselves a fugitive on the run in this instance. Detective Gauthier is right about part of it. He should be running this show.”

“He needs our help,” Remy said.

“He needs the Criminal Division to help, not FAU,” Hubert replied. “But I’ll see if Alex will agree to talk. I want you to understand one thing, though.”

“What’s that?” Remy asked.

“You’ll have to be okay with Alex running things now. You and I worked well together. You took your orders and did your job. Alex deserves the same treatment. I know how close you two are, and frankly, that might be part of the problem. But you have to be good with SAC Alex Chasse. If you’re not, it’s best you consider moving on.”

Chapter 9

Claire stopped at the cemetery on her way home from a quick run to the store. Isaiah was in the back seat, and as she parked, she turned back to him. “Would you like to see where Papa and Gigi are buried?”

“Cause they’re dead, huh?” he replied.

“That’s right. Like we talked about.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of her white Mercedes SUV. She opened the rear passenger door. Isaiah had already unbuckled his booster seat. “How do you know how to do that?”

He shrugged. “Cause I’m four. I’m not a baby anymore, Mommy.”

“Right, okay.” She helped him out. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready.”

They walked into the cemetery grounds for several yards until coming up on the gravesite. “Here they are.” She stopped in front of the headstones. When they’d died, neither Remy nor Claire had the money to give them the kind of headstone they deserved, so it was only a small marker for each of them. “Over here, honey. Come say hi.” She sensed his hesitation. “It’s okay. Really, Papa and Gigi are in heaven, but this is where we come to talk to them.”

He stopped cold. “They can talk?”

“Oh, no, sweetheart. That’s not what I meant,” Claire replied. “What I meant to say is this is where I get to tell them all the things about you, about Daddy, about Aunt Remy. They can hear me; they just can’t talk back.”

“Oh, okay.” He turned to them. “Hi, Papa and Gigi. I’m four now.”

Claire’s eyes welled as she looked at her son, who her parents never got the chance to meet. “You know what, honey? I’m going to talk to them for a minute. Is that okay?”

“Okay.”

“Why don’t you put in your headphones, and you can play on my phone while I do?” She retrieved her phone. “Here you go, baby.”

After the boy had started his game, Claire turned back to the headstone. “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. It’s been a while. I’m sorry for that. But I’m here now, and I brought Isaiah with me. Boy, how I wish you could’ve met him. He’s such a great kid, but maybe you already know that. You probably also know he’s not the reason I’m here.” She cleared her throat. “I’m scared. Scared for Billy. Scared for Remy. I thought after all this DeChamp stuff was done things would return to normal. Instead, Remy’s on a quest to prove herself. And Billy thinks he can fix anything.”

She sat down on the cool, damp grass and crossed her legs. “I guess I’m here hoping you can try to talk some sense into your other daughter. Remy’s not okay, Mom, Dad. She thinks she is, but she’s not. She went back to work too soon, and now she’s throwing all her energy into this thing. I don’t even know what it is. But I do know it’s because she wants to protect Billy. Wants to protect all of us. I just don’t know what it will cost her this time.”

Claire heard the rumble of a car’s engine behind her. She glanced at Isaiah before peering over her shoulder. A gray sedan rolled slowly by. She knitted her brow and turned back to the headstone. “Please help me keep everyone safe.”

* * *

When Remy walked into the FAU with former SAC Marcus Hubert at her side, more than a few heads turned their way.

Ketner was the first to approach and offer a greeting. “SAC Hubert. It’s good to see you, sir.”

“It’s just Hubert now, Kevin. Good to see you too. How are you keeping?”

“Busy.” He cast a glance at Remy. “I could use some help. We seem to be short-handed in that department.”

The dig didn’t go unnoticed by either Remy or Hubert. “I’ll make things right, Kevin. I will.” She glanced down the hall. “Do you know if Alex is in?”

“Last I checked, he was in his office,” Ketner replied.

“Thank you.” As she started off, Ketner reached for her shoulder. Remy turned to him again.

“If you told me what was going on, it’d be easier for me to understand.”

“I will, Kevin. I’ll tell you everything.” She carried on again with Hubert beside her.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Remy,” he called out.

She raised a hand. “Me too, Kevin. Me too.”

They approached Alex’s office, and Remy stepped inside. “Hey, I’ve got someone here to see you.”

Hubert entered. “Afternoon, Alex.”

“Sir?” He circled around his desk. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, Remy asked for my input, so we’d like to sit and chat with you about a few things regarding her brother-in-law, Billy Dupre.”

Alex set a firm gaze on Remy. “You’re ambushing me?”

“No. Please, Alex. I saw Billy this morning. I’ve talked to Detective Gauthier. Can we sit down?”

Alex gestured to the chairs. “Go ahead.”

Hubert cleared his throat, then began to speak. “Alex, I need you to understand why I lied to you. At the time, I couldn’t reveal why I’d brought Remy onto this team. But I knew she could do the job. That was never in question. I lied to both of you, and I hope one day you’ll forgive me.”

Alex glanced at Remy. “It wasn’t my life that got screwed over. It was hers.” He turned back to Hubert. “And I’d worked for you for years, sir. I expected more than lies and manipulation. If Remy had known from the beginning, she could’ve made an informed decision, but you took that from her.” He lowered his gaze. “I can’t understand why she doesn’t see that.”

“I do, Alex,” Remy replied. “If I had known at the outset, maybe I would’ve still made the move, maybe not. I was in a bad place then. You know that. But at the end of the day, the man I most feared is gone — forever.” She looked at Hubert. “And despite how it happened, it did happen. If I can get past it, so can you, Alex.”

He drew back his shoulders. “You want a commitment from FAU on the Lafayette investigation.”

“Yes,” Remy replied. “And Hubert’s here because he and the director have remained on good terms. If he can convince him to take this on, and with your backing, that’s all we’ll need. Gauthier is desperate for our help because this involves my family.”

Alex rubbed his chin. “If Hubert can get the director’s buy off, I guess I don’t have a problem with assigning you to the case. But given your current limitations, I’m not convinced you’re up to the demand of it.”

“Alex has a point,” Hubert added.

“If we get the green light” — Remy nodded — “I’ll be up to the task. No one needs to second-guess that.”

“Then I’ll run it up the chain to the director with Alex’s support,” Hubert replied. “If he has a chance to get LBI’s name on a collar like the Bodin family, he might just go for it.”

“Thank you, Alex. Sir,” Remy said. “I’ll give the detective the news.”

The trio stood, ready to part ways. Alex started for his office door, but Remy grabbed his arm. She had a determined gleam in her eye. “Let’s grab lunch together. There’s so much more I need to talk to you about.”

Alex gave her a long look. “Sure.”

* * *

Remy and Alex arrived at the small but popular lunch spot near the state government complex. As they stepped inside, the smell of freshly baked bread, cookies, and potato chips wafted through the air. The majority of the lunch crowd had already vanished as it approached two p.m., so they slipped into a booth near the back.

A waiter quickly approached. “Hi there, may I take your order?”

“I’ll take the soup and sandwich,” Remy said. “Iced tea, too, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He looked at Alex. “And you, sir?”

“I’ll have the same. Thanks,” Alex replied.

“Of course. I’ll get that in for you.”

As he walked away, Alex turned to Remy. “I miss working with you. You know that, right?”

She smiled. “I do. And I miss working with you too.”

“I can see you’re unhappy with your limited responsibilities,” he continued. “I’m sorry about that. But I have to listen to what your doctor recommended.” Alex hesitated a moment. “Is that why you want to jump in on this Galloway situation?”

Remy was forced to evaluate her real reason for wanting this. Was it just for Billy, or was Alex right, and she wanted more? “I can’t deny that’s part of the equation. You know I’ve never been one to sit back and let things happen. And I have to prove to myself and everyone else that my injury doesn’t define me. That I will return to my old self. But ultimately, this is about Billy and Claire and making sure they don’t end up in the middle of something they know nothing about. They’re frightened. I have no choice.”

Alex didn’t respond right away, seemingly allowing Remy’s words to settle around him. “I don’t think anyone on our team believes you’re any less capable, regardless of that cane you use. I just need you to see that you do have some limitations — for now. I don’t want you to make a decision based on anything other than that.”

“So much of why I’m even here right now was a lie,” she added.

“You said you’d forgiven Hubert for what he did.”

Remy sighed and looked away, her fingers tracing the wood grain on the oak table. “I guess I can only take it one step at a time.”

Alex reached across the table to take her hand. “I’m here for you, Remy. No matter what happens, I’ll be here.”

Remy smiled gratefully at him. “Never a doubt in my mind.” She took another sip of her tea before taking a bite of her sandwich that had just arrived. So, what do we do now?”

* * *

Cole Grayson was determined to help Remy in any way possible. He was in love with her, even though she struggled to know what that truly meant. Now, he prepared to pay a visit to Billy Dupre, who agreed to meet with him this afternoon.

A sports bar was the chosen meeting place, and Cole had just arrived. He walked inside to the sound of eighties pop music and the sight of multiple television screens mounted on the walls, broadcasting baseball spring training games. Packed with a lunchtime crowd, he searched for Billy Dupre. And when he spotted him, he made his approach. “Billy.”

“Cole, hi.” Billy offered his hand as he remained seated.

Cole accepted the greeting before slipping into the booth. “Thanks for taking the time to meet with me. I know you must have a full plate right now.”

“It does seem like there are a lot of moving parts,” Billy replied. “Can I get you a beer?” He raised his own glass.

“I’d love to, but I’ll be heading back to the office after this. Listen, I know Remy’s been all over this, trying to help Detective Gauthier investigate what happened to your client. But after Bodin’s visit to you, I think it’s time I understand the situation more fully.”

“I’ll tell you pretty much what I told Remy. Galloway was the Bodins’ accountant,” Billy said. “He got hit in a car accident and came to my law firm for help. Of course, I didn’t know he was associated with them at the time.”

“Why would a guy with ties to a crime family risk a court trial over an accident? The exposure to him and his history would be too great. There has to be more to it than that.”

“There is,” Billy replied. “I don’t know how much Remy’s told you, if anything, but it turns out Bodin knew my father. Peter Galloway did too. That’s where things start getting scary.”

“Sounds like maybe Galloway came to you for more than representation, then,” Cole replied. “But he never mentioned your dad to you?”

“Only in passing, as though they’d been hardly acquainted. It might’ve been his intention to elaborate, but he never got the chance.” Billy tossed back a swig of his beer.

“Who else knew about Galloway and your dad? Anyone you can think of?” Cole asked.

Billy shrugged. “Former associates, maybe. I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

Cole sipped on a glass of water. “Like you said, Galloway came to you for a reason. I’ll help you find out what that was.”

* * *

Word came down from Alex that the director had agreed to let FAU assist in the Lafayette PD investigation into both murders, knowing they could involve the powerful Bodin family.

Remy headed back to Lafayette to meet with the detective and deliver the news. However, her limitations came to the forefront as she arrived at the police station to meet with Gauthier. She stopped outside the entrance and caught her breath. In the afternoon sun, the warm air felt stifling. Her legs grew stiff, unwilling to move on her command. This was something her doctor had warned her about. Setbacks were far from over.

Firming her resolve, Remy walked into the station. She fought back the pain and pressed on toward the detective’s bullpen. She spotted Gauthier at his desk and made her approach, doing her best to hide the discomfort.

“Fontaine, thanks for making the drive — again.” Gauthier knitted his brow for a moment as if he saw the pain behind her eyes. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Remy sat down on the chair beside his desk. Relief swept through her lower half as she took the weight from her legs. “We’re a go with the joint effort.”

Gauthier smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yep. I got the approval and headed straight over. I think the director was excited by the possibility of being part of the operation meant to take down the Bodins. So, here’s where I think we should go next.”

“I’m all ears.” Gauthier sat back in his chair.

“I think Galloway was preparing to go public with what he knew about the family,” Remy continued. “This whole thing about going to my brother-in-law for help on an accident injury case had to be a ruse to get his foot in the door. Also, to keep his face out there in public, hoping to use it as insurance from retribution. He already knew Billy’s father, and I think he may have believed Billy could offer information.”

“Information about what, though?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet. Billy doesn’t know either,” she replied.

Gauthier nodded. “I obtained security footage from the ATM across the street where Galloway was shot. Nothing on his son’s murder from DOT cameras. So, this is where we’ll start.”

“Show me what you found,” Remy said.

Gauthier loaded the files and turned his laptop toward her. “This is your brother-in-law’s office, right?”

“That’s it.”

“Okay. In a second, you’ll see Galloway emerge from that office and head down the street.” He pressed play.

Remy watched the video. The ATM footage was in black and white, and the images were small from that distance, but she could just make out Galloway on the sidewalk. She watched as a dark sedan pulled up beside him. “Tell me you’re running a BOLO on that vehicle.”

“Already done. Keep watching,” Gauthier said.

Remy kept her eyes glued to the screen. The passenger window of the sedan rolled down, and she spotted the gun. “I can’t see who’s inside.”

“I know but hang on. Watch Galloway’s face.”

She continued studying the video. Galloway noticed the car and looked as though he recognized the driver. “He’s walking toward it.”

“Yep.”

Galloway carried on with a smile until he spotted the gun. He quickly spun around, and the shot rang out.

“Damn it,” Remy said. “He knew the shooter.”

Gauthier pursed his lips. “Not only did he know the shooter, but he was also happy to see the shooter until he whipped out a gun.”

Remy noticed Galloway mouth some words. “What’s he saying?”

“Audio is unclear. The ATM is across the street. It’s too far away to pick it up. But here’s what I think.” Gauthier paused the video and zoomed in on Galloway. “He’s raising his hand to stop the guy. Fruitless effort. But more importantly, he’s mouthing to him ‘no.’” He continued the video in a frame-by-frame manner.

Remy watched Galloway’s lips. “Play that part again.”

“You got it.” He reversed the video and pressed play in slow motion again.

Remy narrowed her gaze. “Is he saying . . .” She wanted to be sure she was right. “Is he saying Quinten?” She looked at Gauthier. “As in Quinten Bodin?”

He pulled back, and a smile drew upon his lips. “That was my thought.”

Remy eyed the screen once again, folding her arms. “All right. We’re going after Sal Bodin’s eldest son. Piece of cake.”

Chapter 10

Quinten Bodin was poised to take over the family business in the coming years, sooner if he had his way. But when the former family accountant decided to engage accident lawyer Billy Dupre, he set in motion a series of events Quinten now had to fix.

Galloway’s wife was the only remaining family member. When Trent’s life was tragically cut short, Quinten happened across a few documents inside the young man’s vehicle. An uncashed check made out to Bodin Enterprises and a contract proving a connection between Galloway and the Bodin family.

So, the question remained, why had that check never been handed over? And where was the rest of the money Galloway had stolen? The answers might be found inside the family’s home.

Peter Galloway’s home was in an upscale neighborhood. Tall hedgerows walled off many of the houses from the street. Iron gates blocked access to the individual driveways. As Quinten drove through the community, it became apparent the average accountant couldn’t afford such luxury. “Now I know what you did with the money you took.”

As he arrived at the home, Quinten parked just out of view of the entry gate. Casting his gaze up the long driveway, he didn’t spot any cars. Before setting off on this expedition, he’d called in a favor from the local police department. Mrs. Galloway had been summoned to the morgue to sign off on her son’s remains and belongings. She would be gone for a while.

Quinten surveyed the grounds for easy access and walked toward the brick column where one of the gates was attached. The brick extended into a wall, dropping to only about four feet as it enclosed the front yard. He hopped over the wall.

Inside the grounds, he searched for cameras. One was posted on the corner of the garage; another was at the front door. He smiled. “Probably should’ve put more cameras here, Pete.” His best shot at gaining entry was through the back door. Hard to say whether the widow, who’d also just lost her son, had bothered setting the alarm, assuming one existed. He was going to have to take his chances. If he didn’t come back to his father with something tangible, he might as well not come back at all.

As it turned out, the side exit door from the garage was unlocked. From there, Quinten accessed the home without resistance through another door leading into the kitchen. So far, no alarms activated.

The house was more extensive than it appeared from the outside, and Quinten realized this job could take longer than he’d expected. Plenty of light shone inside the home through open curtains and large windows. He started downstairs and searched for a home office. Through a long corridor, passing two bedrooms, he reached what appeared to be a den or office.

The room was dark, and the curtains were drawn, so Quinten flipped the light switch. He noticed a few filing cabinets on the left wall. A desk lay in front of him with a lamp and a few papers strewn on top. No computer in sight. Given what was found inside Trent’s car, Quinten assumed Trent Galloway had already rummaged through his father’s office. The son had to have known something, or why come to the Bodin home in the first place?

Still, time was running out, and Quinten needed more. His father expected him to find the money or at least a paper trail of where it might be. He walked to the metal filing cabinet and opened the top drawer. Flipping through files, he came across various pieces of information that looked to have been from past clients. Tax returns, receipts. He continued rummaging through each drawer, slamming the last one closed. “Damn it.” Quinten laced his fingers on his head and looked around the room. “Where is everything, you son of a bitch?” His gaze landed on a door. Walk-in closet? Maybe. He started toward it and turned the handle. Inside were shelves stacked with bankers’ boxes. “Holy shit. There has to be something in here.” Quinten yanked off several of the lids and worked quickly to find anything tying his family to Galloway or his partner, Jackson Dupre. “Come on. Come on.” His pulse quickened as he realized the widow would be back at any moment. And as he came upon another box, he noticed it was the only one missing a label. Nothing had been written on it. “This has to be it.”

After another quick search and about halfway through, he found something. Quinten retrieved two manilla file folders, each one containing bank statements. “Oh my God. This is it.” He shot up, fearing he’d heard a noise. “Fuck.”

Quinten straightened the boxes and replaced the lids in a flurry of activity. He walked out of the closet and turned off the light. He stopped for a moment, waiting for another sound, but none came. When he reached the door leading into the hallway, he peeked out, craning his neck left then right.

In a mad dash, Quinten returned to the kitchen, went through the garage door, and back out into the rear yard. He hustled around to the front and climbed back over the low brick wall.

He stopped and looked back at the driveway. “No one’s here, you idiot. Doesn’t matter.” Quinten hurried back to his car and tossed the files onto the passenger seat before turning the engine. “I got what I came for.”

* * *

Kevin Ketner’s law enforcement background rivaled anyone in the office, which made it all the more difficult when it came to his criticism of Remy. Like most in his profession, having the backs of colleagues was a significant part of the job, so as he walked into Alex’s office, he had to decide to either take this on the chin or speak out. “Hey, Alex, I’m running out of leads on this guy. He’s a ghost.”

Alex glanced up at him. “Come in. Take a seat.” He waited a moment while Ketner sat down. “Are you stretched too thin, considering . . .”

“Considering I’m operating solo?” He leaned back in the chair, his tattooed forearm now exposed below the rolled-up sleeves of his dress shirt. “Look, I get Remy’s got a family thing going. And what she’s suffered over the past six months . . . But Alex, if she’s not going to be part of the team, what’s the point?” He raised his hands in surrender. “I know I sound like an asshole, but for God’s sake, she brought Hubert in this morning. Hubert. After what went down between you two, she brings him in?”

“Remy wasn’t here for that,” Alex said. “But Hubert was sincere in his apology.”

“Screw his apology, Alex. The guy lied. He lied to all of us. Brought in a state trooper to be an FAU agent, and all she’s done since is deal with DeChamp.”

Alex’s face appeared heated. “That’s not all, and you know it. Unless you’ve forgotten that Remy saved your life last year.”

Ketner relented. “Don’t misunderstand me. I won’t forget what she did. But if she’s going to be here, then she needs to be here.”

“This has been a tough transition for all of us. Including me.” Alex surveyed his desk. “Here I am, sitting at Hubert’s desk, thinking I’m running things now.”

“You are running things,” he said. “And I’m good with that. So are the rest of the guys. We all know you’re the senior agent, and this job was yours for the taking. So run it, Alex. If you can’t bring Remy back into the fold, then you have to cut her loose.” Ketner stood and prepared to leave. “I’m sorry about all she’s been through. I really am. But those things should’ve been brought to the surface a long time ago. This isn’t some therapy center where people go to face their demons.”

“Hey, Kev. Wait,” Alex said. “What are your plans to find Maffei?”

Ketner turned around and considered his next steps. “I’m going to follow up with State Police on DOT cameras around the areas of the accidents — something Remy said she would do. Then, I’m driving out to see one of Maffei’s brothers.”

“You tracked down a family member?” Alex asked.

“Yeah.” Ketner shrugged. “He doesn’t seem to care much for his brother, so there could be something there.”

He headed back into the hall and toward his desk. Celia Figaro and Pete Milner stood nearby. “Where’s Elliot?” he asked.

“He didn’t want to be part of this,” Figaro replied. “I’m not sure I want to be either, but I’m here to listen.” She was the only other female FAU agent on the team and had only worked briefly with Remy.

Milner folded his arms. “Maybe this is a step too far, Kev.”

Ketner noted the look on their faces — guilt. “Yeah, I’m not feeling great about it either. But we all know what Remy’s like. If Alex doesn’t give her an out, she’ll never leave on her own. They’re too close, and that’s part of the problem. I know I’m not the only one who sees that she doesn’t want to be here. It’s not just that so much as the fact she can’t be who she once was as an agent, and I think it’ll crush her over time.” Ketner looked away for a moment. “As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think we can keep her happy here. She should get the opportunity to put her talents to better use.”

“So, what, we essentially box her out?” Figaro frowned. “Make her even more miserable? There has to be a better way.”

“No, that’s not what I want,” Ketner replied. “Look, I can’t give her work outside the office. Alex’s orders. Not mine. And every case she’s on, whether it’s with me, you, Celia, or you, Pete. She’ll never be happy on desk duty.”

“She will recover eventually,” Milner shot back. “Why don’t we do her a solid and have her back until she does?”

“Because there’s no guarantee she’ll return to her old self. And I saw the look on her face when I told her I had to go out on my own and she had to play desk jockey. Then she goes and gets tangled up in something with Deputy Marshal Grayson? Even if it’s a family thing, it’s the first move she makes.”

“So, you think the Marshals is a better place for her?” Figaro asked.

Ketner eyed her. “Yeah, I do. All I have to do is plant the seed that I’m certain already exists. Alex won’t do it. Not a chance. I want what’s best for Remy, just like you guys. I think this is it.”

* * *

Quinten Bodin returned to his home in downtown Lafayette. The single man had no trouble getting women, just keeping them. He lived a bachelor’s life and had come to a conclusion he would probably die that way. What did it matter in any case? All he’d wanted was to make his father proud and for him to hand over the reins.

It was time to learn more about these files found in Galloway’s home. They were open, sprawled out on his coffee table inside his penthouse apartment. Picture windows overlooked the city’s skyline. Ultra-modern décor and furnishings lay sparsely throughout the loft-style apartment.

Quinten took a seat on his plush charcoal gray sofa and pulled the glass coffee table toward him. He examined the files. Galloway had been partnered with Dupre only after he lost his license to practice. The man died a few years later, leading up to the resignation of Galloway as the family’s accountant. At the time, no one suspected anything. In fact, Galloway had left on good terms, until a few months later when his dad had hired some numbers guy who uncovered a three-million-dollar shortfall in Bodin Enterprises.

They’d begun tracking Galloway’s movements, assessing whether he was the thief, though it seemed pretty clear he was. But Galloway had ventured into dangerous territory, going to see Dupre’s son and then filing a lawsuit that would undoubtedly shine a light on the family in some form or another. The car accident had been Quinten’s idea, but he hadn’t expected Galloway to survive. If that had gone to plan, none of them would be in this situation now, having killed two Galloways and getting Dupre’s son involved.

The bank statements were associated with three different Panamanian banks. Quinten grabbed the uncashed check for ten grand written out to Bodin Enterprises and noticed it had been drawn against one of these banks. He utilized at least one of them for his part in the family operations, which meant he could make some calls and determine if the money was still there and how to access it.

But another question came to the forefront. It occurred to him Galloway went to Dupre’s son for a reason. He examined one of the statements in his hand. “You were prepared to tell his kid where all the money was because you knew we were coming for you.”

* * *

Remy was heading back to the FAU offices to get Alex up to speed on the investigation when a call came through. She noticed the ID and answered from the steering wheel of her 4Runner. “Cole, I was just on my way back to the office. What’s going on?”

“I need to see you,” he replied.

“Why don’t you meet me there, and you, me, and Alex can catch up on where things stand at the moment? I was just with Detective Gauthier. He recovered ATM footage of the shooting of Galloway. Get this, it looked like he knew his shooter.”

“There’s more to this than you know, Remy,” Cole cut in.”

“Okay, feel free to let me in on it then.”

“How far away are you from your office?” he asked.

“About five minutes.”

“All right. I’ll meet you there. If LBI is part of this deal now, then Alex will want to be briefed. I’ll see you in about twenty.”

When he ended the call, Remy grew concerned. She thought she had a slam dunk when it came to knowing who the shooter was, but now, Cole seemed to have learned more.

She pulled into the parking garage and stepped out, locking her door behind her. Remy rode the elevator up to the FAU office and entered the bullpen. The situation with Ketner hadn’t yet been resolved, and it was at the top of her mind now as he appeared only steps away.

“Remy, you’re back,” he said.

“I am. I have a meeting with Alex in a few minutes.”

“Okay, so listen, do you think we could talk for a moment before you do that?” Ketner asked.

“Sure.” She followed him to his desk. “Have you had any luck tracking down Maffei?”

“No, actually. Everything’s been sort of a dead end for me, unfortunately. I’m still working on it, though.”

“Good. Glad to hear it.” She reached his desk and leaned against it.

“Do you want to sit down?” he asked as she clutched the back of his desk chair.

“No, I’m okay. What did you want to talk about, Kevin?”

He took a seat. “I’m sure this must sound out of the blue, but I’m curious whether you’re happy here, Remy. I know you’ve only been back for a few days, but this situation with your family — it’s taken you away from your work here.”

“I know it has. And I’m sorry about that. But LBI just got authorization to work with Lafayette PD on their double homicide. It has ties to the Bodin family.”

“Does it involve your brother-in-law?” Ketner pressed on.

“It’s a theory we’re exploring, but so far, yeah, it looks like it.”

“And when you say ‘we’?” he asked.

“Grayson, me, and Gauthier.” She tilted her head. “What’s this really about, Kevin?”

Alex arrived at Ketner’s workstation. “Remy, you’re here. Are you ready to sit down?” He eyed Ketner.

Remy frowned at the unusual exchange between the two. “Grayson wants to sit in on it. He called me on the way over and has some new information. He should be here in a few minutes.”

“Okay, well, how about the two of us sit down until he gets here?” Alex asked.

She glanced at Ketner and turned back to Alex. “Yeah, okay.” Remy followed him back to his office, and Alex closed the door behind him.

“Take a seat, Remy.”

“What’s going on now?” she asked.

“I know this case is part of our deal now, and as a result, that puts you in the driver’s seat. A place only days ago your doctor suggested you weren’t ready for.”

“We’ve been over this already.”

“We have, but I need to know where you stand at the end of the day.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I need to know if you’ll be happy continuing on here. Because the way I see it, I’m not sure you will be.”

“What?” She knitted her brow. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Alex looked down a moment before seeming to regain his nerve. “Remy, you know I love you like a sister, but you gotta be straight with me. Our team. Our people. They all want you here. But the question is, do you want to be here?”

A knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” Alex called out, leaving the question hanging in the air.

Cole Grayson walked in. “Alex, good to see you. Remy.” He nodded. “Remy said you two were discussing the Galloway investigation.”

“Yes, we were just about to get into that,” Remy replied. “Sit down.”

“Thanks.” Grayson pulled out a chair. “Here’s what I learned. I did a deep dive into Galloway and turned up some past references to former LLCs no longer in business. Those LLCs appeared to be fronts for overseas companies.”

“Shell companies,” Remy added.

“Right. And as I peeled back the layers, I uncovered a name.” He hesitated. “Jackson Dupre.”

Remy shot a glance at Alex and then returned to Cole. “Billy’s dad?”

“What did these overseas companies do?” Alex asked.

“In a nutshell?” Cole continued. “They helped the Bodin family launder money, from what I could tell. Thing is, the LLCs were incorporated overseas, but I was able to see their corporate filings.” He paused a moment. “Millions of dollars were exchanged through these companies.”

Remy heard the words but struggled to comprehend them. “Wait, so Jackson Dupre was directly engaged with the Bodin family, not just as an attorney?”

Cole nodded. “Which could explain why Galloway engaged Billy as his accident injury lawyer.” He drew in a deep breath. “Remy, it’s entirely possible that Galloway intended to tell Billy all about his father. And the money.”

“I’m not aware of Billy’s family being wealthy. I knew they were comfortable, but this kind of money?” Remy regarded him. “I guess we go to Billy and find out what else he knows about his dad.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Alex asked. “You wanted our department involved, so here we are.”

Remy nodded. “Let me find out what Billy knows. That could help. For now, Alex, you just keep things going here. This is your department.”

Alex eyed Cole a moment before setting his sights on Remy. “I thought that included you.”

“Cole, could you give us a moment?” she asked.

“Of course.” He walked out of Alex’s office.

“I can see we need to finish our conversation,” Remy said.

“With what Cole just said, this definitely involves Billy in some form,” Alex began. “And what I asked a few minutes ago . . . Remy, our team needs you. I assigned you a case, and Kevin’s picked up the slack on it. I get it, really. This is your family, and I know it’s important to you. But what happens when all this is over?” He raised his hands. “I’m just saying that it’s starting to feel like you don’t want to be here or be part of this team anymore.”

“I fought to come back,” she cut in.

“Did you?” He tilted his head. “Or did you want to come back because it was better than sitting at home?” Alex sighed. “Look, I understand this situation with Billy is serious. I see that. But when this is done. When all this stuff with the Bodins is over, I’m going to need you to decide where you want to be, okay?”

She lowered her gaze and closed her eyes. “Okay. Okay, Alex. I will.”

Chapter 11

When Remy called regarding Billy’s father’s business activities, he realized he didn’t know much. But her concern that Galloway had engaged Billy’s services as a way to relay important information about Jackson Dupre set him on a mission. He and his father were never close, but now he wondered whether his father had kept him at arm’s length for his own safety.

It became clear to Billy that his father’s business papers were the key to discovering more about the connection to Galloway and the LLCs that Remy mentioned. The only place he could think of was his mother’s house on the edge of town. So that was where he was heading now.

The sun was low in the sky, almost below the horizon. Billy navigated through familiar neighborhoods filled with memories. When he arrived at his mother’s house, he noticed the outside appeared neglected. Paint had chipped in places. Dirt was caked on the siding. Under the roofline of the porch where he stood, it appeared rotted. She had the money to hire help, so Billy, the only son, had never bothered to see to it she took care of things or, better yet, that he took care of them for her. Maybe he was more like his father than he’d thought.

When she opened the front door, he smiled. “Hi, Mom.”

“Son. Is everything okay?” She stood in the doorway in a soft pink cardigan over Bermuda shorts. Her shoulder-length wavy hair was slightly tousled, as though she’d just awakened from a nap, and her hazel eyes crinkled with concern.

“I need to look for something of Dad’s. Is that okay?” He stepped inside as she closed the door.

“Well, of course. This is still your home, and you’re welcome whenever you wish.”

It was an older home, though grand in style. Dark stained wood spindles on the staircase. A large chandelier hanging from the foyer. Walls painted in muted yellows with framed photos of the family hanging on the walls. The furniture appeared slightly worn, slightly outdated, and the windows were draped in light blue curtains that let in plenty of natural light.

“I’d like to take a look inside Dad’s office, if that’s okay?” Billy asked.

“Oh, honey, his office hasn’t been touched in years. What do you think you might find?”

He hesitated, fearful of what his mother might think, and he didn’t want to worry her. “I’d like to find out more about his business dealings, you know, after he left the law practice. You haven’t removed any papers from his office, have you?”

“I’m afraid not. Everything should be much as he left it.” She looked away. “I should’ve cleaned it out years ago.”

Billy reached for her shoulder. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m the one who should’ve done that for you. I’m sorry.”

He walked down the hall and entered his dad’s office. Dust covered every surface. The room was cramped thanks to an oversized desk, several filing cabinets, and large bookcases. But the desk was cleared. Nothing on it except for a lamp.

He searched the filing cabinets first, assuming that would be the best place. And as it turned out, his search was over moments after it began. If this was some deep dark family secret, his father hadn’t hidden it well. Maybe he never expected his son to notice or his wife to care. He had been right on both counts.

Billy opened a file with a logo on the front. Galloway & Dupre. He pulled out the thick folders and quickly flipped through them. “I’d better take these home.”

Billy returned to the living room, where his mother sat on her favorite chair and watched her favorite game show. “Hey, Mom, I think I got what I needed, so I’m going to go back home.”

She looked at him with concern. “Stay for dinner, why don’t you? I’m sure Claire will understand.”

“Thanks, Mom, but I should be going.” He couldn’t recall ever feeling as guilty as he did at this moment. “I’ll come back soon and bring Claire and Isaiah. You haven’t seen him in months. He’s gotten so big.” He headed toward the front door but stopped and turned back. “Hey, Mom, can I ask you something?”

She turned around in her chair to face him.

“Did Dad ever talk about someone named Peter Galloway?”

“I’m sorry, who’s that now?” she asked.

He raised his hand. “No one, Mom. I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

* * *

Alex’s words haunted Remy. In the wake of what was going on with Billy, it was no wonder he questioned her loyalty and commitment to the job. She had questioned it herself over the past six months. She’d been used by Hubert, even if it had helped bring an end to a monster.

It forced her to question everything now. Where she belonged. What had become of her life, and what would become of it after a full recovery. Something to which she was close but hadn’t yet achieved. Her aching body was a testament to that right now.

Remy arrived home and changed into shorts. She sat on the sofa inside her small apartment and examined her legs. She elevated them onto the coffee table, placing a pillow underneath her feet. They appeared swollen, her skin tight. It had been a tough day in more ways than one. She was exhausted. Maybe Alex was right — all of this was too much, too soon. But it wasn’t about her anymore. It wasn’t about DeChamp, who’d consumed so much of her energy these past years. This was about keeping Billy safe.

And now, sitting here, alone with her thoughts, guilt rested on her shoulders. She owed Alex so much more than he knew. He’d helped her get past the loss of Max. He’d helped her to see she could do the job as well, maybe better, than anyone in that office. But why did she now feel like such an outsider?

Her phone rang on her table, and she picked up. “Billy, are you okay?” She raked her hand through her long ash-blond hair, waiting for an answer.

“I’m fine. I need to see you, Remy. Like right now.”

She carefully lifted her legs from the coffee table. “Yeah, okay. Where?”

A knock sounded on her door. “I’m outside your apartment.”

Relief swept through her as she slowly stood from the couch. “I’m coming.” She hung up the phone and walked unaided to the door, pulling it open. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He wore a sheepish grin. “I think I’m getting in over my head. I need your help.”

“Get in here.” Remy closed the door behind him.

He continued inside and set down the files on her dining table. “I drove to my mom’s house earlier. A bunch of my dad’s business papers were in his office. I had to know what he’d done with Galloway.”

Remy moved toward him. “What did you find?”

“I haven’t gone through all this stuff yet. I came straight here,” he continued. “I was hoping you could help me make some sense out of this.”

“Of course I can,” she replied.

Billy flipped through the files and pulled out an accounting reconciliation form. “This right here.” He pointed his index finger at it. “This shows that my dad and Peter Galloway were clearly skimming money from their clients.” He retrieved another report. “And this here is a record of deposits into an offshore account, before offshore accounts were under the scrutiny they are today, I assume.”

“Clients like who? The Bodins?”

He lifted his brow. “I have no idea. There are only account numbers here, but from what you said, it sounds like Galloway had the Bodins as clients. So, maybe when Dad was partners with him, they did too.”

“Where’s the money now, Billy?” Remy asked.

“That’s where I’m not so sure. The paper trail is tough to follow. I’m going to need help figuring out where it went.”

“Do you think this was why Salvatore Bodin came to see you?”

“What other reason could there be? He mentioned my dad, but I don’t think even he knew everything. That’s what I’m terrified of now. I don’t think these guys have any idea where that money went now that Galloway is dead.” He held her gaze. “If they figure out that I might know, am I gonna be next?”

* * *

Cole Grayson arrived at the home of Claire and Billy Dupre at the unearthly hour of three a.m. He stepped out of his Chevy Tahoe and approached the door. He knocked gently, and the door slowly opened, revealing a nervous sister. “Claire, are you and Isaiah ready to go?”

“We’re ready.” She left the door open for him.

Cole walked inside. Isaiah was holding onto a blanket, still wearing his pajamas. “Hey, buddy.”

He clutched onto his mother’s leg.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Cole is here to help us. We’re going for a little ride like we talked about. Let’s get your suitcase. It’s time to go.”

As a Deputy US Marshal, Cole was used to this. He’d stood in a doorway just like this, in a home just like this, a thousand times. Taking families away from everything they knew to keep them safe. And each time was just as hard as the last. He set his eyes on Claire, who returned with their bags.

“You ready?”

“We’re ready.”

He gestured for them to go out ahead of him, and stepped outside, closing the door. “Claire?”

She turned around. Her short hair was the same color as Remy’s, fluttering in the light warm breeze. “Yes?”

“Why don’t you go ahead and lock up?”

“Oh, right.”

She walked by him, looking defeated and broken. He hadn’t spent much time with the Dupres, but the time he had spent was always filled with laughter and joy. Claire displayed none of this now and probably wouldn’t for the foreseeable future.

He joined them at his big gray Tahoe and climbed behind the wheel. Glancing over his shoulder, he eyed young Isaiah. “All buckled in, bud?”

The boy nodded.

Claire lay her hand on his thigh. “It’ll be okay, son. Try to close your eyes and get some rest.” She turned back to Cole. “How long is the drive?”

“About an hour. Remy and Billy will be there waiting.”

“How is he?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the darkened road.

“I haven’t seen him, actually. Remy called after she spoke to you.”

She glanced over at him. “And you came running.”

A half-smile crossed his lips. “It’s my job.”

“It’s more than that, though, isn’t it?”

Cole was quiet for a few moments as the sound of the tires on the asphalt filled the cabin. No cars were ahead. No cars behind. And he’d taken extra care going a particular route to ensure they weren’t being followed.

He unleashed a heavy sigh. “It might be more than that, but I have a feeling I’m the only one who thinks so.”

Claire aimed her gaze at the road ahead. “I know my sister pushes people away. She has since college when . . .” She trailed off. “Remy’s had a hard life, Cole. I marvel at her ability to wake up every day and do a job that puts her in harm’s way and serves as a constant reminder of her past.”

She turned to him. “But this thing that happened to her . . . the thing that hurt her.” She glanced back at Isaiah, appearing to carefully choose her words. “It has set her back to a place I think she struggles to escape.”

“Do you think she was ready to go back to work?” Cole asked.

Claire chuckled. “It doesn’t matter what I think. Remy has and will always do what she wants, no matter who gets in her way. And I hate to say this to you, Cole, because, honestly, you seem like a really good guy. But it’s best you put aside whatever feelings you have for my sister, at least for a while. She’s just not ready to let go of Kyle. He’s long gone now, and yet he still lives in her head. Her injury will serve as a reminder of him. Always.”

Chapter 12

The small cottage lay in a rural area south of Lafayette and west of Baton Rouge. The smell of damp earth and fresh grass lingered in the air. The wetness from the early morning and the nearby marsh carried a hint of salt, fish, and seaweed in the air.

Remy peered through the window when she spotted headlights. “They’re here.”

When the headlights turned off, and she’d watched Cole step out from the driver’s side, Remy walked to the door and opened it. Once again, this man she’d all but tossed aside had come through for her. At some point, though, he would tire of her antics, and she would lose him altogether. Claire approached, appearing exhausted and afraid.

“Is he inside?” she asked.

Remy nodded and stepped back.

Seeing Billy, Claire threw her arms around him, sobbing into his chest.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered.

As Cole trailed in, he closed the door behind the young family and stepped closer to Remy. “She’s angry.”

“I’m sure.” She set her eyes on him. “Thank you, Cole, for setting this up. For picking them up. Thank you.”

“Like I told your sister, it’s part of my job,” he replied.

Claire lowered her arms and thumped her fists against Billy’s chest, her tone low. “How could you keep this from me? You should’ve come to me first.”

Remy knew what was about to come, and she headed to Isaiah. “Hey, buddy. You want to see where you’ll be sleeping tonight?”

With tired eyes, he nodded.

“Then follow me.” She looked back at Cole. He picked up on her cue and trailed them.

Remy walked into a bedroom down the hall and flipped on the light switch. Inside the small room were two twin beds with solid blue bedspreads covering them. Each bed had a dark wooden headboard with a scalloped top. A side table sat between them with a lamp and a clock radio on it. “So, what do you think?”

The sound of slightly raised voices carried into the room. She nodded for Cole to close the door and turned back to Isaiah. “It’s kinda cool in here, right?”

The boy shrugged. “I want to sleep in my own bed.”

Remy lifted him gently and set him down on the edge of the bed. She took a seat next to him. “You know what? I don’t blame you. I like sleeping in my own bed too. So how about this? How about we think of this like you’re on vacation? Like this is going to be a fun adventure, and when morning comes, you can explore all around here.” She stroked his dark brown hair in need of a cut. “What do you think? That could be cool, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he replied.

“Are you hungry? I bet they have some snacks for you,” Remy said.

“No. Mommy wouldn’t want me to eat so late. She tells me it gives me nightmares. I don’t want nightmares in this place.”

“Okay then,” Remy said, hearing the voices in the living room had settled down. “Let’s go talk to your mom and see if she wants to get you tucked up in bed.”

“The sun will be up soon,” he replied.

Cole opened the door, and Isaiah ran out. “Mommy, did you see my room yet?”

Remy stepped toward Cole as he placed his hand on her back.

“You’re really good with him,” Cole said with a gentle smile.

“He means the world to me.” Remy carried on into the hall where Claire and Billy were on the couch holding hands. “Is it safe to enter?”

Claire grinned. “It’s safe.” She set her eyes on Cole. “What happens now? How long will we have to stay here? After what happened before when Kyle . . .” She glanced at Remy. “I mean, when Tim looked after us for a few days somewhere else.”

“I know,” Remy began. “I know how hard all this has been on you both and I’m sorry for that.”

“None of this is your fault, Remy,” Billy chimed in. “This is on me.”

“No,” Claire cut in. “This is on your father and whatever he did that put us in this situation.”

“Claire’s right,” Remy continued. “Cole and I will work together to find out what the Bodins know and what they plan to do with that knowledge.”

“This is a big case,” Cole added. “I have no doubt the Marshals will want a piece of it. So we’ll have plenty of resources between our two areas.”

“Alex is good with this?” Claire asked.

“He is,” Remy said.

“But you haven’t answered my question.” Claire held Remy’s gaze. “How long will we be here? My concern is for Isaiah.”

“I understand,” Remy began. “And right now, I don’t have an answer for you. What happens from here, I’m just not sure.”

“I’ve got two Marshals on their way here now. They’ll be stationed out front to keep you safe inside,” Cole said. “For tonight, you should do your best to get some sleep. The fridge is stocked. There’s coffee in the cabinet. Plenty of food and water. But if you find you need something, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“So, you’re just going to leave us here?” Claire asked.

“It’s the safest place for you,” Remy said. “I need you to trust me on this, okay?”

Claire closed her eyes a moment. “I trust you. Always.”

* * *

Quinten Bodin awakened to a knock on his bedroom door. Younger brother Vince walked inside. “What are you doing, man? It’s like . . .” He checked the time. “Oh.”

“Yeah, what the hell are you doing still asleep?” Vince asked. “Dad wants to see us ASAP. He’s at the office.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll get dressed.” Quinten threw off his covers and lowered his bare feet to the travertine floor. Once his brother had left, he stood in a long stretch, wearing only his boxers. His chest was lightly dusted with hair, and his arms were muscular and toned.

He stepped into the shower. The scent of sandalwood from his favorite body wash lingered in the air. After stepping out, he toweled off and changed into a suit.

With his laptop bag hanging over his shoulder, he walked out of the house. Vince waited for him in the driveway, and they drove off toward the office in Lafayette. The building was situated in the bustling downtown business district, a mix of steel, glass, and concrete. Inside, the walls were painted stark white and displayed modern furnishings and artwork.

“What’d Dad want?” Quinten asked as he sat in a chair inside his office and kicked his feet up on an ottoman.

“No idea,” Vince replied. “Doesn’t matter. He calls, we jump.”

Quinten opened the folder that was sitting in the center of the desk; the very one that contained information about the Galloway & Dupre business venture. “All I know is that these sons of bitches took our money. We got one of them, but no money was found.”

Vince glanced at the documents. “Who else knows about it?”

Sal Bodin entered the office. “I thought you were both coming to my office?”

Quinten lowered his feet and sat up at attention. “Sorry about that, Pop. I guess we got our wires crossed.”

Sal closed the door. “We’ve got ourselves a situation here. I’ve been told the LBI will be lending a helping hand to the Lafayette PD Detective Gauthier. I’ve also been made aware that they have in their possession ATM footage of Galloway’s murder.” He continued inside the luxurious office, setting his sights on Quinten. “It’s only a matter of time before they ID the shooter.”

“I already told you, Dad, it was necessary,” Quinten said. “The man was going to tell Dupre something about us. We couldn’t risk it.”

“And you think the situation we’re in now is somehow better?” Sal scoffed. “The Dupre kid came to you to confirm he knew nothing of his father’s business activities. So, he already suspected you had a hand in Galloway’s murder. And when I visited him, he still said nothing. Do you really think he’s aware of anything his thief of a father did?”

“Why else would Pete go to him?” Vince asked.

Sal shot him a look. “Because he was scared we’d get to him. And we did.”

* * *

Billy had handed over everything he had taken from his mother’s home to Remy. Now, as a new day arrived, she drove into LBI’s office. Alex needed to be briefed on what happened. Find out where the money went and bring them all down. The race to the finish line had begun.

She walked toward Alex’s office, bypassing Ketner and everyone else who watched her step out of the elevator. “Hey, can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” Alex eyed her. “This must be serious. What happened?”

She lowered herself onto the chair. “It’s a long story, but the abridged version is Billy found evidence his father and Galloway stole a fair sum of money from the Bodins. That’s why Galloway was killed, probably his son too. That’s why Billy was approached.”

Alex sighed and rubbed his hand on his slick black hair. “Are they safe? Claire and her family?”

“For now. Cole has them in a safe house. Claire’s beside herself with worry. Alex, I have to find this money so they’ll leave Billy alone. And if it brings to light the fact Quinten Bodin most likely murdered Galloway, then all the better to help bring down the entire damn family.”

He returned a steadfast gaze. “What do you need to do the job?”

“You,” she replied. “You’re the only one I trust. We set the trajectory. It’s no different from a fugitive. We start at the beginning. Find a way to ID Quinten Bodin as the shooter. Track down the money. Cole’s people can help too.”

“Cole?” Alex asked.

“If the Marshals have even the slightest chance to get in on the takedown of the Bodin family, that’s what they want to do. They can seize the assets, keep Claire and Billy safe. There’ll be some overlap, but we need all the help we can get. Problem is, how do we do all this without drawing the attention of Sal Bodin? If he gets a whiff we’re coming after his operation, he’ll find a way to retaliate.”

Alex nodded. “Let’s trace Galloway’s final days. He had to have done something to tip off the Bodins. And now we know the real reason why he went to Billy that day, claiming he needed an accident lawyer.”

“He figured Billy knew what his dad had done, or he was about to tell him,” Remy replied. “We know he shut down his accounting firm weeks before. Let’s get the story behind that first. We’ll check for any travel he may have scheduled. Find out whether he’d planned to flee. Track down any of his associates who can shed light on his mindset in those days leading up to the shooting.”

Alex pulled back his shoulders as he sat upright in his chair. “Any one of our team could do this with you. You should have more faith in them than that.”

“I do have faith in them. But you were the only one willing to risk his career and freedom to bring down DeChamp, even if he slipped through our fingers. Not one of them, not even Kevin would’ve done that for me, Alex.”

He sat in silence for a moment. “I’m in. If there’s money to be found, and a killer to put away, we’ll be the ones to do it.”

* * *

Salvatore Bodin hadn’t gotten to where he was by being careless. However, it seemed the same couldn’t be said about his sons, particularly his eldest. The drive-by shooting of Peter Galloway constituted a capital offense in the state of Louisiana, meaning the shooter was now a federal fugitive. And if Galloway’s final words rang true, then Quinten Bodin had just become a target for the US Marshals.

Cole searched the files of the Bodin family that the Marshals had already amassed. They’d been on the radar for years to no avail. Sal Bodin ran his operation out of New Orleans under the guise of logistics. The sons operated out of Lafayette and maintained a legal front. Everyone in law enforcement had waited for them to slip up, and it seemed, now, they had.

While this case would be a big win, Cole wanted to help Remy keep her family clear of this mess. His love for her hadn’t waned since the incident, yet she’d convinced herself she was better off without him and he without her. It was all bullshit, but he hadn’t persuaded her otherwise. But now, maybe he’d get another shot. He’d never worked so hard for the love of any woman, and none of this was fair. But life hadn’t been fair to Remy since she was a young woman. With her, he was willing to take the good with the bad.

Associate Director of Operations Warren Bautista knocked on Cole’s door before opening it. The tall, imposing figure with a shock of white hair and a neatly trimmed mustache set a firm gaze on Cole. “We need to talk.” He walked inside and closed the door.

Bautista didn’t visit the Deputy Marshals. Word usually came down from him through the investigative ops director and then to the deputies. So, if he was here now, standing before Cole, it wasn’t for a friendly chat.

Cole set down his files. “What can I do for you, sir?”

“I’ve just received some troubling information.” Bautista’s tone was measured and calculated. “Your last investigation involved the capture of fugitive Kyle DeChamp.”

“Yes, sir,” Cole replied with uncertainty in his voice.

“That fugitive was sent to Elayn Hunt Correctional, where he was murdered less than two weeks later. It has come to my attention via Deputy Director Ames that this murder could be tied to you, Grayson.” He raised his eyebrows. “Do you know anything about this?”

Cole felt his throat constrict. “No, I don’t know anything about this. I’d be interested to know who’s throwing my name out there. As you know, DeChamp had an arrangement with FBI Agent Adam Ducane, who has been tried and convicted of harboring a fugitive and attempted murder.”

Bautista nodded. “I’d have to look into that, but it is possible Ducane was looking to settle a score. However, now that your name is out there, the spotlight shines on you, Grayson, and this Marshals’ office. You worked with FAU Agent Remy Fontaine on that case. And we both know her personal vendetta against DeChamp. So, I’m going to ask you one time, Grayson. Tell me you had nothing to do with ordering a hit to get DeChamp killed.”

“Again, sir, I don’t know who has an agenda against me, but I had absolutely no knowledge of what would happen to DeChamp. I told Director Ames the same thing. I didn’t order it. I didn’t know about it. Period.”

Bautista didn’t appear moved by Cole’s resolve. “Then Ames told you about the ongoing inquiry. You’re one of the best I have, so you’d better be ready to defend your actions, whatever they might be.” He walked out of the office and disappeared into the corridor.

Cole picked up his phone and made a call. “Yeah, it’s Grayson. Hey, I could use a favor.”

“What’s up? I haven’t heard from you since . . .” the caller replied.

“I’d love to play catch-up,” Cole interjected. “But I’m out of time. I have a situation.”

“I’m listening.”

Cole peered through his office window into the hallway and noticed several colleagues traverse, busy with their own investigations and not paying him any attention. He had eight years invested here, and he wouldn’t be taken down by this — not a chance. “Erase the call logs. Whatever funds went into the account, I want removed as well.”

“You have any idea what you’re asking of me, man? I start doing that shit, you know how many red flags will be waving? And they’ll be waving at you, my friend.”

Cole felt heat rise under his collared shirt. “Someone in there is talking, so you either get them to shut the hell up, or I’ll do it for you.”

“Look, just calm down, all right? I said I’d take care of you ’cause I owed you. I’m not going back on that promise. Take a chill pill, and I’ll handle it, got it?”

“Call me when you’ve handled it, then.” Cole ended the call. “Fuck.”

Chapter 13

To be working side by side with Alex again left Remy at ease. However, the move was selfish, forcing her to question her motive. The rest of the team was left without their leader. Given how they currently felt about her return, this would only widen the rift between them. A team couldn’t function with that kind of fissure running through it. And she’d been the one to create it.

Their first stop was the Galloway office, and as Alex drove on, he pointed ahead to a building inside a strip mall. “That’s the most recent address of the Galloway offices. I checked with the building’s owner. Galloway was paid up through the end of this month.”

“His car accident, which I pulled the report for, happened about two weeks prior to his meeting with Billy.” Remy considered the implication. “The timing of all this leans to the notion that Galloway used the accident as a way to get in touch with Billy.”

“Absolutely. The guy needed an in, and that was how he did it.” Alex looked out over the parking lot. “That’s the building owner there. Let’s go talk to him.”

Remy carefully stepped out of Alex’s car and reached for her cane in the backseat. This felt so different from their first case together when they’d gone in to talk to that waitress, who was Salazar’s girl at the time. Remy recalled Alex’s irritation when she took it upon herself to approach the woman. Too bad it ended up costing the woman’s life. Maybe she should’ve listened to Alex.

“Remy, do you need a hand?” Alex asked.

“I’m fine. I’m coming now.” The past few days had seen Remy push herself harder than she had since the shooting. It had taken it out of her. But she couldn’t let Alex see it. He would insist she sit this out, as he had before, and that couldn’t happen.

She noticed a look of concern as he watched her approach. “I’m fine, Alex. Come on. We have work to do.”

He didn’t press further, and the two approached the man who stood at the building’s entrance. Alex outstretched his hand. “I’m FAU Agent Chasse. This is Agent Fontaine. I spoke with you earlier about the Galloway office.”

“Right.” The man opened the door. “Follow me.” He walked inside. “So, you say the man’s been killed?”

“He has,” Alex replied. “We’re investigating his death.”

“Has anyone else requested access to this office?” Remy asked. “Any of his staff or partners?”

“To my knowledge, Galloway didn’t have any partners. Any staff he had, he let go a while back. He’s been struggling to pay his bills. The only person who’s contacted me was his boy, Trent. Oh, and a Detective Gauthier.”

Remy was hesitant to mention the murder of Trent Galloway and glossed over his remark. “When did he move out?”

The man reached the door to the suite and inserted his key. “Oh, I’d say three, maybe four weeks ago. Got most everything out. I haven’t been able to rent it out again. Slow market.” He stepped aside. “Go on in. I don’t know what he left here but knock yourselves out.”

“Thanks.” Alex stepped inside. He looked back at Remy and offered his hand.

“I’m good.” She continued inside and turned to the man. “You want us to lock up when we’re done, or have you come back?”

“I’ll have to come back and close it up for you. Just give me five, ten minutes’ notice, would you?”

“Yes, sir,” Remy replied. “Thank you.” When she heard the main door close again, she eyed Alex. “Do you think he left anything here?”

The office had been abandoned. A desk remained along with a few empty bookshelves. The furniture had been removed, leaving only a few empty boxes and discarded paperwork in its place. No sign of computers or other office equipment.

“The only way this guy couldn’t have paid his bills, given we know he stole a lot of money, is if he spent his share and went after Billy to find out where his dad hid the rest of it. He had to know Jackson was long gone,” Alex said.

“I reviewed the files Billy found in his dad’s home office. Bank records showed multiple offshore accounts with Galloway’s and Dupre’s names on them,” Remy added. “So, he had access to the funds Jackson Dupre had as well, by the look of it.”

Alex frowned as though considering her theory. “Maybe he thought there was more somewhere else. That was why he went to Billy to find out. There must be a paper trail somewhere.” He set his hands on his hips. “Where would he have taken his office files?”

“Let me make a call.” Remy raised her phone to her ear. “Detective Gauthier, it’s Remy Fontaine. Yeah, hey, we’re at Galloway’s old office. It appears to have been cleared out. We’re wondering if you’ve searched his residence and found any business papers? Hang on, I’m going to put you on speaker.” She pressed the button. “I’m here with my boss, SAC Alex Chasse.”

Alex shot her a look, seemingly unprepared for her to say those words.

“Morning,” Gauthier replied. “Why didn’t you give me a heads-up that’s where you were headed? I should be there.”

“I’m sorry. It was all very last minute,” Remy said. “We do need to meet. We’ve had several developments over the past twenty-four hours you should be aware of.”

“When I spoke to the son before he was killed, he said he’d discovered an uncashed check and a signed contract with Bodin Enterprises.”

“Do you have them in your possession now?” Remy asked.

“No, I’m afraid not. It led me to consider a connection to the father, but then . . . the son was killed. Listen, let me contact the widow and see if she’ll let us take a look around. It could still be there,” Gauthier replied.

Remy looked at Alex, who nodded. “Yeah, let’s do that. We’ll check out around here, but I won’t hold my breath. Text me the address, and we’ll meet you there if she’s available in about an hour?”

“I’ll get back to you to confirm.”

Remy ended the call. “We have the files Jackson Dupre kept. Maybe Peter Galloway stored his files at his house.”

“Which brings up the possibility that Trent Galloway had discovered more information before he was killed.” Alex regarded her. “What if he had this contract and check in his car the night he was shot and whoever killed him took it?”

* * *

Alex pulled up to the home in the upscale neighborhood near the south side of Lafayette as midday arrived. Remy peered through the passenger window at the house. It had iron entry gates with a low brick wall around the front garden, a pitched roofline, and a side-entry double-car garage. A privacy hedgerow bordered its neighbors.

Alex stepped out of the driver’s side and walked to the passenger door to open it for Remy. He held out his hand. She examined it for a moment before surrendering to her need for assistance. Her pain had become nearly intolerable, but to take any pain meds would mean she couldn’t work, so she pushed through, doing her best to keep it from showing. “Thanks.”

She joined him on the sidewalk as the two carried on to the front porch. Three steps up and they stood under the overhang.

“I thought Gauthier would have beaten us here.” Alex knocked on the door.

Remy cast back her gaze and spotted a car heading their way. She focused in on the charcoal gray Dodge Durango SUV. “That’s him now.” The door opened and pulled her attention.

“Mrs. Galloway?” Alex asked.

“Yes.”

“Detective Gauthier contacted you about our arrival,” Alex continued. “He’s just pulling up now. We’re here about your husband. I am sorry for your loss. Your husband and son.”

“Thank you.” She peered out beyond them to see the detective stop behind her car. “Come in.”

Remy saw the woman’s eyes land on her cane as she stepped inside the entryway. Her look of pity grated on Remy’s nerves. “We appreciate you agreeing to see us, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Denise.”

“I’m FAU Agent Remy Fontaine.” She offered her hand. “You can call me Remy.”

Denise Galloway waited in the entry until Gauthier arrived. “Detective. Nice to see you.”

“I’m sure you’d rather not have to, but we appreciate it nonetheless.” Gauthier entered the home. “I see you’ve met the LBI agents. Fontaine and Chasse.”

“Yes. They only just arrived.”

“We’d like to take a look at the business files your husband stored here in the house,” Gauthier said. “It’s come to my attention that details concerning his activities could help with the investigation into his murder, and we’d like to see them.”

“All Peter’s business papers are in his office. Trent had a look before he was . . .” She carried on through the home.

Gauthier pointed to the door on the right. “Is this it, here, ma’am?”

“Yes, sir.” Denise opened it. “You’re free to look at whatever you like. I didn’t keep up with my husband’s business dealings. Trent didn’t either. In fact, I’m certain Peter kept all of us in the dark.”

Gauthier walked in. “We’ll do our best to hurry through and get out of your hair.”

“I’d prefer you take your time, Detective. Whatever my husband did got him killed, and my son. So, please, be as thorough as possible.” She walked away.

Alex and Remy stepped into the small office. “Did you find anything in Trent Galloway’s car on the night he was shot?” Alex asked.

“No. The responding officer found my business card in his wallet,” Gauthier replied. “Although, it’s entirely possible the boy decided to take matters into his own hands. There was no reason he should’ve been where he was that night.”

“Have you reviewed GPS information?” Remy asked.

“We did. He’d been at the Bodin compound in New Orleans but didn’t go inside.”

Remy looked away. “Jesus. And that wasn’t enough to arrest them?”

“Is that a serious question, Fontaine?” Gauthier asked.

“Okay, I think we’re getting off-track.” Alex stepped in between them. “We’re looking for banking information. There’s a chance Dupre didn’t tell Galloway about all the money, or Galloway was looking to get his hands on whatever Dupre had left, knowing the man was dead. That could be the reason Billy Dupre was targeted.”

“Got it,” Gauthier said. “We’ll sift through these files and see what turns up.”

* * *

Cole’s problems were only just beginning, and the price of erasing history could bankrupt him. He considered the possibility Ducane was the source of the leak. No one else gave a rat’s ass about DeChamp, not even his own people once he’d gone back inside. But Cole wasn’t going after a federal agent, even a disgraced, imprisoned former agent.

So, while he waited for his contact to make certain things disappear, he headed to New Orleans to take a peek at the Bodin operation. Until Gauthier obtained a warrant on Quinten Bodin, which was unlikely at the moment, they needed another approach — a way to get to the prominent family members.

It was no secret their shipping operations included drug trafficking, but no one had yet proved it. So, either the Bodins were incredibly smart and no one inside their organization ever slipped up or turned on them, or the New Orleans PD had their backs. And after what Cole had witnessed before with DeChamp? He was leaning hard toward the latter.

The journey, which was just over an hour, gave him an opportunity to plan his approach. He would stay low. Take a few pictures. Note where shipments came from. Delivery times. It was a recon mission more than anything, but with Remy, Alex, and Gauthier hunting down Galloway’s finances, it would be up to him to learn how far the Bodins would go to get back their money.

When he arrived, Cole parked several yards from the Bodin Enterprises’ docks. The industrial complex housed several docks, office buildings, and a couple of warehouses. Security cameras guarded every entrance and exit. Cole tugged on his ballcap to keep his face from view as he walked into the complex.

Workers unloaded pallets from shipping containers, several crates that appeared to be from all over the globe. His focus, however, was on shipments from China and South America.

A worker headed into one of the warehouses. This was his shot at getting inside and having a look around. He followed the grizzled, heavy-set man through an open bay door.

Forklifts traversed the warehouse, moving pallets from one location to the next, beeping as they reversed. Flagmen guided the machines down long aisles between tall metal shelves that held more shipments. The open area echoed and clanged as equipment and people moved around the facility. Cole made his way through the warehouse without anyone stopping him. This felt a little too easy; he was aware he’d better hurry and get what he came for, because with all the cameras inside, he would be noticed soon.

What he needed to find was a shipping manifest. He could take a picture of the shipper, their location, and the contents of the container. Identifying their shipping partners would open doors to their operation. That was what he needed, just a foot in the door, so he carried on in search of paperwork attached to any of the containers.

The place started to thin out a little and Cole checked the time. “Lunch.” Timing was everything and Cole felt like he had just hit the lottery. Soon, only a few people remained inside. He moved down one of the aisles, noting that the cameras were mostly around the exits and the main part of the warehouse. Still, he needed to move fast, and the first shrink-wrapped pallet he came upon had documents resting on top of it. Several papers were stapled together.

Cole grabbed his phone and took pictures. He then took more photos of other containers and their origins. That’s enough. I’m out of time. He started back toward the bay doors when a man in a suit called out to him.

“Sir?” The man hurried toward him with a raised hand. “Can I help you, sir?”

The exit was only steps away, but security would be abundant around the docks, and being chased back to his SUV wasn’t ideal.

“Sir?” the man called out again.

This time, Cole stopped and turned around. “Yes?”

The man in the suit reached him. “I’m afraid you aren’t allowed in here, sir. May I ask for your name?”

Cole looked around. “You know what? I don’t think this is the place I was looking for. I came for a job interview, but . . .”

“Who with?” the man asked.

“Mr. Renfield.” Sweat formed on the back of Cole’s neck.

“There is no Renfield who works here.” The man walked toward the bay doors and aimed a finger to his left. “You must be looking for Crescent Builders. They’re in the next warehouse over. I did hear they were hiring.”

Cole snapped his fingers. “You know what, I thought that was this place here. I apologize for the confusion. Thank you.”

“No problem. Have a good day.”

Cole walked beyond the doors and headed right in the direction of the next warehouse. His quickened pulse began to slow with the growing distance between them. It wasn’t until he reached the other building that he diverted and headed back to his Tahoe. Stepping inside, he pressed the ignition and drove away.

* * *

Sal Bodin was sitting behind his desk when the man in the suit entered. “Did you get his name?”

“No, sir. He said he was looking for someone named Renfield about a job. I pointed him toward Crescent Builders. You want me to check to see if he went in? I know those guys well enough; they’ll help us out.”

“He wasn’t looking for a job,” Sal replied. “He was taking pictures. No, he’s a fed. I can smell them from a mile away.”

“What should I do, sir?” the man asked.

“Nothing. I’ll handle it from here.” Sal picked up his phone. “But next time, get a goddam name, all right?”

“Yes, sir.”

When his employee was gone, Sal made the call. “What’s going out on tomorrow’s shipment?”

“Auto parts, construction materials, and a few other items,” the voice on the other end of the line reported.

Sal leaned back in his chair. “Send me the manifest. Make sure I have it on my desk first thing in the morning.”

Chapter 14

The pain in Remy’s legs was almost unbearable. She hunched over a desk peering at documents — her legs throbbed. Alex was inside the nearby closet and called out. “Hey, we have a bunch of boxes in here.”

She slowly stood and used the desk to guide her toward the closet. Gauthier watched but said nothing. Remy continued on with slow, deliberate steps to maintain her balance. The nerves in her legs felt like they were on fire. She reached Alex. “What’d you find?”

He picked up two boxes and set them in the middle of the room. “These are labeled Galloway–Dupre. I think this is it.” Alex walked back to the closet and moved out more boxes. “Gauthier, give me a hand, would you?”

“Sure.” He took one of the boxes from Alex and set it inside the room. “There’s a lot here. What are the chances Mrs. Galloway will let us take these?”

“If it means finding her husband and son’s killer,” Remy began, “I don’t think she’ll mind.”

“Hang on a second.” Alex examined the markings and opened the lids. “Wait. What the hell?”

Gauthier moved in toward him and peered at the boxes. “What is it?”

“Is it me, or does it look like some of these files are missing?” He pointed to one of the boxes. “Look at this. All of these are full, except this one here. And that one over there.”

“Someone’s been in these recently, I’d say,” Gauthier replied.

“Was it Trent Galloway?” Remy asked. A slightly dizzying sensation was building in her head. The room grew fuzzy, and her breathing felt labored. “I need some air.”

Alex took her by the arm as she swayed. “Are you okay? You look pale. I’ll get you outside.” He helped her to the door and glanced back at Gauthier. “I’ll let her get some air. Keep going.”

Gauthier narrowed his gaze at Remy. “Yeah, okay. No problem. I’ll keep at it.”

Remy spotted Denise Galloway, who looked at her with concern. She leaned into Alex’s ear. “Get me out of here.”

He smiled at the woman. “Just need some fresh air.”

“Of course,” Denise replied. “I should’ve opened the window in there. I’m sorry.”

Alex opened the front door and helped Remy over the raised threshold and onto the porch. Two Adirondack chairs were only steps away. “Do you want to sit?”

She nodded. “Please.”

He led her to the chairs. “These are a little low. You’ll be okay?”

“Fine.” Remy closed her eyes. “I just need to take the pressure off my legs.” She sat down on the wooden chair and let out a sigh of relief.

“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, Remy,” Alex said.

She raised her hand. “Please don’t lecture me right now. I just need a minute, okay?”

“Sorry.” He turned away to face the front garden.

She regretted her tone. “No, I’m sorry, Alex. You’re right. I have been pushing myself — I thought I was okay.”

He turned back to her. “There’s no shame in that, Remy. For God’s sake, look at what you’ve been through. No one thinks differently because you’re recovering from paralysis.”

At that moment, she felt her stomach drop. Her vision blurred. “Alex, I-I need . . .” She slumped over in the chair.

“Remy!” He rushed to her side. “Oh my God. Okay, we’re going to a hospital.” Alex opened the front door and called out. “Gauthier! Hey, I need some help out here!”

Denise Galloway hurried outside and peered at Remy. “I’ll call 911.”

Remy heard everyone’s panicked voices, but she didn’t have the strength to sit up or speak. Something was wrong.

* * *

Remy woke to find herself in a hospital bed, Dr. Girard peering down at her. She searched for her phone to check the time.

“It’s four in the afternoon,” the doctor replied. “Remy, do you know where you are?”

She surveyed the room. “In a hospital.”

“That’s right. Do you know why?”

“I felt lightheaded and dizzy when I was with my partner at a house. I drifted in and out on the way here.”

Dr. Girard pulled up a chair and sat bedside. “The doctors here called me, thanks to Mr. Chasse. I drove here to Lafayette General immediately.” She tilted her head. “Remy, we talked about what a setback might look like and how it might happen, right?”

She nodded.

“And you’ve since gone back to work. According to Mr. Chasse, you’ve been pushing yourself too hard by the look of things.”

“I’m fine now. I needed some air. I needed to sit—”

“Remy,” Girard held out a preemptive hand. “Your blood pressure dropped to dangerously low levels. That happened as a result of the nerves in your legs that were pinched from swelling. That swelling was caused by you being on your feet for hours at a time. Despite what you think, you are not one hundred percent healed. Full nerve regeneration is likely still months away. Yes, you’re walking, but there’s much more to it than that.”

Remy looked away. “I experienced mild discomfort and then it got a little worse.”

“I’d say so,” Girard added. “Did you feel pins and needles? Muscle weakness? Anything like that before you grew lightheaded?”

She nodded.

“Okay. Those are things that will continue to happen, which is exactly the reason why I asked you to keep to light duty in your job.”

“But . . .”

The doctor shook her head. “I know what your job is, and it doesn’t sound like light duty is going to work for you. But neither is this, Remy. If you’d been alone. If you’d been driving while this happened. Do you understand what that could’ve meant for you?”

Remy fixed her gaze on Girard. “Are you telling me I can’t work?”

The doctor tilted her head. “I can’t tell you what to do anymore, Remy. It’s unlikely you’d listen to me anyway. But if you don’t go back at this slowly, with caution, this will continue to happen. And you might not be so lucky next time.”

“When can I get out of here?” Remy glossed over the doctor’s words of warning.

“Your blood pressure has stabilized. All your bloodwork came back fine. So, you’re free to go.” The doctor stood. “Just do me a favor. Remember that, for the time being, you still have limitations. You can’t rush this process.”

After Dr. Girard left, Remy grabbed her phone to call Alex, but no sooner had she pressed his contact than he appeared in the doorway of her room.

He answered the call as he walked in. “Hey, there.”

Remy smiled and hung up, setting her phone on the rolling table over her bed. “Hey. Thanks for getting me here.”

“Well, you scared the shit out of me, that’s for sure.”

“Did you overhear the doctor?” she asked.

He cocked his head. “Some. She’s not very happy with you. I could tell that.”

“No, but she’s releasing me now, so we can get going again. How did Gauthier fare after we left?”

“He uncovered some financials that will give us a solid direction. And it definitely appears as though some of the files are missing. None were found in Trent Galloway’s car, so we’re left to assume—”

“Quinten Bodin has them, meaning he knows everything.” She attempted to sit up in the bed.”

Alex approached her and held out his hands. “Remy, relax. There’s nothing more for you to do today, okay? I’ll take you home. Doctor says you just need some rest, but that you really need to watch how hard you’re working.”

“No, I have to see Claire—”

“She will understand,” Alex cut in.

“Alex, please. I can’t leave my sister’s family in that place and not give them an update on where things stand. Billy has a job to go to. They have a life.”

“And they’re not there because of you, Remy. This is about Billy’s father and people well outside your control. I’m sorry, but you’re doing what you can to fix this. It’s going to take time.”

Remy wasn’t an overly emotional person — not since she was a teenager and DeChamp got hold of her — but a tear rolled down her cheek. She felt guilty leaving Claire to wonder what was going on. How long they would be holed up in that tiny house. Wondering whether her husband’s life was still in danger.

“I’m still getting out of here now.” She pulled off the finger monitor. “Will you at least take me to them so I can talk to her? Then, I’ll go home, okay? I promise.”

Alex helped her from the bed. “Fine.”

As he took her arm and lifted her gently, she turned back to him. “Thank you, by the way.”

His eyes held compassion and warmth. “Any time. You’re like a sister to me, Remy. I’ll always be here for you.”

* * *

Alex drove Remy back to the safe house as dusk settled over Lafayette. She peered through the passenger window at the passing landscape of green trees with Spanish moss dangling from their branches. Her phone rang and she noted the caller ID. “It’s Cole.” She answered. “Hi.”

“Where are you?” he asked.

“On my way to see Claire. I wanted to update her, and Alex agreed to drive me. We found some files at the Galloway home, but it appears someone else did too. We think it was Quinten Bodin. Gauthier collected the boxes, so we’ll meet with him to go through it all.”

“I took a trip to the Bodin docks,” Cole said. “Got a few pictures of shipping manifests. Took a look at their operations. It might be worth calling up our FBI friend, Montenegro, and asking him to look into the shippers they’re working with. We need an opening into their organization until you all find something on Quinten Bodin.”

“What do you think he’ll find?” she asked.

“Ideally, a connection to an organization tied to drug trafficking. I can do a few things with Interpol, but the feds have better access to international intel.”

“You think we can get him to organize a raid?” Remy asked.

At this, Alex turned his attention to her.

“Not with what we have right now. We’d absolutely be jumping the gun, but if we can get something tangible, then we’ll let those guys have at it.” Cole paused a moment. “So, do you want to meet up later and go through all this?”

She glanced at Alex, gauging his reaction, before returning to the conversation. “Do you need to contact your people at the safe house and update them?”

“Already done,” Cole replied. “They don’t know you’re coming, but I’ll call them as soon as we’re finished here. They’re going to be fine, Remy. You don’t need to worry about that. They’re safe.”

“No, I get that. I just need them to see that I’m working to fix things so they can go home. So, I’ll call you when I get back and we’ll arrange to meet up.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

She ended the call and felt Alex’s eyes on her.

“Why didn’t you tell him what happened today?” he asked.

“No point in worrying him,” she replied.

“It seems to me you’ve kept him at arm’s length since the shooting. I can’t figure out why that is.”

Remy slipped her phone into her laptop bag. “Yeah, well, I guess that makes two of us.”

Alex soon arrived at the safe house in the small neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. “I see Grayson’s people at the front. That’s a good sign.”

“Let’s hope their stay has so far been uneventful.” When Alex stopped at the top of the driveway, Remy stepped out. While she had felt much better, a part of her worried her blood pressure would drop again. So, this time, when Alex offered his hand, she accepted it.

They carried on toward the door and spotted the Marshals. Remy eyed them. “Evening. How’s everything been today?”

“Nothing to report, ma’am. Grayson called us with a heads-up you were coming. Go on in,” one of the men replied.

“Thanks.” Leaning on her cane a little more than usual, she headed inside and called out, “Claire? It’s Remy and Alex.”

Claire appeared from around the corner and smiled. “Hey.” She hugged her sister but quickly pulled back. “So, what’s happening? Did you arrest Quinten Bodin? Can we go back home yet?”

Alex closed the door behind him as the three stood at the entry. “Not just yet.”

Claire’s shoulders dropped and she closed her eyes. “How much longer?” She headed into the living room, where Billy and Isaiah sat on the sofa.

Billy stood up as they entered. “Hey, Remy. What’s going on? Any word?”

“I wish I had some news for you,” she began. “But I don’t. Not yet. But we are making progress.”

He cast down his gaze. “This is on me. I brought this on.” He looked at Claire. “I’m so sorry, Claire. Now you and Isaiah have to hide out with me.”

“This isn’t on you, Billy,” Remy interjected. “Besides, I can’t imagine it being more than a couple of days. You haven’t told anyone you’re here, right?”

“I do know better than that,” Billy said. “I guess a few days won’t matter in the grand scheme of things. These people need to be put away.” He placed his arm over Claire’s shoulder. “Then we’ll be safe. I only wish I’d known what my father had done sooner.” He shrugged. “I never questioned where he got any of the money.”

“Your mom didn’t either,” Claire said.

“If she did, she never said a word to me,” Billy replied.

Remy narrowed her brow. “Do you think she’d talk to us?”

“Her memory isn’t what it used to be. I’d probably prefer to be the one to ask her, though. No point in scaring her.”

Remy pulled out a burner phone from her laptop bag. “Try to get hold of her and ask her some questions. If you learn anything, call me immediately. In the meantime, we need to get back to Baton Rouge. There’s a chance we could get something on the Bodin family as soon as tomorrow. We’ll see how that goes.” She eyed her sister. “You’ll be okay for a while longer?”

Claire wore a half-hearted smile. “It doesn’t seem as though we have much choice.”

* * *

Alex helped Remy into her apartment as the time reached about seven p.m. He turned on the hall light and led her to the kitchen. “Please try to get some rest tonight, okay?”

She set down her cane and walked toward the sofa. “What about what Cole said regarding the images he took? What if Montenegro can do something? We should get with Cole and take a look at what he has. This could expose the Bodins, which will open a door to press murder charges against the son. Alex, I need to get these guys off Billy’s scent. I don’t think they’ll stop until they find what they’re looking for, whether Billy knows or not.”

“You’re asking me to stay?” Alex asked. “What about Gauthier?”

“Their New Orleans operation is outside his jurisdiction.” She’d seen that look on Alex’s face before. “Hey, I don’t want Maggie getting upset with me, so if you need to be with your family, then go. I understand. But if you can stay and help Cole and me find a way to pierce the Bodin operation . . . Alex, we don’t have time to wait until morning. Whatever Cole has will need to be investigated quickly to determine whether there’s something there.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll stick it out with you here, and when Grayson arrives, we’ll see to it we’re not chasing our tails.”

She picked up her phone. “Thank you. I’m calling him now.” Remy waited only a moment before it was answered. “Cole, hey, we’re back at my place. Can you swing by now?”

“We?” he asked.

“Alex drove me. We all know this can’t wait until morning. If we want to hit up Montenegro, we need proof and a plan.” There was a long pause.

“You’re right. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. See you soon.”

She ended the call. “He’s twenty minutes away.”

“Why don’t you sit down, Remy? The doctor said you needed to be off your feet. You want something to drink?”

“Wouldn’t mind a beer,” she replied.

“I think I could use one myself.” He walked to the kitchen to grab two bottles of beer. On his return, he handed one to Remy. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” She chugged back a long drink.

Alex sat down at the other end of the sectional. “So, uh, are you going to tell Grayson about the hospital today?”

“I hadn’t planned on it,” she replied. “I understand that I pushed myself. I see that now and can tell you it won’t happen again, okay? I’ve been introduced to my limitations, and I don’t care to meet them again.”

“It’s part of the process, Remy. You have to give yourself the time your body needs to heal. What I said before — about whether you wanted to be part of our team — I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put that kind of pressure on you. None of this is easy. I know you well enough to see what it’s done to you. So, just forget what I said. You are a part of our team, and things will return to normal in time.”

A knock sounded on the front door. Alex stood. “I’ll bet that’s our friendly neighborhood US Marshal.”

Remy laughed. “I’ll bet you’re right.”

He continued toward the front door at the end of the narrow entryway and opened it. “Grayson. Good to see you.”

“And you, Chasse.”

“Remy’s on the couch. You want a beer?” Alex asked.

“Sure. Why not?” Cole continued inside and noticed Remy on the sofa. “Hi.”

She turned to him.

“No need to get up.” Cole made his way over and sat next to her. “It’s been a long day. How you holding up?”

“Good. Yeah, no problems.”

Alex returned and shot her a glance as he handed Cole his beer.

“Thanks, man,” Cole said. “Glad to hear it. So, here’s what I know about what they have in their warehouse as of now. And I think this is our shot at opening the door to a larger investigation that’ll give us the man we need.”

Chapter 15

The drive back down to New Orleans was for a new purpose now. Cole had made contact with FBI Agent Felix Montenegro, who’d been an integral part in bringing down bad apple Agent Ducane and helping Remy find Kyle DeChamp.

Now, he was keenly interested in what they had to say on the matter of the Bodin family and Cole’s covert tour of the warehouse and docks.

Agent Montenegro had been there when Remy had a clean shot at Kyle DeChamp. The man had taken a bullet to the chest when DeChamp took a shot at him. Luckily, he’d been wearing a Kevlar vest. She trusted him, and if he thought they had something on the Bodins, that was good enough for her.

Montenegro met them in the lobby of the New Orleans field office. With a hand in the pocket of his black dress pants, he eyed Remy and donned a bright smile that accentuated his caramel-colored skin. In top form for a man in his forties, he had dark curly hair cut close to his head.

Remy was sure she saw a hint of pity underneath his smile. “Agent Montenegro.” She continued inside with her cane and held out her other hand. “I didn’t think we’d be seeing each other again so soon — or at all.”

He chuckled and accepted her greeting. “Well, I, for one, couldn’t be happier to see you, Fontaine. I heard what happened and I’m sorry as hell.”

“Don’t be,” she replied. “I came through just fine.”

Montenegro nodded and turned to Alex. “Agent Chasse. Pleasure.” He turned to Cole. “And Deputy Marshal Grayson. Looks like the gang’s all here. Good to see you, man. Thanks for the heads-up on this Bodin situation.”

“Hey, I’m happy to bring something like this to the big boys,” Cole replied.

“Then let’s not waste any more time.” Montenegro turned on his heel and waved at them. “Come on back. I have a room set up for us.”

Alex started ahead, and Remy trailed with Cole at her side. She couldn’t deny that it felt good having him with her again. Working on something big. Something that could really change things and, ultimately, protect her family.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?” Cole asked.

“For not giving up on me.”

Montenegro opened the door. “Right, through here, guys. I’ll have some coffee and water brought in.”

“Thanks.” Alex stepped inside and set his hands on his hips. “Nice place. I forget your budget is a hell of a lot bigger than ours.”

“And mine,” Cole replied. “It’s good to be king.” He patted Montenegro on the back.

“Take a seat, and we’ll get started.” Montenegro moved to the head of the table and opened the laptop. The television monitor on the wall flickered on with the FBI logo emblazoned on a blue screen. “I got your emails last night with the photos.” One of them appeared on the monitor. “And I immediately dug into the name of the company listed as the shipper.”

“What’d you find?” Remy asked.

“This particular corporation is based in China. We all know China’s a huge trade partner with the United States, so it’s no big surprise there. What was a surprise was that I found the corporation had several subsidiaries.” Montenegro changed the image on the screen. “This one here is what caught my interest.”

“How so?” Alex asked.

“They’re a manufacturer of precursor chemicals.”

Remy shot him a glance. “The chemicals used to make fentanyl.”

“That’s right. Now, that’s not enough to leap to the conclusion that the shipment sitting inside the Bodin warehouse contains any of those precursor chemicals.”

“How would we go about finding out that little detail?” Cole asked.

“By raiding the warehouse,” Montenegro replied. “Which we’re not ready to do. Not even close.”

“What more do you need in order to do that or to at least open an investigation into Bodin Enterprises?” Remy pressed on.

“Our file on this family is already extensive,” Montenegro continued. “And we’re looking at a means to an end here, right? Obtain a warrant, specifically on Quinten Bodin, because we think he could be the killer of both Galloways. And continue up the food chain to Salvatore Bodin because I think we all know he’d be the one who ordered the hits.”

“There’s also a substantial amount of money tucked away in offshore accounts,” Remy said. “Which is why my family is in a uniquely dangerous position. The Bodins want this money back, and I have no doubt they’d kill my brother-in-law without hesitation to get it.”

Cole raised his index finger. “But if we can put the kibosh on their operation, we’re essentially kneecapping them, buying us time to both find the money and tie it back to the Bodins’ drug trafficking operations.”

Montenegro folded his arms and stared at the monitor. “Here’s what I think we can do to buy you time. I’ll put together a small team, and we’ll serve a warrant to search the shipments currently in their warehouse based on an anonymous tip that provided probable cause. I can tie up their shipments for a good week, maybe two. The tougher part will be to keep the sons and Salvatore Bodin under house arrest during that time.”

“You’d have to somehow prove they directed the receipt of the shipments,” Cole added. “And it didn’t come from one of their employees.”

“Exactly. And that’s where I’ll need some time to lay out how we go about doing that.” Montenegro looked at Remy. “But I’ll make it happen. During such time, you’ll have to bust your ass to find the offshore money so we can tie it back to the Bodins and prove it was a motive for Quinten Bodin to murder the Galloways.”

“And when we do, it’ll only solidify your case against the family,” Remy replied. “Yeah, I think that’s our best shot.”

Montenegro shut down the laptop and stood. “Then I’ll get started on my end.”

“What can we do to help you facilitate this op?” Alex asked. “I think we strengthen this case by including LBI and” — he looked at Cole — “the Marshals.”

“Agreed,” Cole replied.

“Let me just make one thing clear.” Montenegro set his sights on them. “These guys won’t make it easy for us. Not only do they have eyes and ears in every corner of this state, but it’s possible they’ll have someone with the courts looking out for warrant applications.”

“Our best bet then, is to have the team ready on site to act the moment the judge signs the warrant,” Cole said.

“How soon can this happen?” Remy asked.

Montenegro rubbed his chin and paused. “Give me twenty-four hours. I’ll make it happen.”

* * *

If a search was going to happen, it wouldn’t happen until tomorrow. The time it would take to get a warrant and organize a team meant it was best to head back to Baton Rouge and prepare for what lay ahead.

Alex shifted into park in front of Remy’s apartment building and turned to her. “You should take the day to rest. After your hospital stint, you need recovery time.”

She set her sights on him. “And the Bodin docks?”

“What about them?”

“Alex, I know I can’t be part of it, but I want to be there. I have to see the Bodins take the hit so I know I can get Claire and Billy back home.”

“The sons will be in Lafayette, most likely,” Alex replied. “I’ll have to get the Criminal Division to assemble a team and be ready to bring them the moment the warrant is served. So, maybe it’s best you stay here or hang out on the sidelines while Valencic and his people do what they need to do.”

Remy reached for the door handle and prepared to make her final plea. “If Montenegro is right, and the Bodins have court clerks in their pockets, then they’ll all know something’s up the moment the warrant application goes in. The sons will go to New Orleans. That’s where you’ll find them and that’s where I want to be.”

“Damn it, Remy, why do you want to put yourself through that? This is the FBI. They do know what they’re doing.”

“That’s what we thought about Ducane, wasn’t it?” She scoffed. “Look, I know Montenegro is one of the good guys. He’s proven that to me already. But Salvatore Bodin came after Billy.” She opened the door. “Even if I’m just working with coms, I’m still there. Still part of it. Don’t take that away from me.”

Remy stepped out of Alex’s car and grabbed her cane. Although the sun had only just set, it felt much later. She was exhausted and in pain. And everything Alex said was right, but she wasn’t ready to give up. Though it would be in a different capacity, she wanted to be there and watch the Bodins pay the price for putting her family through this.

She entered her apartment and felt the heat of the spring day still trapped inside. Her feet shuffled atop the wood floor as she headed toward the balcony and opened the sliding glass door. A mild breeze drifted inside and cooled her skin.

Finally taking a seat on her sofa, she recalled the previous evening when Alex and Cole had sat right here beside her, going over plans to bring an end to the Bodin family. A crazy proposition to those who’d been in law enforcement any length of time. That family had so many connections; their web was thick and dangerous to the ones who dared enter. Maybe she was in over her head, and it was insane to think she should be part of the raid. After all, Montenegro was more than capable of running the operation. And she’d spent half the previous day in a hospital bed. What the hell good would she be to anyone?

Remy propped her legs on the coffee table, cradled by two soft throw pillows. She grabbed her phone and checked her emails. It seemed Ketner had abandoned all hope she would assist with his hunt for a fugitive. No updates regarding the investigation or his visit with her former colleague who’d retrieved DOT camera footage. She’d been written out, and it was her own doing.

Alex said he’d made a mistake insisting Remy prove where her loyalties lay. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized she’d pulled Alex away from his team and his job — maybe her loyalties didn’t reside inside the FAU anymore.

* * *

From inside the FBI’s New Orleans field office, Montenegro had gathered his team. At the same time, Alex set up the video call with Jaime Valencic, lead agent inside the LBI’s criminal division, along with his partner, Rich Lopez. Remy had met both early on in her rookie year with FAU.

Inside the operations room, Montenegro set up an aerial shot of the docks and the Bodin warehouse on the large wall-mounted monitor. Alex prepared to make the call to LBI’s agents, who readied for the trip to Lafayette to keep eyes on the Bodin sons.

Cole pulled out a chair for Remy. “Take a load off.”

“Thanks.” She sat down.

“Did you get some sleep last night?” he asked.

“I did. I’m feeling much better today.”

“Good, because we’re going to need everyone to be at the top of their game if we hope to pull this off.” Cole took a seat beside her.

Remy appreciated that he didn’t question her ability to perform, even if it was a legitimate concern. She felt part of the operation, and it meant a great deal to have his blessing, as it were. Meanwhile, Alex was still reluctant. Maybe it was the brotherly love he held for her. His protective nature. Regardless, he wasn’t thrilled she was there.

Montenegro stood at the head of the table. “If we’re going to move on these folks, then we’d better start hashing this out. I want to be there on site within two hours. According to my contact, the warrant is set to be signed midday. Not ideal, as I’d rather it come at the end of the day, but it is what it is, and we’ll deal with it.” He aimed a laser pointer at the monitor. “These are the docks run by Bodin Enterprises. We’ll want to set up a perimeter around the warehouse and keep eyes on the docks. Last thing we want is for people to move shipments onboard, or worse, dump them in the Gulf. I have more people on standby should the need arise.”

“And New Orleans PD?” Cole asked.

“Not part of the equation,” Montenegro replied. “We’ll go in, serve the warrant, and immediately shut down all operations. I would expect that when that happens, word will quickly reach Salvatore Bodin, and he’ll hustle his ass to the docks if he’s not already there. He’ll contact his sons and that’s where LBI will come in.” He turned to Alex.

“I’ve got our criminal division agents waiting for our call.” He made the call and cast the video to the monitor. The call was answered by Valencic, who was at a desk with his partner Lopez.”

“Morning, Chasse,” Valencic said. “You folks down there ready to give us a heads-up?”

“Thanks for joining us,” Alex replied. “You’re here with FBI Senior Agent Montenegro, Deputy Marshal Grayson, who you guys already know, and three other federal agents who’ll be assisting with the operation. Agent Fontaine is also joining us.”

Remy nodded. “Good to see you guys.”

“Good to see you, Fontaine.” Valencic turned his attention to Alex. “What’s the plan?”

Alex filled them in on the operation as it currently stood and their part in bringing in the Bodin brothers.

“You have enough to hold those two?” Valencic asked.

“We will by the time we’re done,” Alex added. “So, keep the lines clear. I’ll be in touch soon and we’ll go from there. Thanks to both of you for your help on this.”

“Anytime. Good luck down there and stay safe.” Valencic ended the call.

Montenegro eyed the team. “All right. We know the plan. Let’s get the gear and be ready to move.”

* * *

Montenegro took everything in his stride, mulling over every detail as if trying to put together an investigative jigsaw puzzle with just one piece missing — but enough information gathered to give him an idea of what it could look like when everything was properly executed.

From inside the surveillance van, Montenegro began. “Our recon team is in place, and I expect the warrant to be signed in the next hour.”

Alex looked at Montenegro. “What about keeping Sal Bodin on scene? If he flees, I don’t think we’ll see him again for some time. We’ll need eyes on him and any vehicles he has at his disposal.”

“We’ll keep eyes on him.” Montenegro engaged his radio. “Everyone at their stations?”

“Copy that. We’re ready when you are,” an agent replied.

“Now, we wait.” Montenegro checked the time.

The inside of the high-tech surveillance van warmed quickly with everyone’s body heat. Remy sat at one of the stations where she viewed the monitors of the agents’ body cameras. “I’ve never been on this side of an op.”

“Welcome to the Bureau,” Montenegro replied. “This is how most of our raids go down.” He received a notification on his phone and peered at it. “Hang on. This could be it.” He checked the messages and nodded. “Yep. Here we go. Warrant’s signed and I just got the image sent to me.” He looked up. “If you’re coming with me, let’s move.”

Cole, Alex, and Montenegro exited the van. Cole gave a final look back at Remy. “We’ll get what we came for.”

“I know. Stay safe,” she replied. To her right was another surveillance operator. “What do we do now?”

The eager young man removed his headphones and set his gaze on her. “We do our best to alert them to danger they can’t see.”

“Okay.” Remy turned back to the several monitors before her. “But we don’t have eyes on Montenegro or the other two.”

“Once the warrant is served, our agents will move in to keep the peace. Don’t worry, this isn’t our first rodeo, Agent Fontaine.”

* * *

Montenegro held up his badge as the three entered through the bay doors. “FBI, we have a warrant to search the premises. I’m going to need everyone to step outside while we conduct our search.”

Alex stood beside the federal agent and raised his badge. “Louisiana Bureau of Investigation. We’re assisting the FBI and the US Marshals in this operation. Everyone, please step away from your stations and move outside.”

A man in a light blue button-down and black dress pants hurried toward them. “What the hell is going on here? Where is this warrant?”

Montenegro showed it to him. “This will go much smoother if you ask your employees to do as they’re told. We need everyone out of here. Right now. Let us do our job.”

“Son of a bitch.” He spun around and waved his arm. “All right. Everyone out. Come on now. Let these nice agents go through the place until they realize we got nothing to hide.” No one budged. “I’m not asking. Now, let’s move.”

The workers filed out of the large warehouse when the backup agents went in to assist.

Montenegro patted Alex on the back. “Let’s see what we can find.”

They moved among several pallets, noting which containers were headed where and trying to identify the shippers, particularly the one tied to the chemical plant in China. Cole soon located a cluster of pallets neatly tucked away among construction material cargo containers nearby. “Hey, over here. I think I got something.”

Alex soon appeared with Montenegro beside him. He eyed the pallets. “Is this from the same company?”

“It’s the one I saw yesterday,” Cole replied. “This could be what we need. Who’s opening it?”

“Got the tool right here.” Montenegro held up his crowbar and wedged it between the wood crates. The lid popped off one of the containers and he peered inside. “Look what we have here.” He grabbed his phone and photographed the contents. “This is what we needed.”

Alex received a call. “It’s Valencic.” He answered. “Yeah? What’s happening there? I think we just got what we needed.”

“The sons seem to be preparing to make a move,” Valencic replied. “What do you want us to do?”

Alex looked at Montenegro. “Are we ready to hold the Bodin brothers? My guy says they’re about to take off.”

Some commotion near his agents caused Montenegro to turn. “What the hell’s going on?”

Alex turned around. “Oh shit. This doesn’t look good.” He returned to the call. “Take them into custody. Now!” He slipped his phone back into his pocket. “What the hell are we going to do?”

Montenegro darted ahead, running toward the pier where employees cut lines and moved gear to the ships. Alex and Cole followed closely behind. The three agents shouted and ran toward the vessels.

“Where’s Sal Bodin?” Montenegro yelled out to his guys.

“I think he’s still inside,” one of them replied.

“Go! Make sure he doesn’t leave.” Montenegro continued toward the docks.

Alex and Cole had just caught up to them when Alex spotted one of the workers brandishing a gun. “Jesus. He’s armed! He’s armed.”

Montenegro pulled out his sidearm. “Drop the weapon. Drop the weapon now!”

Alex checked his gun and secured his position while Cole readied his weapon. The other three agents all stood with firearms aimed at the employees.

A loud siren went off. It came from the warehouse and sounded like a fire alarm. Montenegro, using the distraction, shouted to Cole and Alex. “We need backup.”

* * *

Remy looked on in horror. “Oh my God. They need help.” She shot a look at the kid with the headphones. “Hey, call your people. We need them down here ASAP.”

The kid pressed the radio. “We need backup. Can you send people?”

The radio was connected to an in-house operations center that monitored active ops for this very reason. A reply came through. “I have five en route to your location now. ETA ten minutes.”

“That’s too long,” Remy whispered. “They’ve lost control. They’re outnumbered.”

She stared at the live body cam footage of the three agents and spotted Alex and Cole. Each held their weapons at the ready. They all remained at a virtual standstill as the minutes ticked by. Two agents were already inside to ensure Sal Bodin was taken into custody without incident.

Remy watched them ride up the elevator and carry on into an empty hallway. One of the agents turned to the door. A window next to it revealed Bodin remained at his desk. “He knows his lawyer will get him out.”

“Oh yeah,” the kid replied.

She continued observing the situation while the agents identified themselves and entered the office. Bodin stared right at them, but it looked like he stared directly at her. This was the man who’d paid a visit to her brother-in-law. God knows what he would’ve done if Billy had pushed back.

Within moments, Bodin was cuffed and placed under arrest. That was when the radio sounded.

“We’re coming up behind you now.”

The kid opened the van door and waited for their approach.

“What’s the situation right now?” one of the agents asked.

“It’s basically a standoff. Two of our guys are in the building with Sal Bodin. One is on the dock with Montenegro, the US Marshal, and the LBI agent. Things went south pretty quick. You need to help them put an end to this.”

“We’re on it.” The agent turned back to his team. “Let’s move.”

* * *

It was Alex who spotted help arrive. “Montenegro?”

When the other agents appeared, they surrounded the workers who still wielded guns.

“Game over, fellas,” Montenegro replied. “It didn’t have to be this way. None of this involved you before now. Put down your guns. It’s time to end this.”

“Do as he says,” Cole shouted.

“All right. All right.” One of the men, who appeared to be in charge, set down his gun on the dock. “Put ’em down, guys. It’s over.” He turned his attention to the building where Bodin emerged in cuffs with the two agents. “Son of a bitch.”

“It’s all right, fellas,” Bodin called out on his approach. “You’re only making things worse. Let these boys do their jobs and everything will be fine.”

It seemed that with Bodin’s assurances, the standoff ended. Agents moved in to cuff those with weapons while Alex, Cole, and Agent Montenegro moved inside to finish their search.

“We know we have one shipment,” Montenegro began. “Let’s find the rest and shut this place down.”

Chapter 16

Montenegro took Sal Bodin into federal custody. The search yielded several pallets that comprised the chemicals necessary to make fentanyl. Nothing else inside the warehouse was found to contain illicit drugs, counterfeit goods, or anything else they could use to build a case against the family.

“This couldn’t have happened without you getting inside that place to see the shipping manifest.” Montenegro placed his hand on Cole’s shoulder. “You risked a hell of a lot.”

“It was worth it to try to bring down this family,” Cole replied. “There’s still a long way to go, but you’ve got a solid start. Now, it’s up to us to use this opening to bring murder charges against the Bodin sons.”

“Speaking of.” Alex picked up his phone and made the call on speaker. “Valencic, it’s Chasse. We got Bodin.”

“We heard,” Valencic replied. “Word came down fast, and we moved to arrest Quinten and Vince. I’m having them transferred to the field office in New Orleans. Should be there in another hour or so.”

Alex glanced at Remy. “That’s great news. Thank you. We’ll have to bust our asses to get charges to stick against Quinten, but that’s on us. You did your part. Thanks, man.”

“Anytime, SAC Chasse.” Valencic ended the call.

“SAC Chasse?” Montenegro said. “You get promoted?”

“Yeah, uh, Hubert’s out. I’m in.”

“Congrats. I have no doubt you’ll do a hell of a job.” Montenegro checked the time. “Listen, I’ve got a shit ton of paperwork to finish and you three have a long drive back.” He looked at Remy. “I hope you can get your family back to their lives, Fontaine. And I know you would’ve been right there beside us today if you could’ve.”

“You know it. Thank you.” She turned to Alex. “We should head out. It’s a long drive to Lafayette.”

* * *

The first thing Remy wanted to do was get Claire and Billy out of the safe house. With Quinten Bodin behind bars, Billy was safe for a while. Now came the real work to keep them behind bars and away from her family.

Evening had settled on the city when Remy, Alex, and Cole arrived at the safe house. Alex stopped the car and Cole drove up behind them. He set his gaze on her. “I know how hard it was for you to sit this one out, Remy, but you still did a hell of a job.”

“You all risked your lives while I sat safely inside the surveillance van. It wasn’t how I envisioned things.” She opened her door and stepped out, her legs stiff from the long drive. The evening air was laced with a hint of jasmine that grew in tall vines on the side of the cottage. The sky was clear. Crickets chirped and the light breeze rustled the marshy grass.

Cole caught up to her as she headed toward the front door. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad we can get your family back home,” he said.

She smiled. “Me too, Cole.” Remy opened the door while Cole talked to his team, who flanked the entrance. Inside, soft light filtered from the lampshades and the television flickered with imagery. She looked at the sofa to find Claire sitting up with her elbows on her knees. The two locked eyes.

“Is it over?” Claire asked.

Remy approached her. “It’s over. We’re here to take you home.”

Claire wiped her welling eyes. “We can go home?”

“Yes. Quinten Bodin is behind bars, so is his brother and father. We’re not through this yet, but we’ve bought ourselves time to build a case. They won’t be getting out without cutting through mounds of red tape.”

“Are you sure?” Claire asked.

“I’m sure.”

“Oh, thank God. I’ll go tell Billy. He’s reading Isaiah a bedtime story.”

As Claire made her way into the hall, Cole approached Remy. “Everything okay?”

She glanced at Alex in the kitchen with the refrigerator door open. “Yeah, fine. She’s going to get everyone packed and ready to go.”

He sat down next to her. “What happened out there today — taking the Bodins into custody — it won’t go unnoticed. Not by the Bureau, the Marshals, or LBI.”

“When the agencies work together, this is what can be accomplished. Montenegro deserves credit for taking a chance you were right.”

“What I mean is for you, Remy. It won’t go unnoticed for you.”

“Excuse me if I disagree. All I did was sit in a van while you all dodged bullets and made arrests. If anyone’s getting noticed, it’ll be you, Alex, and Montenegro.”

“What if I told you, Remy, that my boss mentioned he’d be open to seeing you come on board with the Marshals?”

“What?” She pulled back her shoulders and narrowed her gaze. “Did you recommend me?”

“No, actually, I didn’t. We were going over the Bodin files and I talked about your role in the case. He knew your history with DeChamp.”

She scoffed. “I suppose everyone does.”

“My point is, Remy, you could advance quickly with the Marshals. You’ve already got ten years with the State Police, plus your time with the LBI. What do you think? Would you consider it?”

She looked away. “I have to tell you something, Cole. Yesterday, I was taken to the hospital.”

His face masked with concern. “Why?”

Remy told him what had happened at the Galloway home and what her doctor said. “She’s right. I’m not healed. And I don’t know how long it will take for that to happen. And I just don’t know.” She cast her eye to Alex, who remained in the kitchen on his phone. “Alex and I are good together. He went to bat for me on this case. To get LBI in on it. I don’t know if I could leave him.”

“I get that. You’ve always valued loyalty. But I wish you’d told me about the hospital. I thought we were getting past the whole pushing back thing. How long are you going to keep at it? It hurts being on the receiving end; I can promise you that.”

She looked into his blue eyes. Her skin tingled as she held his gaze. “I didn’t want you to see me as weak. I didn’t want anyone to see me as weak. I’ve been in that space before and was taken advantage of.”

“Do you think I would ever take advantage of you?” he asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “I know you wouldn’t, but it’s just who I am. Who I’ve been for a long time, Cole. Regardless, I’m sorry. You, of all people, after what you did . . . I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

Cole took her hand. “Just think about the offer. Please. That’s all I ask.”

* * *

Claire and her family were back home, safe in their beds. Remy entered her apartment — the sun was set to rise in only a few hours. If she closed her eyes now, she might get in a little sleep before starting a new day. But that wasn’t likely to happen. Not when her mind swirled with all the events of yesterday and Cole’s invitation last night. One she didn’t feel she deserved. After all, she’d taken a backseat to the whole thing. It stung and her pride was hurt.

She shuffled inside, hardly able to lift her feet. She placed her bag on the nearby dining chair and noticed her apartment was still too warm. Maybe it was time to turn on the air conditioning.

Standing in her quiet living room, something still bothered her. Where had this money gone that forced the Bodins to come after Galloway? Was it that they feared he would talk about what he knew of their operations? And what kind of money were they talking about? Millions? If so, and Jackson Dupre had hidden it somewhere, what would that mean for Billy? Who might come after him next?

This was where Remy could act. While Detective Gauthier worked to press murder charges for the deaths of Peter and Trent Galloway, she could focus on finding the missing money. If it was out there, chances were pretty good that Billy might still be in Bodin’s crosshairs, never mind what she’d assured Claire. Regardless, the Bodins wouldn’t risk sending anyone after Billy right now in light of their present legal troubles. Just like Gauthier building his murder case, she had precious little time to find this money, to ensure the Bodins would have no reason to ever come after anyone in her family again.

Remy walked to her sofa and sat down, retrieving her laptop from the bag. She opened it and considered who out there could help her find this money — if it existed?

Only one name came to mind. “Cole.” The Marshals had the ability to seize assets. Money, property, all of the above. Which meant they had the resources to find it. Cole must’ve known this was where her mind would lead her. Maybe that was why he made the offer to join the Marshals.

She picked up the phone and made the call. “It’s me. Did I wake you?”

Cole cleared his throat. “No, I’m too wound up. You’re awake. What’s going on? Something happen with Claire and Billy?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” she replied. “It’s about something else — the missing money the Bodins were on the hunt for with Galloway. When Alex and I searched Peter Galloway’s files, we noticed some were clearly missing. Mrs. Galloway had no idea who would have them, but I’d venture a guess that Quinten came after them and figured out Jackson Dupre was involved. If the money is still out there, he might send someone else out there to look for it. And they might use Billy again as leverage.”

“What are you saying, Remy?” Cole asked. “I thought everything we just went through was to buy time to keep Quinten Bodin behind bars for murder.”

“It was, and it will. But not forever. I’m saying I could use your help. The help of the Marshals to find that money and seize it,” she replied.

“You’re saying you want a joint effort with LBI?”

“I won’t get LBI’s approval for this. Not when there’s no one left to arrest,” she added.

“I suppose that depends on what we find,” Cole replied.

“Maybe, but my point is, this has to be outside the normal channels. And maybe I should consider what your boss said.”

“What?” His tone lightened. “You’re saying you want to make a move?”

“I want to end this for my family once and for all. DeChamp’s gone. I thought that meant everyone in my life was safe. But I’m not so sure of that anymore. Someone else could be willing to do the Bodins’ dirty work, Cole. I need your help in finding them before they find Billy.”

* * *

Alex Chasse lived in an exclusive neighborhood in Baton Rouge. He inserted his key into the front door and carefully opened it to the sound of the alarm beeping its warning. He walked to the keypad and entered the code.

The house was dark and quiet. Curtains drawn. Blinds closed. The only light came from the backlit keypad of the alarm and a few digital clocks on various devices throughout the living room and kitchen.

His new job as special agent in charge hadn’t gone exactly as he’d hoped. Part of him felt he’d betrayed Hubert when he let Cole Grayson convince him that Hubert’s actions caused harm to Remy. Hubert had lied, and Remy had forgiven him, believing he’d done it to help end DeChamp’s reign from inside prison.

When she was shot, though, he thought he would lose her. Now, he wondered if she could do the job. Not so much that, but whether she would be happy doing it in a different capacity than she was used to.

Alex carried on up the stairs, tiptoeing his way so as not to wake the kids. As he reached the landing, a text arrived on his phone. He retrieved it to see the message from Remy. She wanted to sit down first thing in the morning to talk.

He returned his phone to his pocket and opened his bedroom door to find Maggie curled up on her side, facing away from him. A peaceful hum emanated from her. In about two hours, his alarm would go off, and it would be time to get up and go to work. So, he lay next to his wife, feeling comforted by her body close to him. But in the back of his mind, he considered what his life might be like if Remy was no longer beside him. Her presence had changed his perspective on the job, and on life. Now, left with her ominous words, he could only consider she might leave.

“Hey, babe,” Maggie whispered. “You’re home late.” She turned over.

In the darkness of their bedroom, her face was cast in shadow, but her brown eyes stared into him. “I know. I’m sorry.” He kissed her forehead. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

When she turned over again, Alex closed his eyes. He didn’t share what happened on the job with Maggie. It was best if she didn’t know. In the six months Remy was on leave, he hadn’t been in the field with anyone. A part of him wondered, if she hadn’t come back, would he have ever gone out there again, or had the allure of her ambitions led him to do things he wouldn’t normally do? Like risking his life when he had a family at home.

* * *

Remy awoke to searing pain in her legs. Her nerves sent shockwaves through them that nearly brought her to tears. She shot up, her hands rubbing hard against her thighs and down her calves. It eased the pain only slightly. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, but it hadn’t happened in weeks. Yet another reminder she wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot.

As the pain subsided, Remy lowered her feet to the wood floor and carefully peeled off her bed, clutching her cane for support. She readied herself for another day.

It took longer than usual this morning to walk into the kitchen and pour a cup of coffee. She reached into the freezer for the waffles and tossed a couple into the toaster. Dread washed over her as she considered what she would say to Alex. There was still the question of whether she could do the job of a US Marshal or if she would be benched as she had been at LBI.

Rather than ponder questions for which there seemed no answer, Remy drove into work, hardly realizing she’d arrived. The day was already warming. The spring had brought on higher temperatures sooner than usual.

She stepped out of her 4Runner, still feeling the effect of her nerves rewiring themselves, although the pain was mostly gone now. From the parking garage, she rode the elevator to the FAU offices and stepped out. She surveyed the bullpen. “I really hate these cubicles.”

As she reached her desk, she peered over the partition to see Ketner. “Hi, good morning.”

“Morning, Remy,” he said flatly. “I hear you and Alex had a pretty tough day yesterday.” He cast a gentle look at her. “You okay?”

“I am, Kevin. Thank you for asking. We got the people responsible, and my family is back home.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Remy. I really am. I hope this means you’ll be putting your focus on our case now?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ve pushed myself too hard these past couple of days, and I still couldn’t work with the others as part of the team. My injury kept me on the sidelines.”

“Ah.” Ketner raised his chin. “That’s not a place you like to be.”

A corner of her mouth ticked up. “No, it isn’t.”

“Look, Remy, I think you just need a little more time and you’ll be back to your old self soon enough. We all know that.”

“Do you?” She looked around at the others, sitting at their desks. “I’m starting to feel like the outsider here again. Like no one else thinks I’m capable.”

“It’s not that. It’s just that it doesn’t quite feel like you’re part of the team. They’re only seeing how this affects the team, same as me. Not how it impacts you,” he replied. “That’s our shortcoming, not yours.”

“Regardless, I have to talk to Alex and figure all this out. I love you guys. I really do, but I have to consider what I’m doing to the rest of the team, like you said.”

He knitted his brow. “What are you going to do, Remy?”

She cast her gaze toward the hall. “I don’t know yet. I’m hoping Alex might be able to help me decide.” She set down her things and turned to make her way into the corridor.

“Whatever you decide, Remy, we’ll all stand behind you,” Ketner called out.

She smiled and carried on toward Alex’s office. Ketner’s words were kind and thoughtful. It was just who he was, and she appreciated it. Of all the agents besides Alex, Ketner was always there for her. At first, she thought it was because she’d once saved his life, but as time went on, she realized he had a good heart and cared for her. They were all good people. Even Elliot Gainor.

“Alex?” She arrived at his doorway.

“Remy, hey. Come in.” He walked around his desk and offered his hand.

“It’s okay. I got it.” She sat down with obvious effort. “Sorry I texted you so late last night, but I wasn’t sure you planned to come in this morning.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked as he returned to his desk.

“I don’t know. Yesterday was rough. Rougher than you’ve had it for a while. Probably since I left.” She glanced away in thought. “I’m not sure I want to pull on that thread.”

He chuckled. “You said you wanted to talk. I’m listening.”

“I asked Cole to help me find the money that Jackson Dupre may have hidden, the reason the Bodins came after Galloway and then Billy.”

“Okay.” He pressed his fingers together in a steeple-like form. “What does that mean for your work here? I guess I figured after how well we did yesterday and leading up to the raid that, you know, you were back on track.”

“I’m so grateful to you, Alex, for all you’ve done. Taking me to the hospital, too. Really, since I’ve been here, you’ve been right beside me every step of the way. I consider you my best friend. You should know that.”

“Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?” he asked.

“But after what happened with Hubert and things you don’t know about, how DeChamp ended up dead—”

“I know more than you think,” he cut in. “But I guess that doesn’t surprise me, the actions he took.”

And by “he,” Remy knew Alex meant Cole. He must’ve suspected that Cole was behind the murder. Even more reason to appreciate his friendship for not calling it out.

“Then you know that LBI isn’t the place for me. Not anymore.”

“Why, Remy?” he asked. “If it’s your recovery, you know we’ll work with you. Come on. Think about what you’re saying. Please.”

“I have thought about it, Alex. A lot. And once I get the answers I need to ensure my family remains safe, I’ll be taking more time off. You were right about me not being ready to take on this job like I have in the past.”

“Remy, I didn’t mean—”

“No, Alex, it’s okay.” She shrugged. “You were right. I came back too soon, and it’s been hard on me. Physically, mentally. So, I want to finish what I started and then see how things go. But I know I’m not ready to be back. Not entirely.”

“I’ll bet Cole’s happy about this,” Alex said. “All he’s wanted to do since you met was to take you away from here. And now, I guess he has.”

Chapter 17

Quinten Bodin was sitting behind bars now, awaiting a hearing. He had been transferred from the custody of the New Orleans field office to a federal prison outside Lafayette until that hearing. Bail would be denied, at least for him, thanks to a growing body of evidence showing he may have murdered the Galloways. So now was the time to talk to Quinten and find out what he knew about Peter Galloway and Jackson Dupre and where he believed the money had gone.

Remy arrived at the prison and walked inside to the several layers of security she would need to get through. She was set to meet with Gauthier, who waited for her in the lobby. “Detective.” She approached him with an outstretched hand.

“Fontaine.” He stood to greet her. “No offense, but I feel like we’ve been spending an awful lot of time together lately.”

She smiled. “None taken. I appreciate you meeting me down here.”

“Sure.” He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Why do you want to pull back this curtain? We have Sal Bodin and his sons dead to rights, with Quinten most likely going down for murdering both Galloways. I’m not sure I understand your thought process on this.”

“They came after my brother-in-law because they thought he might know something about the money Peter Galloway stole from them. Who’s to say someone else won’t come knocking again and maybe they won’t be so polite next time?”

“So, you think if the missing money is found, your brother-in-law will be safe, even if it involved his deceased father,” Gauthier said.

“That’s the plan. I help the Marshals find it. They seize it.” She shrugged. “My family’s out of harm’s way.”

He looked into the corridor beyond the metal detectors. “Thing is, Fontaine, you’re banking on Bodin cooperating with us. Unless there’s something in it for him, I don’t see that happening.”

She couldn’t argue with his logic. Quinten Bodin’s entire life was essentially over. His father’s empire was likely gone when all was said and done. Why would he help the woman who was at least partly responsible for that?

Remy glanced away, considering how best to win over Gauthier, whose support had wavered. “We offer something to help his kid brother.”

Gauthier scoffed and aimed a thumb at his chest. “You think I have that kind of authority? That’s gotta come from the DA. You know that, Fontaine. Come on.”

“A shorter sentence isn’t a stretch,” Remy continued. “Quinten and his father were the main players in the family. The brother tagged along for the most part. Look, I get it’s a long shot. LBI, FBI, Lafayette PD — they all want the credit for bringing down this family.”

“And not one of them has the incentive to lift a finger to help,” Gauthier added.

“Except for maybe the promise of recovering untold amounts of money we both know is hidden somewhere.” She was winning him over. She could see it on his face as he considered her proposal. “And if Quinten knows anything about said money, he’ll be willing to talk if it helps his brother.”

Gauthier pursed his lips. “All right. I’m not saying it’s a done deal, but I’m not taking this to the DA unless we get some kind of sign Quinten’s interested in making a trade. So, let’s go talk to him.” He carried on toward the metal detectors and unbuckled his holster, laying his gun in the bin, along with his badge.

Remy followed him, placing her weapon and badge onto the conveyor. As she started to walk through the detector, a security officer held out his hand. “You can’t bring that through, ma’am.”

“What?” she asked.

“The cane. It’s gotta go through the scanner.”

“Oh, yeah, okay.” She stepped back and set down her cane on the belt. She felt Gauthier’s eyes on her — they held pity. “Okay. Let’s try this again.” Remy carried on through with no trouble.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Sure.” Remy grabbed her things and caught up to Gauthier on the other side. “Let’s go.”

The two made their way through the prison to the check-in. “Detective Gauthier. Here to see inmate Quinten Bodin.”

The man behind the bullet-proof glass checked his computer. “All right. Who’s she?” He nodded back to Remy.

“She’s LBI,” he said. “Fontaine, give him your badge.”

She handed it over.

He examined her credentials and typed her name into the computer. “Okay, put on these visitor badges and go back. Someone there will help you.”

“Thanks.” Remy clipped her badge to the first button on her blouse. She followed Gauthier through the maze of halls, offices, and other checkpoints until they eventually arrived at the entrance to the cells.

Gauthier checked them in, and an officer led them back a final time. Then, there he was. Quinten Bodin sitting right there on a concrete slab that served as a bed and a bench. He was inside the cell alone. Not a surprise considering his last name.

“Mr. Bodin?” Gauthier asked. “We’d like to have a word with you.”

Quinten eyed him, then shifted his gaze to Remy. His eyes roamed her body and landed on her cane. “What’s wrong with you?”

She raised her chin. “Nothing’s wrong with me. You?”

He cracked a smile. “I know you. I know both of you. What the hell are you doing here?”

Gauthier glanced at Remy before setting his attention again on Quinten. “We’d like to talk to you about your brother, Vince, and what we might be able to do to help him.” He glanced around. “Might be better to do this someplace private, huh?”

If Bodin was seen dealing with the cops, it wouldn’t go well for him in here. Word would spread quickly.

Quinten seemed to realize this as he glanced at only one other cell that had been occupied. “Yeah, all right. So long as you get me my lawyer. I got no problem with that.”

The L word. It was a necessary evil Remy couldn’t escape. No one in law enforcement could. She knew the reason. Everyone was considered innocent until proven guilty. That was all well and good except when it came to this family. Still, they wouldn’t get around it.

“You have him on speed dial?” Remy asked.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Quinten eyed her and smiled. “I’ll sit down with you then.”

Gauthier nodded. “Fine.” He started away and Remy followed.

They returned to the lobby and he set his gaze on her. “Sounds like he’s interested.”

“Which means we’ll want to have something in place for the sit-down,” Remy said. “I can—”

He raised a hand. “I got it. It’s my department. I’ll reach out to the DA.” He checked the time on his phone. “You planning on sticking around a while?”

“It’ll probably take most of the day to arrange this meeting, so I’ll head back to Baton Rouge and meet you here in the morning, unless by some chance you push this through quickly. If that happens, I can be back inside of an hour,” she replied.

“Don’t hold your breath,” Gauthier began. “But I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you.” She turned away. “And thanks for believing me.”

* * *

Remy entered the US Marshals’ office. She knew Cole would be awaiting an update, and so far, since their conversation last night, she’d put him off. Going through the hassle of getting past security, Remy continued to the front desk. “Afternoon. I’m here to see Deputy Grayson.”

“I’ll let him know you’re here.”

But before the man had a chance to call Cole to the front, he appeared from the hallway.

She smiled. “You knew I was coming.”

Cole shrugged. “I figured eventually you’d show. Come on back.”

She trailed him down the hall and to his office. “I’ve had a fairly busy day. I’m sorry if this is a bad time.”

He turned back to her. “Not at all.” On opening his office door, he ushered Remy inside. “I assumed you were laying the groundwork for what we discussed last night.”

“I was. I even met with Quinten Bodin. Gauthier was there too.”

“Sit down. Can I get you something to drink?” Cole asked.

“I’m fine. Thanks.” She sat and waited while he took a seat behind his desk. “Like I said, Gauthier was there, and he agreed to start putting together a deal to help Quinten’s younger brother with a shorter stint.”

“In exchange for?” Cole asked.

“Whatever information he has on the missing money.”

Cole leaned back in his chair. “From what we’ve seen, he doesn’t know much. Which was why he went after the Galloways in the first place. And brought Sal Bodin to Billy’s door.”

“You’re right, but his relationship with Galloway could shed light on the rest of Galloway’s business dealings. Gauthier hasn’t gone through all the files we pulled from their home, but what if Quinten knew more about him than we thought?” Remy asked. “We’re all but certain he took some of the files. Either Trent Galloway had them in his possession when he was shot, or Quinten got inside the home and took them himself. What I still can’t wrap my arms around is why wait until Peter Galloway was standing right outside Billy’s office to shoot him?”

“Well, the family was already familiar with Jackson Dupre, according to Billy. His father had done work with them. So, maybe it was a message to scare Billy. Especially if Quinten hadn’t known what transpired between the two,” Cole replied.

“To keep Galloway from talking further and, or, to scare Billy into silence,” Remy added.

“All right.” Cole pulled up in his chair. “Maybe Quinten can provide you with details not previously known. But what’s important here is that we know who else might come for the money with the Bodins behind bars. So, who else did business with them that would take on the risk?”

“Someone who agreed to that risk for a price.” Remy raised her brow. “Someone who was associated with the Bodins, Galloway, and Dupre.”

“Sounds reasonable.” He nodded. “Tomorrow you’ll sit down with Quinten and see what he can tell you.” Cole paused a moment. “In the meantime, we can build a list of associates who overlap. I’ll get a jump on that while you’re talking to Quinten.”

“Okay. I can get on board with that,” Remy replied.

“And Alex? Is he onboard?” Cole asked.

Remy reached around her neck and rubbed the back of it. “I told him I was leaving LBI. He, uh, doesn’t want me to go.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t,” Cole said. “Look, with all that went down over there. Hubert, and Gainor.” He shook his head. “I mean, Alex is a hell of a good guy and damn good at his job, but with him at the helm, Remy, I just don’t see how you move up.”

“I’m not looking to move up the ladder, Cole. I’m just trying to find my way. I never wanted to stop being a state trooper. Never even considered another gig until Hubert came along and convinced me I was made for the LBI’s fugitive unit. I went because I wanted a fresh start.” She raised her palms. “And yet, all I got was more of my past than I ever wanted. I just want to be done with all things Kyle DeChamp. And I think you’re the only one who gets that.”

He closed his eyes a moment and looked away. “Problem with you leaving LBI, Remy, is that you’ll no longer be in law enforcement. You can’t do what it is you want to do without a badge. It’s not safe and it sure as hell won’t be legal.”

“I thought about that,” she replied. “So, I guess maybe I’d like to take your boss up on his offer to meet. Think you can arrange that for me?”

* * *

It was Billy’s first day back at the office. Nevertheless, he didn’t have any intention of meeting with potential or existing clients.

“Billy?” Mya entered. “I’m heading home. Do you need anything else?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks for asking.”

“Okay.” She smiled at him. “It sure is good having you back. I’m sorry what you been through.”

“Thank you. It is good to be back. Drive safely. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he replied.

“Oh.” She disappeared for a moment and returned with envelopes. “I meant to bring you all the mail you received while you were . . . away.” She handed it over. “Okay, well, goodnight, Billy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After she’d left, Billy sorted through the various pieces of mail. Now that he’d been made partner, he got a lot more of it. His attention was diverted by senior partner Ronald Davis entering. “Hey, Ron. You heading home too?”

“Soon.” He walked inside and thumbed back. “I saw Mya leaving for the day.”

“Yeah, I suppose it’s about that time,” Billy replied.

Ron pulled out a chair and took a seat. He fixed his gaze on Billy. “Damn, I can’t believe what you suffered through, Bill.”

Billy raised his hands. “I’m doing much better now, but I appreciate the concern.”

Ron placed his elbows on his thighs. “Listen, uh, I was talking with the other partners earlier, and we’re wondering if it’s best you take a few more days off. Just to get some rest and take time to be with your family.”

“I’m okay, really, Ron. I want to be here. I need to be here,” Billy replied. “All this stuff that happened, it’s over now. They got the bad guys. There’s no reason I can’t move on and get things back to normal.”

Ron was quiet for a moment as he drew in a long deep breath. Billy waited for him to speak. “Is there something else? You look like you want to say something.”

“It’s just . . .” He pulled back up and tilted his head. “I should’ve given you a heads-up when I’d heard Galloway wanted to engage you for that car accident case.”

Billy’s face deadpanned. “Why would you say that? Ron, did you know him?”

“I knew of him,” Ron replied. “And that was because I knew your father.”

“What?” Billy’s eyes widened. “How did you know my dad?”

“From his time as a lawyer. I’d seen him in court a few times back when I was just getting started as a public defender. Long before I realized I could make more money in injury law.”

“And you never told me?” Billy pressed on. “Surely you realized he was my dad when I came to work here. The name would’ve given some clue.” He felt heat rise under his collar. “What is it you’re trying to say to me here, Ron? You knew Galloway. You knew my dad.”

“Yeah, uh, that’s why I figured it was time to come clean.” He appeared to study Billy’s face. “I never thought it would come to this.”

“Come to what?” Billy demanded.

“Back some time ago, I don’t know how old you were at the time, just a kid. Still are, to me anyway.”

“Go on,” Billy said.

“I’d gone to a mixer for a big-time law firm. They’ve since folded, probably because they kept throwing lavish parties.”

Billy closed his eyes as his patience grew thin. “Ron, please just get on with the story.”

“Right, sorry. Anyway, your dad was there. This was while he was still in practice, before he left to do other things. So, anyway, we got to talking and sort of became friends, I guess you could say. Not close, but you know, we’d go golfing once in a while.”

“All right.” Billy swallowed down his urge to strangle Ron right now if he didn’t get to the point.

“One day, we were having lunch, and this guy shows up to join us. His name was Peter Galloway.” Ron looked away. “Jackson asked if he could trust me to keep my mouth shut, and of course, I said yes. So, these two get to talking. Subject turns to money and how they’re basically fleecing some important family. I didn’t think much of it at the time. The name certainly didn’t mean what it means today.”

“Oh, my God.”

Ron raised his hands. “Like I said, I was young and stupid. But those two kept talking. Galloway let slip that he’d opened up some overseas accounts.”

“And?”

“And that was it. Honestly, Billy, I damn near forgot all about that conversation because I never saw Galloway again. Then your dad left the business. But when Galloway showed up here that day, all the memories came flooding back.”

“And you chose to say nothing about this to me?” Billy scoffed. “I never even realized you knew my dad. But you two were friends? What the hell, man?”

“I know you’re pissed. You got every damn right to be. Thing is, Billy, I might’ve recalled a few more things here as of late. Since all that’s happened to you.”

“Such as?”

“Things that might shed light on why Galloway, and eventually Bodin, came to you in the first place.”

Billy raked his fingers through his hair. “God damn.” He set a firm gaze on Ron. “Then you better tell me everything you know. Right now.”

Chapter 18

It was exactly what Cole had wanted. Remy’s desire to join the Marshals had just become real. However, it would take time to make the transition. Not to mention, his boss would have to sign off on her medical. A chance existed that issue, alone, would give him pause. Then again, Cole had told him what Remy had been through since the shooting.

His phone rang while he sat at his desk. “Grayson here.”

“I’m getting pushback, man.”

It took him a minute to realize who the caller was. “Pushback from who?”

“My contact. Look, Cole, I’ve cleaned up as best I could, but if you want this to go away, you’re going to have to step in,” the man said.

“What do you mean? I did my part. I came through,” Cole replied.

“He wants more. You’re going to have to offer him more. If you don’t, this could be a bigger problem than you anticipated — for the both of us.”

“I need to see him now,” Cole said. “Make it happen. I’ll meet you in an hour.” He slammed down the phone. “Shit.”

Cole quickly gathered his things and headed out to his SUV. His day had just taken a dramatic turn for the worse. He’d told Remy he would start searching for associates, and now, all that would be put on hold to deal with a problem that never should have developed.

He started back to the Crescent City, a place he’d visited far too often lately. And he was never a fan of it to begin with. Still, this couldn’t wait. He drove into the city, and with it came the sounds of jazz music from open-air festivals, the smell of food from street vendors, and the noise of crowds that walked the avenues.

He continued through the Quarter and down Elysian Fields Avenue to the Seventh Ward. He soon arrived at his destination, outside the prying eyes of most people. The proposed meeting place was a small café off Hope Street, not far from the home improvement store.

It had just turned noon and Cole climbed down from his Tahoe and headed toward the entrance, greeted by the strong smell of coffee and the chatter of people. He quickly spotted his contact, a former inmate named Lance, and the associate who’d reneged on their deal: a guard from the prison. They were seated in a corner booth.

Cole quickly made his way to the table and shook hands with both men. “Good to see you, Lance.” He turned his attention to the prison guard. “Abe.”

“Take a seat, Cole. Thanks for coming down,” Lance said.

He was a thirty-four-year-old stocky man with a crew cut who’d served a five-year stint inside Elayn Hunt Correctional for wire fraud. Cole had been assigned to that case and made the arrest. After the man was released, he’d contacted Cole, asking for help with keeping out of trouble. Cole obliged and Lance was in his debt. It was only when DeChamp went inside that Cole called the marker.

“Abe and I appreciate you coming all this way to hash this out,” Lance continued.

Cole nodded, then peered around the café. “Right. So, tell me, what’s it going to take for you to finish the job you started, Abe?”

“We’ll start with the obvious,” Abe began. “I’m running short on funds. Your help with that will make it easier for me to finish the job.”

Cole grew defensive. “Okay, how much . . .”

The guard raised his hand. “Not only that, but I’m going to need some help myself. Got a charge coming my way. Could use your help making it disappear.”

“What kind of charge?” Cole asked.

Trafficking drugs into the prison.”

“Jesus!” Cole scoffed. “What do you think I am, a miracle worker?”

“I think you’re a man of means, Deputy Grayson,” Abe replied. “Lance speaks highly of you.”

Cole leaned back in his seat, his mind racing as he thought of a way to make this work. He had been placed in a vice and was getting squeezed. None of what happened could ever get out. He would have to cave to this asshole who wanted to change the terms of the deal.

“All right,” Cole said. “I’ll see what I can do. But it’s going to take some time. And I’m going to need proof that you did your part in erasing my history at Elayn Hunt Correctional.”

Abe nodded, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a flash drive. “I’ve got copies of what I’ve done to date. Only someone who was looking for you would find you right now. I’ll make the rest go away after you get my charges dropped and a few bucks put in my hands.”

Cole took the flash drive and slid it into his pocket. “I’m telling you right now, this is a big ask. How am I supposed to make that charge go away?”

Abe leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve got a contact in the DA’s office. He’ll be available to assist you, but again, it’ll cost.”

The vice tightened. Cole didn’t have another option as he peered at Lance, who had seemingly come to the same conclusion. “All right. Give me his name and we’ll work out the details. But I need to know that this is all going to go away. For good. You come back to me a third time . . .”

The guard raised his hands. “I’m a man of my word, Deputy Grayson. Take care of this, and I’ll finish things on my end, and you and I will part ways.”

Cole stood. “I’ll be in touch. And if either of you screws me over, you’ll have a lot more to worry about than just your legal troubles.”

* * *

Billy made the call to Claire, telling her he was going for a drink with Ron. He didn’t tell her why, of course. She couldn’t know about any of this yet, not until he got to the bottom of it, which was exactly what he intended to do now.

He waited at the bar as the bartender handed over two bottles of beer. “Thanks,” Billy said before returning to the hi-top table where Ron sat. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Ron said.

As Billy sat across from him, he took a long drink from the bottle.

“So, what exactly do you know about my father’s business with Peter Galloway?”

Ron took a deep breath as though preparing to unleash a long-winded reply. “It was about fifteen years ago when I watched your father defend Bodin Enterprises in court. Salvatore, the head of the family, was charged under the RICO act, and your father was on the legal team.” He took a sip of his beer.

“I would’ve been just a teenager then,” Billy added.

“Right. I remember sitting in the courtroom and listening to the arguments. I thought, no way is Bodin getting off these charges. It was a big case at the time, and as a young lawyer, it drew my interest. Anyway, the defense did their best to ensure Bodin Enterprises wasn’t shut down as a result. As you know, a RICO charge is relatively easy to prove in court because it isn’t solely based on criminal acts, but patterns.”

“I’m aware,” Billy replied. “But let’s fast-forward a bit. What do you know about what happened after my dad lost his license?”

“Like I said before, I met him through a mixer and got to know Peter Galloway a little too. I knew they were skimming from their clients and suspected one of them was Bodin Enterprises.” Ron tossed back another swig. “I didn’t want anything to do with either of them after that, and as it turned out, Jackson died only a few years later. But that was a long time ago.”

Billy remained quiet for a few moments, processing all of the information. “When my dad passed away, do you know what happened to Galloway?”

“No, I was busy building my law practice and had no intention of getting tangled up with Peter Galloway. I eventually forgot all about him.”

Billy considered how his father had died. A heart attack, they said. But was that true, or had someone made it look like a heart attack? Someone like Galloway? “Peter Galloway, I assume, took over the business.” He looked away a moment. “I don’t even know if my mother knew any of this. All I knew was that Dad was gone and she didn’t have to worry about money.”

“Like I said, Billy, I stepped as far away from that situation as I could. So, when Galloway showed up, I didn’t know what the hell to think.” Ron glanced away. “I didn’t get the chance to ask you how the meeting with him went because the guy was shot down minutes later.”

“So, you said nothing at all?”

“I didn’t know what to say and then you disappeared for a few days—”

“Because Sal Bodin came to me at the office,” Billy shot back.

Ron eyed his now empty beer bottle. “All I can say is that Galloway had to have tracked you down. Maybe he was still screwing over the Bodins, and they found out. Of course, they knew Jackson well enough. The thing is, you never should’ve been pulled into any of it, Billy.”

“I tried to make them understand that I wasn’t part of Jackson’s business or Galloway’s.” Billy shrugged. “I didn’t know about any of this.”

“Well, it’s clear they think you do,” Ron replied.

Billy considered his situation. “This money you overheard them talking about . . . overseas accounts. Is it possible to find out if they’re still active?”

Ron appeared to ponder the question for a moment, stroking his lightly stubbled chin. “Well, if they exist and are still active, there would be a way of tracking them down. Depending on where they’re located, there may be some limits as to what information you can access. But typically, the banks register overseas bank accounts to prevent money laundering and other illegal activities. Even if the accounts are held by a proxy, the information should still be available — provided you know who to ask and how to ask for it.”

Ron reached for his wallet. “Your best bet is to contact a financial services firm that specializes in international banking and ask if they can provide you with steps to access accounts. They may require you to fill out some forms or provide some documentation to prove who you are, but usually, they’ll be willing to cooperate.” He tossed a twenty onto the table. “No matter what, though, it’s important to remember that if you’re looking for these accounts, there is a process in place to protect them from fraud, so you’ll need to work within the confines of the law.”

Billy finished the last of his beer. “Sounds like I have some work ahead of me.”

“After everything you’ve already been through, why don’t you let the authorities handle this?” Ron asked. “Look at you right now. Do you really want to keep going down this rabbit hole?”

* * *

Remy stepped inside Gauthier’s gray Dodge Durango and buckled her seatbelt. After a restless night pondering whether she’d made the right decision about leaving LBI, even with the unknown regarding the Marshals, answers from Quinten were her first priority. That was where they were now headed — back to the federal prison to tell Quinten a deal had been reached. And all he needed to do was accept it.

When Gauthier fell quiet a moment, Remy wondered if he might ask the obvious. Why she walked with a cane. Not unusual in her line of work. Lots of law enforcement got hurt in the line of duty every day. Tim Castellano, who’d been a wonderful friend after the death of Max Pena, wore a leg brace. Of course, his law enforcement career was over because of it.

Except for Remy. Her injury hadn’t been in the line of duty. And then Gauthier asked the question.

“So, Fontaine, what happened to you?” He glanced at her. “The cane.”

She peered out to the road ahead. “I was shot in the chest, paralyzed for several months.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be,” Remy replied. “I sent an evil man back to where he belonged. He didn’t like me much after that.”

Gauthier looked out of the driver’s side window and then back at Remy. “Kyle DeChamp?” he asked sheepishly. “Sorry, word gets around, Fontaine. Listen, you don’t have to talk about it if—”

“It’s all right,” she said. “He was a piece of shit. Trafficking women and girls. I figured the price I paid was a lot smaller than the price those innocent women paid.”

“Guy’s dead now, I hear,” Gauthier added.

“He got what he deserved in the end,” she replied, gazing out of the passenger window. Remy managed a smile and said nothing else as the car rolled along.

They soon arrived at the facility and Remy stepped out into a dull gray morning. The air was a little cooler and slightly damp, like rain was about to fall. The smell of earth lingered.

“The DA agreed to reduced charges for Vince Bodin,” Gauthier said as he walked around to meet her. “So, we present the offer to Quinten and hope he bites.”

Inside, they went through the same process as before. Getting through the several layers of security until finally reaching the entrance to the cells.

Remy steadied herself, feeling more confident today. And even with little sleep, her mind was clear. Perhaps making the decision to move on from LBI showed her the way to get where she needed to be.

“We’re here to see Quinten Bodin.” Gauthier signed the paperwork, and the guard showed them inside.

Quinten had been taken to a private room, chained to the table, and a guard waited inside with him.

Remy and Gauthier entered the room. She caught Quinten’s expression. He looked like he’d won. Like he was the guy who got what he wanted from the cops. Maybe he was.

“Good morning, Mr. Bodin.” Gauthier dropped the papers onto the table. “This is your deal. Signed and approved by the district attorney. So, before we move on, are you ready to talk?”

He eyed Remy a moment. “You don’t get to be a member of the Bodin family inner circle without knowing a lot of people.”

Remy locked eyes with him but said nothing.

“I knew DeChamp,” Quinten continued. “Well, I knew of him. His people were good to my family. We did business together at times.”

“Is this supposed to mean something to me?” Remy asked.

He scoffed. “Just want to make sure I don’t end up like him after getting tangled up with you, Agent Fontaine.”

Gauthier eyed her before he took a seat. “Why don’t you worry about your own situation for now, yeah?”

Remy sat down. “Are you ready to tell us what you know about Peter Galloway and the money he stole from your family? Is that why you killed him and his son?”

Quinten shifted in his chair, yanking on the cuffs that kept his hands on the table. “I got wind Galloway was preparing to move things around.”

“And that means what, exactly?” Gauthier asked.

“It means he was planning on cashing out. We no longer required his services. The man was a thief. Took a long time to figure it out. He was good, and so was his partner.”

“Jackson Dupre,” Remy cut in.

“That’s right. Since Dupre died, Galloway’s been running the show. Keeping a low profile. But when we got wind he was preparing to close up shop and my family still hadn’t recovered the money, it was time to take action.” He glared at Remy. “And by that, I mean, prepare to press charges against him.”

“I’m sure,” Remy said. “Peter Galloway was involved in a fairly serious car accident a couple weeks or so before he was gunned down. Did you arrange for Galloway to get hit in that car accident? Were you trying to scare him or kill him?”

Quinten scoffed in reply.

“But I’ll bet he wasn’t supposed to survive it,” she added. “Although, you would’ve lost the money for sure if that happened. So, when the man shows up to supposedly hire an accident lawyer, it took you a while to realize the lawyer was a Dupre.”

“Sounds like you know an awful lot about things, Agent Fontaine,” he replied. “All I wanted was to get justice for my family’s business.”

“And you thought, with Galloway meeting the son of his dead partner, that son might have information,” Gauthier cut in. “So, you went after him.”

Quinten licked his lips and smiled. “Do you want to know where I think the money is, or is this a recap of a story you like to tell about my life?”

“Where’s the money?” Remy pressed on. “More importantly, is anyone else after it?”

Chapter 19

Quinten Bodin’s actions, to date, made it clear he didn’t know where to find the money. Hunting down and murdering Peter Galloway would’ve been unnecessary if he had. However, his motive for murder might have been to prevent Galloway from exposing the family in his civil trial, for which he’d engaged Billy Dupre. So, while Remy waited for his response, she wasn’t sure what she would get or if it would help.

“We’ve been going back and forth for the better part of thirty minutes,” Remy began. “Who else knows about this money? Is that why you killed Galloway?”

Quinten ticked up the corner of his mouth. “You think I’m going to confess to murder right here and now?” He scoffed. “I don’t know anything about Galloway’s murder, but I do know there’s not a chance in hell he wasn’t aware that Jackson Dupre’s son worked at that law firm.” He slumped back in the chair as though he hadn’t a care in the world. “You want to know what I think?”

Gauthier appeared to grow tired of the circular conversation. “Your deal hinges on it, so yeah, tell us what you think.”

“My dad never did business with anyone without knowing who they were, who their associates were, and their reasons behind wanting to work for the family. Jackson Dupre had represented my father and so he trusted him when he recommended that Galloway be our accountant.”

Remy marveled how Billy was so different from his father. “Go on.”

“The two of them eventually joined up to create Galloway and Dupre. Dupre died a few years later, but Galloway stayed on,” Quinten added. “By that point, he’d been entrusted with the family’s financial affairs for some time. But last year was when we noticed it. I was just a kid when Galloway came into the family, but it turned out he’d been skimming off the top for years. He and Dupre.”

“Is embezzling from a criminal organization an actual crime?” Gauthier asked sarcastically.

Remy shot him a glance. “This isn’t story hour, Quinten. We know this part. Who else knew it?”

“Ronald Davis,” he replied. “Some dude who knew Jackson, and I think he used him to some extent to help them hide the cash. I don’t know for sure, but if anyone else knows where it is, it’ll be Davis.”

“Where’s Ronald Davis now?” Gauthier asked.

Confusion masked Quinten’s face. “He’s the head honcho over at that law firm where Jackson’s son works. I’m pretty sure that was why Galloway went there. Too many signs pointed to Billy Dupre.” He shrugged. “We recently figured they were all in it together.”

The only thing working in Remy’s favor right now was that it didn’t appear Quinten knew Billy was married to her sister. With the Bodins in jail and Galloway dead, well, she didn’t think they’d give any further thought to finding the connection. Ronald Davis was an unfamiliar name. It would only take a call to Billy to confirm.

“So, you’re telling me that Ronald Davis may be the last person standing who knows about the money?”

“That’s what I’m saying.” He tilted his head. “You get to him; you might get to the money.”

Remy stood from the chair and grabbed her cane.

“But remember one thing, Agent Fontaine,” Quinten cut in. “That’s our money. And we will get it back. You think us being on the inside is going to stop that? We have a much greater reach than you could ever know.”

She eyed Gauthier. “I’ll meet you out front.”

He appeared baffled by her sudden departure. “Yeah, sure.”

Remy left the room and went back through the maze until she reached the lobby again. She retrieved her phone and made the call. “Come on, Billy. Answer.” When the call went to voicemail, she tried Claire. “Claire, it’s me.”

“Remy, is everything okay?” she asked.

After what her sister had been through, Remy had to choose her words carefully. Panicking her again would set off a chain of events she couldn’t afford. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Listen, I just tried to get hold of Billy. Is he working today?”

“Yeah. But it’s lunchtime, so he might have gone out to eat. Why? What’d you need him for?”

“It’s part of the Bodin investigation. I need to know the names of the partners in Billy’s law firm.”

“Oh, okay. What for?”

Remy closed her eyes, regretting the lie she was about to tell. “We’re going to make sure the entire firm is covered if Quinten’s lawyer tries anything funny. Galloway was shot in front of their offices, so it’s best we keep the partners’ names out of anything tied to the Bodin family.”

“Yeah, okay.” Claire took a moment as if to recall the names, then began to count them off.

It was the last name she mentioned that caught Remy’s attention. “I’m sorry, did you say Ronald Davis?”

“That’s right, he’s the senior partner. He’s the one who initially brought on Billy and made him partner a few months ago,” Claire replied.

“Good. Okay. That’s exactly what I needed to know. Thanks, Claire.”

“Should I call Billy and tell him to contact you?” she asked.

“No. No, that’s fine. I’m good for now. Hey, I’ll try to swing by tonight, okay?”

“You should get your rest, Remy. We’ll be fine. I’m doing much better today.”

“All right. Then I’ll talk to you later, Claire. Bye.” Remy ended the call and stood in disbelief. “Davis.”

* * *

A significant hurdle may yet stand in the way of Remy coming on board as a Deputy US Marshal. Her law enforcement background exceeded the job requirements. But the physical fitness evaluation could scuttle all hope of acceptance.

Associate Director Bautista was already well aware of her situation and was still prepared to lend his approval, but Cole’s supervisor might feel differently. And he wouldn’t appreciate his subordinates going over his head on the matter. Not to mention, if word reached US Marshal Dean White, who ran the Middle District, Cole might as well write up disciplinary action for himself.

Cole stepped in front of Sutton’s office. “Afternoon, sir. Do you have a minute?”

“Grayson, come in.” Investigative Director of Operations James Sutton closed his laptop. “What can I do for you?”

“Remy Fontaine.” Cole pulled out a chair. “Bautista has expressed interest in poaching her from the LBI, and she’s interested. However, I thought it best to speak to you about it. Bautista does have some reservations.”

Sutton had round shoulders and soft facial features. Middle-aged with light brown hair, he was home-grown and spoke with a slight Creole accent. “Such as?”

“I don’t know how much you’re aware of the Kyle DeChamp takedown six months ago—”

“Well aware since you had your hands in it. Unbeknownst to me.”

“To some degree, yes, sir.” Cole cleared his throat to dismiss the awkward exchange. “Agent Fontaine was shot shortly after DeChamp returned to prison. He ordered the hit. She was paralyzed but has since regained her ability to walk. She continues to improve with ongoing physical therapy.”

“The criteria to become a Deputy US Marshal hinges upon successful completion of a physical evaluation. Are you telling me she would fail?”

“As it stands right now, yes, sir,” he replied. “But Bautista knows her history. Knows how good she is at her job. She was a state trooper for ten years in addition to her time inside the LBI.”

Sutton pressed his lips into a thin line and drew in a breath through his nose. “In your opinion, is this a job she’s physically able to handle? And I need you to be honest with me, Grayson. You know what it takes to be successful here. Is she up to the challenge in her current state?”

“I won’t lie to you, sir. It’ll be some time before she’s fully recovered. I realize this means she might be better suited to operating on the admin side for a while. But I would guess, in the next six months, you’d see a significant improvement in her abilities.”

“So, she can’t exactly hit the ground running?” he asked.

“Not yet, sir. No. But as you know, this job doesn’t always require a heavy physical load. We do plenty with Wit Sec, coordinating asset seizure, working with the Treasury Department. These are things Fontaine is more than capable of handling. And when the time comes, she can be more active in the field.” He paused a moment. “She’s still young, sir. She still has a full career ahead of her.”

Sutton appeared to consider Cole’s plea. “And Bautista is behind this hire?”

“He is, sir, yes.”

“Set up a time I can meet with her. I’ll see what it is she’s looking for from us, as well as give her the expectations we’ll have of her.” He raised his hands. “I’m not promising anything, but we’ll see if she might be a good fit for us here.”

Cole got to his feet. “I’ll arrange it. Thank you for the opportunity, sir.” As he started out into the hall, he spotted Bautista approach. They were almost face to face when the associate director stopped him.

“We need to talk. Now.”

Cole turned on his heel and followed Bautista to his office. He thought he’d cleared one hurdle but now he was already onto the next. Once inside, he stood at attention.

“Sit down, Grayson,” Bautista said, taking a seat at his desk. After Cole sat, he continued. “Where are we at on the allegations regarding Kyle DeChamp’s murder?”

“As far as I know, sir, nothing exists that even hints I had anything to do with it, which is what I insisted from the beginning.”

“Nothing?” He eyed Cole. “Not a damn thing that anyone from someone outside the agency might uncover?”

“No, sir. Nothing.” He hoped his face wouldn’t betray him. “This is a closed book now, sir.”

Bautista eyed him. “Okay. Then we’ll wrap up our internal investigation and provide a report to Marshal Valdez. You say you’ve got no ties to that entire situation; I believe you. Just make sure everyone else does too, Grayson. You understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Cole had been dismissed. He returned to his office and closed the door. Bautista clearly knew there was more to the situation than what appeared at face value. And he’d just issued a warning to Cole that he had better make this disappear.

He returned to his desk and snatched his phone, feeling sweat form on his neckline as he prepared to make the call.

“New Orleans Parish Police. How can I help you?” the woman asked.

“Yeah, this is Deputy US Marshal Grayson. I need to request a case file on Abe Flores for a pending drug trafficking charge. Who’s the detective in charge of that investigation?” He heard the sound of keys being punched on a keyboard.

“Looks like it’s being handled by Detective Webre. I’ll patch you through.”

“Thank you.” Cole waited on the line only a moment.

“Webre here,” he answered.

“Hello, I’m Deputy US Marshal Cole Grayson. I’d like to request your case file on an Abe Flores. He’s currently under investigation for trafficking drugs into Elayn Hunt Correctional.”

“What do you need it for? It’s a little outside your jurisdiction, isn’t it, Deputy Grayson?”

“Normally I’d say yes, but this ties in with the murder of Kyle DeChamp inside the prison.”

“Again, I’m not sure how this pertains to you; pardon my ignorance.”

Cole grew frustrated by the detective’s stonewalling, even if the man was right to push back. “I was part of the investigation that sent DeChamp back behind bars. I need to know who murdered him. So, you can help me and maybe we can help each other, or I can go over your head and get what I need.”

The detective paused a moment. “I’ll send the file right over to you . . . sir.”

* * *

Remy drove to Billy’s office and spotted his Range Rover in the parking lot. “There you are.” She stepped out and walked inside the modern lobby of the law office.

It was sleek and minimalist with polished marble floors, white walls with abstract artwork, and comfortable leather couches with glass coffee tables. A reception desk lay a few feet ahead with a large flat-screen television behind it.

“Hello, I’m here to see Billy Dupre,” Remy said.

“Hi there,” a pretty girl with big eyes and short black hair replied. “Is Mr. Dupre expecting you?”

“No, but I’m his sister-in-law. He’ll want to see me.”

“Of course.” She picked up the phone. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”

“Thanks.” Remy turned away and studied the abstract pictures. She wasn’t much of an art enthusiast, but they were nice enough. All she could think now was that Billy was a target and it had nothing to do with the Bodins. But if Ronald Davis knew something, had he brought on Billy for the sole reason that Jackson Dupre was his father?

“Remy?” Billy appeared, tugging on his gray suit jacket. “What are you doing here? Is Claire okay? Isaiah?” Panic imbued his eyes, and after what he’d been through, it was understandable.

“Everyone’s fine. Do you think we could talk in your office?”

“Sure. Come on back.”

Remy followed him. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been here before, have I?”

He walked into his office and turned back to her. “As a matter of fact, you haven’t. But I’m glad you’re here now. Take a seat.” He closed the door and sat at his desk.

Remy walked over to the window. “This is where it happened? Galloway?”

“That’s it. So, what’s going on, Remy? Why’d you drive all the way to Lafayette in the middle of the day?”

She turned away from the window and sat on a nearby chair. “Detective Gauthier and I were speaking with Quinten Bodin this morning. He’s been offered a deal . . .”

“Jesus, are you serious? After what that man’s done? After the way his family intimidated me?”

“For what he did to the Galloways, he should be in prison. And he will be. But I’m here for another reason.”

“Go on then.”

“He was offered a plea deal. His brother will get a reduced sentence if he presents information on anyone else who knows about the money Galloway and Jackson skimmed off the Bodins. They’ve been looking for some time, from what I understand. And they have a pretty good idea how this all transpired.”

Billy leaned back and crossed his arms.

Remy noticed how hard he tried not to let her see his fear. “So, uh, Quinten did give us a name.”

“Who?”

Remy hesitated.

“Remy, who did he say might still come after me for money I know nothing about?”

She glanced at the door to Billy’s office as though it might open at any moment. Quickly, she returned her attention and locked eyes with him. “Ronald Davis.”

Billy lowered his chin. “What?”

“Ronald Davis. Your firm’s senior partner. The man who hired you. The man who promoted you.”

Billy looked at his door, his gaze turning fearful.

“Is he here?” Remy asked.

Billy nodded. “We had lunch today. He wanted to talk to me and then went into how he’d been lying to me. That he knew my father. And that he hired me knowing who my father was and who he did business with.”

“Oh my God,” Remy said.

“He even told me that he knew Galloway. Now you’re telling me he knows about the money?”

“It looks that way, Billy, yes,” Remy said. “Which means I’m going to need your help.”

“I’m not leaving, Remy. No way am I putting Claire and Isaiah through that again.”

“You don’t have to,” she replied. “But I’m going to need your help to find out what Davis knows and whether he plans on taking action to get the money. He might decide that now’s the time, considering the Bodin family is out of the way.”

“My God. I can’t believe this is happening,” Billy said. “He came to me just this morning. Started going on about how he’d admired my dad’s work. Then how he became friends with him. At that point, I asked to take him to lunch. I didn’t want to keep discussing it in the office.” Billy took a breath. “He obviously knew I’d been away for certain reasons. He started asking about Galloway and then told me how he knew Galloway too. My head spun. I didn’t know what the hell to think. Finally, he goes into how I can find whatever money is out there on my own.”

“He volunteered that information to you?” Remy asked.

“He did. Why do you suppose that was?”

Remy considered Davis’s motive. “Best guess? He doesn’t know how to get it, either. And maybe he figures if you find it, given your last name, it’s possible the money would be released to you as your father’s heir.”

“So, he planned on waiting for me to find it. Then what? He’ll plan on killing me for it?” Billy’s voice fractured.

Remy raised her hands. “Let’s take a step back, Billy, okay? Look, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. But what I will need is for you to tell me step by step the process for finding this money. If Davis knows how to get it, we’ll use that to our advantage.”

“And if we find it; what then, Remy?”

Chapter 20

As much as Remy hated to hold back anything from her sister, the best thing for Claire was to remain in the dark about this situation. At least for now, until Remy could get a grip on how to approach it.

She’d told Billy to go home. To not say a word and just go about things as he normally would. He’d relayed to her the best way to learn whether these foreign accounts existed, which seemed likely, and how to gain access to them.

But it was late. She was exhausted. Worst of all, she hadn’t spoken to Alex. Not since she spoke of wanting to resign from the LBI. Guilt weighed on her shoulders, but to deal with this now, well, it was going to have to be put on the back burner.

However, she had reached out to the one person she’d pushed away for months. The one person who she needed most right now. And as the knock sounded on her door, she knew it was him.

Remy walked through the narrow hall that led to the apartment door. Sometimes, she would flash back to that night — slumped on this very floor on the verge of death when he walked in. She’d seen the look on his face and knew she was about to die. But instead, he’d saved her. And for all his kindness then and in the days since, she’d rewarded him by sending him away.

Remy opened the door. “Hi.”

“Hey. Thanks for the invite,” Cole replied.

“Come in.” Remy closed the door behind him. “I think I have some beer.”

“I remember where you keep it.” Cole walked into the tiny kitchen and opened the fridge. “In stock and ready to go. You want one?”

“No, thanks. I just took some pain meds.”

He twisted off the bottle top and carried on toward the living room, where Remy sat on the sofa. “You’re back on them?”

“Only when absolutely necessary.”

Cole sat down next to her. “What is it you wanted to see me about?”

“I learned something today about Billy’s law firm.”

He tossed back a swig from the bottle. “I’m listening.”

“The senior partner knew Billy’s father back in the day. He knew Galloway too.” Remy filled him in on what Billy had relayed. Including the details about how he should go about finding the money. And what they would do next.

“I have plenty of contacts at the Treasury Department,” Cole said. “It would be easy enough to get some help from them. They have access to the bank’s Suspicious Activity Reports. All the regulatory information. It would be a good place to get some answers.”

She grinned. “I knew you’d be able to toss me a bone. Do you think we should do something to protect Billy?”

“Hard to say,” Cole replied. “Doing so draws attention. This Davis guy might decide to take action if he sees that, although that doesn’t seem likely. I think the best thing for Billy to do is to keep the status quo.”

“That’s pretty much what I told him,” Remy said.

“Then we’re on the same page.” Cole set down his beer. “I did get a chance to connect with my supervisor. He’s interested in meeting with you tomorrow. With everything going on, do you think you have time to squeeze it in?”

She paused for too long. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Cole cocked his head. “You’re not reconsidering, are you?”

“No, it’s not that. I just, well, I haven’t talked to Alex today and it just feels strange. I miss him, Cole. I know you don’t have a partner, per se, but I did. And I know my decision broke his heart.”

“Then go see him. Alex Chasse is nothing if not a reasonable man. I’ve seen it myself. Don’t let this ruin the friendship. And let’s not forget how many times you and I ended up working a case together. LBI and the Marshals’ jobs overlap. He needs to know that this isn’t goodbye. It’s a situation where the professional relationship changes. Not the personal one. If you clear that up with him, he’ll understand, Remy. He wants what’s best for you. Same as me.”

She gazed into his light blue eyes, and all those feelings that she’d tried so hard to keep at bay flooded to the surface. “I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you, Cole. You deserved so much better from me. You saved my life.”

He took her hand. “Remy, I know you pushed me away out of fear. You didn’t want me to see you struggle to become yourself again. But you have to know that I wanted nothing more than to be at your side to help you through it all.”

“And I didn’t let you.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. And as she looked at him again, her heart ached. “I love you, Cole. I have for a long time.”

The emotions bubbling under the surface seemed to burst at once, and Remy laughed, a faint sound that filled the space. “It’s taken me far too long to get back to you but here I am.”

Cole interlaced his fingers with hers and brought her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. “I love you too, Remy. I always have.”

A weight lifted off her shoulders.

Cole’s gaze traveled from her eyes to her lips, and before she could stop him, he’d leaned in and kissed her. The kiss was soft and sweet, a reminder of the love they had both put on hold. Remy felt her body instinctively respond to his touch.

When they pulled apart, she looked into his eyes, wanting to make sure no hesitation or regret lingered. His intense gaze told her everything she needed to know. “Should we make up for lost time?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Cole grinned. “No time like the present.” He kissed her again and whispered, “I want to take you to bed.”

Remy smiled as he helped her to her feet. Together, they walked to her bedroom, their hands still intertwined.

Once inside, Cole shut the door, and Remy felt a wave of heat rush through her. He stepped close, their bodies almost touching, and placed a gentle hand on her cheek. She leaned into him, her lips parting slightly in anticipation.

He kissed her deeply, his lips caressing hers as if he had waited for this for an eternity. Remy felt lost in the moment, completely and utterly submerged in his love.

Their clothes fell away without hesitation, and soon they were together on the bed, exploring each other’s bodies with a newfound desire.

For Remy, the world had melted away, and all that existed was the two of them. It was as if the last six months had been a nightmare, and now, she was once again awake. The love that had been caged inside her heart for years, hidden away out of self-preservation, had finally been set free.

* * *

As the night arrived, Ronald Davis returned to the law offices he had started some twenty-five years ago. Stepping out of his white BMW 7 series, he walked to the door of the building and unlocked it. The alarm beeped and he headed to the front desk where the keypad lay behind it on the wall. He punched in the code and the alarm quieted.

He continued through the hall and reached Billy Dupre’s office. The young man had been through a great deal in the past few days. Something he hadn’t expected, nor wanted. Regardless, the time had now come to find out what he knew about his father’s accounts and how his LBI agent sister-in-law had helped him today. Her arrival had been noticeable as she hobbled through the office.

Ronald moved across the office, searching through the various reports and documents that Billy had collected over the years. He found nothing to suggest any information concerning his father nor any link to his sister-in-law.

Still, he dove deeper, searching the documents and files more thoroughly in the hopes that he might uncover something, anything, about Jackson Dupre’s accounts. He found financial documents, insurance papers, and other sundry papers, but there was still no mention of his father.

Ronald’s brow furrowed, his disappointment becoming tangible. He was so certain that one of Billy’s files would lead him to the answers he had sought for so long. But alas, he’d come up empty-handed and couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d come clean to Billy too soon. Maybe Billy had taken the opportunity to remove any and all things related to Jackson Dupre.

As he returned the files to their original places, Ronald knew he would have to look elsewhere. He continued into the hall and reached his office. The plush surroundings included a deep leather chair and sofa, an ornate oriental rug, and large paintings on the walls.

He sat down at his hand-carved desk and recalled his last meeting with Jackson Dupre — only days before the man died.

The memory came flooding back to him. It had been a muggy summer night and they’d shared a few too many drinks at a local bar. By that point, Jackson had more money than he knew what to do with, thanks to his earlier partnership with Galloway.

Jackson had spoken about secret accounts containing the money he’d stashed away in overseas banks. Of course, Ronald already knew of their existence, but not that he and Galloway had still been at it, amassing a dangerous and hard-to-miss amount of money taken from a notorious crime family. He’d always wondered if Jackson’s supposed heart attack had actually been what killed him and not some other nefarious reason tied to the Bodins.

Ronald sifted through the information in his mind. He tried to remember it all, but as a man beyond middle-age now, the memories were much harder to recall. He sighed, resting his chin in his hands, and shifting his gaze to the window.

All of this remained the entire reason behind the hiring of Billy Dupre, at least, at first. The young lawyer was exceptional at his job. Ronald bided his time, but the arrival of Galloway had been unforeseen. His plan had to be expedited. So, he came clean to Billy in the hope the kid might join the hunt, and if he did so successfully, then maybe all was not lost for Ronald Davis. He only needed to stay in Billy’s good graces. The two could work together. And when the money was recovered, all Ronald had to do was inform the Bodins and collect on his finder’s fee.

* * *

Inside the darkened living room, Billy rested his arm around Claire as they sat on the sofa. Isaiah had, thankfully, already been put to bed. He’d tried to focus on the news broadcast, but his mind was consumed with all the things he never knew about his father. Had his mother known? It seemed impossible not to have. Now, disgraced attorney, Jackson Dupre, was nothing more than a thief in Billy’s eyes. A thief who’d taken money from dangerous people without regard for the impact it would have on his family.

He’d admired the man once. An absent father, to be sure, but he tried to make up for it by lavishing expensive gifts on his mother and extravagant toys on him. To say it hadn’t worked would be a lie. It had — mostly. But he never knew his father was a criminal. He never knew about Galloway. And now he wondered how much money was stashed away from the prying eyes of the government and the Bodins. What had brought Galloway to Billy still remained unclear. Had he been searching for the money? Had he wanted simply to tell Billy that it existed? Had he wanted to expose the Bodins? For reasons he would never learn, Galloway had come to him, and it cost him his life.

Dad deserved to die, he thought, casting his gaze at his beautiful wife. And now, he forced himself to keep this new information from her. Remy believed it would only worry her. Maybe she was right. Remy knew her sister pretty well, but Claire was his wife.

She appeared content with her head resting on his chest. Her presence calmed him like nothing else could.

She must’ve felt his stare. “Are you okay?”

“What’s that?” He captured her beautiful brown eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little preoccupied.”

Claire lifted her head. “About what?”

“Nothing, sweetheart. It’s nothing.”

“Billy, I know you better than that. Tell me what’s going on. We’ve been through too much lately to start keeping things from each other.”

“I was just thinking about my dad,” he said. “Just kind of wondering how he managed to keep this whole secret life from me and my mom.”

Claire’s eyes softened. “Your dad was always away a lot for work, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, but I guess it was just a front. I mean, I never suspected anything. When he lost his license, he told me and my mom that he’d given it up. That he’d wanted to go into a new business with a friend of his.” Billy scoffed. “He was so good at making it seem like all this money he’d made was just this great business venture he’d fallen into. It’s crazy to think that he lived this double life, and we had no idea.”

Claire lay her hand on his chest. “Sounds like he was better at lying than you gave him credit for.”

It was true. When there were too many questions for his father to answer about his frequent trips, he had a million lies ready to be told. Too many times, his dad said he was on business trips and at conferences, and Billy had believed him.

“I wonder if he ever regretted any of it?” Billy asked. “Did he ever think of his family and wish he could make up for it?”

Claire set her eyes on him. “You’re nothing like your dad, Billy. You’re a wonderful father to Isaiah. A wonderful husband to me. We will get through all this.”

He turned away. “Baby, I’m not so sure.”

Chapter 21

Remy had advised Billy to return to work as though nothing had changed. As though he hadn’t learned that Ronald Davis, the senior partner at his law firm, had his own secrets when it came to Jackson Dupre.

Now, she returned to FAU to try to smooth things over with Alex because she still needed his help, at least this one last time. Remy arrived at his office and stood in his doorway.

He drew his gaze to her and donned a somewhat despondent smile. “Hey, Remy. Come in.”

“Hi. Thanks.” She walked inside and sat down, letting out a deep sigh. “I owe you so much. You know that, right?”

He swatted away the notion. “You don’t owe me anything, Remy. Look, I get it. After what happened with Hubert, I don’t blame you for your decision to move on from this place. Honestly, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be sitting in this chair right now. So, if anything, it’s I who owe you. But that’s all beside the point now. I informed the team and got a mixed reaction. Mostly, they get it. They all understand. You’re not leaving here with any ill will toward you. I want you to know that.”

“Thank you, Alex. And I have no doubt our paths will cross again,” she replied.

“So, you are taking a job with the Marshals’ office?”

“Nothing’s set in stone,” Remy said. “I am concerned about their physical requirements, but regardless, my decision to leave here wasn’t contingent upon working there. I’ll know more after today. I’m supposed to sit down with the associate director of operations.”

“And how do you think that’ll be?” Alex tilted his head. “Working with someone you’re dating?”

“That’s a whole other issue, isn’t it?” She chuckled. “I . . . uh, I don’t know how that’s going to go or if it’s against the rules. I’ll find out soon enough. And I’ll be prepared for whatever they have to say on the matter.”

“Even if it means you and Cole might not be allowed to see each other?” Alex continued.

“You know I won’t let anyone stand in the way of my career.”

He smiled. “I do know that.” Alex cleared his throat in an apparent attempt to change the subject. “So, what is it I can do for you now, Remy?”

“I need your help,” she said, her face sheepish. “And trust me, I know I’m asking a lot under the circumstances.”

“What is it?” Alex asked. “Anything you need, Remy. You know I’ll do what I can, regardless of your decision to leave.”

She retrieved the file from her laptop bag. “It turns out that Billy’s senior partner knew Jackson Dupre and may have had a hand in either hiding the money or has done some digging of his own to find it.”

“I see. It sounds as though Billy was being used, not unlike your situation with Hubert,” Alex said.

“It does have a familiar tone, doesn’t it?” She laid out the reports on his desk. “We believe these three companies were created by Jackson Dupre and Peter Galloway as shell companies. All three are in the Caymans to this day. However, no one’s had access to the accounts. Not Galloway and not Ronald Davis at the law firm.”

“So, they’ve been sitting there, likely collecting interest, with no one watching the asset,” Alex said. “Okay, so what can I do to help?”

“Cole is going to request the FinCen files and gather any Suspicious Activity Reports filed against those bank accounts. That’ll go a long way to helping us identify who, if anyone, has accessed them in recent months or years,” Remy said. “LBI has the authority to probe into the financial records of Ronald Davis without raising the eyebrows that the Marshals might.”

“You want us to pull a background, financial, criminal, all of that on Davis?” Alex asked.

“Yes. I also want to see his business filings in the state of Louisiana. I want to know if he has any silent partners or shell companies of his own. But I’m not farming this out. I want to be in on it. Technically, LBI still employs me.” She shrugged. “What do you think?”

“I think we can work on that together if you’d like. I know I would,” Alex said.

She returned a gentle smile. “I’d like that too.”

* * *

Cole received the case file the reluctant detective had gathered on Abe Flores. He knew he’d overstepped, even if the Marshals maintained the broadest authority among all of federal law enforcement. But burning bridges with the local police was never a good idea, especially not the New Orleans Police Department.

He examined the evidence they had on the prison guard, and based on what he’d read, it was an open and shut case. Abe Flores was guilty. Now, Cole faced a pivotal moment in his career as his chances of walking away unscathed grew slimmer. This went against everything he’d ever stood for, but he’d brought it on himself. Now, it was time to pay the price for his actions.

It was a tricky balancing act; one wrong move could have dire consequences. If Cole exposed himself and former inmate Lance Deveraux in the process, neither would see the outside of prison walls again. And Abe Flores would probably end up as his cellmate. So how would Cole keep the guard from facing these trafficking charges?

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. Still, he regretted none of it. After DeChamp had ordered the hit on Remy, the son of a bitch deserved to die. It wasn’t a position a Deputy US Marshal should hold, and that wasn’t lost on him. Here he was, doing everything in his power to bring Remy on board when he had no right to be here himself. How could he feel so guilty yet so righteous? Cole breathed deeply and shut his eyes, trying to focus his mind. Then it hit him.

He picked up the phone and dialed the number. It rang once. Twice. Three times. Finally, he heard a gruff “hello,” on the other end of the line.

“Listen, I know we haven’t seen eye to eye on—”

“What do you want, Cole?”

He took a deep breath. “I need your help. I have information on a prison trafficking operation. The guard involved is my only way out of something, but if he gets arrested, he’ll open his mouth about a lot of things that will be very bad for me. I need his problems to go away, so mine will too. Unless you have a better idea.”

Silence persisted on the other end of the line. Cole waited, his heart racing.

“You realize what you’re asking, don’t you? Who’s running the trafficking investigation?”

“Detective Webre, NOPD,” Cole replied.

“Jesus Christ. NOPD?”

Cole closed his eyes a moment. “He sent over the files and I’m reviewing them now. He’s got a strong case, but it’s dependent on an ex-con’s testimony. What can we do to keep that con from testifying?” His chances grew even slimmer when he heard laughter on the line.

“You’re asking for a lot, Cole. But . . . I may have a way. Send me everything you have on this prison guard. Never mind his pending charges. No way you’ll get around that unless you want to be charged with witness tampering on top of everything else you’re not telling me. Let me do some research and make some calls. I’m not promising you Jack, but I’ll give you the courtesy of checking it out. You’re right about one thing, we don’t see eye to eye on much. But I know you wouldn’t have done whatever it was you did unless you thought it was your last resort. And you’d do the same for me.”

“You know I would.” A glimmer of hope stirred inside him.

“All right. And just so you know, we’re square after this.”

“Understood. Thank you.” He ended the call.

This wasn’t over, not even close. Cole needed to have a Plan B. He had to pony up the money Flores demanded in the event everything else turned south. Money he didn’t have. That was another problem.

* * *

With the Bodin family out of the way — at least until Gauthier could prove Quinten Bodin committed murder, and Montenegro had built a solid case of drug trafficking — this entire situation involving Billy and Claire was supposed to have been sidetracked. But as Remy worked alongside Alex to learn more about Ronald Davis, it felt as though they’d traded one problem for another.

They huddled inside the operations room. It was brightly lit with white walls and a large central table. A video screen was mounted on the back wall and used when mapping out an operation. Remy and Alex sat at the table across from each other as they discussed their findings.

“Davis’s past isn’t what I thought it would be,” Remy began. “Accident lawyers are their own breed, but this guy makes the rest of them look like Boy Scouts.” She scrolled through the information on her laptop. “Several complaints lodged against him from former clients saying he kept money from them. Then you have a couple of his court cases that were dismissed for misconduct.” She glanced at Alex. “How the hell did this guy run his own law firm for this long?”

“Because it looks like he’s not a majority owner.” Alex turned his laptop to face her. “The other two partners are split with a thirty percent share each. Then you have Billy, who owns twenty percent.”

“Leaving Davis with only twenty percent of the company he started,” Remy cut in. “Why would he do that?”

“Regulatory filings is my guess,” Alex said. “It keeps Davis from being the primary focus of his business. He did it this way on purpose.”

“What did you find on the shell companies?” Remy asked.

“Two indicate he was part-owner, again, minority, not majority stake. Each is based out of Europe. Bulgaria, to be precise.”

“So that’s probably a good place to start looking for these bank accounts,” Remy said. “We thought they originated from the Caymans, but maybe not.”

“I’d still start with that,” Alex said. “I can run the FinCen reports on these companies and find out where they’re banking. That’ll give us the answers we need.” Alex keyed in the search. “Okay, here we go. Yeah, we have one account in the Caymans.” He typed on his keyboard once again. “Let me just see what I can find quickly here.” He nodded as a few moments went by. “Remy, I think I got it.” Alex moved around the table and pulled his laptop closer. “Take a look.”

She examined the details on the screen. “Oh my God. I think this could be the missing money. The account holder is Jackson Dupre.” She shot him a glance. “You found one of the accounts, Alex.”

“This is only the first part of it. It’ll take time to get the bank to cooperate with us and give us the information we need. And there are bound to be others.”

“But what did Davis hope to gain here? His name isn’t on this.”

“No, but if Billy is a beneficiary, it’s likely Davis intended on turning him over to Bodin for a price,” Alex replied.

Remy picked up her phone and pressed Billy’s contact. “I need to know where he’s at right now. I told him to go into work, but I’m starting to . . . “Billy? It’s me. Where are you?” She placed the call on speaker.

“I’m at the office, just like you said,” Billy replied. “Why? Is everything okay?”

“Have you seen Davis this morning?” Remy asked.

“No.”

“Can you find out if he’s there?”

“Sure. Let me check with the front desk.” The sound of him moving toward the front of the office carried through the line. In the background, she heard him ask the question. “Have you seen Ron today?”

The receptionist replied, “No.”

Billy carried on back into the hall. The sound of shuffling on the commercial-grade tile floors echoed on the line.

“Hey, Billy,” Remy asked.

“Yeah?”

“Check his office.”

“Okay.” He walked on in silence and the background noise settled. “I’m here. I’m turning on the light.” He went quiet for a moment.

“Billy?” She pressed on. “You still there?”

“I’m here, Remy. But Ron’s not. His office looks cleared out.”

She closed her eyes. “Are you telling me he’s gone?”

“It looks that way.”

She shot a look at Alex. “Okay. Sit tight, Billy. Don’t do anything. We’re going to find him.”

“What did he do, Remy? Did you find the money?”

“We think so, at least some of it. And Billy, we think you might be the beneficiary. Given you know Davis’s part in all this, he may be working to clean up loose ends and hand over everything he knows to Salvatore Bodin.”

His breath became audible through the line. “Is something going to happen to me again?”

She closed her eyes. “I don’t know, Billy. I don’t think so, but do me a favor? Keep up your guard. Don’t leave the office today. Give Alex and me some time to track him down.”

Chapter 22

Supposing the money had been found and Ronald Davis, a nobody as far as the Bodins were concerned, could bring that information to the family, suggested trouble for Billy. In that case, they might send someone after him for either the money or retribution. Maybe both.

The problem now was how would Remy find Davis? She sat in the passenger seat with Alex behind the wheel of his sedan. They drove to the first place they thought to find Davis — his home. And if he wasn’t there, maybe someone in his family knew where he’d gone.

“This sort of feels like old times, huh?” Remy asked, still gazing through the passenger window.

Alex glanced at her with a crooked smile. “Yes, it does. Feels pretty good too. Davis isn’t a fugitive, but he’s the closest thing we have to one.”

Remy grabbed her phone. “I should let Cole in on where things stand. He might be able to pull some strings and help us cover ground more quickly.”

“Remy, wait,” Alex said. “Why don’t you let us do our jobs before pulling in the Marshals? This isn’t their deal. They got credit for the Bodins. This is LBI.”

She lowered her phone. “You’re right. You’re the SAC. This is your case. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

Alex shrugged. “It’s all right. I appreciate you having my back.”

After a twenty-minute drive, the two arrived in a ritzy neighborhood in Lafayette. The house in front of them was an enormous two-story with a sprawling lush green garden.

Alex and Remy knocked on the door and a thin middle-aged woman with a pleasant face opened it. She was dressed in tailored gray slacks and a light blue blouse.

“Yes, can I help you?” the woman asked, appearing somewhat surprised.

“We’d like to talk to Ronald Davis. You must be Mrs. Davis.” Alex displayed his credentials. “We’re with the Louisiana Bureau of Investigation.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, I’m afraid you’ve come all this way for nothing. My husband is away on business. He left last night.”

“Do you know where he went?” Remy cut in. “Or how we could reach him?”

Mrs. Davis gave a blank stare. “No, I’m afraid not. I just know that he had a last-minute business trip.”

Alex and Remy exchanged a knowing look.

“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Remy asked the woman. “Any idea of where he was going?”

“As I said, it was for work,” she replied.

“Do you have any business contacts we could talk to in order to track him down?” Alex asked.

“Aside from his partners at the law firm. I don’t know who else could help you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Davis.” Alex raised his index finger. “Oh, there is one other thing. Your husband is the senior partner at the law firm. But I understand, before that, he worked with a man named Jackson Dupre. Do you know anything about that?”

“Only that he knew Jackson, did some side legal work for him when Ron had only just gotten his law license.” She folded her arms as though she’d grown chilled. “You’re starting to frighten me. Is my husband in some kind of trouble?”

Remy took a half-step forward. “Does he travel overseas at all?”

“Not in the last few years, I believe. Why do you ask?”

“Does he have associates overseas?” Remy continued.

“I honestly don’t know.”

Remy needed to get her point across without raising alarm bells with the wife. She and Alex had no legal standing to ask the question that was about to come, so Remy would have to shift her stance. Get the wife to see that danger for her husband lurked, but the LBI could help him.

“I know this is out of the blue, Mrs. Davis, and you certainly don’t have to agree to it, but would you mind if we had a look around your husband’s home office?”

“What for?” Her tone hardened.

“You asked if he might be in some kind of trouble,” Remy began. “It’s possible that he is. And the only way we’ll be able to keep him safe from some very dangerous people is to be the ones to find him first. Can you help us with that?”

Mrs. Davis sighed in defeat. “Yes, I can help. Follow me.” She led Remy and Alex up the stairs to the second floor and opened the door to her husband’s home office. A plain but well-organized room with a desk, some scattered bookshelves, and a filing cabinet.

Remy knew that at any moment the woman could demand a warrant, which they didn’t have. But so far, she’d granted them access, so she and Alex began their search while Mrs. Davis lingered in the background. “I see several client files from the current law firm.”

“Same here,” Alex replied.

Finally, Remy found a file labeled “Jackson Dupre.”

“Hang on. I have something here. Take a look.” Remy set down the folder on top of the desk and Alex joined her. She opened it. “What the hell is this?” Remy picked up a document. “It looks like a contract between Davis and Dupre. Davis would provide his services in exchange for a percentage of the money once it had been returned to the US. It’s signed by both parties.”

Alex turned around to the woman in the doorway. “Mrs. Davis, do you know if your husband has banking accounts that excluded you?”

“I have no idea. I wouldn’t think so,” she replied.

Remy photographed the contract. “This is worth a deeper dive.”

“So, Davis and Dupre had an agreement. Who would they use to facilitate laundering the money?” Alex asked in a hushed voice. “They couldn’t have done it on their own, and not a chance they would’ve been able to get that money back in the US without raising serious red flags.”

“That’s the person we need to find.” Remy turned to Mrs. Davis. “Thank you for your cooperation, ma’am.”

“Does any of this help you?” she asked. “And will it keep Ron out of this trouble?”

“I think it will, yes. But if you hear from your husband” — Remy retrieved a business card — “please contact me as soon as possible.”

* * *

At midday, Cole waited for his old friend to enter the restaurant where he’d scheduled the meeting. It turned out a solution to his problem may have been found much quicker than he’d expected. Another minute or two went by before Cole spotted his friend. He smiled and stood, moving around the table to greet him. “Jim. Man, it’s good to see you. Thanks for coming.”

“Cole Grayson,” he said. “It’s good to see you, too.” The DEA agent was an older gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair and a thick mustache. He wore a crisp white shirt with a patterned tie, tailored suit pants, and polished dress shoes. His face showed traces of a hard life in a dangerous business.

He took a seat at the table. “I have to say I was surprised to hear from you earlier today after all this time. And asking for help, as usual.”

Cole grinned. “You know me well. I’m in pretty deep this time, so I’m anxious to hear what you discovered.”

The waiter approached. “Afternoon, gentlemen. What can I get you?”

“I’ll take your best draft beer, please,” Jim said.

Cole’s lips drew up into a smile. “Off the clock today?”

“Nope,” he replied.

Cole laughed and turned to the waiter. “You know what? I’ll have the same. Thank you.”

The waiter nodded and walked away.

“By the sounds of things, I might need a beer,” Jim said. “So, tell me, Cole, what the hell did you do this time? I reviewed the case file you sent. A prison guard, huh?”

Cole’s smile faded and he took a deep breath. “Let’s just say someone thinks he has leverage over me.”

Jim leaned back, appearing not to want to press any further. “Okay. What does he want in exchange?”

“Money, of course,” Cole replied. “And to make the case against him go away.”

“Right.”

“So, he wants a wad of cash and for me to make all his problems disappear,” Cole added. “My first thought was to call you.”

“Gee, thanks.” Jim stopped a moment while the waiter returned with the beers. “Appreciate it.”

“Can I get you two anything else?” the waiter asked.

“This will do, thanks,” Cole replied.

When the waiter was out of earshot, Jim continued. “I don’t know, Cole. If you give him what he wants, you open yourself up to more. But at the same time, if he decides to turn against you, then you’re as good as done.” He appeared to ponder the issue. “Luckily, I might have a solution for you.”

“I’m all ears,” Cole said.

“I’ve got feelers out. Nothing definitive yet, but I may be able to get you leverage of your own.” Jim tilted his head. “The real question is, how much time do I have?”

Cole threw down half the glass of beer and set it on the table. “It’s been two days already. I don’t know how much of a grace period he’s offering. But I’d venture to say, the sooner, the better.”

“Of course,” Jim replied. “Give me twenty-four hours. I’ll have something for you.”

* * *

The visit to the Davis home had yielded better-than-expected results. Remy and Alex came away with new details on his arrangements with Jackson Dupre, meaning he only needed someone to find the money. But ultimately, he would have access to it, and they were no closer to finding him.

“We know he’s not at his office, according to Billy,” Remy said. “So where does that leave us?”

Alex drove away from the home and carried on toward the main intersection. “He’ll struggle to move money without help.” He raised his index finger. “But that does bring to mind Davis’s travel. He told his wife he had a business trip. Let’s find out if he was telling the truth. Can you make a call to check if he’s flying out anywhere today?”

Remy grabbed her phone. “Agent Fontaine, LBI, I’m looking for a travel itinerary for a Mr. Ronald Davis, Lafayette address. Yeah, I’ll hold, thanks.” She lowered the phone and glanced at Alex. “Flights out of here will be regional. He’ll have to make a connection, probably from the east coast to take the long-haul if he planned on overseas travel. It shouldn’t be hard to find out if that’s the case.”

She returned her attention to the call. “Yes, I’m still here.” Remy nodded. “Okay, thank you. I appreciate the help.”

Alex glanced at her while she ended the call. “Well?”

“Nothing booked under his name. So, he’s staying here. We know he banks at First Union,” Remy continued. “Let me make a call and see if there’s been any activity on that account.”

While Alex continued to drive, Remy made the call. “Kevin, hey, it’s me. I’m here with Alex. We could use your help.”

“Name it,” Kevin said.

“Can you run a report on Ronald Davis? We need to know if he’s withdrawn any funds from his bank accounts over the past two days. It’s First Union Bank.”

“Sure. Hang on. It won’t take me long to pull that up.”

Remy waited on the line while Kevin looked into the information. It took several more moments before he returned to the call.

“Remy?” Kevin asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Davis withdrew fifty thousand first thing this morning. A deposit of one million had only just posted, but not cleared.”

“This morning?” she asked. “How the hell did he get past the SAR that would’ve been filed?”

“He’s running,” Alex jumped in. “Or he’s planning on handing over that money. Could be a good faith gesture to show Bodin he can access the rest of it.”

“Did you check for flights?” Kevin continued.

“We just did that. Nothing there.”

“You want me to issue a BOLO?” he added. “Do you know the vehicle?”

She glanced at Alex. “What do you think about issuing a BOLO? Kevin’s ready if that’s what we want to do.”

Alex considered the question for a moment. “What do we have right now that will stick in terms of charges?”

“Enough to hold him for twenty-four hours until we can dig up some,” Remy replied. “I think this is our best shot at tracking him down.”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s do it,” Alex said.

Remy returned to the call. “Hey, Kevin, Alex says to issue the BOLO, statewide. You can retrieve the registration from DOTD?”

“Yep. I’ll get on it.”

“Thank you.” When she ended the call, she turned back to Alex. “While he does that, where do we go from here? Should we swing by the office and talk to Billy? Maybe he’s learned more.”

Alex paused. “You know what? I think we need to aim higher.”

“I’m listening,” Remy said.

“Sal Bodin. It was his money. He’s been trailing it. What if Davis is going to him, ready to offer up information on the money?”

“I guess that depends on what Billy told him,” Remy said. “It’s possible that’s where he would go if he wanted a finder’s fee. Bodin’s lawyer got him out on a two million bond. He should be sitting in his house right about now with an ankle monitor,” Remy said. “So, you feel like taking a drive to New Orleans?”

He eyed her legs. “That depends. Are you up for it?”

“Of course I am.”

Chapter 23

Billy was left to wonder whether he faced any risk by remaining at work, pretending everything was fine and that he hadn’t been in the crosshairs of a criminal enterprise.

He still couldn’t face the harsh reality that all this had been brought on by his now-deceased father after his partner was brutally murdered in front of him. Now Billy knew that his own partner had played a part. And that partner had vanished.

So, what was he to do? Sit back and wait for Remy to find Davis and attempt to end all of this, or could he do something? Take a stand. Fight back. It wasn’t in his nature. Not outside the courthouse, anyway. He knew how to fight for his clients, but to take on something of this nature — it frightened him. What would Claire think if she knew that?

But there had to be something he could do rather than sitting on his thumbs, waiting for his sister-in-law to protect him. “I can get the money myself.”

According to what they’d found so far, Billy stood a good chance of getting that money as the beneficiary of his father’s estate. It was illegally obtained money that would likely go to the government, but at least it wouldn’t be held over his head, as Davis would do, as the Bodins would do.

Billy retrieved the files he’d taken from his childhood home. The paperwork left behind by an absent father who just so happened to have been an embezzler.

It was Remy who’d found the account and she’d sent him the details already. The bank operated out of the Cayman Islands. Billy checked the time and realized they would still be open, so he made the call just to see what kind of response he would get.

“Good afternoon.” The recorded voice spoke English. That was a good start. “For account information, press one. To speak with a representative, press two.”

Billy pressed the keypad. “Sounds just like here.” Soon, the line rang through, and his call was answered.

“How may I assist you today?” a man asked.

Billy offered his name and why he was calling, even mentioning Jackson’s name. For a moment, he thought he’d lost the call. “Sir? Are you still there, sir?”

“Yes, of course. I do apologize. Let me put you through to someone who can help you, sir.”

Billy waited while the line was transferred, and another operator answered. “Hi, yes, I was just transferred—”

“Your name, sir?” the banker asked.

“William Dupre. I’m calling on behalf of my father, Jackson Dupre, who is now deceased. I understand he is named on at least one account at your facility.”

The banker verified the account and details, then asked for additional personal verification. Several moments when by before the banker finally continued. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid the balance on this account has been reduced to zero. Only very recently, it appears.”

“By whom? I was led to believe no one else had access to this account.”

“I don’t have that information for you, sir. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“You’re telling me the money’s gone?” Billy pressed on.

“In this account, yes, sir. That is what I am saying.”

“And you won’t tell me who withdrew it? Who else was authorized on this account?”

“I cannot provide you with that information,” he replied.

“Son of a bitch.” Billy hung up. “It’s gone.” He pressed Remy’s contact. “Hey, it’s me.”

“Are you okay, Billy?”

“I’m fine. Look, I called that bank in the Caymans. Remy, they told me the money was withdrawn recently. They wouldn’t tell me when or by whom. Just that it was gone.”

“He already has it,” she said. “We picked up on a large deposit into Ronald Davis’s US bank account this morning. Some of it was available for him to withdraw. Fifty grand of it.”

“Oh my God.” Billy sounded as though he’d been defeated. “Am I in any danger? How much are we talking here?”

“A million,” Remy added. “I think Davis knew we would come for him and he found a way to take the money. At least from that account. There is likely more than one.”

“Shit. What does this mean?”

“Alex and I are headed to New Orleans now to talk to Sal Bodin. He might know where we can find Davis. We have a suspicion Davis plans to either hand over the money outright or leverage his position, insisting that he can get Bodin the rest of it. Either way, you’re going to have to sit tight, okay? Don’t do anything more. Calling the bank might have already set off alarms to Davis. I don’t know. Just let me take care of this, Billy.”

* * *

It was a long drive, almost three hours, and Remy’s legs ached from sitting in one position for too long. She rubbed her thighs to soothe the muscles.

Alex glanced at her. “You okay over there?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It just hurts sitting down for a long time. I need to stretch my legs.”

“I’m sorry, Remy. I should’ve taken that into consideration,” Alex said.

“Don’t be sorry. You’re doing your job. Actually, you’re doing my job, at least, while it’s still mine. You’re supposed to be running things back at the office.” She swatted her hand. “I’ll be fine. But what worries me more is the call from Billy.” She considered the implication of Davis’s ability to withdraw funds. “With Davis figuring out how to get his hands on that money, what does that mean for what Sal Bodin might do to help us, and why would he?”

“He doesn’t know Davis or what his motives are,” Alex replied. “Bodin has a vested interest in getting back all of his money, not just the million that’s been moved so far. Davis has boxed himself in now. He might not have the leverage over Bodin that he thinks he has.”

“Maybe,” Remy said. “But if Davis is as smart as we think, then he must have had an escape plan all along. We have to be ready for anything. This entire case has been unpredictable from the start.”

Remy took a deep breath and leaned back, allowing her head to rest against the seat. She had been determined to leave the Louisiana Bureau of Investigation. Yet, here she was, in the middle of a case with Alex and the other colleagues at the Bureau. She thought about the evidence they had found, the documents left behind by two dead crooks, and all the hard work Alex had put into this case simply because she had asked.

Remy began to reconsider leaving the FAU when the case was over. She had to admit that it had been an honor to be part of such a talented team. It truly was a privilege to work with them, and she knew she was learning something valuable. She also knew that, together, they could make a real difference in bringing fugitives to justice. Remy lifted her head from the headrest and set her sights on Alex. She peered at him as he drove. “You know, it’s funny how things can change so quickly.”

Alex glanced over with a crooked grin. “It sure is.”

She looked out the passenger window, knowing a decision had to be made, but for the first time, maybe options were on the table. It felt good to be beside Alex again, working a case together. This case was important. Even if she left the FAU after it was over, she would still have the experience, knowledge, and relationships she had formed here to take with her.

“We’re here.” Alex turned onto the street that led to the Bodin compound. It was the only house for at least a quarter mile and lay at the end of the road. He reached the iron-gated entry and stopped.

Remy cast her gaze up the long tree-lined driveway toward the stately three-story mansion. “The guy did all right for himself for a while, didn’t he?”

“Too bad he’s a drug trafficker.” Alex peered at the gate. “Now, I wouldn’t expect him to roll out the red carpet, so we’ll need to keep on our toes. Sal Bodin is under house arrest but will have his guards around him.”

“No doubt he will.”

Alex rolled down the driver’s side window and pressed the intercom button. “Agents Chasse and Fontaine, LBI. We’re here to see Mr. Bodin.” It took a few moments, but the white gates swung open. “Guess we’re going in.”

She spied the beautiful trees and blooming flowers as Alex drove slowly up the gravel path. The home came into full view now.

Alex parked the car. “He’s sent us a Welcome Wagon.”

Two guards flanked the entrance while two more headed toward the vehicle. Alex got out of his car and walked around to the passenger side.

Remy opened her door and reached for Alex’s hand. She stepped out onto the brick pavers, where the gravel ended, with legs that felt like Jell-O. Pain shot up from her calves to her thighs as she placed all her weight on them.

Alex gripped her by her elbow. “You got it.”

She walked beside him, marveling at his generosity and kindness. “You’re a good friend.”

“Back at you, Fontaine.” He led the way to the opulent covered porch flanked by white marble columns and surveyed the grounds. “Must be good to be king.”

“Until you get knocked off your throne,” Remy replied.

The guards at the door stood at attention as they approached. The other two remained at Alex’s car.

“Afternoon, guys. We’re here to see Mr. Bodin.” Alex let go of Remy’s arm and set his hand on the butt of his weapon.

Remy did the same. Her legs felt better after the short walk and her confidence rose. She noticed the cameras under the porch and at the side of the house. Whoever watched those cameras — along with the heavy lifters who flanked them — knew they were cops.

One of the guards opened the door and a man stood behind it.

“Can I help you?” the large man asked.

Remy recognized him from the raid that Montenegro had arranged only days ago. He must be one of Bodin’s henchmen. No doubt he knew exactly who Alex was.

Alex retrieved his badge from his suit jacket. “We’re here to speak to Mr. Salvatore Bodin, LBI Agents Chasse and Fontaine. He’ll know what it’s about.”

The man eyed the badges. “I’ll tell him. Wait outside.” He closed the door.

Remy turned to Alex. “Big guy.”

“Yep. Big guy with a big gun.” He returned a sideways glance. “I’m feeling a little less confident than I was two minutes ago.”

Remy chuckled.

The door opened again, and the same big man stood before them. “Mr. Bodin says you can come in.”

“Appreciate it.” Alex stepped inside and Remy followed.

“This way.” He waved them on. “I’ll take you to his office down the hall.”

They followed him until they reached what appeared to be Bodin’s home office. The ample space was well lit with floor-to-ceiling windows and a mahogany desk. Two tall bookcases were filled with books. Several paintings hung on the walls, and two leather chairs were positioned in front of a white marble fireplace.

Sal Bodin rose from his desk and offered his bulky hand. “This is a surprise that the LBI would come here.”

“We have some information for you, Mr. Bodin,” Alex said.

“I gathered. Then you must want something in return,” Sal replied, keeping his eye on Remy Fontaine. “You get hurt or something, Agent Fontaine?”

“On the job injury. No big deal,” she replied.

Sal grunted. “All right. Take a seat. What is it you drove all this way to tell me, Agents Fontaine and Chasse?”

* * *

Cole had been summoned to his DEA friend’s office sooner than his initial twenty-four-hour timeline. And he arrived just as the workday came to a close. The setting sun shone inside the lobby, leaving a golden hue. Just feet ahead lay a reception desk with an attendant. Behind him were several chairs pushed together to form a small waiting area and ahead were metal detectors guarded by security.

Cole removed his aviator sunglasses and stood tall, taking in his surroundings, feeling more confident than he had in days that maybe this nightmare was about to end.

Just inside, ahead of the metal detectors, Jim appeared. He approached Cole with an outstretched hand. “Appreciate you coming down my way, Cole. Hope the drive was all right.”

“Seems I’ve been around this complex a lot lately.”

Jim nodded. “Right. LBI’s just a stone’s throw. Well, come on back. We have lots to talk about.” He led the way through security and into the main part of the four-story building.

Several agents were still at their desks. This particular division of the DEA kept busier than most, being so close to the Gulf and all that came with that.

“Right, through here.” Jim held open the door for him. “You thirsty? You want something to drink? I’m afraid all we have here is water or soda.”

“Wouldn’t mind some water, thanks.” Cole stepped inside and let his gaze wander around the office while Jim stepped out to fetch the bottles of water. An unimpressive and plain office, much like most government offices, with mostly DEA handbooks lining the shelves behind him. Jim kept a clean desk that contained a few pictures of who Cole figured must be his family.

He’d known Jim a long time, going back at least a decade. Jim and Cole had had their disagreements, having partnered together on plenty of task forces. But the two never talked much about their respective families. Not that Cole had a wife and kids, but Jim did. Sometimes it was easier not knowing all that much about friendly acquaintances, except what went on at the job. Getting to know them on a more personal level made it all that much harder when they were lost. At least, that was how Cole saw things.

“Here you are.” Jim stepped inside, closed his door, and handed Cole a bottle. “Take a seat. Stay a while.”

“Appreciate it.” Cole sat down. “I was surprised to get your call so soon. Do I take it to mean you have some good news for me?”

“Well, I have news,” Jim said. “I’ll leave it to you to decide whether it’s good.”

Part of Jim’s charm was his ambiguity. Cole had learned to appreciate it, except for maybe right now. “Then let’s hear it. What’d you find out about the guard?”

Jim leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh. “Well, Abe Flores is a real piece of work, first and foremost. Been a guard at Elayn Hunt for over twenty years.” His focus shifted for a moment to the window. “From what I can tell, his business outside the prison walls was just as bad as his activities within them. I got wind that he took bribes from inmates for favors, including smuggling in illegal contraband and outright letting prisoners escape. Course, no one can prove that. But that’s just the beginning. I discovered evidence that he physically abused his wife. She’s filed more than a couple of restraining orders against him in the past. Unfortunately, dropping them pretty quickly after the fact. Regardless, that is a fireable offense and, being so close to retirement, he won’t want to risk that. He’s even been tangled up in illegal gambling. Bottom line, Cole, this guy’s a real bad dude and he’s been getting away with it for years.”

Cole soaked up the information, feeling less guilty about his relationship with this piece of shit. “He sure didn’t come off as squeaky clean, but what you have, is it enough? You have proof of any of it that I can present to him?”

Jim set a file on his desk. “It’s enough. Only some of it we can prove. The rest, he won’t want getting out anyway. I will say that I had to pull a shit ton of strings to get this information, so I suggest you use it wisely. But if you present this to him, that man would be stupid to say one damn word about whatever he’s holding over your head. He’ll be lucky to only be charged with trafficking. Tacking on anything else from what I learned would see him behind those very bars he guards for damn near his entire useful life.”

Cole took the file. “I can’t thank you enough for this, Jim. You saved my ass.”

“That’s assuming Flores will go for it, but I don’t see how that doesn’t happen.” Jim peered at his door a moment before setting a firm gaze on Cole. “Look, I’m no judge and I won’t pretend I never walked the gray line before. I figure you did what you did because you had no other choice. But I’m gonna take a leap and assume this could’ve ended badly for you, Cole. The kind of ending you only see in movies; you understand what I’m telling you?”

“Yeah, I think I do. And if you knew the reason . . .”

Jim raised his hand. “Like I said, we all got our reasons. Just do me a favor. Don’t make a habit of it. Lord knows, sometimes I want to. But it’ll eat at you, Cole. I think you know that. You’re a good man and a hell of a good Marshal. Don’t screw that up, brother.”

“I won’t.” Cole got to his feet and offered his hand. “Know that I won’t forget this, Jim.”

Jim took his hand and returned a hearty handshake. “Oh, I know you won’t because I won’t let you.” He smiled. “Go sort this shit out before you’re out of time, my friend. And I don’t want to see you again unless you’re bringing me a six-pack.”

Chapter 24

Cole was behind the wheel of his Chevy Tahoe as the evening set in. He headed to New Orleans to meet with Abe Flores and settle this once and for all. First thing in the morning was his meeting with Bautista about the internal investigation. All this was supposed to be sorted out before that meeting. He had to go in with a clean conscience. It was hard to have a clean conscience after something like this, but he’d faced moral dilemmas plenty in his storied career. Although, this was the first one where his ass had genuinely been on the line.

Cole glanced at his phone and tapped a finger on the screen while he kept his eyes fixed on the road. He wanted to call Remy. She was supposed to meet with his supervisor today about the job, but he had received a text from her earlier canceling the meeting. He knew she had something important to take care of, and he was determined to be patient and wait for her to reach out. Turned out to be harder than he thought.

Nonetheless, he would wait for her call. If she was in any sort of trouble, Alex would’ve made contact, and that hadn’t happened, so he needed to let this play out however it was going to.

He remembered that first meeting with Remy in the FAU office all too well. Every fiber of his being wanted to be next to her — the spark between them unmistakable. But Cole had pushed it down, not wanting to appear too eager. Then, when Remy had called him to meet her at the bar during their first case, Cole had felt torn between wanting to stay back and his deep desire to be near her.

When he had arrived, Remy was there, looking stunning and more confident than ever. Cole felt like he was being pulled into her, completely taken by her presence, but he’d fought it, determined not to let her see him rattled. They had stared at each other, a battle of wills, and Cole knew he would lose if it lasted much longer.

In that one moment, Cole finally understood that Remy could be special to him, someone who could change his life forever. He knew it would be difficult and would bring lots of trouble, but she was a risk worth taking.

His thoughts returned to the road ahead, unsure of how many miles he’d already driven. But soon, he noticed the landscape change, morphing into the Crescent City. A sprawling mix of vitality and beauty, the dazzling colors of New Orleans gleamed in the night. The French Quarter was alive with music and culture. Farther away, the Mississippi River flowed toward the Gulf of Mexico, sparkling in the night. Lights twinkled ahead like a thousand tiny stars, a sign that New Orleans was alive and well.

But for Cole, there was no time to enjoy the beauty. He was on a mission to save himself. The meeting was scheduled to take place at the same café as before. It was time to put an end to Flores’ blackmail attempts by giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Cole parked in a nearby lot and walked onward through the narrow streets. The sound of jazz echoed throughout, and the smell of seafood imbued his senses.

This was the place. He opened the door and stepped inside. He spotted Flores and former inmate, Lance Deveraux. Flores wore a knowing grin that made Cole want to slap it right off his face. But cooler heads had to prevail in this instance. He had the upper hand now and was about to prove it.

“Deputy Grayson, glad you could make it so quickly,” Flores said. “Take a seat.”

Cole surveyed the café in search of NOPD. No point in pushing his luck by doing a deal with them sitting at the next table. He looked at Lance. “Thanks for coming down tonight.”

“It’s no problem. I’m happy to facilitate a mutually agreeable solution,” Lance replied.

“Are you teaching yourself to become a lawyer because you’re starting to sound like one.” Cole sat down and retrieved the file from his laptop bag. “I’m afraid I was unable to meet your financial demands, Abe, in addition to addressing your legal situation. It appears even I have limitations as to what I can make happen.” He set down the file on the table.

“That is disappointing, Deputy. I had hoped we’d come to an agreement,” Flores replied. “As long as you’re aware that means I’m unable to make certain things disappear on your behalf.”

Cole pushed the file toward him. “Before you go on, I have a proposition. Take a look inside the folder here.”

Flores reached for the file and opened it. He picked up the reports and began to read. His face hardened. His cheeks reddened from what appeared to be rising anger. His chest heaved as his eyes consumed the contents of the reports.

Lance shot a look at Cole as he read over Flores’ shoulder. “How did you get this?”

“I’ve been around for a long time. People owe me favors and I only collect when it’s absolutely necessary. This was one of those times.” Cole eyed the guard. “Like I said, your current charges are out of my reach, but I can keep the rest of that information from blowing back on you. Probably saves you a solid dime on the inside, wouldn’t you say? So, we can agree that neither one of us wants the other to expose our related information. Am I correct in that assumption?”

Flores raised a heated gaze at him. “You are correct.”

“That’s good news. So how about this?” Cole began. “We call it even. You finish removing the details on the prison logs as per our initial agreement. I won’t reveal that information. We both win.”

Flores pressed his lips tightly together. His jaw clenched as he seethed. “Agreed.”

* * *

Sal Bodin appeared to be a calm man. Sophisticated. Businesslike. His dark suit was immaculately pressed and tailored, and his shirt was crisp and white. He held his head high, with his arms tucked neatly behind his back. He exuded an aura of authority. The only clue he was a criminal was the monitor wrapped around his ankle, only visible when he sat down.

“Thank you for agreeing to see us, Mr. Bodin,” Alex said. “My partner Agent Fontaine and I wished to speak to you regarding the money your son, Quinten, attempted to track down.”

Sal kept his eyes fixed on Alex, concealing every hint of emotion.

“We’ve found that money, well, some of it,” Remy cut in. “And now we need to find the man who took it.”

“Took it?” Sal asked.

“Yes,” Remy continued. “One of the foreign accounts we recovered, and we believe there are a few, was accessed, and it was discovered that the funds had recently been withdrawn. Something we didn’t believe this man could do.”

“This man being?”

“Ronald Davis,” Alex cut in. “You know him?”

Sal looked skeptical. “I’ve heard his name only recently, as a matter of fact. What do you need me to do?”

Alex looked to Remy before he answered. “We need to find out where Davis has gone. He may be coming to see you, sir. That’s why we’re here.”

Sal nodded. “You’re telling me that a man I’ve never met has my money? And now he’s coming to see me. Is that what I’m hearing?”

“We believe that to be the case,” Remy replied.

Sal nodded. “And this benefits me how, Agent Fontaine?”

She fixed her gaze and straightened her back. “We believe we can access the remaining funds. Turning over that money would go a long way to getting into the FBI’s good graces regarding your trafficking investigation.”

Sal scoffed. “You think I’m worried about that? You think I haven’t faced trumped-up charges for the past twenty years or more?” He looked away. “I don’t need your help. Enjoy the drive back to Baton Rouge.”

“Mr. Bodin,” Alex jumped in. “Has Mr. Davis made contact with you? Can you at least tell us that much?”

“Jackson Dupre and Peter Galloway stole money from my organization and now you want my help in finding the man who’s somehow got his hands on it?” Bodin asked, brows raised.

Remy shared a look with Alex. “Here’s what I think has happened, Mr. Bodin. I think Davis reached out to you and told you he had a way to access the money. All of it. And I think he wants a finder’s fee in exchange rather than taking the money himself because he has no way to clean it.”

“And I do?” Sal replied.

Remy wasn’t going to acknowledge that with a response. “With your oldest son facing severe charges for the murder of Peter and Trent Galloway, and your pending indictment, I think you’re willing to entertain Mr. Davis because you want the money back in order to keep it safe for your family’s future, which is up in the air at the moment. If we get it, you’ll see none of it.” She let her eyes roam. “We both know that all this here. Your empire? It’s slipping away.”

Remy’s words seemed to have struck a nerve. She could see it on his face. He seemed to be calculating his options. After a long, tense moment, he spoke.

“Davis is heading this way as we speak. Do with him what you will, but in exchange for that, I want assurances that my family’s legitimate businesses will be protected. I don’t give a shit about the money my son was obsessed with. None of us would be in this position if he’d just let it go.”

“And the family of Jackson Dupre?” Remy asked. “If we’ve recovered the money, no reason remains for anyone in your family to be concerned about them.”

“I wasn’t concerned with them to begin with, Agent Fontaine,” Bodin replied. “I’ve met Jackson’s son. I can see he’s nothing like his father.”

Alex nodded. “I won’t blow smoke, Mr. Bodin. There’s little we can do to protect your assets. But I will tell you this; Mr. Davis has already withdrawn roughly fifty grand from one of those accounts, leaving behind somewhere in the range of a million dollars sitting in his US bank right now. I would take that to mean his intention was to give you a figure far less than he had access to and still ask for a finder’s fee.”

Bodin rubbed his full chin, appearing to mull over the information. He sucked his teeth while his gaze hardened. He reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone.

Remy and Alex traded glances, uncertain what Bodin planned.

“Where is he?” Bodin asked with the phone at his ear. “And the money?” he added.

Remy’s senses heightened. Whatever pain she’d felt in her legs had vanished, replaced with something that bordered on panic. Something had changed in Bodin’s face as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the line.

“No, that’s it. I’ll be in touch.” Bodin ended the call and set his gaze on the agents. “Last my people heard from him was about an hour ago. Davis was on his way. So, if you want him, stick around.”

* * *

The plan was for Remy and Alex to wait in Alex’s car, tucked away just outside the gates of Bodin’s mansion. Not only was it safer for them out there, away from the armed guards that surrounded the home, but they also wouldn’t raise any red flags with Davis on his arrival.

Remy wondered if Cole knew she had pushed off the meeting with his boss today. Things had ramped up pretty quickly with this Davis situation and she hadn’t spoken to him yet. “I need to call Cole. I was supposed to go in there today for a meeting . . . I missed it.”

Alex turned to her. “You’ve already set up a meeting with those guys?” He sighed. “I guess I didn’t realize . . . doesn’t matter. Do what you need to do, Remy.”

She made the call, and he answered on the second ring.

“Remy, hi. I was getting worried because I hadn’t heard from you today. Is everything okay?” Cole asked.

“I thought you should know that I canceled that meeting today. We’ve had some developments that couldn’t wait. Alex and I are sitting outside Sal Bodin’s home. We came looking for Ron Davis and thought Bodin might know his location. We were right. He’s convinced Davis to meet him here. The guy took at least some of the money Dupre had stashed away and we think he’ll tell Bodin that Billy has access to the rest of it. We can’t let that happen.”

“You’re in New Orleans?” Cole asked.

“We are.”

“So am I. I had some business to handle, and I came down a little while ago. Listen, this thing could get complicated. It’s just you and Alex?”

“Yes,” Remy replied, knowing he would be concerned — she wasn’t exactly fully capable of going after anyone in her current state.

“Look, I’m not far. Let me meet you two. Give you some backup. It’s not a good idea to face Bodin alone.”

“We’re not facing him. We’re facing Davis.”

“Make no mistake, Remy. Sal Bodin wants his pound of flesh. I don’t think he’ll care who he gets it from. Don’t think he isn’t aware of LBI’s part in his raid. He’s a dangerous man who doesn’t have much left to lose.”

Remy glanced at Alex and considered Cole’s warning. “Maybe some backup would be useful. How soon can you be here?”

“Fifteen minutes. I’m on my way.”

She ended the call. “Cole’s coming. He thinks Bodin is setting us up for an ambush.”

Alex raked his hand through his hair. “The thought had crossed my mind.”

“I’m sorry, Alex. I’ve put you in another situation that I’ll be useless to help you out of,” Remy said.

“You’re not useless at anything,” he shot back “You know as well as I do that we have to expect the worst and hope for the best. This is one of those ‘worst’ situations. But look, Davis isn’t exactly a cold hard criminal. He’s a thief and a liar.”

“Maybe so, but Bodin is as cold as they come,” Remy replied. “I was consumed with ensuring Billy’s name would never reach Bodin’s lips again. And now here we are winging it, only my wings are currently clipped. I should’ve considered that before we came here on our own.” She rubbed her legs.

Alex’s attention was drawn to the roadway, where headlights approached.

Remy craned her neck to see. “Is that Cole?”

“I can’t tell yet. It’s too dark. Could be Davis.” Alex set his gun on the center console. “Be ready.”

A moment later, she recognized the vehicle. “It’s Cole’s Chevy. He’s here.” A small measure of relief washed over her, knowing Alex wouldn’t have to cover for both of them.

Cole’s headlights flickered off as he rolled up beside them. His driver’s side window rolled down, so Alex lowered his.

“I heard you might be waiting on some action,” Cole said. “Figured I’d offer some backup if you need it.”

Remy noticed the relief in Alex’s expression.

“Good timing, Grayson,” he said. “We’ll get you up to speed.”

* * *

Ron Davis had kept his head down as much as possible. Now, he headed to Sal Bodin’s compound, prepared to play a dangerous game with a powerful man. Tell him he knows how to get the stolen money and that he only wants a finder’s fee. Meanwhile, keep the million from his own account that Bodin doesn’t know exists. The fifty grand would help Davis buy the silence of those who helped him clean the rest. If Bodin didn’t bite, then he’d simply tell the man to go after Billy Dupre for all of it. Kill two birds, as it were.

Ron drove on into the city thinking of an appropriate tactic. He was a lawyer and, by default, an exceptional liar. But could he convince a drug kingpin currently under house arrest to trust him? What would happen if he didn’t?”

Chapter 25

The moon shone high in the clear sky. It was surrounded by stars easily visible absent the light pollution of the nearby city. The road leading up to the Bodin compound was sporadically lit with only a few streetlamps. Soft landscape spotlights illuminated the ornate white iron entry gates. A pale amber glow emanated from the trees on either side of the winding driveway.

Remy imagined what it must be like to live in a place like this. Then again, it was built on drug money, and Sal Bodin would eventually lose it all. Maybe not now, but the FBI would continue to chisel away at the family until they had nothing left. Remy’s part in this was minuscule, but she was part of it, which meant something.

She had Cole and Alex with her again, as it had been only six months earlier when they’d chased down Kyle DeChamp. At the time, she’d convinced both of them to risk their lives and careers to bring him down. And they did so without hesitation.

Now, Remy faced a monumental shift in her life. One that could see her working directly with Cole Grayson as a Deputy US Marshal, leaving Alex to run the FAU absent their former SAC Marcus Hubert.

The move weighed heavily on her mind, even now as they sat here awaiting Ronald Davis — the final piece of the puzzle in this investigation that had brought danger to her family’s doorstep. It seemed a pattern in her life had developed. Her career choices unwittingly had an impact on those she loved most. Was it possible to break that pattern, and if so, how?

“I think that’s Davis,” Alex said.

Remy checked her service weapon and glanced over at Cole in his Tahoe, who’d done the same. No one knew how Davis would react, so they had to be ready.

The car ahead appeared to slow down. If Davis looked hard enough, he’d be able to see the two vehicles off to the side, but so far, Remy noticed no change in his behavior as he rolled up to the gate.

He appeared to speak into the intercom system, and a moment later, the gates swung open. This was it. The gates would remain open for a few minutes to allow them inside after Davis entered the home.

We let him go inside,” Alex said from behind the wheel. “Let Bodin deliver the news we’re here to arrest him.”

Remy watched Davis’s vehicle crawl up the sweeping driveway. She took a deep breath. “Another minute and we roll.”

Alex pressed the ignition. “It’s time.” He started up the driveway with his window still down.

Remy heard the gravel crush under the wheels and glanced back to see Cole following. Neither vehicle had on its headlights. She peered ahead as the house drew nearer. “Davis is inside.”

Alex stopped the car. “Here we go.”

Remy stepped out and waited for Cole to catch up. The three of them walked up the driveway, their steps clicking on the brick pavers. Remy’s heart pounded in her chest as they came up to the house. She became acutely aware of her limitations with each aching step and feared she would be virtually useless if things took a turn for the worse. But they shouldn’t, she thought. We’re only here for Davis.

They’d just climbed the steps to the expansive covered porch when Cole spoke up. “It’s too soon. Give Bodin time to hear out Davis. He can attest to Davis admitting to having the money. It’ll help us build a case against him.”

“If we wait, we risk something happening to Davis,” Alex said. “Bodin wasn’t happy when we told him Davis had set aside money for himself.”

Loud voices erupted inside the home. The guards who flanked the entrance rushed inside.

With the door wide open, Alex brandished his gun. “Son of a bitch. We’re going in.”

Remy steadied her weapon and shifted into position to the right of Alex while Cole covered the left. The three of them trained their weapons on the chaos inside. Four of Bodin’s people shouted at Davis while he stood just beyond the foyer, frozen with fear.

“Stand down!” Bodin roared above the noise, raising his arms to gain their attention. The room fell still. The men under his command lowered their weapons. He spun around to the door and noticed the three of them, their sights set on his men. “Just the people I needed to see.”

Alex maintained his stance with his gun steadied in one hand while the other cradled it. “We’re here to take Davis into custody.”

Bodin’s men began to advance.

“Don’t move!” Remy shouted. “Call them off, Bodin. This isn’t about you. This is about Davis.”

He took steps to position himself in front of his men. “It’s over now. Go on.” They holstered their weapons and retreated. Bodin looked at Remy. “Happy now?”

“What the hell’s going on?” Alex asked.

“Seems you were right about Mr. Davis keeping secrets from me.” Bodin glanced at Davis, who hadn’t budged an inch and kept his hands raised. “I asked him what he planned on doing with the million he thought he could steal. Things briefly got out of hand, but as you can see, everything’s fine now.” He turned back to Davis. “Isn’t it, Mr. Davis?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ronald Davis, you’re under arrest for participating in a criminal money laundering conspiracy. Bank fraud and wire fraud,” Remy said.

Davis dropped his arms to his side and found his feet again as he stepped toward them. “What the hell are you talking about? I’ve done nothing wrong. I have an agreement with Mr. Bodin. I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“No?” She steadied her gaze. “You know who I am. And we know you moved illegally acquired funds from a foreign bank account. That foreign account didn’t belong to you.”

“I had no idea of any of this, Agent Fontaine,” Bodin cut in. “If you’re here to arrest Mr. Davis” — he gestured toward him — “then be my guest. Get this man off my property.”

Davis shot an incredulous look at Bodin. “What? That was your money. I found it. I told you about it.”

Bodin shrugged and stepped away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Remy felt a tingle in the back of her neck. The tension in the room surged. She kept her eyes on Davis and the look on his face suggested he wouldn’t go quietly. And with four other armed men inside this room, her senses heightened. She’d felt this before, always at the moment when someone decided to make an ill-conceived choice. “Mr. Davis?”

Davis knocked over a side table. The glass top smashed onto the tile floor. He darted toward Bodin, but within milliseconds, Bodin’s men had rushed to him with their guns drawn.

“Find cover!” Cole shouted, running toward the adjacent formal living room and dropping behind a chair.

Remy looked at Alex. “Run.” She dashed to the other side, finding cover behind the winding staircase. She spotted Alex running into the nearby hallway. She could see Cole peeking out from behind the chair and mouthed to him, “You okay?”

He nodded and raised his palm at her as if to say, “Stay back.”

Davis was protected behind Bodin while his men waited for a clean shot. But when Remy stepped out to attempt to gain control, one of the men turned and fired. The bullet whizzed by her and nicked the banister before burrowing into the wall behind it.

“Get back!” Cole shouted at her. He came out from behind the chair and fired at the man who’d almost taken her out, hitting him in the chest. The man fell to the ground.

Bodin shouted at his men to stop, but it was too late. Rounds seemed to come from every direction. Bodin worked his way free of Davis, who’d been distracted by the chaos. He slipped away, drawing his own gun.

Alex emerged from the hall, scrambling to get behind whatever protection he could find. He fired off two rounds. One hit Davis in the shoulder, the other, one of Bodin’s guards. Blood spilled on the tile floor.

Cole hurried to Remy’s side and the two returned fire at the men who kept coming at them. He was drawn out by another who’d moved toward Alex. “Alex!” he yelled before shooting down the man when he was only feet away.

Remy was alone, defending her position. Her movements were slow, but she could still fire a gun with exceptional aim. Bodin advanced toward her. Remy glanced at Alex and Cole, but they had to fend off another assailant. She was on her own.

She could take out Bodin in the blink of an eye. He and his sons were ultimately responsible for what happened to Billy. Davis was nothing more than a leech, attempting to drain whatever life was left of the Jackson Dupre debacle.

But would he fire on her? He was a man with little to lose and an axe to grind against LBI, the feds, the Marshals. They were the ones responsible for the raid. Responsible for shutting down his entire operation, legal or not. Did she matter to him?

Remy wasn’t anxious to find out. She had the kill shot. “Don’t come any closer. I will shoot you.”

It was then she noticed Cole turn his attention to her. “Remy,” he called out.

“I got this,” she replied, keeping her eyes fixed on Bodin. “Drop the gun, Sal. We’ve got Davis. He’s the one we want. It doesn’t have to go this way. This wasn’t the plan.”

“Who’s to say what happened here tonight, Agent Fontaine.” In one fluid motion, Bodin drew his gun and fired at Remy.

She pivoted, shielding herself from the bullet. The swift move compelled her legs to seize. Remy crumpled to the floor. The shot ricocheted off the wall behind her. She returned fire, but the angle forced a miss. “Don’t move!” she yelled.

Bodin took one step.

Remy pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped through Bodin’s chest, and he dropped to the floor with a thud. More rounds fired off behind her before the room fell silent, and for a moment, she wondered if Cole and Alex were still alive.

Her hands trembled and her heart pounded as she tried to stand.

“Jesus, Remy.” Alex rushed to her side. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She let out a long breath. “I couldn’t see what was happening with you guys. Is Cole . . .” He appeared behind Alex.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Cole asked.

Her lips quivered at the sight of him, knowing he was okay. “I’m fine.” Remy reached for Alex’s hand as he helped her to her feet. She turned back to the scene. “Oh my God.”

* * *

Ronald Davis was the only survivor in the Bodin house, outside of law enforcement, and was taken into custody. He now lay in a hospital bed, cuffed to the frame. Sal Bodin’s body was taken to the New Orleans morgue. Both his sons remained behind bars.

As dawn emerged, Remy stepped outside the Bodin home that had been bought with drug money. The New Orleans Police Department had sent several units to the scene. They assisted with taking statements from other occupants of the home, which included mostly groundskeepers and housekeeping staff.

Remy watched as the sun’s orange and red hues spread out like tentacles against the bluing sky. She heard footfalls behind her and felt a hand on her shoulder. As she turned around, she smiled. “Hey, Alex. Have you talked to Maggie yet to let her know you’re okay?”

“I did. She and the kids are fine. She gets this is part of the deal.”

“I know she gets it, but it’s nice to hear from you after not showing up for the entire night,” Remy replied.

“How are you holding up? How’s your pain?”

“I’m a little achy, but otherwise, I’m okay. Maybe I’m just getting used to it now, huh?”

“Maybe so.” He paused a moment. “What you did in there with Bodin . . .”

“It’s not like I had a choice, Alex. He came after me.”

“No, I realize that.” He raised his hand. “What I mean to say is that none of it ever seems to faze you. No matter what you’re faced with, you tackle it head-on. It’s impressive, is all I’m trying to say.”

“No different from what you would’ve done.”

“Remy, take the compliment, would you? For once?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Alex.”

Patrol cars circled the grounds and their lights still flashed. Officers milled around. CSI took photos and bagged evidence.

“You think it’s safe for us to head out? I wouldn’t mind going home and getting some sleep,” Remy said.

“I can check with the detective. Hang on. I’ll be right back.” Alex walked away, his steps amplified by the gravel on the driveway crunching under his feet.

Cole made his way over and donned a tight-lipped smile.

Remy turned to him. “You ready to head out? It’s still a long drive back and I don’t want to fall asleep behind the wheel.”

“Well, you won’t be the one driving, but yeah, we should get going,” Cole replied. “Listen, don’t worry about meeting my bosses any time soon. They’ll understand if you postpone it. I’ll have to brief them on all this, first and foremost.”

“I think I’ll do that. It’s been a long forty-eight hours or so and I just need time to rest and clear my head.”

“Of course.” He paused a moment. “I don’t want to be the one to push you into this, Remy. That’s the last thing I’d ever do. So, if you want to think about it some more or reconsider altogether—”

“I have had second thoughts, Cole.” She noticed a change in his eyes. “It has nothing to do with you. It’s me. I need to make the right move and I need to make it because I decided to. Not because someone else persuaded me. I left my trooper job because Hubert convinced me I’d be a great FAU agent—”

“Which you are,” Cole interjected. “As evidenced by what happened inside that house a couple of hours ago.”

“Thank you, but he was the one who convinced me. And I let him because I was running away from a mistake I’d made, and a partner I’d lost. I left my job for all the wrong reasons and even though, in the end, it was a good move for me, I need to make sure another move is the right one.”

“Hey, I get it. You’ll get no pressure from me.” He shrugged. “I want you to do what will make you happy, Remy.” He took her hands. “But you should know that my feelings for you won’t change regardless of your decision.”

A smile tickled the corner of her lips. “Thank you, Cole. I hate to say it, but Alex was right about it being too soon for me to be working in the field like this. My physical limitations could’ve cost my life this time. Maybe it might cost someone else’s next if I’m not careful. I know I had a stake in this investigation with Billy and Claire, but it seems that happens more often than it should. And it’s something I have to put serious thought into.”

Alex returned to the both of them. “Okay, we got the ‘all clear.’ You guys ready to check out or what?”

“Please,” Remy said. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Billy ended the call and walked into his kitchen as the sun climbed above the horizon outside the window. Claire stood at the island, spreading butter and jam on Isaiah’s toast. “That was Remy.”

She shot him a look. “What did she say?”

“Ron’s, uh, not going to be a problem anymore,” he replied. “He won’t be coming back to the firm either.”

Claire drew back her shoulders and let out a sigh. “Okay. What does that mean for you?”

“Well, Remy is on her way back from New Orleans. Alex is driving back with her. But she told me that the money would be seized by the feds. It was Bodin’s cash, but still illegal, and he’s gone too.”

“He is?” she asked, casting a glance at Isaiah. “What happened to him?”

Billy frowned and shook his head. “Gone. It was Remy.”

She lowered her gaze. “Oh my God.”

“Remy says she’s fine. Just wanted some rest and reminded me that it’s over. All the players are either gone, in jail, or going to jail. It’s over, Claire.”

A stray tear spilled down her cheek. “Thank God. We can go back to normal now.”

“Yes. I’ll have to discuss next steps with the other partners. I thought I’d go in today if you’re okay with that.”

“Of course. It sounds like there’s going to be a lot to hash out.”

“There is.” He kissed her cheek and walked over to the stool where Isaiah sat. “Hey, buddy. I’m going to work, so I’ll see you tonight, okay? Be good.” He kissed the boy on the forehead.

“Bye, Daddy.” Isaiah didn’t look at him, keeping his eyes on the iPad that played his favorite cartoons.

Billy grabbed his laptop bag and snatched his keys from the entry table. “I’ll be home early.” He walked through the door and carried on down the path to his silver Range Rover parked at the top of the driveway. Opening the driver’s side door, he slipped onto the supple black leather seats and buckled his seatbelt. He pressed the ignition and backed out.

Part of him was upset that Davis had survived, but it was only a small part. It didn’t matter, though, as the man would spend the next several years behind bars. He’d got what he deserved for all the lies and deceit. To know he was only hired because of his crook of a father. All this time and Billy had no idea. He started to understand what Remy felt after learning what her boss had done.

But as he drove on, he had another call to make, and now he waited for an answer.

“Bank of Panama. How may I direct your call?” The pleasant female voice broadcast through the car’s speaker.

“This is William Dupre. I’m calling to authorize the transfer of account number 1389478 into another account.”

“Yes, sir. Let me send you to the appropriate department.”

Billy was on hold for a moment when the line picked up again.

“Yes, sir, I can help you with that transfer.” The clicking sound of keys on a keyboard reverberated inside the car. “All right, sir, that transfer is now complete, and you should see a new balance of one million, seven hundred thousand dollars in your new account.”

“That’s great news. Thank you so much for your help,” Billy replied.

“Of course, sir. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Billy ended the call and arrived at his law firm as the time showed eight-thirty in the morning. With a lighter step, he made his way inside the sophisticated lobby and headed into the hall where he spotted his assistant at her desk. “Good morning, Mya. You look nice today.”

“Good morning, Billy, and thank you. How are you? You’re looking better.”

“I’m feeling much better, thank you. Are Frank and Alan in yet this morning?”

“I believe so. Would you like me to call back and check?” she asked.

He waved a hand. “No, I’ll run back there and see.” Billy disappeared into the hall and reached his office. He turned on the light and walked to his desk, setting down his laptop bag. He gazed through the window — the blood stain on the sidewalk had faded but was still noticeable. He turned on his heel and made his way into the hall again.

Soon, he reached Frank Epstein’s office. “Good morning, Frank. Listen, do you have a minute? I’d like to sit down with you and Alan and discuss where things are at with what happened to Ron.”

“You heard?” The hefty man with white hair and deep lines etched in his cheeks tugged on his suit jacket. In his sixties, Frank had been part of the firm since the beginning.

“I did. It’s an awful thing. So much has happened. I just struggle to believe Ron even had a part in all of it.”

“I hear you. Let me answer a couple of emails and we’ll sit down together. A lot needs to be discussed. Give me five minutes?”

“You got it. I’ll let Alan know.” Billy carried on down the hall until he reached the other partner’s office. He knocked and opened the door to find Alan Ackerman at his desk. “Good morning.”

“Billy?” He stood. “Oh my God, did you hear what happened to Ron?” The short but slim partner, who came on a few years after the firm’s inception, was in his late fifties. His bald head bounced light from it and his bulbous nose stood prominent against a recessed chin.

“I did. I think the three of us need to sit down and talk. Frank said he could do it in five. What about you?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll see you in the conference room.”

“Sounds good.” Billy spun around and again entered the hall, this time walking straight to the conference room. A printer lay against the back wall that spat out several sheets of paper. Billy had sent files to it, and he walked to the printer and grabbed the documents. He stacked them neatly, placing each little packet in front of two chairs at the end of the table. Billy sat down in the head chair and waited.

Only a few minutes went by until the partners turned up and took their seats.

Billy laced his fingers together and placed his hands on the table. “So, as you know, we’re faced with circumstances none of us ever considered, I’m sure. And with what happened to me as well . . . it’s been a terrible few weeks in my life. And now Ron’s too.”

“What’s this?” Frank picked up the documents.

“That is a contract from me offering to buy out Ron’s shares of the business.”

“What?” Alan asked, eyes wide. “You really want to discuss this now? The man hasn’t been convicted of anything yet.”

“Maybe not, but you’ll forgive me if I don’t share the same sympathy for him as you do. He lied to me, Alan. He took advantage of me. And most importantly, he will never obtain another law license again.” Billy took a deep breath. “What I’m offering is fair market value.”

“That would make you majority owner,” Frank said.

“Yes, it would. But nothing else changes.”

“You’ll have the final say in every case we take on,” Alan continued. “You’re asking us to give up quite a lot. I suppose I assumed Ron’s shares would be split evenly among us.”

“But you and Alan already own more than I do,” Billy replied.

“That’s because we’ve been partners at this firm longer than you,” Alan snapped. “I’m a little taken aback by this, Billy. I think we need some time to discuss this, don’t you?”

“Of course. Please, talk it over among yourselves. Your families. We have some time before a decision needs to be made.” Billy stood from the chair. “But if you find this split disagreeable to you, I’m happy to buy out your share of ownership as well, Alan.”

“How can you afford to do that?” Frank asked. “You’ve only just been made partner.”

“Let’s just say I fell into some money.” Billy smoothed his tie. “Let me know what you both decide.”

Chapter 26

The decision wasn’t going to be an easy one. Remy wanted to sleep, but she wanted clarity even more. So after Alex dropped her off at her car, she headed back toward Lafayette to see Claire. Since they’d lost their parents, Claire was always someone she could talk to. Someone she trusted with everything. She needed her older sister now more than ever.

Her eyelids were heavy and after the long drive back from New Orleans, her legs ached. But she pressed on, slamming down a large cup of coffee, and eating a sugary donut for energy. The quick boost of a sugar rush helped propel her to Claire’s house in Lafayette.

Remy stepped up onto the porch and rang the bell.

Claire opened the door and eyed her up and down. “Remy, no offense, but you kind of look like shit.”

“Thanks, and none taken.” She stepped inside. “I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?”

“No, honey. Not at all.” Claire carried on into the kitchen. “Isaiah’s gone to preschool this morning, so I have a couple of hours to spare. Sit. You want some coffee?”

“I’d probably better hold off on that. I don’t want to get too jittery. Had a bunch on the way up.”

Claire smiled. “I see. So, this is something that couldn’t wait until you’d gotten some rest?”

“Not really. I wouldn’t be able to sleep with this weighing on my mind,” Remy said.

“Okay, sis. Tell me what’s going on?” Claire pulled out a stool next to her and sat down.

Remy went on to relay the offer Cole had made about moving to the Marshal’s office, leaving behind Alex and the rest of her team. “And I still think, after this week, I’m just not ready to get back to life in the field.” She chuckled. “Boy, if Dr. Girard could hear me now — anyway, I’m not ready yet. So, what good would I be to anyone at this point?”

Claire reached for Remy’s hand that rested on the counter. “You’re always good to everyone, regardless of your current physical state.” She paused a moment. “You know, Remy, when you were shot, I thought I was going to lose you. I thought, that’s it” — Claire frowned at the unpleasant memory — “now I have no one left in my family. And then you pulled through.” She raised her index finger. “But you know who helped me stay positive? It was Cole. I’ll tell you, Remy, that man didn’t leave the hospital until he knew you were awake and in recovery.”

“I remember,” Remy said. “I also remember that I didn’t want to see him.”

Claire tilted her head. “Which to this day, I still don’t get, but that’s beside the point.”

“What is your point, Claire? You think because I’m seeing Cole, or was seeing him, that he’s the reason I should go be a Deputy US Marshal?”

“No. Not at all. I’m simply saying that man has more faith in you than I think I’ve ever seen from anyone, except for maybe me and Mom.” Claire smiled. “She had a lot of faith in both of us.”

“She did.”

“But that faith means he expects you to decide on your own. Not because he wants you there but because you want to be there. He wants what’s best for you and your career,” Claire added.

“That’s kind of what he said to me earlier when I told him I was wavering a little.” She shook her head. “But Alex . . . he’s been so great. Such an amazing friend. I’d miss him so much. I’d miss most of them a lot. They took me in, regardless of my inexperience. It’s hard to turn my back on that.”

“You’re right.” Claire nodded. “I understand that. But with Alex’s promotion, how often do you think you’ll be working side by side with him? He’s your boss now, not your partner. The relationship has to evolve. And I’m not sure it’s one that you’d be happy with, necessarily.”

“Maybe. But he deserved the promotion. No question. He was the senior agent. And I am happy for him. I suppose working with him these past few days brought me back. I rely on him. He relies on me. He knows what I went through.”

“Does Max play a part in all this?” Claire asked.

Remy knitted her brow. “What do you mean?”

“Your hesitation to work with someone you’re seeing. Someone you might love one day. You lost Max, and I know you loved him. I know what that did to you. I’m just saying, maybe that’s playing on your mind too.”

“Gee, Claire, I was sort of hoping you’d just point me in the right direction, not tell me I have to choose my own way.”

Claire laughed. “But you know that’s how it has to be, right?”

“I guess so.” Remy shrugged. “Still doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Since when has anything in Remy Fontaine’s life been easy?” Claire asked. “But I will say this, it’s all been worthwhile. And, baby sister, you have a long way to go.” She patted Remy on the knee. “Come on. I’ll help you upstairs, and you can get some sleep in the guest room. You’ll rest. I’ll make dinner later. And you’ll stay the night. Sound like a plan?”

“I’d like that, Claire. Thanks.”

* * *

Billy had given them three days to decide. Today was the final day. He walked into the law offices of Davis, Epstein, Ackerman, and Dupre — DEAD, as someone once brought to his attention. He chuckled at the thought and spied Mya at her desk. “Good morning, Mya. How are you doing?”

“Doing well, thanks, Billy. You want a coffee or something?”

He raised his hand. “No, I’m good, but thanks.” He carried on into his office, noticing the partners had already arrived. Their meeting was scheduled for first thing this morning. The time was 8:45, so he had fifteen minutes to prepare. Not that anything remained outstanding. Billy had taken the steps necessary for whatever the partners decided.

He opened his bag and retrieved the checks written out to each of them. It took some effort, but he’d found a way to get the funds into the US without raising eyebrows or red flags. It turned out some of those shell companies remained, and it wasn’t that difficult moving the money into one of them since his father retained ownership. Was it legal? As far as Billy was concerned, it was simply part of his father’s estate of which he was the sole heir. He’d pay his estate taxes, and that would be that. If it wasn’t, well, that was a problem for another day. But Peter Galloway and his father had gotten away with this very thing for years, so why couldn’t he? Billy had once been tired of being looked down on by his peers. Now, he didn’t care.

The time had come. Billy made his way into the conference room, checks in hand, and stepped inside. Frank and Alan sat in their oversized leather chairs, wearing grim expressions.

“Good morning.” Billy sat down at the head of the table. “Thank you both for taking the time to get this wrapped up.”

“Did we have a choice?” Frank asked.

Billy pulled out his chair at the head of the table. “There’s always a choice, Frank.” He set down the checks in front of him. “So, what have you two decided?”

Frank and Alan exchanged glances. “We’ve both decided we’d prefer to stay on board,” said Frank. “As Ron’s shares in the firm were not bequeathed to an heir, then by the terms of the partnership agreement, anyone, including existing partners, may purchase them. If that is what you wish to do, Billy, then we are happy to agree to that.”

Billy pulled his shoulders back in the seat and rested his arms on the chair. “This is wonderful news. I admire both of you and the work you’ve done to help build this firm.” He eyed the checks. “I have secured a cashier’s check for the purchase price set forth in the partnership agreement—”

“What are the other checks for?” Alan asked.

“In case you decided to sell. But you didn’t.” He ripped up the other checks. “And I couldn’t be happier. So, we’ll amend the partnership agreement, get Ron’s name removed from the firm’s business filings.” He looked away. “Although it won’t have the same ring to it.”

“What’s that?” Frank asked.

Billy waved his hand. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” He picked up the file. “I’ll be moving into Ron’s office later today. I’ve hired some movers to help, so if you want anything from his office, please collect it soon. Otherwise, it’ll be donated.”

Frank stood from the table. “You’re taking his office?”

“Of course. I’m the controlling partner now. His office is mine.” Billy returned to his current office and closed the door. Part of him wanted to collapse on the ground, having expended every ounce of audaciousness he could muster. The other part of him wanted to revel in his victory. He’d been kind of an asshole to the partners, but then again, they never showed a great deal of respect to him anyway. That was about to change.

This entire nightmare had altered him in a profound way. Learning his father was a career criminal and a disgraced lawyer. Discovering the man who hired him only used him for his name and to hunt down some lost illegal treasure. Not to mention feeling threatened by a dangerous drug kingpin, who could’ve easily taken his life for looking at him wrong. Billy Dupre was done being a pushover and a sucker.

* * *

Vince Bodin waited in his cell for the guard to approach. He was about to meet with his lawyer. The unexpected visit set his nerves on end. The young man of barely twenty-three was staring at the next twenty years of his life behind bars. What more could his lawyer say in the matter?”

The guard stood at the cell door. “Step back, inmate, and turn around with your hands behind your back.”

Vince took several steps back and turned around. He knew the drill. The guard slapped cuffs on his wrists and spun him around to face the cell door.

“Come on. Your lawyer wants to see you.” The guard led Vince through the corridor to hoots and hollers. Spittle landed on his face as he walked past the cells. They all knew he was Sal Bodin’s son and were testing the waters. His life wasn’t going to be pretty inside these walls.

The guard reached a private room and opened the door, leading Vince inside. “Sit down, inmate. Put your hands on the table.”

Vince did as he was told and had his cuffs shackled to the iron ring. He waited only a moment before his lawyer entered.

“Good afternoon, Vince. How are you?” he asked, taking a seat.

“They haven’t told me if I’ll get to go to my dad’s funeral.”

“I’m still working on that, but I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.” The lawyer opened the file and peered at the documents inside. He turned up his gaze again. “Your sentence has been reduced. Ten years, down from twenty. Out in six with good behavior.”

Vince’s mouth fell agape. “What? Why? I don’t understand.”

“You can thank your brother, Quinten.” He retrieved the document and slid it over to Vince. “I just need you to sign this, and you’ll be on your way.”

“I don’t have a pen,” Vince replied.

The lawyer reached into an interior pocket of his suit jacket and retrieved one for him. “Here you go.” After Vince signed, he took back the pen and the document. “This is good news for you. You’ll be the only one to get out of here while you’re still young.”

As the lawyer gathered his things and prepared to leave, Vince called out to him. “What’s going to happen to my brother?”

The lawyer stopped at the door and turned back. “You’ll want to speak to his attorney. However, I’d suggest getting used to the idea of being the last Bodin standing.”

* * *

Detective Gauthier peered over the shoulder of the lead computer forensics technician in the Lafayette PD while he sat at his monitor. “You said you had it?”

“I do.” He keyed in several commands, and soon, the video appeared on his screen. “It’s taken some time, but I was able to get a clearer image of the man in the car who shot your victim.”

“And this is from the ATM footage?” Gauthier asked. “I thought you said it was too far?”

“It was, but I sent the footage to the FBI’s lab for analysis, and this is what they sent me back.” He pressed play.

Gauthier leaned closer with narrowed eyes. He watched the car pull up to Galloway as he hobbled down the street just outside Billy Dupre’s law firm. Galloway approached the vehicle as though he knew who sat behind the wheel. “This is where he mouths what I assume is the name of his killer.”

“He does say something, but I’m not a lip-reader, unfortunately,” the technician replied. “Keep watching.”

The video zoomed in on the driver. “What? How did they . . .?”

“The feds have far more sophisticated systems than we do.”

The driver rolled down his window as Galloway drew near, grinning. But as he seemed to notice the gun, the grin fell, and his eyes widened.

“This is where you’ll see it,” the tech continued.

Gauthier zeroed in on the car, holding his breath as he waited to catch a glimpse of who he was certain sat behind that wheel. “Oh my God. It’s him.” He pointed at the screen. “You see him too, right? It’s not just me.”

“That’s Quinten Bodin, yes, sir.”

Gauthier stepped back and dropped his shoulders in relief. “We got him. Holy shit, we got him for murder.” He patted the man’s shoulder and headed back to his desk. Colleagues passed him in the hall, and he smiled and waved, raising eyebrows among those who knew him. He was not a man who smiled a lot. But today was a momentous day. It marked the end of the Bodin empire. Salvatore Bodin was dead. His next in line, eldest son Quinten, would now spend the rest of his life behind bars.

Sure, Vince Bodin stood a chance at getting out soon enough, but the kid was no mastermind. And with all the Bodin assets now seized, he’d have no money left to restart the operation.

Gauthier arrived at his desk and dropped onto the chair. He grabbed his phone and made the call. “Agent Fontaine, is this a bad time?”

* * *

Remy drove on toward Alex’s home. She had been invited to dinner. And after a few days’ rest with her sister, she had made her decision. The time had come to tell her best friend. “Not a bad time at all, Detective. What can I do for you?”

“I thought I’d let you know that we got Quinten Bodin.”

Her lips parted in a smile. “How?”

“Our forensics team sent the ATM footage to the FBI field office. They analyzed it and returned it to our department.”

Remy waited with anticipation for him to continue.

“Long story short, they had the technology to clear the image of the driver who shot Galloway. Fontaine, it was, without a doubt, Quinten Bodin. He’s not getting out. Not ever.”

“That’s fantastic news, Detective. That means it’s over. They’re over.”

“Yes, ma’am. Between this, what your FBI friend in New Orleans did with the raid, and the fact you . . .”

“Killed Salvatore Bodin? Yes, I remember,” Remy replied.

Gauthier cleared his throat. “We all took down these guys. And they’re not coming back. I thought you’d want to know.”

“Thank you. And great work.”

“Back at you, Agent Fontaine. I’d be happy to work with you anytime. Take care.”

“You too, Detective. Goodbye.” Remy pressed the end call button on her steering wheel. She closed her eyes a moment and exhaled.

Alex’s home appeared as she turned the corner into the residential neighborhood. Gauthier’s timing couldn’t have been better. Now she could tell Alex and this entire investigation could be put to bed.

Remy parked her 4Runner on the curb fronting the home and climbed down. With the aid of her cane, she walked to the front door. It opened immediately with Alex behind it.

“You made it. Come on in. Dinner’s almost ready,” he said.

“Perfect timing then.” She stepped inside.

“How you doing? How’s your sister doing?” Alex asked as he closed the door.

“She’s great. She and Billy are doing much better now. In fact, I guess Billy’s remaining partners asked him if he was interested in purchasing Davis’s shares at a reduced price. He agreed, and now he’s the majority partner in the firm.”

“That’s fantastic. I’m happy for him.” Alex helped her inside. “Let’s sit down in the living room for a minute.”

Remy glanced into the kitchen and spotted Maggie at the stove. “Where are the kids?”

“With Maggie’s folks,” Alex replied. “I thought it would be nice to have some adult conversation this evening with a glass or two of wine.”

“Sounds great. I’m sorry I’ll miss the kids, though.” Remy took a seat on the couch.

“They’ll be sad too.” Alex sat down on the loveseat and took in a deep breath. “I know why you’re here, so I thought it’d be best to get it out of the way now so we can enjoy dinner.”

“Alex . . .”

“That’s not how I meant it. Sorry.” He sat back on the comfortable beige cushion and crossed a leg over his knee. “I’ll let you start.”

“I did just get some good news from Detective Gauthier,” she began. “He’s got the evidence to try Quinten Bodin for Peter Galloway’s murder.”

“Finally.” Alex nodded. “Now how about you quit stalling and tell me what you decided?”

“Sorry, right.” Remy sighed. “You should know that from day one, I admired you, Alex. The work you’ve done for the FAU. And I’m so happy you’ve been given the promotion. You truly deserved it.”

“Thank you. Please, Remy. Just say it.”

Her eyes reddened. “I’m resigning from the LBI.”

Alex clasped his hands and lowered his head. He remained quiet for several moments.

“Alex?” she asked. “Come on. Say something. You’re still my best friend. That won’t change.”

He looked up at her again. “Of course. That won’t change. So, I guess congratulations are in order, huh? Grayson must be happy.”

“I’m not going to work for the Marshals either, Alex.”

His brow knitted. “You’re not?”

“No. I did meet with the associate director. We had a nice long conversation. He said it would be unlikely I’d work in the field until I was released by my doctor to return to full duty.”

“When would that be?” Alex asked.

“I have no idea. And we both knew it was possible I might never return to full duty, but he wanted to give me a shot, which I appreciated. Truly. But ultimately, I would’ve let him down. I would’ve let Cole down and, more importantly, myself.”

Remy inhaled through her nose. “That food smells amazing.” She returned her attention to Alex. “I think I’ve come to the realization that my entire career has been predicated upon my need to fight back. To fight for those who couldn’t. And when my partner died, I lost a lot of that drive. I lost myself and my self-respect. And I started to realize maybe there was more to it than wanting to fight back. It started to feel more like a need for—”

“Revenge?” he asked.

“Revenge.” She smiled. “No one who holds a position in law enforcement should be in it for revenge. It goes against everything we’re taught about justice and protecting everyone.”

“It does.” He nodded. “But what are you going to do then, Remy? You’re still young. I know you’ll be back to your old self soon enough. And honestly, you are one of the best I’ve ever worked with. You are a force to be reckoned with. I know I’m not the only one who sees that.”

“That’s because I fought hard to get back at Kyle. I did whatever it took and paid the price for it.” She rubbed her thighs a moment. “I could’ve taken you and Cole down with me, and I almost did. That was when I knew I was in this for the wrong reasons. I thought I wanted to come back. I tried to make myself believe it was the right thing to do.”

“You don’t know what you’re going to do yet, do you?” Alex asked.

She chuckled. “I have no idea.”

Maggie walked into the living room. “Remy, oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you.” She thumbed back. “Why don’t you guys come on in. Dinner’s ready.”

* * *

Remy double checked the address on her phone as she drove down the quiet neighborhood street. “Yep, this is the place.” The numbers on the homes were hard to see in the dark, but the map on her phone showed the little blue dot in the right place, so this had to be it.

She stepped out into a warm evening as spring had come into full bloom. The sweet smell of magnolia trees felt inviting. Even in the dark, she noticed the neighboring homes appeared well-kept with neat lawns and tidy hedgerows. “Not bad.”

Remy walked to the front porch, admiring the white railing and columns. The dark blue shutters. It was quaint. Nothing extravagant. Two rocking chairs sat side by side on the right, overlooking the lush green lawn. It was then Remy heard another car approach. She turned to see the headlights flicker off as it pulled up behind her SUV.

Cole stepped out of his Tahoe, and she locked eyes with him as he walked toward her. His long legs and wide stride hastened his arrival.

“Hey, how long have you been here?” he asked.

“Not long.”

He kissed her and grabbed the keys. “You ready to see inside?”

“I am.”

Cole opened the door and turned on the light. The wood floor of the empty home gleamed under the recessed lighting. A large ceiling fan spun slowly in the center of the living room.

Remy took in her surroundings. A decent-sized kitchen lay just ahead. Built-in shelves on the back wall of the living room added a nice touch. “So, this is it, huh?”

Cole wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “If you like it, the owners said it’s ours to rent. What do you think?”

She turned to him, feeling lighter than she could ever recall. Maybe this was what happiness felt like. “I think this is the perfect place for us.”

He flashed a broad, gleaming white smile. “Me too, Remy.”

“Yeah.” She let her eyes roam. “I think we’ll be happy here.”

THE END

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Also by Robin Mahle

STANDALONE

THE CHEF

THE MAN IN MY ATTIC

REMY FONTAINE THRILLERS

Book 1: ORLEANS AVENUE

Book 2: TERREBONNE BAY

Book 3: BATON ROUGE

Book 4: RIVER RANCH

A Selection of Books You May Enjoy

EYESHOT

BY TAYLOR ADAMS

UK www.amazon.co.uk/gp/B00MRAZIIA

US www.amazon.com/gp/B00MRAZIIA

A THRILLER YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO PUT DOWN.

James and Elle Eversman are a young couple travelling through the Mojave desert on their way to a new life.

When their car mysteriously breaks down they are stranded in the middle of nowhere without much water and no cellphone reception.

A mile away a deadly sniper has them in his crosshairs. They are pinned down behind their broken-down car, surrounded by open ground in all directions.

There’s nowhere to run and no one to help them. How can they possibly survive?

With relentless tension, razor-sharp prose, and a surprising dose of dark humour, EYESHOT will keep you gripped till its stunning conclusion.

“An intelligent thriller as unstoppable and exacting as its villain, with heroes who are human and engaging. Riveting.”

T.J. Brearton (bestselling author of Habit)

HER PERFECT SECRET

BY T.J. BREARTON

UK www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09L1PZG98

US www.amazon.com/dp/B09L1PZG98

THE PERFECT FIANCÉ OR THE PERFECT LIAR?

It’s him. Tom. I helped put his mom in prison for life. She killed his father.

I recognize the sharp nose and flare to the nostrils. His thick eyebrows and defined cheekbones. But mostly it’s the eyes. Sea green.

THE CONCERNED MOTHER.

But my daughter, Joni, keeps calling him Michael. And they’re here at the lake house telling us they’re getting married.

SHE LOVES HIM. BUT I KNOW HE’S LYING.

It must be him. But how do I tell her? Suddenly I’m thrust back fifteen years, looking through photos of a violent and bloody murder scene.

I can’t be 100% sure.

We haven’t been the perfect family. But we got through it together. I will do anything to protect us, to protect the life we’ve fought for.

WHO DO YOU BELIEVE?

A gripping psychological thriller ready to be devoured by fans of K.L. Slater, Patricia MacDonald, Teresa Driscoll, Lisa Jewell, Natalie Barelli, Shalini Boland, Alex Michaelides and Susanna Beard.

IMPACT

BY MARK MILLS

UK www.amazon.co.uk/gp/B0B2B87WBT

US www.amazon.com/dp/B0B2B87WBT

FLORENCE WINSLOW WAKES UP IN HOSPITAL. THE NURSE TELLS HER SHE’S KILLED A MAN.

All she remembers is that she was driving down a deserted country road in northern Connecticut late at night on her way to visit her in-laws. A car hurtled out of nowhere and ploughed into her. She’s lucky to be alive. The other driver was killed on impact.

Dylan Bodine, an ambitious young detective, thinks Florence was extremely lucky. Too lucky perhaps.

The dead man had no ID and was driving a stolen vehicle. Piecing together the evidence, Dylan concludes someone wanted Florence dead.

As Dylan and his new partner, grizzled former FBI investigator Carrie Fuller, dig deeper, they discover that Florence isn’t just anyone. Her father-in-law is one of the wealthiest men in America.

And the two detectives are in a race against time to crack the case to keep Florence alive.

DISCOVER AN ABSOLUTELY BREATHTAKING CRIME THRILLER FULL OF TWISTS AND TURNS.