BATON

ROUGE

An absolutely addictive crime and mystery thriller filled with heart-pounding suspense

ROBIN MAHLE

Remy Fontaine Thrillers Book 3

Previously published as Final Witness

Revised edition 2024

Joffe Books, London

www.joffebooks.com

First published as Final Witness in the USA in 2022

© Robin Mahle 2022, 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: 978-1-83526-727-1

CONTENTS

Love Free Bestselling Fiction?

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

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Love Free Bestselling Fiction?

The Joffe Books Story

Also by Robin Mahle

A Selection of Books You May Enjoy

Love Free Bestselling Fiction?

Join our mailing list and get a FREE Kindle book from a bestselling author every week!

Click here to join our mailing list and also get a free box set of short stories!

Follow us on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram

@joffebooks

Chapter 1

Thank you for choosing this book. Join our mailing list and get FREE Kindle books from our bestselling authors every week!

CLICK HERE TO GET MORE LOVELY BOOK DEALS

Under a full moon, water droplets glistened on the grass in the backyard of the suburban home. A quick burst of rain had come and gone in this southeastern part of Baton Rouge known as Old Jefferson, and the skies cleared again. The downpour was welcomed in this oddly dry October.

Forty-five-year-old Beth Ann Surette sat on a deck chair in the middle of the damp lawn with her eyes fixed on the bright moon. Bleached blonde hair fell past her tanned shoulders and down her white tank top. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the chair’s arms, and with legs crossed, her foot rocked to the same beat.

The rear French door from the home flew open and rattled the glass as it struck the brick-clad wall. Beth refused to turn around, though she flinched at the clatter. Crickets ceased their chirps, and the cicadas went silent in the trees when the footfalls of her fiancé approached. His steps carried him beyond the concrete patio and quieted as he walked on the softened earth toward her chair.

Beth could easily imagine the look on his face right now. She’d seen it before. A twisted mouth, narrowed eyes, the vein on his forehead that always popped out when he fumed. But she would not relent, not this time.

Joel Edmunds was older, at fifty-two, and his face carried his age. “I told you to get inside.”

Yes, he was angry, and she felt that anger rain down on her as he stood at her back. “Not until you apologize for what you said, Joel.”

He placed his meaty hand on her petite shoulder. “You’re my fiancée and you do as I say, do you understand? Now, I told you to clean up the damn kitchen because I was sick of looking at those dishes.”

He grabbed the corner of the chair and flipped it on its side with Beth still in it. She tumbled to the ground and crawled away before returning to her feet. Her dark brown eyes now carried fear as she brushed off the grass from her knees and stood firm. Half his size, she’d never been this afraid of him, until now. “What the hell is wrong with you? I have a job, same as you, and I was tired, all right? I came out here for some peace and quiet, so if you have a problem with the dishes, do them yourself.”

Joel’s weathered face pinched tightly, deepening his wrinkles. His heavy five o’clock shadow hardened his cheeks. “You be careful what you say to me, Beth, you hear me?”

She looked into his eyes and knew then something had changed. A line had been crossed and there was no turning back. “You’re crazy, you know that? You lay one hand on me, and I swear I’ll call the cops.”

Joel’s full-bodied frame lurched toward her and he clenched his fists. “What did you just say to me?”

As strong as Beth was, having been married to a violent man once before, and now realizing she’d repeated history, she recognized the time had come to find a way out. There was no going back, so she darted her gaze in search of an exit.

Sweat formed at her hairline both from the warm, muggy night and the fear that crawled up her spine. She had loved Joel, yet he had become someone virtually unrecognizable this time. Fight or flight kicked in with a vengeance. Her petite size and agility were all she had going for her and so she zigzagged around the weightier man, making it to the patio, but she stumbled in bare feet on the raised edge of the cracked concrete. The ground rose quickly to meet her as she tried to break her fall with her hands. Her toes scraped the concrete and one of them bent back far enough that it was no doubt broken.

“You won’t make it out of this house.” Joel lumbered toward her as she pushed off the ground and returned to her feet. He yanked on her bare arm and pulled her close. “Don’t try to run from me, you understand?”

“You’re hurting me,” she called out. “Let me go. I swear to you, Joel, I’ll press charges. Let me go now!”

He widened his stance for better traction against her thrashing body as she worked to free herself from him. “Don’t make me do this, Beth.”

“Then stop. Stop hurting me and let me go.” Her voice faltered beneath a tidal wave of tears. “Let me go, Joel. Please. I promise, I’ll do the dishes, okay? I’ll do them right now and we can forget all this.” She watched his eyes wander toward the ground where landscape rocks bordered the patio. Oh, God.

Joel threw her down and reached for a large river rock.

On her back, Beth raised her arms to shield her face while Joel straddled her and pressed his knees against her arms to hold them down.

He raised the stone high above her. “This is your fault. You made me do this.”

His tone was distorted, his face twisted with rage, and she looked into his eyes. “No, please.”

The rock came down against her skull and blood spewed as bone caved under the force. He raised it again as it dripped with Beth’s blood, and with a howl, Joel smashed it down on her again. And again. And again.

* * *

An event so seemingly benign like an introduction to someone had the potential to change the outcome of one’s life. It happened all the time. And it’d happened to Remy Fontaine when she was just a smart-ass college freshman who thought she had this world in her back pocket. But all that changed the day she met Kyle DeChamp.

Now, almost fifteen years after Remy’s testimony had sent DeChamp to prison, he was preparing for life on the outside. She was the last victim still alive, or still on the grid, who could try to prevent that from happening. And if her words were enough, if DeChamp was denied parole, it would be just the beginning of Remy’s problems.

Perched on the pool’s edge, dangling her feet in the coolness, her thoughts were interrupted by a shadow in the water.

From behind her, Claire called out, “Remy? Do you want to come inside? The mosquitos are coming out, so Billy and I thought we’d go put on a movie or something.”

The thirty-three-year-old FAU agent had braved the dusky Baton Rouge evening. Her eyes drifted back to her sister. She was a beautiful woman, dark ash blonde hair, just like Remy’s, except she wore hers short and straight. She had a slender figure, even after having a kid. Remy didn’t have children, though she was sure her figure would never bounce back. “I’ll come inside in a minute.”

“Okay, but take this.” Claire set down a can of bug spray. “Put it on before the mosquitos eat you alive. At least it’s starting to cool down. Maybe by the time Halloween comes, Isaiah won’t swelter in his costume.” She turned on her heel. “Don’t be long. You’ll miss the beginning of the movie.”

“What are you putting on?” Remy asked.

“It’s Isaiah’s pick, so . . .”

“Got it.” Remy chuckled. “I’ll be in soon.”

Claire Dupre’s home was where Remy often escaped the reality of her life inside the Louisiana Bureau of Investigation. The older sister, by only two years, Claire was wise far beyond that. She was the only family Remy had left in this world, except for her precocious four-year-old nephew, Isaiah. Married to Billy Dupre, a lawyer by trade, Claire had a good life which she deserved. Their paths diverged long ago, and only when Remy was discovered half-dead and strung out did Claire’s wings spread far and wide to protect her sister from the man who now sat in prison.

Remy heard the sliding glass door close behind her and picked up her bottle of beer that had grown too warm in the autumn evening.

In the short time that Remy had been with the Fugitive Apprehension Unit of the LBI, only two people there knew, at least a little, about her past — Special-Agent-in-Charge Marcus Hubert, the man who’d recruited her out from under the Louisiana State Police, and colleague, Alex Chasse, a man who’d faced down death right alongside her on their first case together.

However, with the parole hearing only two weeks away, the media would return and so would the spotlight on Remy. It had been a case years in the making, and it only took one determined young woman to bring it down. She knew, though, after an ill-fated visit with DeChamp months ago that he wasn’t finished with her.

* * *

Baton Rouge Police Detective Trevor Blake arrived at the home of Joel Edmunds. A call had come into the station at eight p.m. regarding a domestic disturbance. When the responding officer arrived, the home was unlocked and that was when he found the dead woman in the backyard.

Detective Blake stepped out of his 2015 tan Buick Lacrosse he’d picked up for a steal from the police department auction house. The forty-three-year-old veteran detective was always a penny-pincher, which may have been the reason his wife had left him a few years ago.

He rolled up the sleeves of his white button-down shirt and placed his weapon in the belt holster. The night air had cooled from earlier in the day, but he hailed from Wisconsin, and it was sixty-three degrees right now. Might as well have been summer.

The Midwesterner wore his light brown hair long and a little unkempt. Some people had taken to calling him The Dude, a reference for fans of The Big Lebowski. A final puff of his cigarette and he flicked it onto the street before heading up the driveway of the ranch-style Baton Rouge home.

The red-brick house with a black painted door and shutters had a small porch with a couple of old chairs out front, a single off-set window a few feet from the door, and a potted plant in the corner that hadn’t been watered for some time.

Patrol cars lined the driveway, and the front door was open with officers coming and going. Blake reached the entrance. “Anyone see Officer Kane?”

“He’s in the backyard, Detective,” a uniform replied.

“Thanks.” Blake walked through the home and scrutinized the rooms. In the kitchen, the cast-iron sink was full of dishes. The butcher-block counters were cluttered with small appliances. The living room ahead had two ashtrays tipped over onto the floor, a can of beer lying on the oak coffee table, and an old brown sofa which was stained and had a tear in one of the arms. “You didn’t have much money to spare.” When he reached the French door that led to the backyard, he stopped a moment and peered through the glass inserts. The responding officer, Kane, stood near the body with another officer next to him. They hovered over the victim as if she was an obstruction they weren’t quite sure how to get around.

He stepped outside. “Officer Kane.”

“Detective Blake. Coroner’s on the way. You want to come take a look?”

“Sure, why not?” He shook away rogue strands of hair and stopped just inches from where the victim lay on the ground. She was on her back. Her blonde curly hair was matted with blood and her arms were extended with bruises visible on the inner part of her biceps. “Oh Christ.” Blake stared at what had once been the woman’s face. “How far have you gotten?”

“The Crime Lab should be here any minute to start documenting the scene . . .”

Blake set his sights to the goings-on around him. “Why the hell are these guys milling around like they’re at a goddam garden party? We need to clear out this place so we can see what the hell we’re dealing with.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of that now.” Kane glanced at his colleague as they retreated inside.

Blake squatted low and examined the woman. “My God.” Next to her body lay the bloody rock used to bludgeon her, and on closer inspection, he noticed a possible thumb print in the blood. Maybe a forefinger too. His eyes roamed over her and he caught sight of her toes. The nail on her left big toe was gone. The little toe on her right foot was bent back and appeared broken. “You tried to get away but fell.” Blake laced his fingers and exhaled through his nose. “He caught up to you.”

“Detective Blake?”

He peered up at Kane again. “Yeah?”

“The photos on the mantel . . . we ought to check this guy out.”

“Show me.” He followed Kane inside to the framed pictures on the fireplace mantel.

“Men’s clothes are hanging in the master bedroom,” Kane began. “And these pictures here, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say this guy is the one who smashed in her skull.”

Blake leaned in closer to the photo and took in the image of an older man, twice the size of the slightly younger woman beside him. He was smiling and had an arm wrapped around her amid the ocean’s backdrop. They looked happy. “Who owns this house?”

“The neighbor who called in the report said it belongs to Joel Edmunds and his fiancée Beth Ann Surette.”

“Fiancée?” Blake picked up his phone and snapped a picture of the framed photo. “He’s probably our guy, but I’ll get started on a background. Did the neighbor see or hear him leave?”

“She’s over there if you want to talk to her, but she’s pretty shaken up . . .”

“Thanks.” Blake retreated to the entry where an older woman in her sixties stood just inside. “Evening, ma’am. I’m Detective Trevor Blake, BRPD. You called this in?”

“Yes, sir. I heard loud voices and it caught me off guard because these folks are generally pretty quiet. Keep to themselves most of the time. I see Beth come out to go to work in the mornings and come home. We say ‘hi’ in passing, but that’s the extent of our relationship.” She folded her arms over her large bosom. “I never thought he could do something like this.”

“Mr. Edmunds?” Blake asked.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t see anyone else’s car or nothing, so I figured it was him.”

“Did you see him leave?” He pressed on.

“I heard him. Well, I thought I heard him. I mean, his car’s not here, so I guess he took off.” Her deep-set eyes reddened. “I just can’t believe he killed her.”

“Ma’am, can you tell me the kind of car he was driving?”

“Joel drives an old black Ford Fusion, I believe. Something like that, anyway,” she replied.

“Thank you. The officer over there will take your statement soon and you’ll be free to go.”

She pulled down her long sweater. “What’s going to happen now?”

Blake rubbed his chin. “We’ll find whoever killed your neighbor and if it was her husband . . .”

“They were engaged,” she said. “Supposed to get married in a few weeks. I know because I got invited.”

Blake returned a tight-lipped grin and nodded. “Right. Thank you, ma’am.” He stepped onto the front porch and raised his phone to his ear. “Hey, can you run the name Joel Edmunds for me? Resides at 8349 Sweet Gum Road. I’ll shoot you a picture now. Call me back ASAP. Thanks.”

* * *

As much as Remy loved her nephew Isaiah, there were only so many kids’ movies she could stomach. Offering a vague reason for her early departure, Remy returned home to her apartment near Downtown as Sunday drew to a close.

She keyed the lock and turned on the hall light, slipping off her flip flops in the entry as she continued inside. Remy pulled off her light sweater, laying it over the kitchen chair, and tugged down her white top. Her khaki shorts swung on her narrow hips as she made her way to the kitchen. A bottle of beer awaited her inside the fridge and Remy twisted off the cap.

Her phone on the kitchen table rang, and she glanced at the caller ID before answering. “Hi.”

“Hey, are you home?”

It had been a few months since Remy and Deputy US Marshal Cole Grayson had worked together on the Dunn case. The tragic end still weighed on her mind, and at the time, she’d decided it was best to leave Grayson alone. That decision was quickly overturned when he called her last month and they’d met for dinner.

“Yeah, I just got back from my sister’s house. Where are you?”

“Outside your door,” he replied.

“You are not.” A wide smile graced her lips.

“I am.”

She heard the knock, padded to the door, and opened it. “Are you serious?”

“I am serious.” Grayson ended the call and held her gaze with a knowing smile. “I was in the area and thought I’d drop by.”

“In the area, huh? Looks to me like you’ve been stalking my apartment.” She stepped aside. “Come in.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I promise you, I was in the area.” The six-foot-two US Marshal with light blue eyes and dark brown hair meandered into her entryway. “I took a shot you’d be here since it’s Sunday night and all.”

“I guess you got lucky, then.” Remy closed the door behind him. “You want a beer?”

“Of course.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his relaxed jeans and continued inside. His black T-shirt clung to his well-formed chest. “How’s Claire and the family?”

“Fine.” She returned with his beer. “We had a nice barbecue and ate outside until the mosquitos came out.”

“Sounds fun. Maybe you’ll introduce me sometime, huh?” He kissed her cheek. “Thanks for the beer.”

“We’ll see.” Remy returned to the sofa. “So what brings you by? You have a witness in protection somewhere around here?”

He joined her on the couch. “If I did, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. Are you mad I stopped by?”

“What? No, not at all.”

“You sure? Because I can leave if you want me to,” he added.

“Stop.” She placed her hand on his thigh. “I’m glad you’re here, okay? I think you know me well enough by now that I’d tell you otherwise.”

“I reckon you would.” He took a sip of his beer.

“Did you eat dinner? I can call in for some pizza,” Remy said.

“No, I’m good. I just wanted to see you.”

“Is that all?” She turned squarely to him. “Just to see me?”

He placed his hand on her cheek. “Well, if I told you the real reason I came, I’m not sure you’d be okay with that.”

Remy took his hand from her cheek and kissed his palm. “Oh yeah? Try me.”

Chapter 2

Blake had been a detective with the Baton Rouge PD for nearly six years, and in that time, he’d seen exactly eight dead bodies. Dead from unnatural causes, that is. And Beth Ann Surette was the worst he’d ever seen. The notion that what happened to her was done by a man she was about to marry made it even more important he find Joel Edmunds before he slipped away.

Junior Detective Reese Fontenot poked his head into Blake’s office. “Hey, I got back some news on your suspect.”

“Come in. What’d you find?” Blake closed the lid of his laptop.

Fontenot handed over a file folder. “This guy has a past. CSI pulled prints and found a match in the national database to a suspect in a murder investigation in Orlando back in 2005. Guy killed his wife and daughter.”

Blake flipped the pages in the file. “And he’s been running ever since?”

“Sure as hell looks like it. He’s going by the name Joel Edmunds, but his real name is Jack Eaton. Guess he wanted to keep his initials.”

“Any sightings on the Ford Fusion?” Blake asked.

“Nothing yet. We’ve got the BOLO out state-wide. Every cop in the city knows who to look for. He just needs to pop his head out from whatever hole he’s in so we can spot him. What do you want to do in the meantime?”

Blake tossed the file onto his desk and pulled up in his chair. “Get me the name of the detective who ran the Orlando investigation. Pull phone and bank records. We may need the help of the LBI on this one. I’ll run it by the lieutenant and get her take first. Problem is, this guy disappeared for seventeen years. He probably thinks he can do it again.”

* * *

The elevator doors parted on the floor of the Fugitive Apprehension Unit and Remy walked inside on this Monday morning. Colleague, Kevin Ketner, was at his desk next to hers. She smiled as she approached. “Hey, Kevin, how was your weekend?”

He peered up at her with full cheeks raised in a smile. In his mid-forties, Ketner had worked in the Criminal Division of the LBI for about a year prior to transferring to the FAU. Most everyone in this unit started with the Criminal Division. “Same as always. Watched some football. Saints lost.”

She sat down at her desk. “I heard.”

“It was a damn blowout.” His face masked in disgust. “Anyway, not much else besides that, but I hear Hubert has a few cases coming down the pike. Oh, and I heard Elliot’s back.”

“He is?” Remy had only briefly met the elusive Elliot Gainor. Since she’d started here, they’d talked maybe twice. Apparently, he’d been working covertly, so to hear he was back was good news. “Maybe I’ll actually get to have a conversation with him, then, huh?”

“If you’re lucky.” Ketner’s attention was drawn ahead when Hubert appeared in the bullpen.

“Morning.” Special-Agent-in-Charge Marcus Hubert, a full-waisted man in his fifties, approached the team. “First of all, I’d like to say welcome back to this man right here.” He gestured toward Gainor, who’d appeared from beyond the corridor. “I know I speak for the entire team when I say we’re glad to have you back.”

Remy eyed Gainor — he appeared almost embarrassed by the attention. Elliot Gainor was a stout man. Gray hair worn in a crew cut, high and tight. Big round eyes, an unusual shade of light brown. He’d had a military background, Marines, she thought, served in Afghanistan for at least one tour. He was the last piece of the FAU puzzle. Celia Figaro and Pete Milner rounded out the team.

“Thanks everyone, but I know we all do the job,” Gainor began. “I’m just glad to be back.”

Hubert clapped his hands. “Okay then. Now that’s settled. I’m sitting down with CD here this morning for a briefing on some possible new cases, so let’s get back to work.”

Remy stood from her desk and approached Gainor. “Hi, Agent Gainor, Remy Fontaine. It’s been a while since we’ve spoken.”

“Fontaine. Glad to see you’re still here and Chasse and the others haven’t run you out of town yet.”

“Not a chance.” She shook his hand. “Listen, I know we haven’t had an opportunity to work together yet, but I hope we do in the future. I’m sure I’d stand to learn a lot from you.”

“Back at you, Fontaine. I know your history. Ten years as a trooper is nothing to sneeze at. Anyway, I have a ton to catch up on, but thanks for the welcome.”

“Sure.” She spotted Alex emerge from the corridor. “Alex, hey. How was your weekend?”

“All right. Maggie and the kids went shopping for Halloween costumes.”

Alex Chasse was a former detective in Shreveport and had spent two years in the LBI Criminal Division before moving to Fugitive Apprehension some five years earlier. His picture was on the wall, and Remy recalled it the first time she arrived at this office.

The thirty-eight-year-old husband and father had a youthful, handsome face. He had short black hair styled to one side and was a little soft around the middle. But Remy adored him and he, her. She’d spent time with his family and had grown close to his wife, Maggie. She was glad to have him in her life. He was the exact opposite of Max Peña.

“Sounds like Hubert’s heading into a meeting with CD. Looking to get us some new cases,” Remy said.

“And the other stuff? How’s that going?” Alex shoved his hands into his pockets.

“The hearing isn’t for two more weeks. I’m still preparing my statement.”

“You know, you don’t have to deliver it in person. You can write it down and send it in. No one says you have to be there and see him, Remy.”

“I know, but I feel like I have to do this. I have to be sure Kyle DeChamp never sees the outside of a prison cell ever again. They need to know what he did a few months ago. Contacting me—”

“The warden already knows that,” Alex cut in. “Listen, it’s your decision, obviously, but if you need a friend there, you know you can count on me.”

“I do know that. And thanks, Alex.”

He tossed a nod over her shoulder and Remy turned around. “Good morning, sir.”

“Remy, Alex. You both have a good weekend?” Hubert asked.

“Sure, yeah, it was fine,” she replied.

“Well, hell, Remy, could you be any less convincing? And you, Alex?”

“It was all right, sir.”

“Good. Cause I just got a visitor from Baton Rouge PD. I was heading into a meeting but let’s have a sit-down and chat with our brother in blue.” Hubert turned on his heel and headed back to his office.

Remy and Alex followed.

“Remy, come on in and close the door,” Hubert began. “This is Detective Trevor Blake, BRPD. This is Agent Remy Fontaine and Agent Alex Chasse.”

Blake stood and pushed his hand through his tousled hair. “Agent Fontaine, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“Agent Chasse. Pleasure.” He extended a greeting to Alex.

“Good to meet you, Detective.”

“Why don’t you let Fontaine and Chasse in on the situation,” Hubert began. “If y’all would take a seat. You’ll want to pay attention to this one.”

“Thank you, SAC Hubert,” Blake began. “Last night, a call came in about a domestic incident. When officers arrived on scene, they found the body of a forty-five-year-old female in her backyard, bludgeoned to death by a river rock. Wasn’t much left of her face, so we relied on photos from around the house. Long story short, she was engaged to a man named Joel Edmunds.”

“He killed her?” Remy asked.

“That’s how it’s starting to look. You know, if it quacks like a duck . . . But here’s the kicker. It wasn’t his first time. He’s been on the run for murdering his wife and child back in ’05 in Orlando. And at that time, he went by the name Jack Eaton.”

“So he’s been running a long time,” Remy said.

“Yes, ma’am. That’s why I’m here. I need the help of this department if I stand a chance of finding this man.”

“That’s where you two come in,” Hubert added. “You’ll both take point from here while Detective Blake gathers information from the previous case. We’ll make our resources available to him.”

“I’ve reached out to the original investigator in Orlando, a retired detective by the name of Munoz,” Blake said.

“Retired?” Remy asked.

“Yes, ma’am. He’ll be handing over all his files and will be available to answer questions, but not much else. So, Agent Fontaine, Agent Chasse, what do you think? Can you lend a hand?”

She and Alex traded glances and she turned back to Blake. “We’re ready to hit the ground running.”

* * *

Blake stepped into his Buick Lacrosse and waited for the agents to enter. The sun reflected off the hood and obscured Blake’s vision as he keyed the ignition. “Appreciate you both stepping in. I don’t often get to work with the LBI.”

“Full disclosure, I’m still the rookie around here. Chasse is the senior agent on the team. I was a state trooper for ten years before this gig,” Remy replied as she slipped onto the backseat.

“Is that so?” He nodded as if impressed. “I’m surprised we never crossed paths before now. I bet we know some of the same folks.”

“I’m sure we do,” she said. “I still talk to the guys over there every now and again. Mostly, though, this job keeps me hopping.”

Alex was in the front passenger seat and cut in. “And dodging bullets.”

“I’ll bet.” Blake soon arrived at the Edmunds’ home. “This is the place. I’ll give you both a rundown of the scene.”

Alex turned to Blake as they walked along the sidewalk leading to the home. “What’s CSI come up with so far?”

Blake reached the front porch. “Prints on the murder weapon. We know who our guy is, so anything they find is just gravy at this point.”

Remy trailed him. “How long have you worked Homicide?”

Blake stepped inside the darkened home with the curtains still drawn. “Six years. I was a beat cop for three years before that, and before that, I transferred from Madison, Wisconsin, after a three-year stint in Traffic.”

“Traffic? Wow, you have worked your way up the ranks,” Remy replied.

“And you? You woke up one morning and decided to become a state trooper?”

There was a hell of a lot more to it than that, but Remy kept that part of her life hidden from most people. “I guess you could say that. Then, last year, SAC Hubert recruited me out from under them and said my talents were better served in his unit. So, here I am.”

“Okay, now the small talk is out of the way, how about I give you the rundown of what I know right now?” Blake made his way to the French door and opened it to step outside.

Remy and Alex followed him. “It happened out here?” Remy asked, noticing the blood stain on the concrete.

“Yep.” He reached the spot. “Victim was found on her back. Edmunds bashed in her head with a large rock.”

Remy examined the scene a moment before turning back to the house. “You mentioned the victim was engaged to Edmunds.”

“That’s right. The neighbor who called it in gave a statement to that effect. We’re still in the process of contacting the victim’s family.”

“He murders his wife and daughter seventeen years ago, then starts a new life here, stays quiet for a very long time, then what, something snapped in him?” Alex asked. “Why would he risk killing again?”

Blake rubbed his stubbly cheek and returned inside. “Good question. He’s older, fifty-two now. No motive was ever uncovered as to why he killed his family in Orlando. I haven’t fully reviewed the files yet, but by all accounts, he snapped then too.” He walked toward the fireplace mantel and gazed at the photos. “Looking at these pictures. I’m not seeing a man on the verge of murder.”

Remy glanced at the photo. “No. She looks younger.”

“Forty-five,” he added.

“What about any similarities between her and the wife he murdered?” Alex asked.

“Don’t know yet,” Blake replied. “All I know is that we need to figure out where this guy went.”

“He won’t keep the car. It’ll be dumped soon if it hasn’t been already,” Remy said. “Our best bet is to talk to his coworkers, friends. He obviously didn’t have family here but maybe she did. Maybe one of them had a feeling about Joel, something they didn’t like. That’s where we need to start.”

Blake planted his hands on his hips. “We should consider the possibility our victim, Beth Ann, discovered what her fiancé kept from her about his past and confronted him. That could’ve been the catalyst. I’m thinking seventeen years is a long time to just flip a switch and decide to kill a woman you were about to marry.”

Remy continued to walk through the home. She entered the master bedroom and studied the unmade bed. Some men’s clothes were strewn on the floor. The closet doors were open, and a section of the hanging rod was empty. “You had time to pack a few things, didn’t you?”

Alex soon joined her. “What are you thinking?”

She spun around. “That he had time to pack a bag. Clothes appear to be missing.” Remy walked toward the small master bathroom. “Only one toothbrush.” She turned back to find Blake had joined them. “You said the call came in from a neighbor who heard raised voices.”

“That’s right.”

“That wouldn’t have given him the kind of time it would’ve taken to gather a few things.”

“I don’t think so, no.” Blake peered around the room. “So, he planned it.”

Remy nodded. “He planned it. The question is, why? What could’ve happened for him to risk exposure after all these years?”

“If she’d found out and confronted him, he would’ve acted impulsively to silence her,” Blake said. “I don’t think that was the situation here.”

“I agree,” Remy began. “There’s a chance someone else found out. A friend or coworker. Sent him a message to tell him they knew. That would give him time to plan his exit. Although, that doesn’t explain why he’d murder Beth Ann.” Remy folded her arms and peered again at the bed. “Something or someone threatened him with exposure I think.” She turned to Blake. “The question at hand, however, is where did Edmunds go?”

Blake sighed. “I’m all ears as to how you propose we go about answering that.”

She glanced at Alex. “We’ll find out what he was up to in the days leading up to this. This was a planned exit strategy, which involved the murder of his current fiancée. We send out a BOLO on the vehicle—”

“Already done,” Blake cut in.

“Right. Then let’s get this guy’s face out there,” Alex replied.

“What? You want to invite the hundreds of false tips and leads that will send us chasing our tails?” Blake asked.

Remy continued walking around the room. “Yes. I want to bring out anyone who knew this guy and who may have known what he did before.”

Chapter 3

Elliot Gainor folded the torn slip of paper into a square while he waited for Hubert in his office. He’d been the Nowhere Man for almost a year, and it was time to finish what he’d started. But he couldn’t do it alone. It had been Hubert’s call to take this next step and time was running out.

The door opened and Hubert walked in. “Sorry to have kept you waiting.” He returned to his desk. “So, what’s our next move?”

Elliot reached for the file and handed it over. “We know DeChamp’s parole hearing is in two weeks, and we know Fontaine plans to offer a statement against his release.”

Hubert eyed him. “And you want me to convince her to hold off on her statement?”

“You have to convince her to state that she’s in favor of it,” he added. “Sir, we need DeChamp to be released. It’s the only way we end this.”

“Dear Lord.” Hubert tossed the file onto his desk. “And what the hell do I tell Remy? She doesn’t have a clue what you’ve been working on for damn near a year. I was kept in the dark too. And now you want her to tell the board to release that man?”

Gainor pursed his lips. “We don’t know which way the board will go even with a recommendation. Given what DeChamp did, this is already an uphill battle, but it’s the only card we have up our sleeves.”

“You must have a backup plan,” Hubert continued.

“We have people who can help convince the board. People who understand what’s at stake if he stays on the inside. Sir, the FBI has our back on this too.”

Hubert scoffed. “I wouldn’t count on that, son. They’ll do whatever suits their needs and that could change with the wind, you hear me? I’ve worked with those fellas before.”

“Yes, sir, but I have to rely on someone. The real question here is, what are you going to tell Fontaine?”

* * *

Beth Ann’s sister, Marcia Alcott, was sitting on the rocker on her front porch when Detective Blake and the FAU agents arrived at the house. What they knew about Joel Edmunds was who he had been back in 2005. What they needed to understand now was who he had become after seventeen years on the run. And why he would choose to kill again.

Remy looked through the passenger window as Blake rolled to a stop in front of the house. “So, we know she’s already identified her sister’s remains?”

“Yep.” Blake shoved the gearshift into Park. “Now we talk to her and see what she knows about the man who would’ve been her brother-in-law.” He opened the driver’s side door and stepped out, squinting in the noonday sun.

Remy turned back to Alex in the backseat. “You ready?”

“Yep.”

They joined Blake as he walked up the steps and opened the flap of his black suit jacket to retrieve his badge. “Detective Blake, Baton Rouge PD. Ms. Alcott?”

“That’s me.” The heavy-set older woman wore her brunette hair long and with a tight curl. Her brown eyes appeared puffy. She stood from the rocker wearing long linen shorts and a loose-fitting red top. “You folks are the ones supposed to find that asshole, Joel?” Her gravelly voice was either from habitual smoking or she yelled a lot.

“Yes, ma’am.” Blake gestured to the agents. “And we have the Louisiana Bureau of Investigation here to help out. This is Agent Fontaine, and this is Agent Chasse.”

Remy offered her hand. “I’m very sorry for your loss, ma’am.”

“Keep your condolences. No offense, but you didn’t know Beth Ann, so your words ring hollow to me.” She turned on her heel. “Come on in. It’s too damn hot to talk out here.”

The home was a nineties throwback with light gray carpet, worn and stained, stark-white walls and sheet vinyl flooring in the entry and kitchen. The overstuffed burgundy sofa and loveseat with oak side tables and brass lamps completed the time warp.

“So, Ms. Alcott, had you spent much time around Joel since your sister met him?” Blake asked.

“Have a seat. Can I get y’all anything? Sweet tea, water?” she asked.

“No, thank you, ma’am. We’re fine.” Remy sat on the sofa next to Alex.

“All good here, but thanks.” Blake lowered himself onto the loveseat.

“You can call me Marcia.” She returned to a side chair and shook her head. “I never figured what she saw in him. He wasn’t nothing to look at. Older than she was. Hell, he’s older than me. Didn’t have no money, at least, not from what she told me.”

“Did Beth Ann mention to you that she was afraid for her safety, or that Joel had been acting differently lately?” Remy asked.

“No, ma’am. I hadn’t noticed anything different. She was excited for the wedding. It would’ve been her third, so she was hardly a blushing bride, but excited nonetheless.”

“No kids?” Blake pressed on.

“Nope. Never wanted them either.”

Remy was ready to cut off this interview. They weren’t getting anywhere and yet the man they were after was on the run, gaining ground on them with every passing second. But for the moment, Blake was leading the charge, until they were up to speed. That had happened a few hours ago, as far as she was concerned. But it was important to remain on good terms with the PD. She would need them at some point.

“Anything else you can think of, Marcia, that might tell us where Joel would be headed?” Blake asked.

“If I knew that, I would’ve said so already.” She looked away with tears in her eyes. “Son of a bitch killed my sister and for what?”

Blake got to his feet. “We’ll find him, Marcia. In the meantime, if you think of anything else, please reach out to me or to Agents Fontaine and Chasse.”

She took the card from him. “Sure thing.”

* * *

The curtains were drawn with only scant light slipping in around them. Lamps burned on the side tables in the living room while a small flat-screen TV broadcast an afternoon talk show with the volume turned off.

Joel Edmunds stood in front of a small vanity sink with a pink towel over his shoulders. He examined his hair in the bathroom mirror, now black and still dripping from the dye. The light stubble on his face, now gone, though the deep lines around his mouth had become more obvious.

A woman appeared in the doorway and leaned on the frame. “Looks pretty good. You want me to cut it shorter?”

Edmunds glanced at her through the mirror. “You cut it pretty short already. Any more and I’ll be bald.”

A smile played on her lips as she cocked her head and folded her arms. Her over-processed blonde hair was worn in medium length curls that looked as though they might break were anyone to touch them. Her lips were a dark red and her eyes were heavily painted in earth tones. “You could pull it off.”

He examined his hair again. “I’d better rinse this out before I get black everywhere. You want to get us some food?”

“Sure.” The forty-eight-year-old woman with a slender figure meandered into the living room of her apartment wearing shorts and a tight T-shirt. She snatched her keys from the side table and pulled back the curtain to peer through the front window.

“Wendy, don’t open the door unless it’s clear,” Edmunds called out.

“I know. No one knows you’re here, babe. I don’t see anyone outside.”

“Just watch your back,” he called out again.

“Yeah, I got it.”

Edmunds leaned over the sink and rinsed away the excess color, pulling back up and covering his head with the towel. As he wiped a few drips from his face, he glanced at his right hand. “Shit.” The cuts from the battle with Beth Ann were obvious now and one of them cracked and bled again. “Goddam it.” He unfurled toilet paper from the roll and pressed it against his hand. “Stupid bitch.”

Joel returned to the living room with towel-dried hair and turned up the volume on the TV. With the remote in his hand, he switched channels to see if any local news was on and whether he was the top story. But as it was barely two in the afternoon, all that aired were soap operas and talk shows. Edmunds tossed the remote onto the sofa and walked to the living room window of Wendy’s one-bedroom apartment. He pulled open one side of the curtain just enough to peek through with one eye. The parking lot was quiet. He was safe inside the city, but how long he could stay remained unclear.

Wendy had helped him dump his car in the canal late last night and then they’d driven straight here.

Over the past several weeks, Beth Ann had felt like an albatross. And then, about a month ago, he’d met Wendy. They’d hit it off well at the bar that night and she’d brought him here. How long would it be before she figured out who he was? He’d better hope he was long out of Baton Rouge before that happened.

* * *

Now that Remy and Alex were up to speed on the investigation, Blake worked his angle, and it was time for them to work theirs. Tracking was what they did best.

Inside the manufacturer’s building where Edmunds worked, Remy stepped up to the reception area. “LBI Agent Remy Fontaine. This is Agent Alex Chasse. We’d like to speak with the manager or owner regarding Joel Edmunds. We understand he works here.”

The twenty-something woman behind the counter sized her up. “I can have HR come talk to you.”

“Actually, it should probably be someone in charge,” Remy replied. “We’re looking for Mr. Edmunds and it’s critical we find him.”

“All right.” She picked up the phone. “Jen, I’ve got the LBI here to talk to Mr. Wingate . . . uh, the badge says Louisiana Bureau of Investigation. They’re here about Joel Edmunds. Okay, thank you.” She ended the call and returned to Remy. “Mr. Wingate’s assistant is going to ask him if he can spare a few minutes. Please feel free to take a seat over there.”

“Thank you.” Remy led the way to the lobby chairs and sat down. Alex sat next to her. “They don’t know what he did by the sounds of it.”

“BRPD is doing a good job keeping a lid on the story,” Alex replied. “That won’t last long.”

“No, it won’t.” Remy glanced over her shoulder. “That could be our guy now.” She stood again. “Mr. Wingate?”

“That’s me.” He approached them with curiosity in his gaze and dressed in a blue button-down with a tie and black dress pants. “How may I help you both?”

“We’d like to speak to you about one of your employees. Mr. Joel Edmunds.” Remy displayed her badge. “It’s important that we find him.”

“Of course. We can talk in my office.” He led the way to the back and held open his door. “Please, take a seat.” He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. As he returned to his desk, he looked at Remy. “You’re with the Louisiana Bureau of Investigation?”

“Yes, sir. Fugitive Apprehension. This is my partner, Agent Alex Chasse. We understand Mr. Edmunds has worked here for the past three years.”

“Fugitive Apprehension? Uh, I don’t have his file in front of me, but I can get it for you.” He reached for his desk phone.

“That’s all right,” Remy cut in. “What’s important is that we know whether he was here yesterday, which we believe he was, and who he spoke with.”

Wingate folded his hands and laid them on top of his desk. “I’m sorry, can I ask what this is about?”

Remy glanced at Alex before she continued. “Mr. Edmunds isn’t who you think he is. His real name is Jack Eaton and he’s wanted for the murder of his wife and daughter in Orlando back in 2005. More recently, we’re now looking for him in relation to the death of his live-in fiancée, Beth Ann Surette. We need to know who he spoke to yesterday and what was said.”

Wingate’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. I had no idea. Yes, of course, you can speak to whoever you need. I’ll find out who worked with him yesterday.” He stood. “Why don’t you follow me and I’ll take you to one of the conference rooms? I’ll only be a moment. I can find out who he spoke to.”

“We’ll need to talk to each person on an individual basis,” Alex added. “And we’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell them beforehand the reason we’re here.”

“Yes, of course. Right this way.”

Remy trailed the man and whispered to Alex. “That changed his tune. Wait till we tell him he got a job here using a fake social.”

“They’ll bring in their lawyers for sure,” he replied.

“Why don’t you two go on in and I’ll arrange for the employees to come in individually?” Wingate replied.

“If there’s someone who Edmunds was close to, we’d like to speak with that person first,” Remy said.

“I’ll find out.” He closed the door.

Remy took a seat at the table with Alex. “So the bigwigs don’t know, but I wonder if Edmunds’ friends know.”

“Know what he did?” Alex asked.

“Not exactly, but maybe picked up on recent behavioral changes.”

The door opened and a man who appeared to be in his forties entered with noted trepidation. And since the news wasn’t public yet, Remy’s neck hair stood on end.

“Agents Fontaine and Chasse, this is Bobby Lysander. He works closely with Joel.” Wingate ushered the man inside.

“Mr. Lysander.” Remy offered her hand. “We’d just like to ask you a few questions. It won’t take long.”

“Okay.” The nervous man took a seat across from the agents.

Remy eyed Wingate. “We’ll take it from here, thank you.”

He nodded and stepped out of the room.

“Mr. Lysander, do you know why we’ve asked to speak with you?” Remy asked.

“No, ma’am. Other than it has something to do with Joel. Is that why he’s not here today? He get into some kind of trouble?”

“Do you know him to be a man who’s likely to get into some trouble?” she asked.

“No more than anyone else, I suppose.”

“Why don’t you tell us when you last talked to Joel, then?” Remy continued.

He cast up his gaze in thought. “Well, yesterday he came in. We work the line together and are pretty close to each other.”

“Did he seem different to you yesterday?” Alex asked.

“No, sir. Not particularly. I mean, Joel’s a good guy and all, but he’s kind of quiet. We had lunch in the cafeteria together, like we always do. Just shooting the shit. Nothing important.”

Remy glanced at her phone when a text arrived from Blake but she quickly returned to Lysander. “I assume you were aware that Joel was due to get married in a few weeks.”

“Oh yeah. That was one thing he talked about quite a lot, actually. He was happy about it. That’s how it seemed to me, anyway.”

“Did you know his fiancée?” Alex continued.

“No, sir. Like I said, we were friends, but not close friends. We’d go out after work for a beer sometimes. But we never really hung out at each other’s houses or nothing. Course, I was invited to the wedding, which I thought was nice.” He hesitated a moment and eyed Remy. “Ma’am, can I ask why y’all are here and asking about Joel? Why didn’t he come to work today?”

“We’re having some trouble finding him, Mr. Lysander. In fact, we were kind of hoping you might have some idea as to where he is. Don’t suppose you know if he has a favorite spot? Fishing, or boating, or camping. Is he known for doing things like that?” Remy asked.

“Not that I’m aware of.” He raised his index finger. “There was this one time, though, Joel mentioned he wanted to take his new bride down south to New Orleans. I asked him why and . . .”

Remy noted his hesitation. “What is it, Mr. Lysander?”

“Well, he said he wanted to take her there ’cause it was an easy place to get lost in, or something along those lines.”

“Get lost in?” Alex asked.

“Yes, sir. I asked him what he meant by that and he said, ‘sometimes getting lost is the only way out.’ I thought that was an odd answer.” He looked at Remy. “You ever hear anything like that before?”

“No, sir. I don’t think I have.”

Chapter 4

The agents had returned to the FAU office to put together the facts as they understood them and create a plan of action, so when Hubert approached Remy’s desk, she assumed it would be about the current hunt for Joel Edmunds. “Afternoon. Alex and I just returned from interviews with Joel Edmunds’ coworkers and were about to follow up on some people he’d spoken to recently . . .”

Hubert cleared his throat. “Remy, I need to see you in my office for a moment.”

“Okay.” She stood from her desk and trailed Hubert. Elliot Gainor was already inside the office and appeared to have been waiting for her. “Elliot, nice to see you again.”

“And you, Remy.” He stood next to Hubert’s desk at attention like she was some high-ranking official and this was the military.

Hubert closed his door and sat at his desk. “Take a seat, Remy.”

Her brow knitted as she glanced at the men before sitting down. “Is something wrong, sir?”

Hubert clasped his hands on top of his desk. “Remy, we need to talk about the statement you’re planning to make to the parole board.”

She shot a look at Gainor. “This is probably something we should discuss in private, sir.”

“Remy, Elliot’s here because he’s been working on a case with the Criminal Division that has ties to Kyle DeChamp,” Hubert said.

Her gaze darted between them. “I’m sorry, what?”

Gainor sat down next to her. “My job at the FAU is the same as yours. The exception being this case. Three years ago, I worked in the Criminal Division. At that time, I was assigned a case with the NOPD and FBI. They needed help with a trafficking ring, and it turned out, that ring had a link to DeChamp.”

“But he’s been in prison for the past almost fifteen years,” she replied.

“Right. So last year, and this is the reason you haven’t seen much of me, the Criminal Division said the FBI finally had a reliable lead and were ready to pull the trigger to stop this ring. DeChamp still had his hands in the cookie jar on this case. That’s what I’ve been working on since you started here.”

She reeled at the information. First of all, it made a little more sense now, her last conversation with DeChamp when he claimed to have been stronger on the inside. He was clearly still pulling the strings on the operation she thought was long over. But more importantly, this threw into question her entire reason for having been hired on at the FAU.

“I don’t believe this.” Remy turned to Hubert. “You had to have known about this when you recruited me. Is this why you recruited me? Because I know DeChamp? Because I was one of his victims?”

“No.” Hubert pulled back in his chair. “Look, of course I knew about DeChamp. It was a big case that played out in the public eye. I knew you’d testified against him. I had your file.”

“Oh my God.” Remy stood in protest. “All this time I thought you brought me on because you believed in me. You insisted that my work with the State Police stood out. But I see that’s not at all the case.”

“Remy,” Gainor cut in. “Hubert didn’t know what I was working on, okay? He knew I was helping the CD and the FBI, but not the case.”

“So you’re telling me this is all just some big coincidence?” she continued.

“In a manner of speaking — yes,” Gainor replied. “But like Hubert said, your involvement in that case wasn’t a secret, not to those in law enforcement.”

“Remy, please sit down,” Hubert said. “Let’s talk this through because you’re here for a reason.”

She reluctantly returned to the chair. “Okay. Why am I here?”

“I need your help,” Gainor said. “Your statement at the hearing? We need you to side with him.”

The corner of her lip raised into a smile. “I’m sorry? Side with who?”

“DeChamp,” Hubert added. “We’d like you to recommend his early release.”

“We need him on the outside, Remy,” Gainor added. “It’s the only way we can end this. He’s been controlling things from behind bars. He’s recruited loyal servants and if he’s out, the ones who want his spot will do what it takes to take him out. Permanently.”

“You want to have him released so that someone will kill him? Even if that happened, it sounds like you’re just cutting off the head of the snake. They’ll grow another one,” she replied. “And if he’s out, he’ll come after me. He’ll come after the people I love.” Remy immediately considered DeChamp’s words to her about Max’s family. “You think he’s going to forget that I helped put him behind bars for a good part of his life? And should we talk about the ethics here? Not that I have much of a leg to stand on, but am I understanding all this correctly, sir?” She peered at Hubert.

Gainor shifted in his chair. “I get your thought process here, Remy, I really do. I know we don’t know each other, but from what Hubert’s told me, you’ve already proven yourself time and again just since you arrived. Hell, you saved his life and Ketner’s. So, I’m asking for your help here. DeChamp gets out, he’ll look to exert his authority to a greater extent. This ring, Remy, it extends across the country. Your original case? You put him behind bars, but the horror didn’t stop there.”

She cocked her head. “All right. Say I go along with your scheme. DeChamp will get suspicious if I suddenly root for his release. I wouldn’t underestimate him on that count. He knows how much I hate him. And then what happens? You just let him go along running his operation until one of his underlings tries to take him out? Then what? How do you end this?” she asked.

Gainor eyed Hubert a moment before continuing. “The NOPD, the FBI, and LBI are working together on this case and have been for longer than I care to think about. They know the players and they know who pulls the strings. DeChamp is one of three men operating throughout the country. He runs the operation for the entire eastern region. If he gets out, which is all but assured pending your statement, the plan is to have him lead us to the other two and then . . . Right now, the FBI have some idea, but they don’t know who these guys are. DeChamp will set up a meeting with them most certainly. Once they’re identified, we’ll lay the groundwork.” Gainor squared up to her. “The endgame is to finish each of these three men. Dismantle the entire operation and stop the trafficking of thousands of young people every day. We need your help to make that happen.”

She raised a single brow. “You’re going to have each of them killed?”

“The FBI will dismantle the operation,” Hubert began. “Each of us plays a part in that. Remy, putting these men behind bars does nothing to stop them. We’ve seen that already with DeChamp. And yes, we’d be cutting off the head of the snake, but with that, the body will fall. The plan is already in place.” He pulled up to his desk and studied her. “Now, you’ve done it once before, but this time, DeChamp will be gone. You’ll never have to worry about him again. Or what he might do to the people you love.”

She considered the outlandish request. “And all I have to do is present my statement in support of his release?”

“Yes,” Hubert replied. “That is the extent of your involvement in this.”

She scoffed. “Somehow, I don’t think that’ll be the case.”

* * *

Alex and Remy arrived at the BRPD stationhouse to meet with Blake regarding the phone and bank records for Joel Edmunds. And if he had new details on the previous murder case back in ’05, then all the better.

It appeared Alex had picked up on Remy’s sudden silence. “Are you going to tell me what happened with Hubert and Gainor earlier because you’ve been quiet since we left the office.”

She pulled her gaze away from the passenger window as Alex parked. “Let’s just focus on finding Edmunds first. He’s had almost two days to gain ground.” She opened her car door. “Our window is closing fast.”

On entering the stationhouse, all the uniformed officers that buzzed around brought back a lot of memories for Remy. The State Police weren’t all that different in the way they ran things. There were still rookies and senior cops. Sergeants and lieutenants. It was the same thing only on a smaller scale, and for a moment, she felt at home, and for a moment, it wasn’t Alex standing next to her but Max. That moment, however, quickly passed.

They approached the admin desk and Remy retrieved her badge. “Afternoon. LBI Agents Fontaine and Chasse. Detective Blake is expecting us.”

“You’re welcome to head back. He’s in his office,” the woman replied.

“Thanks.” Along the corridor, each office had a large window and she spotted Blake inside one of them. He waved them in.

“Afternoon.” Blake tucked his hair behind his ears. “You two have any luck?”

They walked inside and took a seat. “We talked to half a dozen of Edmunds’ coworkers. One had been invited to the upcoming wedding, and in fact, said Edmunds considered taking his new bride to New Orleans,” Remy said.

“Is that so?” Blake jotted down something on a nearby notepad. “You want to start looking there?”

“Absolutely, but it seemed he made it clear he wanted to go there to quote-unquote, ‘lose’ his wife,” Remy added.

“What?” Blake’s face masked in confusion.

“That’s what we thought,” Alex cut in. “It’s a good place to start, but we’re hoping you made headway on the phone and bank records. Who’s he been talking to who might help him get out of town?”

Blake retrieved the records from his desk drawer and handed them to Alex. “No calls in the past thirty-six hours, which just about times it right with when he murdered Beth Ann. But before that, he made three phone calls. No text messages. Of course, we all know that doesn’t mean he didn’t message anyone.”

“It just means he probably used an app,” Remy added.

“Exactly. Here’s the interesting thing. These numbers are all related to the upcoming wedding.”

“How so?” Alex asked.

“The guy went through the trouble of calling the florist, the church where they were to be married, and the caterer.”

“Let me guess,” Remy began. “He canceled.”

“Yes, ma’am. Guess he wanted his security deposits back,” Blake replied. “Not that it helps us locate him, but it’s pretty clear now he intended to kill Beth Ann and take off. This was premeditated.”

Remy perused the report. “And these other numbers?”

“Still working on them. And as far as bank records go, he hasn’t withdrawn any cash or used his credit cards. Makes me think he had money stashed away already. I have the guys in Forensic Accounting looking at whether he had a pattern of deposits or withdrawals that might suggest he was prepping for this moment. In the meantime, we still have no sightings of his Ford Fusion.”

“I have no doubt it’s at the bottom of a ravine already,” Remy replied. “Where did this guy hang out? Did he go to bars? We have to figure out his routine and see if anyone else influenced him in his decision to murder his fiancée.”

Blake’s desk phone rang. “Excuse me a moment.” He answered. “Detective Blake. A reporter? Can you hold him off?” He lowered his gaze. “And he specifically mentioned Orlando? Shit. No, I’ll go see him. Thanks. Bye.”

“If the media has this story already, you won’t be able to control the narrative,” Remy said. “There’s a reporter here right now?”

“He mentioned Orlando, meaning he’s well ahead of us,” Blake replied.

“Look, we’re here to help you find Edmunds, but if you want us to step in and handle . . .” Alex added.

Blake raised his hand. “I got this. The files from the Orlando case will be arriving any minute. I’ll forward them on to you.” He stood from his chair. “You’ll show yourselves out?”

“Sure. Thank you, Detective.” Remy followed him to the door, stopping at the doorway a moment. “We know Edmunds’ real name is Eaton. It’s important to know when that transition happened. When did the name Joel Edmunds first crop up?”

“Why does that matter?” Alex asked.

“Because I’m thinking maybe he didn’t go from Jack to Joel. Maybe there were other names in between.” She eyed him. “And if we can learn whether that’s true, we might be able to establish a pattern of movement. Work history. Anything that could point to where he would go now.”

“You think he’s killed more than twice?” Alex asked.

Remy shrugged. “I’m saying it’s possible.”

* * *

Wendy walked into her darkened apartment. “Jesus, Joel, you want to turn on some lights or something?” She flipped the switch at the entrance and the ceiling fan light flickered on. Joel sat on the sofa, legs sprawled, hair jet black. He returned a side eye as she entered holding bags of food.

“Why are you sitting here in the dark?”

“What took you so long?” he asked.

“I ran some errands. Is that a problem? I brought food.” She continued inside and set down the bags on the small four-chair dining set.

Joel pushed off the sofa and approached her from behind. He towered over her tiny frame. “You leave when I say and you come back when I say, you understand that, Wendy?”

She peered at him over her shoulder. “Yeah, okay. I didn’t mean to upset you. You should eat while the food is hot.” Her tone lowered to a whisper as she slipped away from him and into the kitchen. “I’ll get you something to drink. You want water or pop?”

“Water.” He reached into the bag and retrieved a wrapped burger. “And don’t even think about going to the cops, you got that? You helped me get rid of my car. Don’t you forget that.”

“You said you needed the insurance money. And I would never do anything to hurt you, Joel. You know that. Now, come on. Don’t be mad. We’ll have a nice dinner now, okay?” Her voice faltered a moment, but she returned a smile.

“Fine. We’ll forget about this, but don’t let it happen again, Wendy, okay? I left Beth Ann for you. You better show some gratitude.”

* * *

The young reporter from the Orlando Times sat down in Blake’s office and opened his carrier bag. “I appreciate you meeting with me, Detective.” He retrieved his notebook. “I’d like to talk to you about Jack Eaton, who I believe you know as Joel Edmunds.”

Blake raised his chin. “You know something about him?”

“I know he murdered his wife and daughter in 2005. Hasn’t been seen since.”

“What was your name again?” Blake asked.

With an eager expression, he gazed up at the detective. “Eric Calderon. I’ve been with the Times for two years as an investigative reporter.”

“How did you hear about my investigation, Mr. Calderon?”

“I’ve been interested in Jack Eaton for a while now. I follow up with the Orlando PD every now and again about the cold case. Nothing’s ever popped up — until now.”

“That cold case happened while you were still in diapers, by the look of you. What got you interested in it?”

Calderon flashed a bright smile. “I’m a little older than you think, but yeah, I guess you could say I became interested in it when I learned that there was another murder in 2009 that they suspected tied back to Eaton. Happened in Tallahassee.”

“Suspected?” Blake asked.

“No DNA was left behind, but the description matched. He was never found. I’m thinking he might’ve come here after that.”

Blake considered the reporter’s words. “What else do you know about the Orlando case?”

“Not much. The original investigator retired long ago. The cold case detective hasn’t shown much interest in pursuing it. But I think your situation might change his mind.”

“I’ve been in contact with Orlando PD already. They’re sending over the case files today,” Blake replied. “But I get a sense, Mr. Calderon, that this investigation has a deeper meaning for you. It’d be best if you were up front with me about your intentions.”

Calderon returned a serious gaze. “All right. My mother was the woman killed back in 2009. I think Jack Eaton did it.”

“I see. How would your mother have known him, assuming we’re talking about the same man?”

“She dated him for a few months. Next thing you know, she turns up dead in a dumpster behind a laundromat.”

Blake cast down his gaze. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He studied him again. “Can you prove any connection to Jack Eaton at all?”

“No. He was going by a different name. Jim Edgar.”

“J.E.,” Blake replied.

“Yep. I never personally saw pictures of him. Never met him. My mom lived in Tallahassee. I live in Orlando and mostly lived with my dad, so we didn’t see each other as much as I would’ve liked.”

“And what makes you think it was the same guy?” Blake pressed on.

“When you get the case files, you’ll see the autopsy for his wife and child. They were both bludgeoned to death with heavy objects. Suspected ashtrays. My mom was killed with a tire iron. Her skull smashed to pieces.”

Blake had to admit, Calderon’s notion was compelling. “What about his daughter? She was the only juvenile victim, by the sounds of it.”

“Can’t speak to that, but my guess is, his family were his first victims. Maybe he didn’t like the idea of killing another kid.”

Blake nodded. “You know what? You might be onto something here. I’ll request the case files for your mother’s investigation and take a look. I’ll send these details on to the LBI. They’re helping us track him down. If there is a pattern here, we’ll find it.”

Calderon sighed with relief. “Thank you. I’ve waited a long time to hear that.”

“I can’t promise anything. But I will ask that you keep this out of the papers for as long as possible, you understand? You have buddies here in the press? Don’t bring them in. You want to run a story with the Orlando Times, don’t. What we want is for Jack Eaton to believe he’s gotten away with murder again. It’s the only way we’ll find him.”

Chapter 5

The first sign of autumn arrived in the form of a cool dry evening breeze and the relentless summer loosened its stranglehold on the city. Remy stepped out of her white Toyota 4Runner and Alex joined her as they rode the elevator to the FAU offices. “You suppose anyone’s still here?”

Alex glanced at the time on his phone. “Depends. I’ll bet Hubert is.” He regarded her a moment. “You feel like talking yet about what happened with him earlier today?”

“Nothing happened.” The doors parted and Remy stepped into the bullpen.

Alex touched her shoulder. “Hey, it’s me. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know.” She gazed out into the open space. “Most everyone’s gone. I guess it’s getting late. I don’t want to keep you from Maggie and the kids. How about we split up the review of the files and take them home? I need to see Hubert before I go.”

Alex peered down. “Okay. I’ll grab my stuff and take a look tonight. I’ll see you in the morning, huh?”

“Yeah, sure. Good night, Alex.” She started back to her desk.

“Night, Remy.”

It felt like a punch in the gut. Like Hubert only hired her because of her involvement with Kyle DeChamp. Hubert insisted he hadn’t known what Gainor worked on, but how could he not? And now her future was up in the air. They wanted her to help free DeChamp. After all he’d done to her, she was supposed to help him? And would he actually buy it? She scoffed.

“Remy?” Gainor appeared from around the corner and approached her desk. “You’re back. Good. I was hoping you might have a minute to talk.” He sat across from her. “I can see by the look on your face that you’re not completely onboard with this.”

She raised her gaze to meet his. “If you knew what he did to me, you wouldn’t question my hesitancy.”

“I know enough to know his organization needs to be put to an end — for good this time.”

“I thought that was what I did the first time.” She closed her eyes a moment. “It took me years to get past it, and frankly, I’m not sure I am completely over what happened. I mean, look at where I work. Look at what I’ve chosen to do with my life. This isn’t someone who’s over their past. And what about Hubert? I feel like the only reason I’m here is because he knew this was coming.”

“That’s not true,” Gainor cut in. “I promise you, what he said before, he wasn’t lying. He didn’t know what I was working on. And when it started, it had nothing to do with Kyle DeChamp. But as we’ve gotten deeper into this thing, his name got tossed around. It couldn’t be ignored. So please don’t think Hubert had any reason to hire you other than for your skills. Look, we don’t know each other, but I do know Alex, and he speaks very highly of you and your work.” Gainor leaned toward her. “Remy, I need you on this one. If you go into that hearing and make a statement to suggest DeChamp stays behind bars, it’ll be incredibly difficult to get him out. The board will listen to what you have to say, and I need you to lie your ass off.”

“Will the LBI protect my family when he’s out? He knows my sister. She was at the trial. My parents are already gone and she’s all I have left in this world. I can’t risk her safety or her son’s.”

“You know Hubert would never let anything happen to you or your family, or anyone on this team. I promise you, Remy, once he’s out, he’ll run roughshod over everyone in the organization to keep his power. He’ll have no choice but to do that. And when he does, we’ll burn it all to the ground. We have people on the inside already. They’re all waiting for DeChamp’s release. He won’t come for you.”

Remy stood from her desk and grabbed her carrier bag. “I should go. I have a lot of case files to review tonight.” As she headed toward the elevator, she stopped and turned back to Gainor. “If you don’t think Kyle DeChamp will come after everyone I love, then you’ve already lost.”

* * *

Remy arrived home and tossed her bag onto the chair next to the sofa. She slipped off her shoes and padded to the kitchen to open the fridge. The light shone on her face as she peeked inside. “I need to go shopping.” Two bottles of beer, a lime, a half-wedge of brie, and wilted romaine lettuce. It would have been comical were it not so sad a sight. She grabbed a beer and returned to the sofa. Outside her sliding glass door, the moon shone brightly against the black skies. Its light cast down and illuminated the small balcony where she kept two resin chairs and a table.

“You have no idea what you’re asking of me.” Remy took a sip of her beer as she gazed out. Kyle DeChamp had threatened to harm Max’s family if she spoke out against him at the hearing. Now, if she did, Gainor’s case would crumble, or so he claimed. But was this really going to work? Would they truly end DeChamp’s stranglehold over the trafficking ring that had ensnared her when she was just seventeen?

She reached for her carrier bag and retrieved the Orlando case files. Her mind wasn’t on the case, but it needed to be. A man who had murdered three people was on the run and had been for many years. So how would they find him? Who was he with? Because one thing was certain, he wasn’t alone. That wasn’t how he operated from what she’d learned so far. And her first thought? Another woman. The question remained, who? A friend of his now dead fiancée’s? Maybe. Someone he met one night in a bar? Possibly.

Remy’s phone buzzed with an incoming call. She noticed the caller ID and picked it up. “Detective Blake, hello.”

“Agent Fontaine, listen I just got a call. Edmunds’ car was found.”

She pulled up to the edge of the sofa. “Where?”

“A canal in the north of town. I know it’s getting late, but you feel like meeting me up there to take a look? BRPD is getting ready to pull it out of the water. They’ve secured the area already.”

“Yeah, definitely. You want to send me the location? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“See you soon.”

He ended the call, and a moment later, a text arrived on Remy’s phone with the location.

She was out the door within five minutes and headed to the spot where they were about to dredge up Edmunds’ Ford Fusion. She stepped out of her SUV and reached the top of the canal banks. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

Blake turned to her. “Anytime. Figured you might be interested to see if anything’s inside the vehicle. I’m not holding out much hope, but there’s a chance.”

Remy surveyed the industrial-looking area. “What are the odds these warehouses have cameras?”

“It’s possible there could be some exterior surveillance. Whether they would be positioned to capture Joel Edmunds driving here is another story,” Blake replied.

“I don’t think he did this alone. Someone must’ve given him a ride out of here.” She continued to survey the grounds. “Otherwise, he would’ve left on foot and there isn’t much around here.”

“Detective?” A uniformed officer approached. “My team’s ready to hoist the vehicle.”

“Then let’s do it. It’s already past my bedtime.” Blake followed the officer to the dive team and the crane that was ready to pull up the car.

Remy caught up to them and stood at the edge of the canal. “How did he even get this car here? There are bollards lining the sidewalk.”

“Not over here.” Blake pointed to his left. “That’s an access point for maintenance vehicles. He must’ve come from there. Thing is, why here?”

“Such an obvious location,” Remy added. “Someone was bound to see this thing.”

“You think he wanted us to find it?” Blake asked.

“The guy’s been on the run for seventeen years. He’s not stupid.” Remy knitted her brow as she peered out over the water. “He would’ve known we’d be searching for his car. Dumping it is the most logical solution. But this does seem overly dramatic when he could’ve simply left it in a parking lot or on the side of the road. No. I think this is a statement. He wants us to know that he’s one step ahead of us. That he believes he has all the time in the world.” She glanced at the officer who called out to his team. “We’re about to find out if he left us a reason for his decision.”

* * *

Joel glanced at the time on his phone and switched over the television to the eleven o’clock news. Wendy was on the sofa next to him, though she was half-asleep. With the volume low, he waited to see whether his face would appear on the screen. More importantly, whether they’d connected the dots to his past. It would determine if he would stay here another day or two or if he’d be out the door first thing in the morning.

The news anchor wore a blue suit and blue-and-white striped tie and he smiled broadly at the camera. “Good evening. Our top story tonight involves the discovery of a woman in the backyard of her home. According to Baton Rouge PD, she died from blunt force trauma to the head, and the police, alongside the Louisiana Bureau of Investigation are heading up the search for her killer. Authorities ask if you know this man . . .”

There it was. Joel Edmunds’ face with his light brown hair and scruffy beard. They’d used his work ID photo. He returned a side eye to Wendy, but she was out cold. So, they knew who he was but no mention of Orlando. All he needed was the FBI to get involved too. That would make it damn near impossible to leave the state. It would already be tough enough, but he knew Wendy could get him out. No one knew who she was or that he was with her. It was his only shot and it seemed, with this news story, the time had come to make his move. The cops were coming and it wouldn’t take them long to figure out how he came to meet Wendy.

When the story was over, he tapped her shoulder. “Hey, babe? Why don’t we hit the sack? You’ve been asleep for a while. I don’t want you to get a neck ache.”

She roused from her sleep and sat up on the couch. “I hadn’t realized. I only closed my eyes for a minute. But yeah, let’s go to bed.”

The two shuffled into the bedroom and Wendy crawled under the covers. Joel turned off the side table lamp and leaned toward her. “Sleep tight.” He kissed her cheek.

“Goodnight, babe.” Wendy turned on her side and curled up her tiny frame.

* * *

The car dangled from the crane above the canal, dripping water as it swung over toward land. Remy still pondered the reason Joel Edmunds made such a production of finding his car. And as it approached midnight, she wanted to reach out to Alex to get his thoughts. Maggie would be irritated if Remy woke him up, but she knew the deal. Nevertheless, Remy didn’t want to be on the wrong side of Mrs. Chasse. “Why?”

“What’s that?” Blake turned to her.

“I’m just trying to figure out why Edmunds dumped his car here. It makes no sense to me. It’s almost as if he wanted to slow us down. Keep us from . . .”

“What?”

She shot him a look. “Keep us from following more leads. Like figuring out who helped him with all this.” Remy set her hands to her hips. “A man like Edmunds knows how to game the system. He knows how to keep his head down. This was intentional. A distraction.”

“Okay, say you’re right,” Blake began. “What do you want to do about it? We’re here now. We might find something useful inside the vehicle.”

Remy’s phone buzzed in her pocket. “Hang on. I have to take this.” She stepped away and answered. “Alex, what are you doing up?”

“I’ve been reviewing the files. Isn’t that what you’re doing?” he asked.

“I started to and then I got a call from Detective Blake. They found Edmunds’ car and they’re pulling it out of the canal now. I’m with him in an industrial park on the east side of town. I was going to call you, but I thought Maggie would be pissed.”

“Doesn’t matter now. Listen, I had a chance to examine the Orlando case. Remy, I think this guy found another woman to help him out. We can home in on his type.”

“His type?” she asked.

“Middle-aged. Blonde. Skinny. That’s who he’ll go after for help.”

Remy considered the idea. “Okay, so where did he find this new woman? Who is she?”

“You remember when we talked to his coworker, Lysander?” Alex began. “He mentioned a bar that they went to on occasion. I say we pay a visit to that bar and look for surveillance video. See if we can find Edmunds and if he was seen with anyone.”

“That’s a good idea. We’ll do that first thing. And listen, I’ll wrap up here and let you know if anything turns up. Thing is, I don’t believe it will. I’m trying to figure out why he would dump his car here . . .”

“At a location where it would require time and effort to fish out,” Alex cut in. “Yeah, I hear you. It’s a distraction.”

“That’s exactly what I thought.” Remy watched as the car was set down on the ground again. “It’s out of the water now, so Blake and I will have a look. His CSI is here too if we do find evidence. If you don’t hear from me, I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Alex.”

“See you tomorrow, Remy.”

She ended the call and walked toward Blake who had made his way to the car.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“It was Chasse. He came up with an interesting theory. He thinks Edmunds has a type.”

“Okay,” Blake replied.

“First thing in the morning, we’re going to check out a bar one of his coworkers mentioned. We think we’ll find Edmunds on video there and we’re hoping he won’t be alone.”

Blake raised a brow. “That’s worth digging into for sure.”

“Detective?” an officer called out. “We’re ready when you are.”

“Let’s go take a look.” Blake started on.

Remy followed him to the vehicle that still dripped water from the floorboards and engine. Lights were set up while the CSI team moved in. “He took the plates.”

“Must’ve hoped it would take us longer to connect the car to him,” Blake replied. “Maybe he’s not as smart as we’re giving him credit for.”

“Just another delay tactic.” Remy watched as one of the officers opened the driver’s side door. Water tipped out. “Won’t get any fingerprints in the event he had someone else in this car with him.”

“Not a chance.” Blake walked around to the passenger side and called out to one of his officers. “Can you open this door? I’d like to see what’s in the glovebox.”

“Sure thing, Detective.” The officer opened the door and with gloved hands dropped down the glovebox and opened the center console.

“You mind if I have a quick peek?” Blake asked.

“Be my guest. Just don’t remove anything. Leave that to me.”

“You got it. Hey, Fontaine, come around to this side.” Blake waited a moment for her to arrive. “Figured if we’re going to find anything, might be in here. We’ll check the trunk next.”

Remy nodded and waited for Blake to examine the interior.

With the flashlight of his phone, he shone it inside the glovebox. “Bunch of wet papers. A car manual. Looks like insurance cards and vehicle reg.”

“What about the console?” Remy asked.

Blake turned the light to the console and peered inside. “What the?”

Remy leaned closer. “You see something?”

Blake glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, uh, there’s a key inside this console. One of you guys want to retrieve it for me?” He moved away from the car and looked at Remy. “Damn thing’s taped under the coin collector. I wouldn’t have seen it if the water hadn’t dislodged it from its slot.”

Remy nodded. “Okay, a key. So now all we have to do is figure out what it unlocks.”

* * *

The only sound inside Wendy’s bedroom was a slight hum of the ceiling fan. Joel lay next to her, turned on his side. In the darkened room, at almost midnight, her heart raced harder than it ever had before. She’d seen the news and the shock of hearing Joel was suspected of murdering his fiancée scared her to death. He’d seemed different earlier today too. Angry, stressed out.

Wendy had agreed to help him get rid of the car, but that was it. She hadn’t known anything about Joel’s fiancée except that he wanted to leave her. No big deal, right? They weren’t even married. But it was more than that and Wendy knew it now. But how to get away from him? Even lying here in this bed next to him made her skin crawl. And would he try to stop her?

She carefully peeled off the light covers that lay over her and pushed up from her pillow. The bed’s springs creaked, and she stopped cold, cringing, eyes squinted in the dark. He hadn’t moved. Wendy pulled in a breath and stood from the bed. In bare feet, she tiptoed out of the room and into the kitchen where her phone had been plugged in to charge. She picked it up and the screen illuminated. “Shit.” Wendy whipped back to make sure the bedroom door was still closed. It was time to leave. Don’t bother making any calls. Just grab the keys and get the hell away from this psycho.

Her keys were inside her handbag that hung on a hook near the door. A pair of flip flops lay against the wall between the kitchen and living room and she slipped them on before walking to the front door.

“Where are you going?” the voice behind her called out.

Wendy’s hand was on the deadbolt, ready to pull it back when Joel appeared.

“Wendy, I asked where you’re going,” he continued.

She stood frozen with her hand still on the doorknob. “I just needed some fresh air. The bedroom was too warm. Damn air conditioning probably needs to be serviced again.” She turned back wearing a smile. “I didn’t mean to wake you, hon.”

Joel returned a deadpan stare. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

“Saw what?” she asked, brows furrowed.

“The news.” He stepped toward her. “I can explain.”

“Oh, yeah.” She swatted away the notion as fear gripped her. “No, I missed the news. I was asleep on the couch, remember?”

“No, you saw it.” He stood just inches in front of her now and pressed his hand against the door. “You know what I did. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave.”

“Joel, no . . .”

He clenched her throat with his hand and pressed her against the door. “I didn’t want it to go this way, Wendy. I liked you.” He tightened his grip as she tried to pry away his fingers.

“No, please Joel.” Her face reddened from the pressure on her throat. “I won’t tell . . .” Wendy’s voice softened to a whisper as she began to lose her breath.

“I know you won’t. And I’m going to make sure of it right now.”

Chapter 6

The knock on Remy’s front door came at six a.m. as the sun emerged just above the horizon. Remy stepped out of her bathroom, smoothing down her ash blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her black dress pants and blush-colored silk shirt rested perfectly against her slender frame, and on opening the door, she smiled at the man who stood before her.

Alex held out a paper cup. “Figured you might want some coffee since you had a late night.”

Remy eagerly accepted one of the cups. “Thanks. I need this more than you know. Come in. I just have to get my bag.”

Alex strolled inside. “It’s not often I get an invite here. Almost forgot what the place looked like.”

“No. That’s not true, is it?” Remy slung her bag over her shoulder.

“I think it is.” He surveyed the area. “It’s a nice place. Could use a paint job.”

“Thanks. I’ll be sure and mention that to the landlord. I was thinking about getting a house soon, though. Now that I’m official and all that.” She started toward the door again. “Well, come on.”

“Right behind you.” Alex stepped onto the catwalk outside her apartment door and headed down the steps. “I put a call into the owner of the bar already. He wasn’t too thrilled to be awakened at five a.m., but he’s agreed to let us in and take a look at their security footage.”

“So they have some?” Remy asked.

“Yep. Our first lucky break.” Alex pressed the remote to unlock his car. “It’s only about half an hour away, might take longer with rush hour.” He stepped inside and pressed the ignition. “What about this key, huh? What’s happening with that?”

Remy buckled her seatbelt. “Blake’s running on it this morning. I don’t know what to make of it. Hell, it could be anything, you know? And why leave it in your car, taped, no less?”

“To hide it, I suppose.” Alex turned onto the road ahead.

“I guess. Right now, we can’t afford to dismiss any clues. It’ll keep Blake busy for sure. And since we’ve had zero sightings of Edmunds, I’m feeling desperate.”

“This could be our best shot at learning whether he was with anyone,” Alex replied.

Remy felt that he wanted to ask about what happened with Hubert again but held his tongue. She trusted Alex, probably more than any man right now, and that included Cole Grayson. But she’d overstepped before when she went straight to the prison warden to confront him about DeChamp’s ability to contact her. It could’ve cost her everything, but Hubert had stepped in. In hindsight, and despite Gainor’s insistence Hubert knew nothing of his investigation, Remy couldn’t help but think it was all part of the plan. All Alex knew was that she planned on making a statement to reject his release. What was going to happen when he got out? What would Alex think then if he knew what she’d done to ensure the result?

Alex glanced at her. “You got awful quiet. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about the case. Knowing this guy has a type is going to open some doors.”

“Yeah, we might spot him with someone at the bar. And if we do, then we’ll have to hope she’s a regular or someone knows her.” He nodded at the building ahead. “I think this is it up here.” He drove into the parking lot.

Remy stepped out into the tepid morning air. While her thoughts were consumed with the looming parole hearing, she knew they needed this lead. It had been more than forty-eight hours and no sign of Joel Edmunds.

Alex held open the door for Remy and she stepped into the bar. The early morning light diffused through small windowpanes and ahead was a large semi-circular bar with low stools surrounding it. Behind the bar was a vast display of every liquor imaginable. Not bad for a relative hole-in-the-wall.

Only one other person was inside, and Remy assumed it was the owner. A tall man, over six feet, medium build, and more than a few lines on his face headed their way. She stretched out her hand. “Good morning. You must be the owner. I’m LBI Agent Fontaine. This is my partner Agent Chasse.”

“Good to meet you both. Dan Moody. Yes, this is my place. Come on back to my office and we’ll discuss what it is you’re looking for.” He started ahead. “I know Joel fairly well. Came in here quite a lot, usually alone.”

“You talk to him much?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t say ‘much,’ but we’d shoot the shit on occasion. He was a decent guy, I thought. Sure as hell would’ve never thought he’d kill somebody, least of all his fiancée.”

“Did you know her too?” Alex asked. “Beth Ann Surette?”

“Nah, she never came in. Saw some pictures of her Joel showed from his phone, but like I said, man came in here alone mostly.” He reached his office and walked inside.

Remy followed him. “Did he leave alone?”

A crooked smile played on Moody’s lips. “Sometimes.” He gestured to the chairs. “Have a seat.”

Alex hiked up his suit pants and sat down. “We’re interested in learning who was with Edmunds in the past week or so. Longer, if you think you might know of someone.”

Moody turned to his computer. “Not off the top of my head. Then again, it wasn’t like we were buddy-buddy, and I don’t work every day. What is it you want me to pull up on the surveillance?”

“Let’s start with three days ago and work backward,” Remy said. “Unless you can remember when he was here last.”

“I think I saw him last Wednesday. Let me check.” He slipped on reading glasses and keyed in commands on his computer. “Here’s the footage from that evening. If he comes, it’s usually after work. Stays for an hour or so then goes home. Not always, but that was generally his MO. Of course, he’d show up and stay much later on occasion.”

“We’ll start with Wednesday,” Alex replied.

Remy’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she glanced at the caller ID. “Excuse me for a moment. I need to take this.” She stepped out of the office and answered. “Detective Blake. Good morning. My partner and I are at the bar looking into who might’ve been seen with Edmunds.”

“We already know,” he interrupted.

“Sorry?”

“A call came in to 911 operators this morning. Apparently, a woman was supposed to pick up Beth for work because she needed a ride. The woman got there, knocked on the front door and got no answer. Long story short, she tried calling the woman multiple times and finally went to the manager’s office. The manager unlocked the door, fearing for the woman’s safety.”

“Oh, God.” Remy closed her eyes.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think God had a hand in this. The woman’s name was Wendy Collins.”

“How do you know this involved Edmunds?” she asked.

“Because the friend knew about him. This Wendy Collins told her she’d met him about a month or two ago, got real friendly, but said he came with baggage . . .”

“Like a fiancée,” Remy added.

“Sounds like it.” He sighed. “So her car’s gone. CSI is heading this way. I have no doubt we’ll find Edmunds’ prints all over this place and on the victim. I’ll update the BOLO now. But you and your partner are wasting your time there. He’s gone and he’s alone.”

“Okay. We’ll pull the plug on this and head your way. See if we can find any clues as to where he might go now.” She ended the call and returned to the office. “Mr. Moody, thank you for your time, but we’ve just received the information we were looking for.”

Alex turned to her. “What’s going on?”

“We need to head out to an apartment building. They found a woman.”

“Wendy Collins?” Moody turned his monitor toward her. “This woman here?”

Remy peered at the screen. “Do you know that woman to be Wendy?”

“I do.”

She lowered her gaze. “Then I’m sorry to tell you, she’s been murdered.”

* * *

They arrived at the apartment building where Wendy Collins had been found dead. But before they reached the steps to the second-floor units, Blake hurried down to intercept them.

“Agent Fontaine? Agent Chasse?” He leaped off the bottom step and approached them at the edge of the parking lot. “Her car’s been spotted heading toward Shreveport. 2013 Toyota Camry. We could use the help of the State Police to get a jump on this.”

“On it.” Remy grabbed her phone and made the call to a former colleague. “Zach. It’s Remy.”

“Remy Fontaine? I haven’t heard from you since you shot me down, what, almost a year ago?”

“Yeah, about that . . .” she said, turning sheepish.

“Don’t sweat it. I’m giving you shit, Remy. It’s good to hear from you. What’s going on? Everything okay?”

“No, not really.” She surveyed the parking lot. “Listen, I need a favor — again.”

“Yeah, of course. Anything. What is it?”

“Baton Rouge PD issued a BOLO on a 2013 Toyota Camry owned by Wendy Collins. She was killed by a man we believe took her car. He murdered another woman two days ago . . .”

“Jesus,” he replied.

“BRPD and LBI are working the case and we could really use your help.”

“If the BOLO’s out, we’ll be following it, so I don’t know what else we can do for you, Remy,” Zach replied.

“The car was spotted heading toward Shreveport. Can you search the database for a 2013 Toyota Camry?”

“You got a license plate for me?” he asked.

She turned to Blake, who stood a few feet away. “License plate?”

He called out the number.

“Thanks.” Remy returned to the call. “M672J91. This guy just murdered a second woman in as many days. We have to find him. Anything you can do to help us track him down would be appreciated.”

“You know I’d do anything to help you, Remy. Let me see what I can find out, and I’ll make sure the BOLO is top priority too. Talk soon.” Zack ended the call.

Remy returned to the apartment that Detective Blake and Alex had entered. “State Police will pull whatever they can from the database. In the meantime, Alex, we need to head to Shreveport. Edmunds has already murdered two women. He’ll be looking for help from another woman and she won’t be safe.”

“Go. Keep me posted. I’ll stay here and work the scene,” Blake replied.

“Let’s go,” Alex said. “Haven’t been to my old stomping grounds in too long anyway.”

Remy had almost forgotten about Alex’s humble beginnings as a detective in Shreveport. As they returned to his car, she stepped inside and waited for him. “You still have friends there we can lean on?”

Alex nodded. “I think so. We have a long drive ahead of us. I’ll make some calls.”

* * *

The nearly four-hour drive meant it was mid-afternoon before they arrived at the Shreveport PD which Alex had called home for several years. And when they walked into the stationhouse, he was a man transformed.

“I’m looking for Captain Decker. He around? LBI Agent Alex Chasse.” He displayed his badge. “This is Agent Remy Fontaine. We’re here about a fugitive.”

“I’ll let him know you’re here.” The officer picked up the phone. “Hey, Captain, a couple of LBI agents are here to see you.” He listened for a moment. “Yeah, how’d you know? Okay, I’ll tell him.” He ended the call and looked at Alex. “Captain says you can go on back and that you know the way.”

“I do. Thanks very much.” Alex started ahead.

Remy noticed the change in his demeanor as she walked alongside him. “Well, look at you.”

He glanced back. “What do you mean?”

“You look like you own the place.” She smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re the senior agent on our team and much respect, but here? I’m not sure I’ve seen this side of you.”

Alex raised the corner of his mouth into a smile. “I guess it feels good to be back. I’ve known these guys a long time. Decker and I went through the academy together. Maggie and I had just gotten married. We hung out with him and his wife. Good friends. She died a few years back, though.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Remy replied.

“Yeah, me too.” Alex arrived at the open door of Captain Decker’s office and knocked. “Captain?”

A wide smile appeared on the man’s face. Remy lost her breath for a moment, not expecting this man to be as handsome as he was. Mid-to-late-thirties, well-built with broad shoulders and a slim waist. Square jaw, smooth face. But it was his eyes that forced the unexpected reaction. A blue like she’d never seen before. Like a deep-water lake on a clear and sunny day.

“Remy?” Alex had already stepped in while she remained in the doorway. “Come in. I want to introduce you to my buddy.”

She continued inside.

“Jason, this is my partner, Agent Remy Fontaine. Came to us from the State Police. Remy, this is Captain Decker.”

“No need for all that ‘captain’ bullshit. Call me Decker.” He offered his hand. “Nice to meet you, Agent Fontaine.”

“Remy’s fine. Nice to meet you too, Decker.”

“Okay, so, you know a little about why we’re here. We could use your help,” Alex replied.

“Let’s sit down and figure this shit out, then, yeah?” Decker returned to his chair.

Remy retrieved a photo. “This is the man we’re after. Goes by the name Joel Edmunds, but his real name is Jack Eaton. He’s wanted for the murder of his wife and daughter in Orlando back in 2005. And now, his fiancée, Beth Ann Surette, and just this morning, a woman by the name of Wendy Collins.”

“Sounds like he’s getting around. And y’all think he’s here in my city now?” Decker asked.

“The stolen vehicle he’s driving was spotted near town,” Alex began. “Remy’s working with some friends at the State Police with their cameras to see if we can nail him down. Baton Rouge PD issued a revised BOLO based on the vehicle he’s now driving.”

Decker crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Looks like you got a handle on things. Where do my people come in?”

“He’ll be looking for help,” Remy interjected. “Nothing in his background suggests he knows anyone here, but I doubt he threw a dart on a map. He’s here for a reason.”

“A fair assumption,” Decker replied. “I can have Patrol pay extra attention for the vehicle or a man matching his description. The BOLO has already alerted us, but we get so damn many every day I’ll make sure it doesn’t get lost in the shuffle. If we’ve got a killer on our hands, we’ll do what we can to find him.”

“We don’t believe he has much in the way of cash,” Alex said. “The detective in Baton Rouge running the investigation found a key, turns out it was to a safe. A bunch of fake IDs were inside, so I’m sure he’ll go by another name to anyone he meets. He won’t risk using his bank or credit cards. So, he’ll be on the hunt for a woman he can con into helping him.”

“Blonde. Middle-aged. Petite,” Remy cut in. “That’s his type.”

“That describes a hell of a lot of women, Remy,” Decker said.

“It does. But we know he met the last one in a dive bar. He’ll try to find another place, quiet, down-market, cheap.”

“Gotcha. I’m familiar with a few of those places, but if you’re wanting to nose around a little, see if your theory pans out, I’d suggest you start looking near the airport. Cheap hotels. Lots of dive bars. In fact, it wouldn’t hurt to get his picture out to all those spots. Better than sitting on your thumbs till he’s picked up on the BOLO.”

“The most recent murder made the local news last night,” Alex added. “Not sure if it reached y’all up here.”

“I don’t think so, but if he’s here, I’ll bet the media will find out and start digging around for information here at the station. I’ll do what I can to tamp it down, but you know the drill.”

“We do, and thanks.” Remy returned the photo to her carrier bag. “We should probably start making the rounds if we want to attempt to find him. If he takes another victim, I have no doubt the US Marshals and probably the FBI will elbow their way in. That happens, and . . .”

“You’ll lose him,” Decker replied.

“Yes, sir.” She got to her feet and extended her hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Decker. It’s nice to get a feel for where Alex started.”

He returned the greeting and fixed his stunning blue eyes on her. “He was a hell of a detective. I’d say you’re lucky to work with him, but I think it might be the other way around.” He glanced at Alex. “No offense.”

“Hey, none taken.” He stood up. “Remy’s good at her job and I am lucky to have her.”

“All right. Let’s get out of here before my head gets too big to fit through the door.” She felt heat rise in her cheeks and cleared her throat. “I’ll give you two a chance to catch up.” She looked at Alex. “Meet you out front.”

Chapter 7

The airport and its vicinity seemed to be their best, and currently only shot at picking up Wendy Collins’s vehicle. The BOLO that had been issued remained a priority, but Remy and Alex had to be the boots on the ground if they wanted to find this killer.

Remy turned to Alex as he sat behind the wheel. “Must feel strange being back here, huh?”

He returned a crooked smile. “Yeah, it does. I met Maggie here. We had an apartment near the center of town. She worked in a law office, and of course, I had just finished the academy.”

“Why did you leave?”

“Because the LBI had a spot and I wanted it. Moving to Baton Rouge was the only way to get it.”

“And Maggie? She had to leave her job, her life. That must’ve been hard on her,” Remy continued.

“It was. I’m grateful to have a wife like her. She gave up her career for me. I know, once the kids are older, she’d like to go back to work. I’ll do whatever I can to make that happen for her.”

Remy grinned. “It’s nice to see you two have such a good marriage. Funny thing, I’ve been around a lot of people who are in good marriages. My parents had one. My sister. You’d think I wouldn’t be so gun-shy about it, you know?”

He turned to her. “I think it has more to do with the job than your own personal feelings about marriage. And I have no doubt past events messed with your head too.”

“Maybe so.”

“Speaking of—” he began.

“Let’s check out these hotels here,” she cut in. “See if we can spot the car.” He was about to ask the question she wasn’t ready to discuss. In due time, Remy would talk to him about the hearing, but now wasn’t that time.

“Okay, sure.” Alex tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “There has to be a better way to track down this guy. Who does he know? Who would he go to for help?”

“That’s the thing. Based on his file, he has no family. This guy is on his own, which should help us. Of course, like I said before, he picked Shreveport for a reason. A close friend, maybe? He might try to dump the Toyota like he did his Ford, but he needs wheels.”

Alex pulled to a stop in the hotel parking lot. “We’re here now, so tell me what you’d like to do.”

Remy’s phone buzzed and she noted the caller ID. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Where are you?” Grayson asked.

“In the parking lot of a hotel in Shreveport with Alex,” she replied.

“Sounds interesting.”

“Not as much as you might think, but fingers crossed. What’s up?” Remy asked.

“Thought you might be interested to know Joel Edmunds, aka Jack Eaton, has a mother, an adoptive mother,” Grayson replied.

“Say again? Are you sure about this?” She turned to Alex with a perplexed expression. “We saw nothing about any family in his file.”

“I know. They got it wrong. A friend of a friend at the Marshal’s office in Orlando dug into the case a little bit. Wasn’t too hard to find his name in the state’s database. Figured you could use a hand in tracking him down. Hope I’m not stepping on toes.”

“No, not at all. Any help we can get. So he found a family member?” Remy pressed on.

“He did. A woman by the name of Ada Eaton. And get this, she lives in New Orleans now.”

“New Orleans? Okay, then why did he come here?” Remy asked.

“Good question. Look, I can take a run down there and ask if you want. Again, I don’t want to overstep here . . .”

“Are you kidding me? It would take us the rest of the day to drive down south. And we still think he’s here. We’ll take you up on whatever help you offer. Listen, we’ve got the entire law enforcement community looking out for Edmunds, and so far, none of us has come up with scratch. If he’s got a mom, she might know something. It’s worth a shot if you don’t mind making the trip. I don’t want to take you away from anything.”

“You’re not. I want to do this. It’s in everyone’s interest to get Edmunds off the street before he finds another victim. I’ll head there now and get in touch if I learn anything.”

“Thanks, Cole. I appreciate it,” Remy replied.

“Anytime.”

Alex narrowed his gaze. “A mom? And what, Grayson’s in on this now?”

Remy returned her phone to her bag. “He called in a favor and got a hit. Family in New Orleans.”

* * *

Joel Edmunds sat inside Wendy’s parked car in front of a furniture warehouse near the edge of town. He’d made it to Shreveport and now he needed to find her. The only person who could help him out of this shitstorm he’d created. If only Wendy hadn’t learned what he’d done. Goddam media showed his face on the news. Course, it was only a matter of time before she figured it out. She would’ve ended up dead sooner or later. Still, he’d liked her, and he hadn’t wanted to kill her. He’d liked Beth too but grew bored with her and her constant droning on about the wedding. He never should’ve agreed to it. That was his downfall.

But he was here now and lying low was his only option. Police would be on the lookout for him — on the highways leading out of the state, most likely. So he needed a place to keep his head down. If anyone could help him, it would be Elise. She’d helped him out all those years ago and he needed her now.

A car approached and he felt relief as it came to a stop next to him. The driver rolled down her window and he captured her gaze. “You came.”

“You said you needed help, so I’m here to help.” She eyed the car. “They’ll be looking for this car.”

“I know,” he replied.

“Then grab your stuff and hop in. We’ll head back to my place and figure this out.” She unlocked the passenger door and waited for him to step inside. When he closed the door, she shifted into gear. “I told you to steer clear of Beth.”

“I know. I should’ve listened,” he replied.

“And the other one?”

“Wendy?” he asked. “It wasn’t supposed to go down like that, Elise.”

“And yet it did.” She pulled out of the parking lot and headed onto the road. “Next time, take my advice. If they figure out what happened to all that insurance money, they’ll come looking my way. That happens, and it’s game over.”

* * *

It seemed Deputy Marshal Grayson had the only real lead on this case when Remy and Alex came up empty-handed after hitting nearby bars and hotels in search of Edmunds.

Alex pressed the ignition. “Where’s the next spot?”

She was checking the map on her phone when a call came through. Remy lost her breath a moment when she noticed the name of the caller. “Oh my God.”

He set his gaze to her. “What is it?”

“It’s my old partner’s mother.” Remy blinked hard and answered the call. “Mrs. Peña? How are you?”

“Remy, Remy I must tell you something.”

Alarm bells sounded in her head. Max’s mother was on the other end of the line, and her voice trembled. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but I have to tell you, mija, someone came to my home. To my home, Remy. You must help me.”

“Who was it? Did they try to come in?”

Alex gave Remy his full attention while she spoke.

“No,” Mrs. Peña continued. “They threatened me and my family, Remy. This man . . . this man called Oscar said he was there to remind you of your obligations. I didn’t know what he was talking about. I told him I hadn’t seen you or heard from you in such a long time.”

Not only was Remy terrified by what Mrs. Peña claimed, but now she felt the pang of guilt in her gut for not staying in touch with her dead partner’s mother, as she’d promised. “Mrs. Peña, please, just take a breath, okay? He came to your home?”

“Yes, of course. That’s what I’m telling you. What do I do? Is my family safe? Who is this person?”

Remy’s heart thumped hard in her chest. Kyle DeChamp had promised to threaten Max’s family if she testified against him to the parole board, but he’d clearly jumped the gun. What was he doing? More importantly, would he stop? “Mrs. Peña, I want you to do something for me, okay?”

“What is it?” she asked.

“You remember Tim?”

“Yes, of course. Max’s best friend,” she replied.

“That’s right. I’m going to call him, okay? He works in private security now and he’ll help keep you and your family safe until I can figure this out.”

“What about the police? Surely they would help me after my son gave his life for them.”

“Yes, they would, but right now, I want Tim to come and check things out for you first. Mrs. Peña, as much as I hate that this is happening to you, I believe it’s happening because of me. I need to make some calls and get you safe. That’s my priority right now. I’ll call Tim and he’ll come and see you, all right? Please don’t call the police just yet. I need you to trust me on this.”

“I trust you with anything, mija, you know that.”

There was that pang of guilt again. Mrs. Peña had trusted her with Max’s life and that hadn’t turned out well. “I’ll contact Tim right now. Just lock your doors and stay where you are. What about Miguel? Where is he right now?”

“At work. He can’t leave his job,” she added.

“I understand. When he returns home, tell him what happened and tell him that you spoke to me. Tim might’ve already arrived by then, so he can fill him in too.” Remy closed her eyes a moment. “Everything will be fine, Mrs. Peña, I promise you. Just like I promised Max that I’d look after his family.”

“You’re a good girl, Remy. I know how much Max loved you, even if he never said it. A mother knows these things.”

Remy’s lips quivered and her eyes stung. She’d never told Mrs. Peña her son’s last words, professing his love. “I’ll be in touch. Goodbye.” She dropped her phone onto the passenger seat and pressed her hands against her face.

“What the hell is happening right now, Remy?” Alex asked.

She turned to him with reddened eyes. “I think DeChamp sent someone to scare Max’s mother.”

“Why?”

“He warned me, Alex. He warned me not to go against him at his hearing.”

“Okay, but the hearing isn’t for what, a week or two? I don’t understand,” Alex replied.

“I don’t either, but I have to get someone to her house now.” Remy picked up her phone again, clearing the emotion from her throat to make the call. It had been months since she’d seen or spoken to Tim. The line rang and he answered.

“Remy, is that you?” he asked.

“It’s me. How are you, Tim?”

“I’m doing all right. Just at the office right now. What’s going on? Everything okay?” he asked.

“No, it’s not. I just got a call from Max’s mom. It’s a long story that I promise I’ll tell you soon, but for right now, she needs protection, Tim.”

“Protection? Who the hell from?” he asked.

Max knew what Remy had gone through in college, and she doubted he would’ve told Tim, even if they were best friends. Max was nothing if not loyal. But to get into that conversation now would be too painful. “Someone who knows how to get to me. That’s all I can say at the moment. He knows who I care about and he’s trying to scare me.”

“By going after Max’s mother? Remy, you gotta give me more than that. Come on, it’s me. Where are you? I’ll leave work and come see you so you can explain this to me.”

She peered through the windshield. “I’m in Shreveport. I’m working a case. I can’t leave, which is why I’m calling you. I can’t be there to help, so I need you to. Tim, will you just go see her? Assess the situation and see what you can do to keep her family safe. Put some of your people at her house. I don’t know, just something.”

“Why not call BRPD?” he asked.

“Because I’m afraid that’ll make it worse. I can’t risk harm coming to anyone else in the Peña family because of me.”

“Remy . . . you didn’t kill Max.”

She held out her hand as though he sat next to her in Alex’s car. “Stop. Please don’t. There’s no time for that. Will you help me? At least in the interim until I can figure out a more permanent solution?”

“Yeah, of course I will. You know that. I know where she lives. I’ll go now.”

“Thank you, Tim. Thank you so much.”

“I’ll do this, Remy, but it isn’t a permanent solution. If the Peñas are in danger, the police will have to step in,” he added.

“I understand. I just need you to buy me some time. I’ll figure this out, okay? And I will explain everything. Thank you, Tim. Max could always count on you.”

“And so can you, Remy. Don’t ever forget that.”

She ended the call and wiped away a stray tear from her cheek.

“So you want to tell me who that was?” Alex asked.

“Tim Castellano. He was a state trooper. He and Max were tight. Tim was injured in the line of duty and retired from the force because of it. Went into private security and now operates one of the largest firms in the state.” She swallowed down her emotions again. “He’s the only one I trust to check on Max’s family. He’ll assess the situation and give me some options. It’s the only thing I can do from here.”

She watched Alex’s expression shift from concern to what now appeared to be pity, sadness, maybe a combination of the two. “I’m okay, Alex. I’m just worried about Mrs. Peña. If this is DeChamp’s handiwork, and it’s hard to imagine it could be anything but, then he’s issued a warning.”

“What do you plan on doing about that?”

She pressed her lips together until they formed a thin white line. “I wish I knew.”

Alex drove out of the parking lot and headed in the direction of the next spot on their list that seemed an ever-growing waste of time. “We’re just going to have to push through this, Remy.”

She set her sights on the passing landscape from the passenger window. “I know.”

Alex’s phone rang and he answered on speaker. “That you, Decker?”

“It’s me. You two having any luck?”

“No, but we’re keeping at it and are on our way to another—”

“Before you do that,” Decker cut in. “They found Wendy Collins’s vehicle.”

Remy quickly drew her attention to the call. “Decker, it’s Remy. Where is it?”

“It was abandoned at a furniture warehouse parking lot about ten miles south of the city center. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, guys, but your fugitive is in the wind.”

“Christ, how much more bad news can we get in a day?” Remy looked at Alex.

“Thanks for the information, man. We’ll head back. See you soon.” Alex ended the call. “He got help again, didn’t he?”

“He had to have,” Remy began. “It’s possible he’s on foot, maybe headed to a bus or train station, but that’s a risk considering he’s made the news back in Baton Rouge. Won’t be long before it hits here.”

Alex slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “Then all we have is whatever intel Grayson can dig up for us with this guy’s mother.”

Chapter 8

Deputy US Marshal Grayson arrived at the shotgun-style home in the 6th Ward of New Orleans. The home was narrow, as was typical of the shotgun, and vinyl-clad in pale yellow with a royal blue door. It appeared in better shape than some on this street.

The 6th Ward was home to the French Market that fronted the Mississippi and the old US Mint. The neighborhood wasn’t one that welcomed law enforcement. Good thing he wasn’t in uniform.

Grayson stepped out of his Tahoe and walked up the steps of the home as dusk settled. This was clearly a woman of little means. Someone who couldn’t offer her son, adopted or not, much in the way of escape funds.

He knocked on the door. Moments passed before a frail woman, who looked in her eighties, opened the door and stood behind the screen. “Evening, ma’am.” Grayson held out his badge. “I’m Deputy US Marshal Cole Grayson. I’d like to ask you about your son, Jack Eaton. I believe he also goes by Joel Edmunds.”

She pushed up her wire-rimmed eyeglasses and peered at him through the screen. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. You got the wrong house. Best get out of here before dark if you know what’s good for you.”

She proceeded to close the door but Grayson thrust out his hand. “Pardon, ma’am. I know you’re Ada, his adoptive mother. Your son is wanted for multiple homicides in Baton Rouge and Shreveport. And that’s saying nothing of the murder of his wife and child in Orlando back in 2005. So, why don’t you save us both some trouble and tell me what you know? He’s getting help and I just need to know if it’s coming from you or from someone else.”

“I haven’t talked to that boy in years for reasons you already know,” she began. “So you wasted your time coming here, Mr. US Marshal. I got nothing to say to you and nothing to say about that piece of garbage I no longer claim as my son.”

“I’m here this evening, Mrs. Eaton, to figure out where Jack might be headed. Lots of people are looking for him now, but if, by chance, that man makes it out of Louisiana, I need to know where he’ll go. So, ma’am, you know something, you might ought to say so.”

The old woman stared at him with the eyes of a mother about to whip her kid’s backside. Insulted, aggravated, and entirely displeased. She pushed open the screen door. “Come in.”

Grayson stepped inside and entered the living room. The curtains were drawn and only a single lamp burned next to an old black sofa. He could see all the way through to the bedroom at the back of the house, where the door was closed. No hallways in the old shotgun homes. One room led right into the other.

“Sit down. You want some water?” Her shoulders hunched over, and she wore a dressing gown that hung loosely on her skeletal frame.

“No, thank you, ma’am. I just want answers.” He sat down on the worn faux-leather sofa and smoothed back his thick brown hair.

She shuffled in slippers and sat on a rocker across from him. “I’ll tell you one thing, I never wanted to adopt that boy. It was my husband’s idea. Got no earthly reason as to why, except he wanted a son. We had trouble getting pregnant again after our daughter was born. Now, I already told you I don’t know where the hell Jack’s gone to. Don’t know what more I can say.”

“Daughter?” Grayson had no idea about a daughter, and he was pretty sure Remy hadn’t either.

“Yes, sir. They was close. Only a few years apart in age, which I suspect had something to do with that closeness. So, I imagine she’d help him if he asked.”

“Do you think she’s played a part in helping him stay off the grid for the past seventeen years?”

“I got no idea. Like I said, I don’t speak to Jack and hardly to Elise. You’re better off going to see her.”

“Where is she? What’s her name again?” he asked.

“Elise. Last I heard, she was in Shreveport doing God knows what.”

Grayson got to his feet and pulled out a business card to hand over. “I appreciate your time, ma’am. You think of anything else, or you hear from Jack, please give me a call.”

* * *

Edmunds stepped inside the apartment. “Nice place, Elise. Stepping up in the world, huh?”

“If you say so. There’s a room at the end of the hall. You can put your stuff down in there. Bathroom’s the second door on the right.”

“Thanks.” He continued to the room and set down a duffle bag. “How’s Mom doing these days?” he called out.

“She’s eighty, so not great. I tried to get her to move in with me, but she refuses to leave New Orleans.”

Edmunds returned to the living room. “She’s been there a long time.” He sat down on the sofa. “So what now?”

“I don’t know. You tell me,” Elise replied. “They’ll be looking for you and it won’t take them long to figure out where you are. I can’t have you putting me in that kind of danger.”

He regarded her. “I gave you plenty of money last time. Is that what it’ll take again? I need to keep my head down, Elise, you know that.”

“What do I do when the cops come knocking, Jack? Look, all I’m saying is I got you here so you can make a plan, but you can’t stay. You should’ve just left her. She had no money. No value at all and you killed her for what?” When he went silent, she continued. “That’s what I thought. I get why you took out Beth Ann, but you screwed up, brother. Two more women are dead. I can’t help you out of this one no matter how much cash you throw my way.”

“Then let me take your car. I get it. I can’t stay. But you can’t throw me out onto the streets or else why did you come help me in the first place?”

“You can’t take my car, but I have a friend. He wants three thousand dollars and you can have his wheels. He’s got valid plates and tags. You can make it out of Louisiana in it. Then you’re on your own,” she replied.

“I don’t have that much cash on me. I can’t get into my bank or use my cards.” Edmunds stood from the couch. “I have enough cash to last me a couple weeks, at best.”

“Then you’d better hit the ground running. I did what I could, Jack. I’m sorry.”

* * *

In the dusky light, a tepid breeze rolled in from the south as Remy and Alex returned to the Shreveport police station to meet up with Captain Decker. News that the Toyota Camry had been found absent its driver was just another blow in the hunt for their fugitive.

Alex led the way to Decker’s office for a briefing on the situation. The captain still had a suspected murderer likely inside the city limits, so he wasn’t in the clear yet.

Remy trailed him, growing concerned that Grayson hadn’t reached out yet. He would’ve made it to New Orleans by now, and she wondered whether the mother would cooperate. But since she hadn’t heard, her hopes had diminished.

Alex walked into the captain’s office. “Decker, what’s going on? Tell me someone spotted our guy.”

He peered up from his desk. “I wish I could, man. But I did have an interesting conversation with a reporter. Kid came all the way over from Orlando via Baton Rouge.”

“Orlando? And he came to see you?” Alex shot a glance at Remy. “He followed us?”

“If we can’t shake this guy, he could become a problem,” Remy replied.

Decker pushed back from his desk. “He mentioned he’d spoken to Detective Blake with BRPD first. Heard another BOLO had been issued and that Edmunds was last seen here.”

“Sounds like he’s listening to a scanner,” Remy said.

“What’s he want? The scoop?” Alex sat down across from the captain.

“This kid, Eric Calderon with the Orlando Times . . . he thinks Joel Edmunds might’ve been the person who murdered his mother back in 2009. She lived in Tallahassee,” Decker replied. “He claims your boy had gone by another name. I don’t know, but he’s persistent.”

Remy pressed her hands on the back of a nearby chair. “I would be too if my mother had been murdered.” Her phone rang in her pocket. “Sorry about that. I’ll step out and take this.” Seeing the call was from Grayson, a glint of hope sparked in her. She stepped into the hall and answered. “Hey. How’d it go? Did she talk?”

“Some, but one thing stood out,” Grayson replied. “Edmunds has a sister. Guess where she lives?”

Remy turned stone-faced. “No. Shreveport? He has a sister here?” She shook her head. “How the hell did we not know that? First we learn the guy has an adoptive mother and now a sister? Why wasn’t any of this in the file Decker got from Orlando PD?”

“I wish I had an answer for you, Remy,” he replied. “Point is, if you haven’t been able to locate him, it’s probably because his sister is helping him.”

“Right. Jesus, okay. Listen, I have to tell Alex and the captain about this.” She took a step and stopped short. “Is there anything else this woman told you?”

“Just that the sister is her biological daughter. Jack Eaton was adopted, but she wasn’t. And given this woman’s lifestyle, I’d be hard pressed to believe she has any way to help her son with money.”

Remy nodded. “Okay, thank you, Cole. Thank you for pitching in. I know you have your own job and I . . .”

“Don’t sweat it, Remy. We’re all on the same team. I’m headed back to Baton Rouge. Stay safe up there and keep in touch.”

“I will. Bye.” She returned to Decker’s office and captured Alex’s gaze. “Edmunds has a sister, and she lives here.”

Alex shot up from the chair. “Wait. A sister in Shreveport? We checked Edmunds’ background. We scoured the Orlando case files. The man had no family and somehow Grayson finds he has a living mother and now a sister too? Why the hell wasn’t any of this in his history, or in the case file for that matter?”

“I don’t know except that either the detective on the case was extraordinarily bad at his job, or . . .”

“They zeroed in on Edmunds/Eaton and didn’t bother looking any deeper,” Decker cut in. “Happens all the time. Seen it myself. Some detectives wear blinders. Can’t see the forest for the trees. I can’t say for sure that’s what’s happened here because the man’s family would’ve been an important aspect of the original case, but just saying . . .”

Alex groaned his displeasure. “If we’d known about the sister, we could’ve tracked her down the moment we arrived.” He turned up his gaze to Remy. “Do we have an address?”

* * *

About a block from the apartment where the sister of their fugitive lived, Remy and Alex waited in a corner store parking lot.

“Are we ready to knock on her door?” Alex asked.

Remy caught sight of headlights approaching. “As long as that’s our backup.”

Alex peered through the windshield. “Looks like Decker’s guys.”

“Then I guess we’re ready. Let’s get this over with because I’d like to go home tonight.” Remy buckled her seatbelt as Alex headed out.

Moments later, and with a patrol car trailing them, they arrived at the complex.

Alex eyed the second floor of the multi-unit building. “If he sees us coming, he’ll go out the fire escape at the back. We should have a man back there.”

“I agree. Let’s assume he’s armed as well, so we’ll need to be ready for anything.” Remy waited for the patrol car to stop next to them. The officer rolled down the window. “Thanks for helping out. Place is on the second floor. Third door down. We figured there’s probably a fire exit around back.”

“You want one of us to stand watch?” the officer asked.

“Please,” Alex cut in. “Assume the suspect is armed and act accordingly. He’s in his early-fifties, overweight. He won’t be the fastest, so if he runs, you shouldn’t have much trouble catching up to him.”

“Got it. You just tell us when. We’re ready to roll when you are.”

Remy glanced up at the apartment unit. The front window had curtains drawn and no lights shone from inside that she could see. “We’re losing light fast, so let’s do this right now.”

The officer shifted into Park. “Yes, ma’am.”

Remy checked her weapon. “All right, Alex. We’re up.” She opened her door and stepped out, hurrying to the sidewalk to avoid being seen from the unit above. When Alex caught up to her, she pointed to the stairs.

The other officers disappeared around the back of the building while Remy and Alex walked to the second floor. As she peered at the iron railing that ran along the breezeway, she couldn’t help but recall the moment Vanessa Dunn had leaped to her death over the oil rig. She’d tried to grab hold of her, but the pant leg slipped through her fingers. She had to shake away the image and focus on Joel Edmunds. They needed to end this before anyone else was murdered.

Remy raised her hand and closed it into a fist. Alex stopped at her signal. She drew in a deep breath and knocked. “LBI and Shreveport PD. Open up.” She looked at Alex and he nodded for her to continue. “Joel Edmunds, we know you’re inside with your sister. There’s no way out. The building is surrounded. Open the door now.”

The deadbolt unlatched, catching their attention. Remy flipped off her gun’s safety and Alex held his at the ready. When the handle turned, she widened her stance and raised her weapon.

A woman appeared on the other side, but Remy charged in and knocked her to the ground. “Alex, find him.” She straddled the woman and pulled her arms behind her back. “You’re under arrest for aiding and abetting a fugitive.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” She struggled beneath Remy’s firm position.

“Where’s your brother? Is he here? The building is surrounded.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, lady. You’ve made a mistake.”

“Spare me.” She looked ahead. “Alex?”

He returned from the hall and holstered his gun. “He’s not here.”

Chapter 9

Remy paced the living room while Alex sat next to Edmunds’ sister on the couch. “He was here. We know he was, so that means you know where he went. Do you understand that your brother murdered three women and his own child? And that’s just what we know of right now. Why are you protecting him?”

“Like I said, ma’am, I haven’t seen Jack in a long time. Years, I’d say. And I know what he did, which is a big reason why I don’t associate with him, as I’m sure you can understand.”

“Why else would your brother come here if not to ask for your help?” Alex demanded.

“I couldn’t tell you. What I can say is that you’re wasting your time questioning me.”

Alex stood from the sofa and grabbed his phone from his pocket. He walked toward Remy, who stood near the door. “I’m going to make a call outside.” She nodded and he opened the door to the now darkened sky. The two officers stood watch in front of the unit. “You two can head out. We got this from here. Appreciate you stepping in to help.”

“Are you sure, Agent Chasse? We’re happy to stick around,” the officer replied.

“Thanks, but we got it.”

“All right. Good luck.” He tossed a glance at his partner, who followed him down the stairs to the ground floor.

Alex made the call. “Decker, it’s me. We’re at the sister’s house. I just sent your officers home. We missed the son of a bitch. He’s gone. But more importantly, she denies he was ever here. I need your help.”

“Anything . . . as long as it’s legit,” Decker replied.

“I want to bring her in. She’s protecting him and we’ll have to put the fear of God in her to get her to talk.”

“We can do that. In the meantime, if he’s gone, she gave him a way to get out . . .”

“Meaning he has another set of wheels.” Alex considered the matter. “Her car is here, so she must have arranged for someone else to pitch in. That’s who we’ll want to get from her. Edmunds won’t stay in Louisiana for long. Not when he knows how close we are.”

“Bring her in. I’ll do what I can,” Decker said.

“Appreciate it.” Alex ended the call and returned inside. “Okay, sis, we’re going to have to take you to the station for questioning.”

“What? I already told you I haven’t seen Jack. I have no clue where he is,” Elise replied.

“So you say, but we’ll need to get a sworn statement to that effect,” Remy added.

Elise’s gaze shifted between the agents. “Don’t I get a lawyer or something?”

“If you feel like you need one, absolutely.” Alex pulled her up from the sofa and escorted the woman outside and down the steps. He opened the rear passenger door and guided her inside.

Remy turned her attention to Alex. “Okay, so now what? We question her and . . . ? All we’re doing is giving Edmunds time to get farther away. What can we do right now to stop him?”

Alex peered out into the distance. “Finding out who’s helping him is the only way to stop him, Remy. That woman arranged for his getaway. She lined it up for him, and she’s not talking. That has to change, or we’re screwed.”

* * *

When the sister of a suspected murderer began to play to the notion of innocence, Remy knew the time had come to look into her history and figure out her part in this. Because there was no mistaking that a sister, blood or not, would ever turn a blind eye to murder even if it was her own brother. So what was her reason?

They returned to the Shreveport police station and Decker put Elise Eaton into an interview room. Alex stood in the adjacent hall with Remy and the captain. “Any chance you can pull a background on this woman before we have a sit-down with her?”

“You got it. Follow me. Let’s talk to one of my guys.” Decker headed down the hall and arrived in the bullpen, making his way to one of the officers. “Gentry, I want you to meet FAU Agents Chasse and Fontaine. They’re looking for Joel Edmunds, aka Jack Eaton.”

“The BOLO,” Gentry replied. “Yeah, I heard y’all brought in the guy’s sister.” The slim officer with sharp features and a smooth face eyed Remy a moment.

“We did. Now we want to know more about her, and fast. Can you help?” she asked.

“Sure.” He eyed his computer. “Just give me a name.”

“Elise Eaton,” Decker cut in. “Resides at 3289 South. 12th Street. Unit 230.”

Gentry typed in the name. “It’ll take me a few minutes. You want me to come find you when I have everything?”

Decker raised his brow at Alex. “Well?”

“Yeah, sure. We can look in on her and see how she’s holding up.”

“All right then. I’ll take you to the monitor room and we’ll see what she’s up to.” Decker looked back at Gentry. “This is top priority.”

“Got it, Captain.”

Decker started into the hall and led the way to a door several feet from the interview room. “Right through here.”

Remy walked inside and noticed an officer at the table peering at the monitors. “Evening. How’s she been doing?”

He turned to her. “So far? Pretty quiet. Asked for a bottle of water earlier and that’s about it. Who are you?”

“LBI Fugitive Apprehension. Remy Fontaine.” She offered her hand.

“Good to meet you, Agent Fontaine. This is about the Edmunds case, right?”

“Yes, sir.” She turned to Alex. “This is . . .”

The officer smiled. “I know who this is.” He stood from the chair. “Good to see you, brother.”

Alex took his hand. “Mac, good to see you too, man. How you been? How’s Jessica and the kids?”

“Doing great. Everyone’s growing like weeds. And Maggie and your two?” he asked.

“Same as ever, just growing,” Alex replied. “It feels good to be back here, even with this case. It’s good to see everyone.”

“I’ll bet.” Mac returned to the monitor. “So, listen, what are your plans with her?”

“She’s hiding her brother. Decker’s got Gentry running background on her now. We’re hoping he’ll find something we can leverage,” Alex replied.

“Better happen quick,” Decker cut in.

Alex glanced at the screen. “She doesn’t look like she’s ready to talk.”

The door opened and Gentry hurried inside. “Captain, I got something here I think y’all will want to see.” He handed over the file.

Decker opened it while Remy and Alex waited. “Well, what do you know? She’s not the sweet innocent sister she portrays herself to be.” He handed it to Alex. “See for yourself.”

Remy knitted her brow and peered over Alex’s shoulder. “Bank fraud. She’s a bad check writer. Okay. What else? We need more than that.”

Gentry stepped in again. “Agent Chasse, this is what I thought you’d be most interested in.” He turned to the page and pointed to it.

“She lived in Orlando in ’05.” Alex turned to Remy. “That was Edmunds’ first murder investigation.”

“The cold case,” Remy replied. “What else?”

“There’s a Suspicious Activity Report from a bank,” Alex continued. “She deposited nearly twenty thousand dollars into an account in Orlando that same year.”

“How did she get that kind of money?” Remy asked. “More importantly, are there more deposits like this one?”

* * *

Edmunds flipped on the headlights of the old white Pontiac Grand Am currently in his possession. His sister had come through once again. While evening settled in, Edmunds drove the back roads, staying off the highways and main streets to avoid cameras. He headed west toward Texas. If he could just make it out of the state, he would have time to create a plan. Something he hadn’t had up until now. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. His original plan had been to lay low with Wendy, but that hadn’t worked out.

He glanced at the burner he’d purchased with cash an hour ago, wondering whether he should reach out to his sister. Underestimating the police would be a mistake on his part, so he had to assume they’d come for her. At the very least, to get a statement. And the connection to his previous case wouldn’t be hard to follow. So, maybe contacting her wasn’t the best move. No one was left. His mother wouldn’t help, and no friends were willing to break the law for him. Edmunds was on his own and he was about to start over — again.

As he drove through the secondary roads, a sign appeared. “Carthage, Texas. 100 miles. Good a place as any.” So, rather than spending the night on the road, he’d arrive in a couple of hours and find a place to lay his head. Out of Louisiana and out of range of the BOLO. He’d have to take Route 79, which was a busier highway than he’d like, but better than the I-20. “So that’s the plan.”

The exit for State Route 79 drew near and Edmunds had just moved to the right lane when a hissing sound screamed from the engine. Steam drifted into the night air as the car chugged and lost speed. “Son of a bitch!” Edmunds pulled over to the shoulder and rolled to a stop. “Goddam it! What the hell am I supposed to do now?” He eyed the cell phone again and scoffed. “Well, why don’t I just call Triple goddam A?”

As the car sputtered and finally quit, Edmunds stepped out into the tepid evening air. The road was pitch black. No streetlamps anywhere and tall trees bordered the roadway.

Edmunds walked to the front of the car and stared at the hood while steam continued to rise. Unless he wanted third-degree burns on his hands, he’d have to find a towel or something to open the hood. He returned to the inside of the car and peered around with the flashlight from the burner phone. Nothing useful. He popped the trunk from the inside and walked around back, and on raising the lid, a shocking sight met his eyes.

“Holy shit!”

He shone the light from the phone inside the trunk.

The dead man lay in an unnatural position, his neck pressed against his right shoulder. His legs were bent behind him to fit into the tight space. Blood had spilled from his skull down his face and his eyes were open, exposing pupils that were clouded over. The large, grotesque man stared up at him. “Who the fuck are you?”

Edmunds surveyed the area around him ensuring no one else had been witness to this new predicament. But the road was quiet, and darkness worked in his favor.

He slammed the trunk lid and returned behind the wheel of the old Pontiac. “What the hell do I do now? You did this, didn’t you, Elise? This is the price I have to pay? Giving you the money wasn’t enough. Now I have to cover up someone else’s problem too.” He supposed it was par for the course. In retrospect, it was a blessing in disguise that he had seen the body now before he crossed the state line. He could dump it here and be done with it.

But there was still the problem of what he assumed was a busted radiator. He wasn’t going to get far without a new one. Even if he refilled it with water, he’d only get so far before the engine overheated again. But maybe that was the only solution. Dump the body and find a source of water, which wasn’t going to be too hard, he imagined. Ponds and streams and swamps were everywhere. Get as far as he could until he could put distance between himself and the dead guy.

Edmunds returned to open the trunk again and crinkled his nose. “Must’ve been dead a while, buddy.” He reached inside to hoist the man up as his phone rang. Edmunds dropped the heavy body and shot upright again, nearly banging his head on the trunk lid. “What the hell?”

* * *

Captain Decker entered the interview room where Edmunds’ sister waited. “You doing all right? Sorry to have kept you waiting.”

She eyed him. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t know why I’m here.”

He continued inside — Remy and Alex trailed him. “You’re here because these people with the Louisiana Bureau of Investigation are looking for your brother. But then, you know that already. So, I’m going to leave you in their capable hands.” He turned to Alex. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Alex patted Decker’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

Remy sat down at the table across from her. “So, Elise, you feel like telling us where Joel is? Or should I call him Jack? That’s his real name, right? And you’re his sister.”

“Not by blood. He was adopted.”

“Right. I hear your mom’s doing well,” Remy said.

“How the hell would you know that?”

“US Marshals paid her a visit.” Remy leaned over the table. “Elise, this isn’t a game. Your brother has murdered at least three women that we know of and you’ve helped him escape.” She pulled back. “I’m guessing not for the first time either.”

“Guess all you want, Agent Fontaine.” She shrugged. “I have nothing to say to either of you.”

Alex tossed the file onto the table. “We’ve had a chance to learn a little more about you, Elise. For instance, you came into a fair bit of money after Joel murdered his wife and daughter. Care to explain how that happened?”

She eyed them with contempt but kept quiet.

“Okay,” Remy cut in. “How about the fact that Joel’s current fiancée, the now deceased Beth Ann, had a decent-sized insurance policy taken out on her about sixty days ago. And here’s the funny thing, you’re listed as a beneficiary. Recently listed, as a matter of fact. Now, why would that be when Joel was the one marrying her?”

“I have nothing to say to either of you, but feel free to keep spouting conspiracy theories,” Elise replied.

“Seems a little more than a conspiracy,” Alex added. “Seems to me, you’re an accomplice to murder. Twice over, as it now stands. Life sentence, for sure. And all the while, your brother roams free somewhere.”

Remy held Elise’s gaze a moment. “Elise, you need to tell us where Joel is. If he takes another life, it’s on you. Not that I’m entirely sure you care about that.”

“Of course I care,” she shot back. “I never wanted . . .”

Alex pressed his hands against the table and leaned in. “Never wanted what? If you know where your brother is, it’s in your best interest to talk to us.”

She shifted her gaze between them. “And how does that help me?”

“Depends on what you have to say,” Remy replied. “Do you want to talk?”

“Not without a lawyer.”

“Fair enough. I’ll arrange for one right now.” Remy walked out and headed straight to the monitor room. “You catch that?”

“Sure did,” Decker replied. “I can have a public defender here in twenty minutes.”

“Can you make it ten?” she asked.

* * *

Decker had gone above and beyond when he reached Remy and Alex inside the breakroom sipping on coffee at eight o’clock in the evening. Within ten minutes, the public defender had arrived and met with his newest client. Now, it was time. He popped his head into the breakroom. “Lawyer’s ready to sit down with you two now.”

Remy set down her empty cup on the nearby counter. “What’s the temperature?”

“Not sure. He seems pretty cool about the entire thing.” Decker started into the hall and toward the monitoring room. “I’ll watch. Best to let you folks do this. No point in me getting tangled up in a state investigation.”

“Gee, thanks. I owe you,” Alex replied.

The agents entered the interview room where a man in his late twenties, dressed in a dark suit and with over-gelled hair, sat next to Elise Eaton. Remy returned to her chair and Alex pulled up alongside her.

The lawyer cleared his throat. “My client, Elise Eaton, is prepared to talk to you both on one condition.”

Remy already knew what was coming. “And that is?”

“Immunity,” he replied.

Alex raised the corner of his mouth into a crooked smile. “Immunity? After what she’s done over the course of what, nearly twenty years? That’s a sweetheart deal.”

“Immunity or she doesn’t talk.” He eyed them. “So how badly do you want Joel Edmunds.”

Remy eyed Alex a moment and appeared to reach an unspoken consensus with her partner. She returned her attention to the attorney. “It’ll have to go through the DA. I can’t make that call and I think you know that.”

“Then Ms. Eaton has nothing to say until you get it in writing,” he replied.

Alex jumped from the chair and planted his hands on his waist. “We don’t have time for this.”

Remy kept her sights on Elise as she cut in. “Call Hubert. He’ll take care of it.”

Alex marched out of the room with his phone in hand.

“Okay, so we do this, and I assume that means the information you have will lead us straight to him,” Remy began. “Otherwise, you’re asking too high a price and the DA will shoot down your request.”

“Trust me, Agent Fontaine,” the lawyer began. “You’ll want to know what she has to say.”

Chapter 10

Time had been against the FAU agents and now they awaited the DA’s approval of the immunity deal for Edmunds’ sister. Remy’s patience had grown thin and even if Elise knew where her brother was, so much time had passed, Joel was probably no longer there. And this would have all been for nothing.

She peered through Captain Decker’s office window. “He’ll be able to travel more easily now that it’s dark.”

Alex perched on the edge of a lateral filing cabinet with his arms folded and glanced outside. “And we have no idea what information Elise has.”

Remy turned back to him. “It could be useless to us by now.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she picked up the call. “Evening, sir. You have news for us?”

“DA’s emailing the deal now. I’ll send it on to you and then you can get what you need from this man’s sister.”

“Thank you, sir. Our window is closing fast,” she replied.

“Believe me, I get that. Do what you have to do to find this man before he takes another life. This case gets any bigger, and you know where it goes from here.”

“I do. US Marshals, FBI . . . We’ll find him before we cross that bridge. Thank you, sir, and we’ll keep you posted.” Remy ended the call. “The deal’s coming over now.”

“It’s about time.” Alex pushed off from the cabinet.

Remy stared at her phone, waiting for the email to arrive. “Here it is. Decker, you mind if I send this to you to print out?”

“Send it over.” He waited a moment. “Got it. I’ll run to the printer now.”

After he’d stepped out of the office, Remy continued. “Should we go through it or are we good with whatever it says?”

“No point in wasting more time. The lawyer will comb over it for her. I just want to get her talking, and fast,” he replied.

Decker leaned into the doorway. “Let’s go. I got it right here.” He started back to the interview room with Remy and Alex following. “This is your deal.” He handed the papers to Alex. “You can run with it.”

“Thanks, man.” He pushed open the door to the interview room where Elise waited with her attorney. Remy followed him inside. He tossed the papers onto the table. “Looks like you got your wish. Now, where’s your brother?”

The attorney returned a sideways glance at Alex and pulled the papers close. “It’s not signed.”

“It’s a copy of the deal. It’s the best we could do at short notice,” Remy replied. “Take it, or your client will spend the next several years behind bars.”

The lawyer leaned toward Elise and the two whispered, studying the deal. It took a few minutes, but he cleared his throat and looked at Remy. “Fine. My client agrees to the deal.” He turned to Elise. “Tell them what you know about Jack.”

“I know how to contact him,” she began. “He bought a burner phone and texted me the number. It’s about time I call him because he’ll be wondering about something right about now.”

“Such as?” Remy asked.

“I’ll have to make the call in private,” she replied.

“The hell you will.” Remy stepped toward the table. “You think we’re going to sit back and let you warn him? I don’t think so. Make the call now, or you get no deal.” Remy lay the woman’s phone on the table in front of her.

The lawyer turned to Elise. “Go ahead.”

She picked it up and dialed the number. The call rang through, and she pressed the phone against her ear.

“Put it on speaker,” Alex demanded.

Elise did as he asked when the line answered.

“Hello, sis. Figured it was you since no one else has this number. Seems you left me a surprise to deal with. You want to tell me what the hell’s going on?”

“Jack, where are you?” Elise insisted.

“First, tell me who he is,” Edmunds replied.

“Just turn yourself in, Jack, or they’re sending me to prison,” she replied.

“You made this my problem for a reason. And now that I know the cops already have you, you’re of no use to me now. Goodbye, Elise.”

Her eyes widened and her lips parted. “He hung up. Asshole hung up on me.”

Decker waited inside the monitor room to check the cell towers. When he got the ping on Edmunds’ phone, he darted into the hall and pushed open the door to the interview room. “We got him. He’s near the Texas border.”

* * *

The roads were wet from a quick downpour earlier in the evening. Alex drove at breakneck speed through the streets of Shreveport while mist kicked up onto his windshield. He turned on the wipers.

Remy white-knuckled the arm of the passenger door and kept her eyes on the road ahead. “The troopers I called will get there before we do.”

“I know, but I just want to get there.” He noticed the tension on her face. “I’m sorry. I’ll slow down.”

“We got him, Alex. This is almost over.” But she didn’t really believe that.

He merged onto the freeway. “Half a mile. We should see lights. Yep. They’re here.”

Remy’s heart raced in her chest and a sense of dread overcame her. Her only thought? “He’s not there.” She felt it in her gut.

Alex slowed as he neared the scene and glanced at her. “You okay?”

“He’s not here, Alex. He knew we were coming, and he took off.”

“On foot on a highway?” He thrust the gearshift into Park.

“He hitched a ride.” She hopped out of Alex’s car and jogged to meet the trooper, who spotted her approach.

“Fontaine, it’s good to see you.”

“Harper, been a long time.” She shook his hand. “Tell me you have him.” When he averted his eyes, she knew. “Goddam it.”

“I’m sorry, Remy. He was gone when we arrived. My guess is, he thumbed for a ride. No way he’d trek through that swampy mess over there.”

Alex joined her and picked up on her changed mood. “Damn.”

“He’s gone,” she whispered.

Harper cleared his throat. “But there is something else you should see.” He started toward the abandoned vehicle. “It looks as though the radiator blew up on him. He pulled to the side of the road, and then when we arrived and searched the vehicle.” Harper reached the trunk lid and opened it. “We found this.”

Remy and Alex peered inside and Remy shot Harper a look. “What in the hell?”

“That’s kind of what we thought. No idea if your guy killed this man . . .”

She leaned closer and shone her phone’s light onto the corpse. “I don’t think so. This guy’s been dead a while. Days, at least.” She looked at Alex. “Elise arranged to get this car for him . . .”

“And there’s a dead body inside. You think that was planned? Did she do it?” Alex asked.

Remy continued to examine the body. “I don’t know. Forensics will have to figure that out.” She looked at Harper. “Y’all will take possession?”

“We will. He’ll go to the ME’s office in Shreveport. We’ll figure out who he is . . .”

“And whether he fits into our investigation.” Remy peered out onto the highway. “In the meantime, Edmunds hitched a ride with someone who has no idea who he is.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Alex cut in. “His face is on the news, social media. Some unsuspecting driver probably pulled over and asked if he could help. Maybe he recognized him but wasn’t given a choice. Edmunds could be armed.”

“The Texas border is only miles away. Edmunds is gone.”

Alex moved alongside her, staring out into the distance. “Then we’re out of options. It’s time for the Marshals to step in.”

* * *

The troopers remained on scene collecting whatever evidence they could now they had a dead body on their hands. The car would be towed to the Shreveport PD, but at the end of it all, Remy’s fugitive was still in the wind. And now, most likely, out of the state. Her window had just slammed shut, and the investigation would be taken out of her hands.

The hours’ long drive back to Baton Rouge left her with too much time to think about how all this went so wrong. After a long silence, she glanced at Alex. “Decker will keep tabs on Elise Eaton?”

“She’ll be free to go, but he insisted he’ll have eyes on her in case her brother returns and wants to meet up. I wouldn’t count on it, though.”

“Neither would I. He’d be foolish to come back this way. And after seventeen years on the run, I don’t think he’s a foolish man, just a dangerous one,” she replied.

“Look, you’ve been at this long enough to know things don’t always go to plan. Best we can do is get back home, get some sleep, and regroup first thing in the morning. I imagine they’ll reach out to the Marshal’s office in Austin, have Grayson jump in and maybe get the Orlando office involved too.”

“It’s going to get messy, isn’t it?” she said.

“Oh yeah, but we don’t have a choice except to push through it, Remy. I’ve lost fugitives before and now you have too. All we can do is our jobs.”

She kept her eyes on the road ahead, lit only by the headlights. She considered telling Alex about the hearing and what Hubert and Gainor wanted her to do. The weight of that decision had thrown her off and was probably the reason she’d let Edmunds slip away. Of course, it was easy to blame the distraction. Anything to shift it from herself. Old habits die hard, apparently.

“Listen, um . . .” Remy cleared her throat. “You asked me what Hubert and Gainor wanted . . .”

“And you said it was nothing,” Alex replied.

“Right. Well, it wasn’t nothing.”

“What’s going on, Remy? You can talk to me, you know that.”

“And I’m so grateful to you for that.” She glanced at him. “You know I’ve talked about the hearing and my statement and all that . . .”

“Sure.”

“It’s a long story that I’m not sure I even fully comprehend, but Gainor’s been working with the Criminal Division for a while, which was why he was absent from our team for so long. Anyway, turns out he was working on breaking up a trafficking ring. This ring, Alex. It’s still being operated, at least in part, by DeChamp. He’s pulling the strings.”

His brow knitted. “What?”

“From prison. I should’ve figured it out when he told me he was stronger on the inside.”

“Wait, you talked to him? After all the letters and shit, you talked to him? Like at the prison?”

She noticed his grip on the wheel tighten. “I went to see him, yes. He threatened to hurt my former partner’s family if I delivered my statement opposing his parole.”

“Jesus, Remy. Is that why that woman called you? He really sent someone after her? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I thought it was just Kyle being Kyle. He always wielded threats and well, turns out, he followed through on this one. Tim texted me earlier and said he got Mrs. Peña and her youngest son out of the house. I still have to come up with a plan to keep them safe. And now I’m worried about Claire and her family.” She wiped away an unexpected tear.

“My God. Okay, so about what Hubert and Gainor wanted. If Elliot’s still working with CD on this ring, how does it involve you?”

“That’s the thing. Elliot wants my witness statement to the parole board to say that I think DeChamp deserves parole. He thinks the only way to end this ring is to take out DeChamp. Hey, I’m all on board with killing that son of a bitch, but that’s not what we do.”

Alex scoffed. “This whole thing is one hell of a big risk. Look at what’s already happened? And Hubert was on board with this? What the hell happens if DeChamp comes after you?” He slapped the steering wheel. “No, this is bullshit. No way is this how this goes down. I’ll tell Hubert myself.”

“Alex, I appreciate your concern, but maybe Hubert’s right. Of course, I did consider that Hubert knew this all along and that was the real reason he hired me.”

Alex shot her a look. “No. That can’t be.”

“Can’t it? Timing works.”

“No, I refuse to believe that, especially after all you’ve done in this department in the short time you’ve been here,” he replied.

“Maybe, but the timing is suspicious.” Remy let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know what to do, Alex. I’d love nothing more than to see DeChamp dead, but it took me years to get past what happened. Hell, I’m still dealing with those demons. What am I supposed to do?”

“Claire doesn’t know, does she?”

“She will soon enough when I have to send cops to her house to keep watch. Or better yet, get all of them out of there.”

Alex was silent for a moment longer before he eyed her. “So, what are you going to do?”

Chapter 11

The answer never came. Remy didn’t know what to do. They drove back to Baton Rouge, and now, she was home. The hour verged on three a.m. and she would have to return to the office by seven a.m. Hubert had already made the call to the Marshals’ office. She knew Grayson would be among those on the case, working with the Austin office. Where would she fit in?

Remy padded in socked feet to her bedroom and placed her weapon in the security box she kept inside the drawer of her nightstand. It had felt good to talk to Alex and tell him what happened. Telling Claire was going to be a tough call, but she had to know the truth.

She perched on the edge of her bed wondering what to do when another call came in. “Tim? Hey, is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine, Remy.” He must’ve picked up on her fear as he offered reassurance. “I’m sorry it’s so late, but I’ve been putting some things together. You have a minute to figure this out?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good, because I’m standing outside your place right now. I saw you just got home. I didn’t want to risk being followed so I’ve been circling your building for a while.”

Remy jumped off the bed and hurried toward the door. She opened it and let out a breath at the sight of him. “Come in.”

“Thanks.” The brace on his right leg caused a hitch in his gait as he walked inside. In his mid-thirties, a long and painful road awaited him until the doctors could find a way to fix the problem.

She’d forgotten how good it felt to be around him. He and Max had been so close, like brothers, and so she felt close to him too. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did for Max’s mom and brother.”

He continued into the living room and turned to her. “Are you kidding? They’re like family to me. Same as you, Remy.”

“Can I get you anything?” she asked.

“No, thanks.” He lowered himself carefully to sit on the couch. “I need you to tell me what the hell is going on and what you want me to do about Claire.”

Remy moved in next to him and sat down. With a deep intake of breath, she filled him in on DeChamp and all that had happened over the course of several years, but more recently, since DeChamp decided to reach out to her again. And now the parole hearing. “I’m a little surprised Max never told you all this.”

“Did you ask him to keep it to himself?” Tim regarded her with light blue eyes that held such care in them.

“I did,” she replied.

“There you go.” He cast his sights to the ceiling as if pondering the world’s problems. But it seemed he only had one on his mind. “I have enough contacts, enough people out there I trust who can shelter Claire and her family for as long as you need. Max’s family is safe, so I don’t want you to worry about that.”

“Thank you, Tim. I haven’t told her any of this yet, but I know I can’t put it off. Not when I don’t know what’s going to happen next.” She held his gaze. “It feels like home being with you. I haven’t felt that way since . . .”

“Same here.” He smiled. “We all used to have a lot of fun together, didn’t we?”

“We did. It seems like a long time ago.”

He placed his hand gently on her upper back. “Not so long ago, Remy. Are you happy doing this job?”

She nodded. “I am. It’s a good fit for me. And you? Are you happy?”

He pulled away his hand and looked out through the sliding glass door. “Well, now, that’s an entirely different question. I miss the job. I miss Emma, but I understand why she left.” He turned back to Remy. “Let me do what I do best. You do what you need in order to stop this man from coming after you and those you love.”

“Yeah, I will.”

Tim stood from the sofa with some effort. “Tell your sister and I’ll take care of the rest.” He started toward the door.

Remy followed him. “When this is over, we should catch up over a beer.”

He opened the door and turned to face her. “I’d love that, Remy. Goodnight. I’ll keep you updated.”

“I’ll do the same. Goodnight, Tim.” She closed the door, securing the deadbolt. Remy leaned her back against the door and closed her eyes. It seemed like her old life was never very far away. Tim Castellano was a bright spot in that old life, just as Max had been.

Remy prepared to make the call to Claire. It was three in the morning, but she’d waited long enough. Tim would do his thing and it was time for her to do hers. But as she stared at her phone, she recalled those early days with Kyle DeChamp and how it had been Claire who’d saved her life then.

How easily Remy had been manipulated by him. Given her strong upbringing, Remy should’ve known better. Then again, hindsight was always twenty-twenty.

It seemed a lifetime ago. She was only a kid then and had seen things no one, no matter the age, should have ever seen. Remy had been DeChamp’s plaything until he got bored of her and tossed her aside along with the rest of the girls. Her value dropped among the bidders at the time. The drugs had taken hold by then. She wondered how it had been possible to escape him in her weak and vulnerable state. But she knew it had been the call from Claire. It wasn’t supposed to go through and yet, somehow, Claire had managed to make contact after nearly a year. Remy had only spoken a few words to her sister when the phone was snatched from her hands and a swift backhand connected with her cheek. That was what did it. Claire had been terrified and begged Remy to tell her where she was so she could have the cops come. But there wasn’t enough time to tell her. Nevertheless, Claire saved Remy’s life that day. Something snapped and it changed everything.

The screen on Remy’s phone illuminated in her hands. Her brow knitted as she swiped to answer. “Cole?”

“Remy, listen, I just got the word about Joel Edmunds.”

“That was quick. I lost him. He slipped out from under us and we figured he was headed toward East Texas.” She planted her feet on the floor.

“No, Remy, he’s not. A state trooper pulled over a silver Honda Civic a few hours ago on the highway leading to the Texas border. The officer didn’t know who he had, just that the driver had swerved. The officer gave chase for a short while until finally pulling him over. From what I understand, the passenger door flew open, and the trooper went after him. He caught him, Remy. Edmunds has been in holding for the last hour. Word from your old Baton Rouge office reached the guys near Shreveport.”

“Because the BOLO no longer applied, but we had a description,” she said.

“Exactly. It sounds like you’re home,” Grayson added.

“I am. Got back less than an hour ago.”

“I’m heading your way. I’ll pick you up and we’ll drive back north. Unless you don’t want in on this. Since it’s hit my office . . .”

“No, I want to be there. I’ll see you soon.” Remy ended the call and stared at her phone. “He won’t forgive you if you don’t tell him.” She pressed Alex’s number and waited for him to answer.

“Remy, are you okay?” His gruff voice suggested he’d just been awakened.

“Grayson called. Alex, State Patrol has him — Edmunds. Son of a bitch hitched a ride like we thought. Don’t know exactly what went down, but the driver got pulled over, Edmunds took off on foot, and the trooper caught up to him.”

“Oh my God. They have him?” Alex sounded more alert now.

“Cole . . . Grayson’s on his way to pick me up. We’re heading back to Shreveport. I thought you should know in case . . .”

“I’ll leave now.”

“Alex, you have the family to think about. Grayson and I can handle this. You don’t need to come.”

“I don’t need to, or you don’t want me to?” he asked.

“I’m just saying . . .”

“Remy, I get you’re the lead on this hunt, but I thought we were partners.”

“No, you’re right.” She pressed her hand against her forehead. “You should be there too.”

“Thank you. You can ride with Grayson. I’ll head up there on my own.”

“You don’t have to do that. Just come here. He’ll be a little while. Or we can swing by and pick you up. It’s late and we’ve both been on the road all day. Let Grayson do the heavy lifting. We can sleep on the way up.”

The line was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, okay. Swing by on your way out. I need a shower anyway.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

* * *

Remy was placing her gun in her holster when the doorbell rang. She walked through the narrow entryway of her apartment and opened it to Grayson. “You made good time. Come in.” She closed the door behind him. “I made some coffee. You want a cup to go? Might be a good idea to stay alert at . . .” She checked the time. “Three forty-five in the morning.”

His light blue eyes wrinkled in the corners as he raised his cheeks into a smile. “That would be great. Thanks.”

She started into the kitchen. “Alex will be here soon. I called him after we spoke. He should be in on this too.”

“Whatever you think is best,” he replied.

She grabbed the travel mugs from her cabinet and glanced back at him. “Are you okay? You’re not mad I called Alex, are you?”

“No. Of course not. He’s your partner.” Grayson shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and walked toward her breakfast bar. “It’s just, the senior trooper who brought in Edmunds said something.”

Remy poured the coffee. “I’m listening.”

He rested his forearms on the counter. “According to the trooper, Edmunds said he wasn’t going to let his sister get off scot-free.”

She returned the pot to the burner and fixed her sights on Grayson. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“That’s the 64,000 dollar question, isn’t it?”

“The trooper didn’t ask him, or was he unwilling to elaborate?” Remy continued.

“He won’t talk. Maybe that’ll change when we get there, but I’m starting to think the deal with the sister should be revoked.”

“Shit.” Remy put the lids on the cups. “She got a sweetheart deal to give up her brother. She’s been granted immunity. There’s nothing that we can do about that.”

“Immunity regarding her brother?” Grayson asked.

“Yes.” Remy’s attention was diverted when her phone rang. “It’s Alex. He’s probably wondering where we are.”

“What do you want to do here, Remy? If she thinks we’ll catch up to her brother and she did have a role in this case, chances she’ll stick around in Shreveport are slim and none.”

Remy picked up the phone. “Yeah, Alex. We’re heading your way now.” She nodded. “Got it. See you in a few.” She ended the call and looked again at Grayson. “You think we should ask local PD to pick her up?”

“Until we know what Edmunds was talking about, I think we have to.”

Remy grabbed the cups and handed one to him. “Let’s just get on the road. We’ll get Alex and figure this out on the way up.”

Grayson unlocked his Tahoe and stepped behind the wheel while Remy hopped onto the passenger seat. She buckled her seatbelt and turned to him. “Head south on Muddy River Drive. Alex lives on the north end.”

“Must be nice.” He turned the engine and pulled away. “Does this feel like the world’s longest day for you?”

“It’s been tough, but I’m glad you’re helping us out,” Remy replied.

“You sure about that? You don’t seem all that glad to see me.”

She lowered her gaze. “It’s not because of you. We had him, Cole. We had the son of a bitch and he slipped away. And now his sister has conned us into a deal we can’t back out of.”

“Remy, you’re not the first FAU agent to lose their target. Hell, I’ve lost mine too.”

She pointed ahead. “That’s his house up there.”

“Got it.” Grayson rolled to a stop in front of Alex’s home and Remy jumped out.

She headed to his front door as it opened. “Long time no see.”

Alex stepped out and closed the door behind him “I did think we’d have more than an hour away from each other. Any more news?”

She glanced at him as they returned to the Tahoe. “You could say that.”

* * *

Armed with a US Marshal at their side, Remy and Alex returned to the Shreveport police station where Decker awaited, looking less than enthusiastic about this latest development.

“Good morning.” Decker eyed the Deputy Marshal. “State Patrol transferred custody of Edmunds on your drive up. He’s in holding now. I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Deputy US Marshal Cole Grayson. I was brought in when we thought Edmunds fled to Texas.” He offered his hand. “Good to meet you.”

“Back at you.” Decker returned the handshake. “Well, since y’all are here, let’s figure out where we’re at with Elise Eaton. Sounds like we gave her a deal a little too quickly.”

Remy caught onto the remark and the brief shift in Decker’s gaze toward her. Yeah, this was her screw up and she could own it. But it wasn’t going to throw her off her game. They had Edmunds now and that was a hell of a lot more than they had half a day ago. “Have you gone back to her apartment?”

“Oh yeah. Right after we got the call from Chasse. Her car was gone, and the apartment was emptied of her clothes and personal items.”

“Detective Blake with BRPD found nothing from Elise Eaton inside the home of Joel’s fiancée. No DNA, no prints,” Remy began. “So if she played a part in that murder, then she left nothing behind. We know she got money from her brother, but now he’s insisted he won’t let her get off scot-free.” She glanced at Grayson and Alex. “Then that means we talk to him and ask him how the hell his sister is involved in anything other than collecting insurance money from him.”

“I guess that’s what y’all drove up here for, right?” Decker marched ahead toward the holding cell.

Remy held Alex back a moment. “I thought Decker was on our side. Now he’s lobbing allegations that we jumped the gun and let the sister go?”

“It’s eight o’clock in the morning and none of us has had any sleep. He’s running on fumes just like we are. And he’s pissed this thing landed back in his department. Just let him cool down. I’ll talk to him. Right now, we have bigger fish to fry.”

“Chasse is right,” Grayson added. “Based on what Edmunds said to the trooper, I’ll bet he’ll be ready to rat out anyone, even family. Let’s use that, okay?” He placed his arm around Remy.

She quickly pulled away and darted a glance at Alex. He’d seen it. No one knew about her relationship with Grayson and that was entirely on purpose. Alex had already seen her fall once, and that was for a suspect. Having him believe she was in a relationship with a Deputy US Marshal, well, that wasn’t going to bode well for her credibility.

Decker led Edmunds into the corridor from the holding cell. Remy spotted them emerge and stopped cold. It was the first time she’d seen him in the flesh. He appeared older than the pictures she’d seen in the victim’s home. This was a man who’d lived on the run for so long, it would’ve been easy for him to forget anyone was after him in the first place.

Alex eyed her. “You okay?”

Remy kept her sights fixed on Edmunds and the two locked eyes. “Fine. I’m ready to talk to this guy who smashed in his fiancée’s face.”

Grayson raised his hands. “Throwing in my two cents here. We should maintain focus on how the sister is involved. We already know what Edmunds has done, and he won’t see daylight again. Let’s make sure if she did something, that she’s held accountable too.”

Decker opened the door to the interview room and led Edmunds inside. A moment later, he stepped out and approached the agents. “He’s all yours, but I wouldn’t count on him admitting to anything without a lawyer present. That doesn’t mean he won’t spill on his sister. Good luck and let me know if I can do anything else.”

“Thanks, man.” Alex waited for him to disappear beyond the corridor. “All right. Let’s sit down with him and get what we can.”

Remy was the first to head toward the interview room. After seeing him, after capturing his gaze, she noticed something: subtle, but it was there. Edmunds held fear in his eyes, like he thought this was the end for him. It was — and she would make sure of that. It put them at an advantage.

She opened the door and stepped into the room where she’d spent an hour speaking to this man’s sister earlier the day before. The regrettable choices notwithstanding, the time had come to get the truth from him. “Good morning. I’m LBI Agent Remy Fontaine. We’ve been looking for you, Mr. Edmunds, or should I just call you Mr. Eaton?”

He slumped in the chair and scratched at his stubbled face. “Call me whatever the hell you want.”

Alex walked in behind her followed by Grayson.

“Looks like the gang’s all here.” Edmunds eyed Grayson. “You must be FBI.”

He displayed his badge. “Deputy US Marshal. I’m helping the LBI agents with this investigation.”

“So it seems you’ve been on the run a long time, Mr. Edmunds.” Remy pulled out a chair to sit down.

He shrugged. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s how you’re going to play this?” Alex asked as he pulled up a chair next to Remy. “We know about Orlando. Your wife and daughter.”

Edmunds licked his lips as if preparing to speak, but then seemingly changed his mind.

“We know what you’ve done, Mr. Edmunds,” Remy added. “Now we want to know what role your sister played in helping you. You mentioned to the trooper who brought you in that you weren’t going to let her off. What has she done, Joel?”

* * *

From his hotel room, Eric Calderon peered through the front window. He awaited a file from the Orlando detective — a missing report that had apparently been lost from the original investigation into Jack Eaton and the murder of his family. Tired of being hounded by Eric, the old detective on the case had given in and sent him his notes. Days he’d been going back and forth with the detective and the police, and the culmination was this very moment when the emailed file was slated to arrive.

Eric had refused to go back home because he knew a piece of the puzzle was still missing. Detective Blake couldn’t help him. The other one, Decker, he was of no use. The LBI agents weren’t interested in helping him, so Eric helped himself.

A cup of coffee from the machine in his room sat on the table. Why was hotel coffee just the absolute worst? Could they not get it to taste like anything other than dirty water? Still, he needed the caffeine. He’d hardly slept after hearing Joel Edmunds had been captured near the Texas border and now sat inside the Shreveport police department awaiting booking.

They had him, but there was more to this. And as the notification on his phone sounded, he knew the email had arrived. “Holy shit. Okay, calm down.” Eric returned to the table and opened his laptop to view the email. He swallowed but his throat was too dry, and it made him cough. “Just open it.” He clicked on the email from the retired detective and opened the attachment. His eyes consumed the screen, hurrying through every word until he understood what he read.

His eyes stung with tears. “I knew it. I freakin’ knew it.” He zoomed in on the sentences in the report and re-read them. “I suspected Eaton was tied to another murder in 2009 when my belief was that he was going by the name Jim Edgar. My attempts at getting the department to let me pursue that lead fell on deaf ears. At the end of the day, they knew Jack Eaton killed his family and didn’t care that he could also have been the unknown assailant responsible for the murder of Marie Calderon.” Eric paused to blink the tears away before continuing to read the detective’s words. “I also expressed the opinion that another murderer likely had been present at the deaths of Eaton’s family, and that Jack Eaton had not acted alone. But the captain at the time wore blinders and I was essentially shut out. A fact that haunts me even now.”

Chapter 12

Orlando, 2005

The burst of rain gushed from a quick-moving dark cloud. And just like that, it was gone. A common occurrence in summertime Florida. So when Jack Eaton pulled onto his driveway in his 2000 Mercury Mountaineer, he waited until the downpour passed before stepping out. Moments later, almost like clockwork, the cloud had drifted by and the rain stopped like someone turned off the faucet. He stepped out into the warm, damp air of the late afternoon and walked to his front door, carrier bag in one hand, keys in the other.

Jack inserted the key and stepped inside the quiet home. It approached dinnertime and he wondered if Lori was around. He smelled no food, and he heard no voices, meaning Lori must’ve taken their five-year-old daughter Megan with her, wherever that was. “Lori?” he called out as he continued inside, his dress shoes tapping on the Saltillo tiled floor. “Lori, you home? Megan?” He reached the living room. The TV was off. And as he continued through the home, he noticed the sliding glass door that led to the backyard was open. “Must be outside.” Jack set down his bag on the living room recliner and walked through the door. “Lori, Megan?” The yard wasn’t big. He would’ve easily spotted them had they been out there. “Well, shit.” He retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open, pressing Lori’s contact. With the phone at his ear, he waited for her to answer, except a sound captured his attention and he spun around toward the house again.

With a furrowed brow, he returned inside, hearing a ringing. Then it stopped. It was his call to Lori’s phone and it had gone to voicemail. “Shit.” Jack dialed again and the ringing started again. “Lori, you upstairs?” He grabbed the banister and climbed the steps to the second-floor landing. The phone continued to ring. It came from his bedroom. “Lori?” Jack closed his flip phone and returned it to his pocket while he headed to his bedroom. “What, are you taking a nap? Where’s . . .” From the doorway, he stood frozen. His breath escaped him, and his eyes fixed on her.

Lori lay splayed on the bed. Blood soaked into the yellow quilt outlining her small frame. Her blonde hair was matted with blood and her throat had been sliced open. Her skin was ashen and her lips, blue.

Jack blinked hard as though that would somehow clear his vision and show that what he saw before him wasn’t real. But it didn’t work. Lori was dead. He snapped to attention again and whipped around. “Megan!” He found his feet and hurried to his daughter’s room across the hall. “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.” As he reached the doorway, his hands grasped the frame and stopped him from tumbling inside. Jack’s knees weakened and he collapsed onto them.

There she was, on the floor, propped against the end of her little twin bed with a pink polka-dot cover. “Megan! No!” Jack raised his eyes and wailed in agony. His beautiful little girl. Her perfectly straight black hair. Her big round blue eyes that stared back at him. Her throat sliced from ear to ear.

“Jack?”

A voice sounded behind him and he looked back. “Lori?” Tears clouded his vision.

“It’s me, Jack.”

He wiped his eyes to clear them and turned back again. “Elise?” Jack gripped the door frame and pulled up to his feet. His breath was labored as though he was about to hyperventilate. “What are you doing here? What happened?”

She stepped closer to him. “I’m sorry, Jack. I had to do it. Lori was lying to you. Megan wasn’t even yours.”

His face masked in confusion while tears streamed down his cheeks. “What the hell are you talking about? Why are you here? Jesus, Elise, what are you doing here?” The pain slowly turned to anger. “Did you do this? Did you kill them?” He lumbered toward her, still unsteady — his face grew heated. “Why!” He gripped her shoulders.

Elise easily slipped back. “She was going to tell everyone. I couldn’t let her do that to you.”

Jack’s eyes turned black, his nostrils flared, and he balled up his fists. “I swear to God, I’ll kill you where you stand.”

“Jack, I did this for you. For you and me, okay? You’ll understand that when the pain fades.” Elise stood there a moment longer, glancing at his hands, appearing to know she couldn’t squelch his anger. “The cops are coming. They’re going to think you did this. You’d better run.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He stepped closer. “I’m going to kill you.”

Elise pulled out her knife and sliced him in the arm. “I saved you, Jack. You’ll see that someday.” She ran down the stairs and the door slammed behind her.

Jack grabbed his arm to stem the blood flow and trailed after her, but he heard a car’s tires screech, and on opening the front door, Elise sped away. She had been parked across the street and he never saw the car. “Elise!”

He closed the door again and rushed upstairs to his bedroom. With his hand over his mouth, he stared at his wife’s lifeless body. “No.”

Sirens sounded in the distance and caught his attention. His mouth fell agape, and his eyes widened. “They’ll think I did this.” Jack rushed downstairs again and made his way outside, back to his car. He drove away.

* * *

Remy eyed Alex a moment. “Sounds like a pretty incredible story, doesn’t it?”

Alex frowned and nodded. “Something that I would’ve thought might’ve been useful for the Orlando Police to know back in 2005.”

Edmunds snorted. “I already told you. Elise was going to put it on me anyway.”

Remy folded her arms and cocked her head. “Sorry, I don’t buy it. If you didn’t murder your wife and daughter, and knew for a fact your sister did, why not tell the cops? Evidence would’ve pointed to your innocence. Instead, you took off and stayed on the run until now. Incidentally, we caught you because you murdered your fiancée and another woman. Did your sister kill them too?” She waited for a response, but he only glanced away. “What? No answer for that one? We know you’ve been sending her money. That she was a beneficiary on your fiancée’s life insurance policy. Strange, don’t you think? So what’s the deal between you two, exactly? If she murdered your family, why the hell are you teaming up with her and killing these other women, presumably for their life insurance?”

Edmunds wore a crooked smile and turned back to Remy. “She’ll go to our mother’s house.”

“New Orleans?” Grayson asked.

“Sounds like you’ve already been there,” Edmunds replied.

“I was. Had a nice chat with her. She said you and Elise had a special relationship. It certainly seems special, based on what you’ve said, but somehow, I think your mother implied something else.”

“Adoptive mother,” Edmunds cut in. “She and Bob took me in when I was eight. Bob died ten years ago from a heart attack. Mom’s lived in New Orleans ever since.”

“What does she mean by a ‘special relationship?’” Remy asked. “And does she know what you’ve told us? That Elise killed your family?”

“She knows what Elise wants her to know.”

Alex leaned over the table. “Why are you telling us this? I’m assuming you don’t want to go down for murders you claim you didn’t do, but you still killed two other women. Do you think your sentence would change if you were cleared of murdering your family? What’s your endgame?”

Edmunds set his sights on Alex. “My endgame is to make sure Elise pays for what she’s done. I won’t spend the rest of my life in prison when I know she’s out there, free as a bird.”

* * *

The young reporter arrived at the Shreveport stationhouse and stepped up to the front desk. “Good morning. May I see Captain Decker?”

The officer behind the desk eyed him. “What’s your name?”

“Eric Calderon. Orlando Times.” He displayed his press credentials.

“You’re with the media?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve spoken with the captain before. He’ll remember me. I have something important to tell him about the Edmunds investigation.”

She gave him another once over before picking up the phone. “Captain? There’s an Eric Calderon here from the Orlando Times. Says he has information on Edmunds.” She nodded. “Thank you, sir.” On ending the call, she turned to him again. “He’s coming. Take a seat over there.”

“Thank you.” Eric sat down at a row of chairs inside the lobby. He spotted the captain emerge from the hall and got to his feet again. “Captain Decker.”

“Mr. Calderon, what brings you by this early?”

“I have some new information I think you’ll be interested in.” Eric glanced around. “Is Mr. Edmunds still in your custody?”

Decker placed his hands on his hips. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He smirked and looked away. “Right, okay. Uh, I have something from the original detective back in Orlando. He sent me the notes from his files. You’ll want to see this, Captain.”

“All right. Come on back. Suppose I have nothing better to do, except run my department.” He reached his office and opened the door. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you.” Eric took a seat and opened his carrier bag to retrieve the file. “I printed this out just a little while ago. It was emailed to me by the retired detective.”

“I thought he didn’t have anything more to say on the matter of Jack Eaton or Edmunds, whatever.” Decker moved to his desk.

“Well, turns out, he has something pretty important to say.” Eric handed over the notes. “This wasn’t in the case file. The detective said he got pushback when he broached the topic and was pretty much shut down. I think they wanted to keep the blame on Jack Eaton and be done with it.”

Decker glanced at him with a knitted brow and began to read the report. And when his face changed and his lips parted, Eric knew. “Whether Jack Eaton or Joel Edmunds murdered his fiancée and his family, I can’t say with certainty because I’m not interested in that. But from what the detective says, he’s pretty certain Jack Eaton, who was going by the name Jim Edgar, murdered my mother.”

Decker looked up from the report. “First of all, all this says is that he believed Eaton murdered your mother under an assumed name, so let’s get that straight right now.”

“Fair enough. But why would the department shove it under the rug? If the captain at the time wanted to pin the murders on Eaton, he could’ve still done that but then continued to find proof he killed my mom. Why ignore the detective’s hunch altogether?”

“I don’t know, but I will find out. Listen, you aren’t planning to run with this, are you?” Decker asked. “I need time. You brought it to me, so I’m thinking you’re a reasonable guy and you’ll let us do our job.”

“I want the exclusive. If you can give me that, I’ll sit on this,” Eric replied.

Decker raised his brow. “You sure? If this pans out, it’s your mom we’re talking about. You know the state’s in on this, right? And the US Marshals? I don’t have the kind of power you think I do.”

“Maybe not, sir. But I’ll bet you can talk to whoever does.”

Decker stood. “I’ll get back to you. I assume you’ll be sticking around for a while?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, Captain.”

“You can show yourself out.” Decker stepped out of his office and headed straight for the interview room where the agents still questioned Edmunds. He opened the door. “Chasse, a word?” He nodded toward the hall.

Alex got up and stepped out, closing the door behind him. “What’s up?”

“Take a look at this.” Decker handed over the report. “It’s from the detective on the Orlando investigation.”

Alex read the file and raised his eyes to Decker. “Another murder? And he thinks Eaton didn’t act alone when he killed his family?”

“Not according to that in your hand. I got it from a reporter. Same one’s been sniffing around here for the past few days.”

“He was in Baton Rouge too, talking to Detective Blake,” Alex added.

“Kid says he’ll sit on it for a while. I’m thinking he’s too close to this now, but this is your case, I’ll defer to you.” Decker raised his chin. “How are you going to play this?”

Alex glanced away a moment. “Edmunds just made a similar statement to us, except he says it was his sister who killed his wife and daughter. Came home and found them murdered and Elise claimed she did it for him.”

Decker scoffed. “Jesus. What kind of brother and sister are we talking about here?”

“They aren’t blood, but it doesn’t mean this isn’t creepy as shit, whatever it is.” Alex glanced at the door to the interview room. “So how do we find the sister and what do we do with Edmunds in the meantime? Can we use this other possible murder charge?” He returned his gaze to Decker and knitted his brow. “What?”

“Well, hell, I don’t know,” Decker replied. “If it were me, I might consider using Edmunds as bait. It’s clear there’s a connection between the two in whatever form that takes.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I want to tug on that string, but there may not be a choice,” Alex replied. “I think I get your meaning. Edmunds says his sister will go to their mother’s home in New Orleans. Deputy Marshal Grayson already spoke to her, but that was before all this.”

“Maybe it’s time to head south and poke around,” Decker said. “I’m not sure y’all have much choice in the matter.”

Alex nodded. “Thanks for this, man. I think I know what we have to do.” He pushed inside the room again and returned to his chair.

Remy glanced at him. “Everything all right?”

“Depends.” Alex turned to Edmunds. “You feel like taking a trip?”

* * *

Inside a conference room at the Shreveport police station, the team and Captain Decker sat around the table with a speaker phone in the middle.

Remy leaned toward the phone. “You with us, sir?”

“I’m here. What’s happening up there?” Hubert asked.

She glanced at Alex and Grayson before continuing. “Sir, we’re in receipt of new details regarding our fugitive, Joel Edmunds.”

“I’m listening,” Hubert replied.

“It’s looking like the sister, Elise Eaton, may have been responsible for the murders of her brother’s wife and daughter back in ’05 and that Edmunds likely committed another murder in 2009 in Tallahassee. The original investigator floated the theory but was shot down. And now Edmunds himself claims his sister killed his wife and daughter.”

“Okay. Do you have evidence that points to the sister?” Hubert asked.

“No, sir,” Alex cut in. “But right now, our goal is to find Elise and bring her in. The rest can be sorted out by the Marshals and LBI. We do, however, believe she played a role, we just don’t know what that was.”

“I’m not hearing a plan,” Hubert continued.

“The plan,” Remy said, “is to use Edmunds to draw out Elise. All signs point to the likelihood she’s traveling to New Orleans to pay a visit to her mother.”

“Sir, this is Grayson,” he said. “I’ve been to see this woman already. She did have misgivings about the relationship the two siblings have and have had for some time. I agree with Fontaine and Chasse’s plan to use Edmunds. The Marshals will stand behind y’all on this one.”

A pause sounded on the line for a moment. “Then you best get your asses to New Orleans. Make damn sure you get NOPD involved and the sooner the better. We all know what it’s like working with them.”

“Yes, sir,” Remy replied. “So we’re all in agreement we take Edmunds with us and use him to bring Elise to the forefront?”

“If that’s what it takes, then get it done.”

Chapter 13

Hunting fugitives meant time was never on the side of the FAU agent. So, to consider driving south to New Orleans from Shreveport meant leaving a wide-open window for Elise Eaton to plot out her escape. This entire plan was already a crapshoot. Using the killer to draw out his alleged accomplice seemed a grasp at straws. And they all knew it. But that was what it had come down to.

Grayson rolled up to the facility in his Tahoe. “There it is. Let’s get everyone onboard and head out.” He opened his door. “And the sooner the better.”

Remy stepped out of the passenger side and slung her carrier bag over her shoulder. She pulled open the rear passenger door and Alex climbed out.

“Let’s go, Edmunds. Time to hitch a ride with the Marshals and find your sister.” Alex helped Edmunds, who was still cuffed, out of the SUV. When he’d secured the suspect, he turned to Remy. “You take the lead. We’ll follow.”

She walked ahead and caught up to Grayson as the midday sun warmed her face. “I think I should reach out to NOPD and give them a heads-up.”

Alex moved in, dragging Edmunds alongside him. “I’d rather hold off until we hit town. Giving those guys any advanced notice could be trouble. As far as I’m concerned, they’re on a need-to-know basis.”

“I have to agree with Chasse on this one,” Grayson added. “No point in raising eyebrows just yet. Let’s get him into town and set up shop first and we’ll take it from there.”

* * *

The young reporter looked to make a name for himself. He’d been with the Orlando Times for a few years, and they’d only ever given him local stories like car crashes and the occasional brazen shoplifter. Stuff like that didn’t win a guy a Pulitzer. And the personal aspect in his search for the truth about Jack Eaton and the murder of his mother just might ensure his name was on the shortlist.

The emotional toll would have to be set aside for now. The story had to be seen to its end, and he would continue to follow it. Thanks to Captain Decker, he was about to do just that. Nevertheless, he had no plane to quickly shuttle him south and the drive would take hours. Eric was left with no choice but to make that drive and call on an old college friend who worked at a small paper in New Orleans. Once word got out of Jack Eaton’s arrival in the city, he’d figure out how to find the agents. Yep, that Pulitzer was going to be his and he would dedicate it to his mother.

Hypnotized by the soft droning of tires on the highway, Eric stared out at the road that rushed to meet him and pondered what more he could have done to save her. If only he had been older at the time. If only he had lived with his mother when she met Jim Edgar, who he was now certain was really Jack Eaton. Finding out the truth was what led him to become a reporter in the first place. The cops hadn’t cared. His mom was just another statistic. But not to Eric. And to now be so close to the truth drove him like nothing else ever had. It would all pay off soon enough.

A call rang through on his Bluetooth and pulled him back to the present. The caller ID gave him a moment’s hesitation before he finally answered. “Yes, sir, Mr. Grossman. Eric here.”

“Eric, where the hell are you?”

“Still in Louisiana, chasing the story,” he replied.

“Chasing the story, I see.” Grossman’s audible sigh wasn’t a good sign. “Look, Eric, it’s been days and your job here is suffering. It’s time to pack it in and get back to Orlando. I can’t keep authorizing your per diem.”

“I just need forty-eight hours, Mr. Grossman. I’m heading down to New Orleans now following a lead. The authorities are getting close. They have Jack Eaton in custody.”

“Then why the hell haven’t they charged him?” Grossman asked.

“That’s a good question, sir. One I don’t have an answer for, except that I believe they think there is another.”

“Another what?”

“An accomplice. That’s what I’m working to find out. Can you just give me two more days? That’s all I’m asking for.” Silence persisted on the other end of the line. “Sir?”

“Two days,” Grossman said. “That’s all you get. And you gotta promise me, you’ll have this one in the bag.”

“I promise.”

“Fine. Forty-eight hours. Not a minute more. And one more thing, Eric, you’d better have one hell of a good story.”

Eric tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “You won’t be disappointed. I swear it.”

* * *

Elliot Gainor arrived at Hubert’s office and knocked on the open door. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

Hubert looked up from his computer. “Elliot, come in. Close the door, would you?”

“Sure.” He continued inside and sat down.

Hubert removed his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Listen, I just got off the phone with Remy. She and Alex are headed to New Orleans with Deputy US Marshal Grayson and their fugitive. Long story short, there’s another killer out there and it appears to be the man’s sister. Point being, this case is running hot. She can’t get away.”

“Sir, the parole hearing is in a matter of days. She needs time to practice her statement, prepare for questions from reporters. She goes out there cold?” He shook his head. “Anything could come out of her mouth. You really want to take that chance? And that’s not even the worst of it.”

Hubert raised his hands. “I get it, Elliot. I know what you’re saying. You and the team with CD need to keep going forward under the assumption DeChamp will be released. It’s all you can do. Remy will do what she has to in order to help you to the finish line.”

Gainor raised his brows. “Are you sure about that? You saw the look on her face when I told her what I’ve been working on and what we need her to do.”

“I’m sure she wants to bring about the end of DeChamp. That’s what I’m sure of, Elliot. Now, this entire situation has been a hell of a shock for her. I didn’t expect it either, but here we are. So, she’ll do what’s required of her. And if DeChamp gets out, like we think he will, I want her under protection, you understand me? Her family, her former partner’s family. I won’t put her or anyone she loves at risk.” He drew in a deep breath. “To be honest with you, I’m almost afraid she’ll try to handle the situation on her own.”

“How so?” Gainor asked.

“This man abused her for almost a year. Drugged her, handed her off to be used in whatever way those people saw fit.” He lowered his gaze a moment. “Christ, I can’t even think about all that happened.” Hubert eyed Elliot again. “After all that, I’m not sure she won’t be the one to put an end to him. And if it comes to that, her life is over.”

“I won’t let that happen, sir. I won’t. She’ll be safe. But I need her at the top of her game for this hearing. She comes off weak, afraid, hesitant, the board will see that, and they’ll think twice. That cannot be allowed to happen.”

“She has to see this Edmunds case through. Lives are at stake,” Hubert replied.

“Why not just have Alex and the marshal handle it?” Gainor asked. “I get this is her deal, but she’s not the only FAU agent who can take care of business.”

“You’re right. She’s not.” Hubert pulled up close to his desk and fixed his eyes on Gainor. “But if I pull her right now . . . She already thinks I knew about your investigation when I hired her—”

“But that’s not . . .” Gainor cut in.

“Doesn’t matter, son. That’s what she thinks, and I don’t blame her. Remy Fontaine will lose all trust in me if I yank her from the Edmunds case. And frankly, after what happened with her former partner at State Police?” He frowned and shook his head. “Remy will leave law enforcement altogether. And I don’t know what she’d do without it. I think it’s the only thing Remy has in her life, and I won’t be the one to strip it from her.”

* * *

Grayson peered through the window as they’d just touched down. Once they’d deplaned, it would still be about a thirty-minute drive before they reached the 6th Ward where the adoptive mother of Edmunds and natural mother of Elise Eaton lived. “I wouldn’t recommend driving right up to the woman’s home. If Elise is there, she won’t be after she sees us. We have an advantage now in that she has no idea Edmunds is with us.”

“Lucky you,” Edmunds chimed in.

Grayson shot him a stern glance. “Point being, we need a solid plan of approach, or we’ll be in the same boat we were before we left Shreveport.” He noticed Remy’s far-off stare. “Hey, you with me?”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” she asked.

“A plan, Fontaine,” Grayson continued. “I can make a call and get us into a safe house within the hour. We’ll secure Edmunds and put together a plan to confront Elise at the mother’s home, assuming she’s there.”

She looked at Alex, who nodded his approval. “Yeah, that sounds good. We need a place to hole up and figure this out.”

“On it.” Grayson grabbed his phone. “Agent Ducane, it’s Deputy US Marshal Grayson. How the hell are you, man?”

Remy’s gaze sharpened as she looked at Alex. “Ducane?”

“Shit.” Alex peered over his shoulder and waved at Grayson. He shook his head wildly as Grayson finally took notice and creased his brow.

“Uh, hey, man, I’m going to have to call you back. Yeah, I just need a minute. Thanks, bye.” Grayson ended the call. “What the hell’s going on, Alex?”

“That was FBI Agent Adam Ducane?” he asked.

“Yes. He’s the guy here in New Orleans. He’ll get us a place to set up.”

Remy turned to him. “He can’t know this is for us.”

“What? Why not?”

Alex cocked his head. “Let’s just say we’re alive despite Ducane’s best efforts, you understand? There are things that went down on an old case last year. Ducane nearly cost us everything, nearly cost Remy everything.”

“Well, shit. What the hell happened?” Grayson asked.

Alex glanced at Edmunds, who appeared to be hanging on their every word. “We can explain later, but if you know anyone else at the Bureau besides him, do us a favor and hit them up, would you? Ducane learns where we are, who knows what could happen — to any of us.”

“Fine, okay.” Grayson picked up his phone again. “I have someone else I can reach out to.” With his phone at his ear, Grayson noted Edmunds’ stare. “You got something to say to me?”

“No, sir,” Edmunds replied.

Grayson returned to his call when it was answered. “Yeah, it’s Grayson, hey, man, I could use your help. I need a place near the 6th Ward. You have something that will work?” He listened for a moment. “A day or two, tops. Great. Shoot me the location. Thanks, man. Bye.” He looked at Remy. “I’m getting a location now. It’s nearby.”

Edmunds chuckled under his breath and Remy eyed him as she stepped into the aisle. “We’re the only ones helping you right now, Edmunds. I’d remember that if I were you.”

* * *

As they deplaned, Remy noticed a man who stood in front of an SUV. “Is that our ride?”

“Yep. Right on time.” Grayson reached the man and held out his hand. “Appreciate the wheels. I’ll bring her back safely.”

“You’d better, or you owe me, Grayson.” The man turned on his heel and walked to a waiting car. “Good luck.”

“Let’s load ’em up.” Grayson climbed behind the wheel of the SUV and waited for the others to step inside. He turned the engine and glanced at Remy, who was in the front passenger seat. “You ready?”

“Ready to haul in Elise Eaton and go home? Yeah, I’m ready.”

He pushed the ignition and headed toward the exit.

Several minutes went by without a single word being spoken. Not even Edmunds chimed in. Remy glanced through the sideview mirror at Edmunds and wondered why he would’ve ever gone along with his sister after what she’d done, assuming she believed his story. The insurance money, the other women. And now he wanted to make her pay? Not years ago when she supposedly murdered his family? “Why now?”

Edmunds caught her gaze in the mirror. “Huh?”

“Why do you want Elise to pay now? Because you got caught? How could you have let her get away with killing your own child?”

Edmunds appeared to swallow hard while he averted his gaze, but he refused to answer.

“What kind of relationship do you have with your sister?” Remy pressed on.

“You’re assuming he’s telling the truth,” Alex cut in. “I’m not convinced Elise did anything but sign on to the deaths of a lot of people for what amounted to just some insurance money.”

“You don’t know shit, okay?” Edmunds replied.

From behind the wheel, Grayson pointed ahead. “It’s just down here, the next right.”

Remy peered through the windshield. “Not much around here but a few shuttered buildings. Looks like an old industrial park.”

“It was. I reached out to another Marshal down here. This is what he has available right now. It’ll do. It’s that building there on the far-left side.” He pulled onto the parking lot.

Remy opened the rear door, grabbed Edmunds by the arm, and pulled him out of the backseat. The large man forced her to stumble back for just a moment. “Don’t even think about giving me any trouble. I’m the one with the gun.”

“No, ma’am. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Grayson started ahead, not waiting for the others, and reached the door of the old brick-clad building.

When Remy caught up, she called out to him. “How do we get in?”

Grayson glanced back at her. “Around the side. Hang on. I got this.”

He peered up at the small window near the roofline. Reaching for a nearby ladder on the side of the building just above the raised planter beds, he began to climb. When he’d climbed up to the top and near the window, he reached for a box that appeared to rest on the window frame. Grayson opened the box and the key fell into his hand. “Voilà!”

He climbed back down to return to the others and unlocked the door. “After you.”

Remy and Alex headed inside with Edmunds between them, his hands still zip tied. “Electricity. That’s a good sign.” She continued into a large open space with a concrete floor. Near the far corner was a set up not unlike a living room. An area rug with a sofa and loveseat on it. A television. A small table with four chairs a few feet away. And on her left were four cots. “Bathroom?”

Grayson pointed toward the back of the building. “Just over there. Shower too.”

Alex had a look around and nodded. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

Chapter 14

Kyle DeChamp once had a way with women. As a younger man, before he found himself inside the Elayn Hunt Correctional Center seventy miles northwest of New Orleans, a simple glance often sent a young girl swooning. He had deep blue eyes, dark brown hair, and back in those days, an athletic physique with not an ounce of fat on him. Being behind bars allowed him to keep in shape, but not like his younger years: the years he had Remy Fontaine.

She hadn’t been the only one, of course. There were many others. But she was the one who changed everything for him. Now, fourteen years later, he prepared to face the parole board once again, having been denied twice before. His original thirty-year sentence for human trafficking, kidnapping, blah, blah, blah, had seemed harsh. Not according to his victims. But for a man with no criminal history, at the time, it was considered severe. Nonetheless, he had served it like a man, and he’d grown stronger. Much stronger than he ever believed he could.

He needed the board to grant parole. He’d have to live in a halfway house for a while. That was manageable. Then he’d have to check in with his PO every day during that time. Then it would lessen, and soon, it would be maybe once a week. Yes, it was all manageable, assuming he was granted parole. Only one person was left who stood even a remote chance of changing that — Remy Fontaine. The only remaining victim who wasn’t still strung out on drugs or had fallen off the face of the planet. The fact she was a cop made her all the more credible. A vast change from who she had been with him. The warden had been impressed by her, and she had more skin in this game than she knew. It had been due to her little outburst when she drove all the way to the warden’s home to insist DeChamp be punished for violating their agreement — that he wasn’t to contact her in any way, ever. Well, he broke that agreement. It could have cost him this chance. So all he could do was use what power he had inside this shithole to ensure the board would vote his way, regardless of what Remy voiced on the matter.

Footfalls sounded outside his cell door. DeChamp had been tossed in the hole for a fight he had nothing to do with. They looked for reasons to fuck with him now because they all knew how much power he wielded in this place, and that he was about to get out.

The little door opened, and a tray was shoved through it. “Lunch,” the voice called out.

DeChamp stood from his bed and shuffled in plastic shoes to the door. He leaned down to peer through the door and pushed something back. A folded-up piece of paper. “Thanks.” He took the tray and the door closed again.

DeChamp returned to his bed. Now, it was time to wait. By this time tomorrow, he would know if the deal had been accepted. Then, he wouldn’t have to put all his eggs in one basket.

* * *

Remy had noted the change in Grayson’s attitude from the moment they arrived here. The early evening had come, and the sun would set soon. They needed to make a move before Elise got out ahead of them, if she hadn’t already. “I say we check out the house and see if she’s there. If not, then we know we’ll have to put Edmunds into play.”

Alex stared through a window at the front of the building that overlooked a barren parking lot. “I agree. Grayson, I don’t know how you feel about staying close to home, but this should probably be led by the LBI.”

Grayson eyed Remy in response. “I would agree except for one thing. I know this woman. I’ve spoken to her. She trusts me.”

Edmunds laughed while he sat on one of the cots near the far corner. “Is that what you think? You think Ada Eaton trusts you? I wouldn’t count on it. She trusts no one. Not me, not Elise, and sure as hell not the cops.”

“Alex is right. It should be us,” Remy replied.

Grayson held up his hands in surrender. “All right. It’s your case, Fontaine. You and Chasse do what you need to do.”

He called her Fontaine. Maybe it was because Alex was there, but his tone was cold, and he hadn’t looked at her. But Remy couldn’t worry about that right now. She needed to find Elise Eaton and put an end to this investigation. The rest was up to those who would build the case against the siblings. Their job was to capture the fugitive and Edmunds’ admission was enough for her to run on. “I’ll keep you posted. And the time’s come to let NOPD in on this. I have a contact, so I’ll make the call.” She started toward the door. “Alex?”

“Right behind you.”

Their only form of transport and Remy was about to take it, leaving Grayson behind with a killer. He had plenty of resources and wasn’t a US Marshal for nothing, but he clearly hadn’t been keen on the decision to drive straight to the home without some kind of backup plan in place. There wasn’t time. They’d wasted enough of that. While the Marshals had stepped in to help, this was still an FAU case and Remy felt confident of what needed to be done.

She climbed into the SUV and waited for Alex to enter. “Is it me, or is Grayson pissed we’re leaving him behind?”

Alex buckled his seatbelt. “You picked up on that too, huh? Maybe it was the whole Ducane situation. Not his fault. He doesn’t know what Ducane did.”

“I never told him,” she replied. “Still, he’s not a man who generally lets his emotions get the better of him.”

Alex narrowed his gaze. “Sounds like you know him better than I thought you did.”

She pulled away from the building. “What’s that address again?”

“8870 Bayou Street. Looks to be about fifteen minutes away,” Alex replied. “How do you want to do this? Scope it out and see if Elise is there, or do we just move in and see what happens?”

Remy reached the main road and the SUV’s headlights flickered — dusk had arrived. “We’ll survey the perimeter. Look for cars in the driveway and check out the neighbors to see if we’re going to have our hands full if this thing blows up on us.” She glanced at Alex a moment. “Do you think Grayson was right, given he’s the one who talked to her? Should he be the one leading this?”

Alex kept his sights on the road ahead. “Maybe. But I’ll be honest with you, Remy, this is our case. Grayson’s a good guy, a great Deputy Marshal, but this is our investigation. The Marshals want to keep bailing us out, then what the hell are we here for?”

“You have a point.” Remy turned right. “I think it’s this house on the corner. You want to double-check the address?”

Alex glanced at his phone again. “That’s it. We’re here. Hang back and we’ll approach on foot.”

“Let me make that call to NOPD first. A patrol unit comes by and sees us skulking around, that could cause us a problem. Not to mention, they’ll be pissed to learn this after the fact.”

“Who do you know here?” Alex asked.

“She’s a sergeant now but was a trooper for a short while.” Remy grabbed her phone and made the call. “Edmunds said his mother has lived here for years. You want to pull a background on her while I . . . Yeah, hi. This is LBI Agent Fontaine. I’m looking for Sergeant Delacroix. Is she around? Thanks. I’ll hold.”

Alex reached for his laptop on the floorboard. He logged on to the state-wide database.

“Yeah, I’m here. Thank you.” She waited for the call to transfer. “Sergeant Delacroix, it’s Remy Fontaine.”

“Fontaine? That’s a blast from the past. How are you, kiddo?”

Remy smiled — it had been a long time since anyone had called her that. “Doing all right, thanks for asking. You?”

“Same ol’. What can I do for you? You still with the State Police?”

“Uh, no. I’m with LBI now. Their Fugitive Apprehension Unit.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. Congratulations. To what do I owe the honor of this call?”

“I’m in town with my partner. We’re looking for a suspect allegedly involved in multiple murders, Elise Eaton. We understand her mother lives here.”

“I see. I half expected you to ask for intel on DeChamp. I hear things are getting real with that situation again.”

“That’s not on my plate, but I have heard the same thing,” Remy replied. “This is a courtesy call. We’re at the woman’s house now. Gonna check things out and didn’t want one of your units driving by getting curious.”

“I hear you. I’ll give any units in the area a heads-up to keep their distance. How long you need?” she asked.

“An hour at most. I’m hoping we’ll strike gold and be on our way back to Baton Rouge.”

“Now, you know better than that, Fontaine. Ain’t nothing ever that easy and especially not here.”

Remy laughed. “A girl can dream. Appreciate the cooperation, Sergeant.”

“Any time. We get a bad rap here, but it ain’t like that with all of us.”

“I know. I’ll keep you posted if this goes sideways and we need your help,” Remy said. “Thanks again.”

“You got it. Good luck and keep your head down.” She ended the call.

Remy turned to Alex. “We’re all good for a while. You find anything interesting?”

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, apparently. This woman’s got a rap sheet. Don’t know why I didn’t expect that, but I didn’t. Old stuff. Mostly petty crimes. You think it’s time to check it out?”

Remy craned her neck. “I can’t see the driveway. Can you?”

“Not from here. We’re losing daylight, Remy. We need to do this now.” Alex opened his door and stepped outside.

The neighborhood wasn’t unlike many others in the city. Shotgun homes, low chain link fence around the narrow front yards, mature trees. The proximity to the French Market was obvious as chatter and music traveled through the street.

Remy caught up with Alex and the two carried on toward the home. “Hold up.” She thrust her hand against Alex’s chest.

“What?” he asked.

“Doesn’t Elise drive a Honda?”

“She sure does,” Alex added. “Son of a bitch. We did not get this lucky, did we?”

“Don’t jinx us.” Remy reached for her sidearm. “She has no idea we have her brother. We need to be cautious here.”

“Copy that.” Alex drew his gun and kept it low and close to his hip. “You go around back in case she takes off. I’ll cover the front. We’ll see her if she bolts.”

“Got it.” Remy splintered off from Alex and made her way around the side and toward the back of the long and narrow home. The sun had nearly set and the dusky light made it difficult to see. The yard had several large trees, and the dense branches and surrounding shrubbery made it almost impossible to see if someone was about to run out of the house.

She walked on and reached an unlocked gate at the side of the house. Remy stepped into the backyard. A knock on the front door sounded. It had to be Alex. This was it. They were about to learn whether Elise Eaton was inside.

He was out of her line of sight, and she was out of his. The move was risky, but they both knew what they were doing. She’d been through this scenario enough to have learned from her mistakes.

A porch light burned outside the back door where wooden steps led out to the small yard. “Light’s on. Good sign.” Her pulse quickened and her eyes sharpened. If Alex was inside, she had no idea, and it raised the hairs on her neck.

Remy approached the French door and came upon a rusty screen door in front of it. Bugs swarmed the light above. The neighborhood was quiet, much quieter than she’d expected. She readied her weapon and widened her stance. “Just don’t do anything stupid, Elise.”

* * *

The light on the front porch came on and the main door opened. Alex stood on the other side. “Evening, ma’am. Are you Ada Eaton?”

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Mrs. Eaton, my name is Agent Alex Chasse. Louisiana Bureau of Investigation. I’m going to reach for my badge. Is that okay?” She didn’t speak and only eyed him while he retrieved his credentials. “Ma’am, I’m here about your daughter, Elise. I see her vehicle outside, and I’d like to speak with her, please.”

“You’re not the man I talked to the other day, are you?” she asked.

“No, ma’am. He was a US Marshal, but I am here about a related incident. Your adopted son, Jack Eaton, is in our custody. Your daughter is a person of interest. Please, I need to speak to her.” A door opened and slammed against a wall. Alex whipped around to his right where a shed lay next to the carport. A woman ran out toward the car. “Son of a bitch!” He sprinted toward her. “Elise, stop! LBI. We just need to talk to you.”

Under a darkening sky, Elise ran to her car and pulled open the driver’s door.

“No, no, no!” Alex made it to the car, but she slammed the door shut. He grabbed the handle, yanking it open. His eyes widened and he gasped. With teeth bared, Elise plunged a knife into his side. He clutched his ribs, stumbling back a step. She slammed the door, locking it this time. “Remy!” He called out, wincing in pain. “She’s here! She’s here!”

* * *

Remy heard Alex’s voice. “Oh God.” She ran to the side of the yard where his voice sounded and pushed through the unlocked metal gate. An engine turned as she hurried to the front of the home. “Alex!” In the distance, only shadows moved. She aimed her weapon at the vehicle but the headlights flashed on and burned her eyes. Remy instinctively threw her arm over her face to shield her eyes from the light.

“Over here, Remy! Hurry!”

Alex called to her again, sounding weak, and she blinked hard to clear her vision. A moment later, he yelled out again and the sound of tires squealing filled her ears. She ran to the end of the driveway and aimed her weapon at the car, firing off a shot. It pinged off the steel frame. Another round and the taillight shattered. “Stop!” Remy fired again, but the car was out of range. Her eyes landed on Alex as she returned her gun to her holster. “Alex? Alex, are you okay?”

He lay on the ground, clutching at his ribs, the handle of a knife jutting from them. Remy ran up beside him. “Alex? What happened?” Her gaze landed on the knife. “Oh my God. Okay. Okay, let’s get you back to the car.”

“Go after her, Remy. I’ll be fine,” Alex said. “I’ll call for help. Go before she gets away.”

“She’s already gone, and no way am I leaving you.” She reached for his arm and tried to pull him up. He groaned in pain. The mother peeked out her head and Remy caught sight of her. “Call 911!”

“I’ll be fine. I’m telling you, Remy, Go!” Alex insisted.

“Alex, goddam it, I’m not leaving you.”

“I should’ve seen the knife.”

“How the hell can you see anything out here? You’ll be okay. You’ll be fine.” Remy snatched her phone from her pocket. “LBI Agent Remy Fontaine. I have an agent down. I need an ambulance now!”

* * *

Grayson pushed through the doors of the hospital to find Remy inside the lobby. He rushed to her side. “What the hell happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Alex is fine. He was stabbed in his right side. Doctors say it’ll take him a few days to recover, but that there’s no permanent damage, thank God.” She closed her eyes a moment. “We had her. She was there and then she took off. Alex tried to stop her before she reached her car. He didn’t know she had a knife.”

“You didn’t follow her?” Grayson asked.

“No. I stayed with Alex to make sure he was okay. I wasn’t going to leave him, Cole. No way,” Remy replied.

“I get it.” He pushed his hand through his hair and drew in a deep breath. “I guess we put Plan B into action.”

“Use Edmunds as bait to draw her out.” Remy turned to him. “I think we lost our shot at Plan B. Elise knows we’re after her. She’ll suspect we’re behind it. We’ve lost her. I lost her.”

“Maybe not. She still doesn’t know we have her brother. She thinks he’s holed up in Texas somewhere, so let’s use that. Have him make contact.” He gently gripped her shoulders. “This isn’t over, Remy. We still have a chance to bring her in and determine if she was part of Edmunds’ game.”

“The issue of his culpability is still in question,” she replied. “And the extent of his sister’s involvement. There’s a lot we still don’t know about these murders.”

“I get that, but that’s the detective’s job. The Criminal Division’s job. We hunt fugitives, Remy. She’s now our newest target.”

Remy caught a glimpse of the doctor as he made his approach. “How’s Alex doing, Doc?”

He eyed Cole a moment.

“Uh, this is Deputy US Marshal Cole Grayson. He’s working with us,” Remy added.

“Good to meet you.” The doctor shook Grayson’s hand before returning to Remy. “Alex is awake. He’s alert and doing well, all things considered.”

“That’s great news. When can we get him out of here?” she asked.

“I’m waiting on a few more test results. Just want to be sure there’s no internal bleeding. I’d like to keep him for the rest of the night. He can go home in the morning.”

“Okay. I can live with that. Can I go see him?” Remy asked.

“Of course. I’ll be back to check on him later.” The doctor started away.

“You go,” Grayson said. “I’m sure he’d rather see you than me anyway. I need to get back to the safe house. I’ve got a buddy keeping eyes on Edmunds. Meet you back there?”

“Yeah. I won’t be far behind.” Remy started toward the nurse’s station. “May I go see Mr. Chasse? The doctor said he could accept visitors.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the woman replied. “He’s been moved to room number 145. Just down the hall and to your left.”

“Thank you.” Remy headed back feeling like she’d spent entirely too much time in hospitals since starting this job. Alex had tried to convince her it was an unusual occurrence. It was starting to seem pretty normal now.

She reached the door that was ajar and knocked. “Alex, it’s me.”

“Come in,” he replied.

Remy walked inside. He was propped up in bed, an IV stuck in his hand, an oxygen tube in his nose. He looked vulnerable and she’d never seen him that way before. “Hey. How you feeling?”

“Me? Fine. I wish they’d let me out of here. We have a lot of work still ahead of us.”

She raised her hands. “Just take it easy. You need to rest. Have you called Maggie yet?”

He appeared sheepish. “Not yet.”

“Alex, she deserves to know. Don’t do that to her,” Remy replied. “I can call if you want.”

“No. That’ll only make it worse. I’ll tell her. I was just hoping to get out of here first. She hears I’m still in the hospital, she’ll want to come.”

“I’d offer advice, but I haven’t got a clue as to what you should say, except to be honest with her. She’ll understand. She’s a cop’s wife. So, Doc says he’ll let you out in the morning, pending test results, but says you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah. Still, I should’ve stopped her, Remy. I had the chance, and I blew it. Now what the hell are we going to do?”

She took his hand. “We still have Edmunds. Cole was here to check in on you. I told him to head back after the doctor said he was keeping you overnight. But he says we can still use Edmunds as bait, so that’s what we’ll have to do.”

“That’s what Cole says, huh?” he asked.

She narrowed her gaze a moment. “Yes. We all talked about it if it became necessary, which it has now.”

Alex glanced away a moment. “That it has.” He turned back to her. “Remy, why didn’t you tell me you were seeing him?”

Chapter 15

It was just like Remy to screw things up. Her personal life somehow always seemed to get in the way. It had with Max. It had with David. And now Cole. Alex was right to want the truth. It impacted him; it impacted the case. It was the entire reason why she hadn’t wanted to tell him, but he knew. Alex was like that. They’d grown close and he knew. So her answer? Ignore the question. She refused to acknowledge the truth to her partner, breaking the first rule of law enforcement. Don’t lie to your partner.

Now, as she returned to the safe house, the hour reached eleven p.m. Inside, Grayson waited with a known killer, who was critical to ending this entire shitshow. Relying on a criminal to capture another criminal was never a safe bet, but it was the only bet they had.

Remy knocked on the door. “It’s Remy.” She waited several moments and heard the locks disengage and the door open.

Grayson stood on the other side. “Come in. How’s he doing?” He shut the door behind her.

“He wants out of there,” she replied.

“I’m sure he does.” Grayson glanced ahead toward the makeshift living room near the back corner of the industrial building. “We’ve been having a great old time,” he scoffed.

“I’ll bet. Alex should be released first thing. Gives us a chance to pull together a plan to draw out Elise. What’s he got to say on the matter?”

“Edmunds? He wants her almost as badly as we do. He’ll cooperate,” Grayson replied. “Did you eat? I brought food back for him. There’s some left over in the little fridge over there.”

“I’m okay. I grabbed a bite at the hospital cafeteria.” Remy walked toward the living area. “Your sister did quite a number on my partner.” She eyed Edmunds.

“So I heard. You didn’t think this would be easy, did you, Agent Fontaine?” he asked.

She smiled at him. “Nothing in my life has been easy. I’m used to it by now. The question is, are you committed to helping us find her? She won’t go back to your mother’s. But she doesn’t know we have you.”

“We’re going to need you to make contact with her,” Grayson cut in. “Based on your history, I’m betting you two have a way of reaching out when things go south.”

“If I did, I would’ve done it by now. Like I said, she doesn’t get to ride off into the sunset while I sit behind bars the rest of my life. You should’ve just sent me to Ada’s house, but you went and cowboyed this shit and now look at where you’re at?” He paused. “But I do have an idea where she would go from here.”

“How about we make that happen now?” Grayson said.

Edmunds sat back on the couch. “It’s late and I’m tired. Where am I sleeping? And don’t worry, Elise ain’t leaving town tonight. Not if she thinks the cops are after her.”

“Take one of those cots over there.” Remy pointed toward the back corner of the building. “We’ll take turns keeping watch so don’t think you can slip out.”

Edmunds raised his hands. “Never crossed my mind.” He stood from the sofa and walked toward the cots.

Sheets and blankets lay neatly folded on the top of each cot and a small pillow lay at the head.

“Hey,” Remy called out to him.

Edmunds turned back.

“You never answered me about why you killed those other women.”

A crooked smile appeared on his lips. His jet-black hair had turned greasy after not showering for days. His clothes were grimy. And he stood there, staring at Remy, and scratching at the paunch that hung over his belt. “You think you can get me to confess to murder, Agent Fontaine? I’ve been on the run for seventeen years. I’ve outsmarted the feds, the Marshals. I’ve outsmarted them all. So what makes you think you’re better than all them?” He eyed Grayson. “Better than him?”

Remy returned a caustic grin and placed a hand on her right hip. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

Edmunds chuckled. “Goodnight, Agent Fontaine. Deputy.”

* * *

She tried to sleep, but the image of Alex lying on the driveway, clutching his side and blood on his hands, filled her mind. It was no small reminder of what she’d already gone through with Max. The notion that maybe she ought to reconsider her chosen career crossed her mind more than once. Of course, that would never happen. This job was already in her blood. But she knew her flaws, her weaknesses, could prove detrimental to those around her. Those she worked with. However, in light of the impending parole board hearing, maybe there existed a way for Remy to finally conquer those demons in her past. To finally get over the loss of Max and to truly move on. Whether it would be with Cole, well, it was too soon to know that. He obviously cared for her, but she was uncertain of her own feelings toward him. It was easy to conflate the loss of Max with a need for love. Love or sex, she couldn’t quite be sure. But these were nothing more than distractions, and especially now.

Remy lay on the sofa while Grayson sat up on the loveseat, scrolling through his phone. Somehow, he managed to stay awake. It was as though he had an ear on Edmunds because the slightest shift from that man several feet away made him raise up and take note.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“How’d you know?” she replied.

“I can practically hear the millions of thoughts running through your head right now.” He turned to her. “Remy, you need sleep.”

“So do you,” she replied.

“Well, you won’t be doing either of us any favors if you fall asleep while I’m out cold.”

She sat up on the couch and set her socked feet on the cool concrete floor. “I think the only one of us who’ll be well rested is that guy over there.”

“Probably. So, I was thinking. I could have a word with Alex. Let him know that we’re just casually seeing each other. Nothing that will get in the way of our jobs.”

“You don’t have to do that. If anyone does, it’s me.” She covered her mouth to yawn. “None of that matters right now anyway. What matters is finding Elise Eaton. Finding out if there are more bodies buried. I just don’t get the deal with those two.” She eyed Edmunds. “It’s like this weird cat and mouse thing. What I don’t get is why he laid low for so long, and then with a snap of a finger, he goes off the rails.”

“If I had an answer to that, I wouldn’t be sitting here,” Grayson replied.

Remy’s phone lit up with an incoming call. She squinted at the screen in the dimly lit room and answered. “Sergeant?”

“Remy, where the hell are you?” she asked.

“I’m sitting in a safe house outside the city.” She sat up at attention. “What’s going on?”

“You still looking for that Honda?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“The car was spotted near the French Quarter ten minutes ago. The patrolman saw the driver and she matched the description you gave me. She’s there, Fontaine, and you need to find her before she’s not. I’m going to send you the address of her last known location. Find her so you can get the hell out of my city.”

“I will, Sarge, thank you for the help. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.” She ended the call and looked at Grayson. “Elise was spotted in the French Quarter. It’s only been ten minutes. There’s a chance she’s still in the area. I’m going after her.”

“Alone?” Grayson asked.

“You have Edmunds.” Remy slipped on her shoes. “It’s worth a shot. If I strike out, we still have our Plan B. I have to try, Cole.”

“You can’t do this alone . . .”

“We don’t have a choice.” She swiped the keys from the coffee table. “Stay with him. Alex will be released in a few more hours. He can help when he returns. Besides, I might not be that long.” Remy had started toward the door when Grayson jogged to catch up to her.

“I don’t like this, Remy.”

“We’re down a man. If Alex was here, we’d be doing this together. He’s not and that’s on me. Let me do my job, Cole. You said our relationship wouldn’t get in the way, so prove it.” She opened the door and stepped outside under a clear dark sky.

In the small hours of the night, Remy turned the engine of the borrowed SUV and pulled away from the safe house where a killer remained in custody, with a man, unhappy she had left.

The French Quarter was a place all too familiar to Remy and it would take only minutes to arrive. Just enough time to consider how to approach this. After what had happened to Alex, Remy had taken the sergeant up on her offer for help. She’d asked her to be on the lookout for Elise’s Honda and offered a description of the woman who had slipped away. Delacroix sent over the address to an all-night diner on Decatur. That was where she headed now.

Remy parked along the curb on the adjacent street and stepped out to the loud music and people who still filled the streets, even at three a.m. It hadn’t mattered that it was October. People flocked to the Quarter no matter the time of year.

She checked the address again and headed in the direction of the diner. The last time she was here, she hadn’t known the federal agent who was supposed to protect them was the one who’d tried to kill them. The good news? Her first recollection of being back here didn’t involve DeChamp. Chalk one up for Remy.

“This is it.” She peered up at the sign and opened the door. The scent of maple syrup, bacon, and waffles lingered, along with a hint of coffee. Remy approached the counter and captured the attention of one of the servers. “Excuse me?”

An older woman, maybe in her fifties, slender with a drawn expression, approached her. “What can I get you, miss?”

She held out her badge and then a picture of Elise on her phone. “I understand this woman was in here less than an hour ago. Maybe only forty minutes or so. Do you remember her?”

The woman wore reading glasses on a chain around her neck and slipped them on. “Yeah, I think I remember seeing her in here. Alone.”

“Don’t suppose you happen to know which direction she was headed when she left?”

“Sorry, no. Place is always pretty busy. I ain’t got time for noticing folks much.”

“I understand. Do you have cameras on the exterior?” she asked.

“Course we do. But, uh, only the manager and owner have access to them, and they’re both at home.”

“Damn it.” Remy turned around and peered through the front window of the diner. “Okay, thank you.”

“Sorry I couldn’t help you more,” she replied.

Remy made a beeline to the door and waved her gratitude before heading out into the street. She stood in the middle of the busy area. People swerved to get around her. Two young men approached and asked her to show them her tits. They were lucky she didn’t arrest them. But as she continued to peer up and down that street, it occurred to her. “It’s an easy place to get lost in.” The words came back to her in an instant. It was what Edmunds had said to his coworker when talking about his wedding and where they would go for their honeymoon. “You know she’s here, don’t you?”

Remy picked up her phone. “Cole, it’s time we get Edmunds to tell us where he thinks Elise is because I have a feeling it’s around here somewhere. We aren’t waiting till morning, not when she’s already been spotted in the area.”

“Where are you? Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine. I’m at the diner where Elise was last seen. Then it came to me.”

“What did?”

“What Edmunds’ coworker said when Alex and I interviewed him. He said Edmunds was coming here with his new bride because it was an easy place to get lost in.”

“Okay. I’m not sure I understand where you’re going with this,” Grayson replied.

“Edmunds has been playing us. He had to know we’d check the mother’s house first. But I’m guessing those two already had a plan in place in the event something happened to one or the other, before she left him to rot in our custody.” Remy gazed at the passers-by. “Can you see if he’ll talk now? I don’t want to risk bringing him down here. It’s too chaotic. Too much opportunity for him to slip away. Remind him what he said to his coworker.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

* * *

Grayson ended the call and glanced at Edmunds who remained asleep on the cot several feet away. He stood from the couch and checked his weapon, walking toward him. “Hey, wake up.” He held his gun ready just in case the man didn’t take well to being awakened. “Edmunds, wake up.”

He moaned and turned on his back, opening his eyes to see Grayson hovering over him. He caught sight of the weapon at his side. “What’s going on?”

“We know Elise is in the Quarter. She’s been spotted and we have agents in place there now. It’s time you tell us what you know, Edmunds. Because it’s an easy place to get lost in.”

He rubbed his eyes and sat up on the edge of the bed. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. Now, where’s your sister?”

Chapter 16

The young, eager reporter peeked out from behind the corner of the diner and spotted Remy in the middle of the street. He’d reached town a few hours earlier and kept his ears open, listening to the police scanner. Then it came. NOPD had spotted the Honda and the woman who owned it, Elise Eaton, who was last seen at this diner. As soon as he heard the name, he knew it was connected to Jack Eaton. His hunch was right, though he hadn’t known the LBI agent would be here — he’d expected the local police. Eric had seen her and two others at the Shreveport station as well as talking to that Detective Blake in Baton Rouge. Why the agent was alone concerned him, though.

He watched her end a phone call and remain standing in the street. “What are you doing?” he whispered. She captured his gaze and Eric gasped, taking a step back into the shadows. “Damn it!”

He searched for a place to hide, but if he took off, he would lose her and wherever she was about to lead him. His cover was . . .

“Who the hell are you?” Remy asked.

Eric spun around and jumped at her voice. “What?”

“Who are you and why are you watching me?” she continued.

His mind blanked. The young reporter had completely lost his words. But one thing was clear, if he didn’t answer the woman, he would be in worse trouble than he was right now. “I, uh, I wasn’t watching you.”

She returned a stern gaze. “Really? I know you. You were in Shreveport with Captain Decker. You gave him the notes from the retired detective on the Orlando case.”

Eric rubbed his chin and tried to speak, but all that came out was a squeaky utterance.

“You’re the reporter.” Remy pressed on. “Jesus. How the hell did you find me here? You been following me?”

“No, ma’am. I . . .”

“Bullshit.” She folded her arms. “Why are you here?”

The agent had a few inches on him, and her stony expression reminded him of his old English professor. She wore that very expression whenever he pulled some excuse out of his ass about why his paper was late. “I’m working the story. That’s all, okay? I started looking into this back in Orlando. It led me to Baton Rouge, Shreveport, and now here. I gave the captain what I had to help y’all find the truth. That he killed my mom and maybe he didn’t kill his family alone.”

“What do you know about all that?” Remy asked.

Eric cast down his gaze a moment before raising his chin in an attempt at confidence. “Jack Eaton or Edmunds, he isn’t who you think he is.”

Remy cocked her head. “No? And who do you think he is?”

Eric looked around. “Can we sit down somewhere to talk? I’ll tell you everything I know.”

* * *

Edmunds drew in a long deep breath in what appeared to Grayson as nothing more than a stall tactic. “You need to talk, or I’ll be hauling you back to Baton Rouge where you’ll be arrested on charges of murdering two women. You’re only here because your cooperation was assured by your lawyer. But don’t for one second think I don’t know who you are.”

Edmunds raised his gaze to meet him. “And who am I, Mr. Deputy US Marshal?”

“A killer. Plain and simple. My job is to capture people like you and let the law play out however it will. But since you’re here, it’s time for you to play ball like you said you would. So tell me, Jack, we know your sister’s in the Quarter. Now we need to know where.”

“Can I get a drink of water? I’m thirsty,” he asked.

“After you answer the question. Remember, I’m the one with the gun here. Not you.”

“Are you threatening me, Mr. Marshal?” Edmunds asked.

“No, sir. Just issuing you a reminder, so stop stalling and start talking. We’re wasting time,” Grayson replied.

“All right.” Edmunds pushed up on the cot and leaned his back against the wall. The man’s stomach bulged in a semi-circle, and he laced his fingers together over it. “Elise is most likely staying at the Park House Hotel. That’s where we go when we have to keep our heads down.”

“Like now?” Grayson asked.

“Yeah, like now.”

“Why didn’t you tell us this before? You insisted you wanted her to pay for her part in all this. Why give her a chance to escape when that same chance wasn’t given to you?”

“I didn’t think your lady-friend would fuck up the chance to bring her in when Elise was at Ada’s place. I hope she’s a better lay than she is a cop.”

Heat rose under Grayson’s collar and his fists clenched.

“Oh, you don’t like me insulting your girl, do you? You know, Deputy, I think that other cop has a thing for her, too. You know, the guy Elise shanked.”

Grayson had been through this plenty of times before. He wasn’t going to let Edmunds get to him. Instead, he picked up his phone and waited for Remy to answer. “I know where she’s at.”

* * *

The bar across the street was known for its jazz. Well, a lot of places around here were known for that, but this one was home to a few well-known musicians who played until five in the morning on most nights. Tonight was one of them. And as four a.m. approached, Walker Benoit stumbled out of his favorite night spot after too many shots and a whole lot of music. But it was time to call it a night — the sun was due up in just a couple of hours.

Benoit breathed in the air laced with the scent of booze and a hint of vomit. It was nothing he wasn’t used to. He waited for his Uber to arrive and peered across the street at the diner. A memory sparked in him as he caught sight of the blonde woman sitting in a booth across from some kid. “The hell?” Benoit stumbled off the sidewalk and into the street, staring through the window of the diner. “No way. No way is that you.” He continued through the crowd and made his way over. His long black hair fell into his face, and he quickly pushed it away. He reached the sidewalk that fronted the diner. He squinted through the window and his lips raised into a smile. “Remy Fontaine. Holy shit.”

* * *

From inside the diner, Remy’s attention was drawn to movement outside the window. She spotted a slim man, dark hair, late thirties, maybe early forties.

“You know that guy? He keeps looking at you.”

Remy’s hand instinctively clutched her firearm as she peered through the window again. “No, I have no idea . . .” She stopped mid-sentence when it hit her, and she swallowed hard. “I have no idea who he is.”

Benoit pointed at her and smiled, shaking his head in apparent disbelief.

“He seems to know you,” Eric added.

“Never mind about him. I have to go, kid. We know where Edmunds’ sister is.”

“I want to be there too,” he said.

“No way. It’s too dangerous and I don’t need to be worrying about you. But I promise you, if Edmunds is also Jim Edgar, I’ll make sure the people in charge find out. It’s time to get out of here.” Remy slid out of the booth and dropped a twenty on the table. “Let’s go.”

She started ahead and held the door while Eric slipped outside. He stopped and turned to her, eyeing the man who appeared to be waiting. “You’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m carrying a gun.”

“Right.” Eric started away.

Remy turned to the man, now remembering clearly — Walker Benoit.

He wore a toothy smile as she approached him. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t little Miss Fontaine.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Walker?” she asked.

“And she remembers me. Color me impressed.”

“You’re drunk,” Remy said.

“Holy shit.” He placed his thumbs through the beltloops on his jeans and eyeballed her. “I know Kyle can’t wait to see you. That is a fact.”

“You’re still in contact with him?”

“Hell, yes, I’m still in contact with him. You think he’s just been sitting in prison, where you put him, and don’t talk to nobody? You are sorely mistaken, Remy. Sorely mistaken. And you know he got that hearing coming up.” Benoit snapped his fingers. “I’ll bet you did know that cause they’ll want you to throw in your two cents. What are you gonna say, Remy, huh?”

“I’m not the same girl you knew back then, Walker. If you think I’ll let Kyle come anywhere near me or anyone I know, you’re the one who’s mistaken. The powers that be might let him out of that shithole, but I’ll be just fine. Don’t you worry about that.” Remy had started away when he called out to her again.

“He’ll get out, Remy, best count on it. And when he does . . . he’ll be coming after you.”

She whipped around and saw Benoit turn on his heel and stumble down the street. “I don’t have time for this now.” The sight of the man who had once been responsible for keeping her locked in a bedroom had set her off course. Her mind reeled at his threatening words. Elliot Gainor was wrong to ask her to lie to the parole board, but right now, a woman who had a hand in potentially multiple murders lay in wait at the Park Hotel that was only two blocks away. “Shut it down, Remy. Shut it down and find Elise.”

* * *

Grayson paced the floor of the abandoned industrial building. Edmunds still sat on the cot, and he was alone with this man, knowing full well Remy would be on her way to find Elise Eaton. “I should be there too.”

He wanted to go to Remy and help, but his hands were tied. He needed Alex, but that wasn’t an option either. “Goddam it.” Grayson glanced through a small window into the darkness outside when headlights flashed. “The hell?”

He reached for his weapon and marched toward Edmunds. “No one knows we’re here, goddam it. Are you wired, man? Get up. Get the hell up.”

“What? No, I’m not wired.” Edmunds swatted away Grayson’s hands as he reached out for him. “They patted me down at the police station. Are you crazy? What the hell’s going on?”

“Get up, now!” Grayson demanded.

“All right. Shit.” Edmunds stood from the cot.

“Spread your legs.” Grayson waited for him to widen his stance and patted down his legs, along with the rest of his body. “Open your shirt.”

Edmunds face turned deadpan.

“I said, open your goddam shirt.” He clutched his weapon. “Do it.”

“You’re crazy, man.” Edmunds unbuttoned his shirt and opened it to expose his plump belly and hairy chest. “You happy? I told you, I’m not wired.”

“Then who the hell is outside?” Grayson returned to the door and kept his gun at his side. He heard the vehicle’s engine cut, and on glancing through the window, the lights were off too. He gripped the door handle and waited. Who knew how many approached? Whether they were armed? Whether they were friend or foe? And it was just him. A US Marshal with his fugitive. “Christ.” What was worse was that no one knew where Remy was right now except for him.

“Remy? Grayson?” A voice called out on the other side of the door. “Deputy Marshal Grayson, it’s Alex Chasse.”

“What the?” Grayson unlocked the door and opened it. “Chasse? You’re supposed to be in the hospital.”

“I got out. I’m fine and I need to be here. Where’s Remy? There’s no car outside.”

He closed the door behind Alex. “She’s in the Quarter. And she’s alone.”

* * *

The Park Hotel came into view. A narrow, four-story, boutique hotel with ornate iron railing and a balcony that stretched around every floor.

Remy felt her phone vibrate and retrieved it to answer the call. “I’m standing outside the hotel now . . .”

“Remy, Alex is here,” Grayson cut in.

“What? He’s supposed to be in the hospital.”

“Yeah, well, listen, don’t make a move until I get there. Alex is going to keep watch over Edmunds. He’s in no shape to run after anyone, but he can hold a gun. So, I’m heading your way.”

“I got this, Cole, you don’t need to . . .”

“You’re not going in alone. That’s not how we do things. Alex got a car from NOPD and I’m in it now. I’m less than ten minutes out. Stay there.” He ended the call.

“Shit.” Remy returned her phone to her pocket. She knew he was right but leaving Alex alone with Edmunds was a risk. Alex was smart, but he was injured. Edmunds might try to take advantage of that. And while this was still her investigation, she felt compelled to wait for Grayson. Had she not been in a relationship with him, would she still have felt that way?

Remy surveyed the street and the hotel. Only one or two lights shone through the windows, and she had no idea which room Elise Eaton was in. Although, given that a BOLO was issued for her car, it was reasonable to expect cooperation from the proprietor inside.

She considered what Walker Benoit had said. No matter how hard she tried to push it to the back of her mind, his words haunted her. If DeChamp was released, he would come for her. Elliot Gainor had to know that. What was his real plan, and did it involve Remy to an even greater extent than he let on? It appeared he and Hubert were ready to play Russian roulette with her life. She sighed. Maybe that wasn’t a fair assessment, but that was sure as hell how it felt in light of seeing Walker again.

She spotted Grayson appear from around the street corner ahead. She waited until he drew near. “How did he look?”

“Alex?” Grayson continued his approach. “He looked all right. I wouldn’t have left him alone if I didn’t think he could handle it. The man’s still a senior FAU agent. Give him some credit.”

“I know, it’s just . . .”

“He’s your partner. I get it.” Grayson peered at the hotel ahead. “Are we ready to go inside? And are we sure Elise Eaton is here?”

Chapter 17

A tinge of daylight brightened the sky as the stars slowly disappeared. A bright half-moon still shone, and the air warmed. It was time to get their fugitive, assuming Edmunds had told them the truth. Grayson’s question hung in the air.

“There’s only one way to find out if she’s inside.” Remy turned to him. “Because if Edmunds lied to us again? I’ll make sure he doesn’t stand a chance at trial.”

“Then let’s go in and see what we’re dealing with.” Grayson gestured for Remy to take the lead.

She opened the door to a narrow entryway. Dark paneled walls, a checkered-tiled floor, and an ornate staircase a few feet away. To the right was a reception desk that spanned the length of the narrow room. A woman sat behind the desk, engrossed in whatever appeared on her phone. It took a moment for her to realize guests had entered.

Remy walked up to the desk with her badge in hand. “Good morning. LBI Agent Fontaine. This is Deputy US Marshal Grayson. We’re looking for someone and we believe she’s here.”

The young woman’s face slowly twisted in confusion as though she was high, or extremely tired, or maybe she didn’t speak a lick of English.

“Elise Eaton.” Remy held up the photo. “Have you seen her here?”

The woman leaned over the counter and examined it. “I see a lot of faces come through here. Can’t say I recognize her, but I can check the computer for the name. Hang on.” She turned to her keyboard and typed in the name. A few moments passed before she nodded and set her sights to Remy again. “First of all, is this person dangerous?”

“Probably,” Remy replied. “Is she here? There’s a warrant out for her arrest. You’re not in violation of privacy laws by disclosing the truth.”

While the same laws applied to homes as hotels regarding warrants, the possibility of a criminal escaping gave Remy probable cause to enter the room. She’d already made a bad decision once in her career. She wouldn’t make another. This was going down by the book.

“Then I guess, yeah, she’s here. Room 316.”

“Third floor.” Grayson turned his attention to the woman. “Is there a fire exit near her room? Stairs or an elevator?”

“Uh, yes, sir. This is a small hotel. The stairs are at the end of the hall on that side of the building. Only feet from the rooms.”

He looked at Remy. “We’ll take the stairs.”

She held out her hand. “May I have the key?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The woman handed over the card key. “I got full occupancy tonight. There won’t be any trouble, right? No guns or nothing?”

“We’ll do our best.” Remy started toward the emergency stairs and waited at the door for Grayson to catch up. “Okay, we’ll do this as quietly as possible, but she’s already stabbed Alex. She could’ve gotten herself a gun. We need to be prepared.”

“I’m ready.”

Remy headed up the stairs with her gun in hand. Dim emergency lights shone down on the steps, but it was otherwise dark. “I’d hate to get down these steps during a fire. Can’t see shit in here.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking this isn’t to code. You okay?” he asked.

She stopped and looked down at him on the lower step. “I’m fine. I’ve done this before.”

“That’s not what I meant . . .”

“I know what you meant.” Remy reached the third floor and gently pushed open the door. The squeaky hinges echoed throughout the hall, and she cringed.

They stepped into the tight corridor with doors on either side. Remy eyed the number on the first door. “301. She’ll be near the end on the right.”

Grayson was close behind with his gun aimed at the floor. They made a straight path toward the end of the hall. “This is it. Key?” he whispered.

Remy stood at the door with the key card in her hand. This was always the most dangerous part of the job. Not knowing who or what lay behind a door. Both of their lives were in her hands, and she couldn’t afford any mistakes.

She raised the keycard and pressed it against the reader until the door clicked and a green light flashed. She looked at Grayson and nodded before turning the handle.

He touched her shoulder and held up his gun, mouthing “be ready.”

Remy raised her weapon as she pushed the door open into the unknown. The room smelled of stale smoke and musty air. It was pitch black with the curtains drawn. Her eyes widened to pull in any ambient light, but she struggled to adjust her vision. She felt Cole’s breath on her neck. He was too close.

Remy’s pulse quickened as she raised her weapon. Ahead of her were two double beds. “Elise Eaton. LBI and US Marshals. Get up slowly, Eaton. You’re under arrest. Cooperate and no one will get hurt.” The bed nearest the window appeared to have a lump beneath. That had to be her. But it would be foolish to think the woman still slept through this. “Elise, I need you to get up slowly. Now.”

“I’m turning on a light.” Grayson reached for the wall and found the switch. The entry light flickered on.

“Jesus.” Remy found another switch and turned on the lights above. “Oh my God.”

Grayson reached out for her. “Don’t move. You might contaminate the scene.” He picked up the phone. “I’ll call NOPD now.”

Remy’s eyes were drawn to the wall behind the bed. She thrust her hand over her mouth as she read the bloody words painted above the headboard where the mutilated body of Elise Eaton lay. “I am more powerful.”

* * *

Remy stood in the hall with one foot pressed against the wall behind her. The floor had been evacuated and the New Orleans Police Department swarmed the area. She had no idea of the time except for a sliver of sun that scattered through a stained-glass window near the ceiling at the end of the hall. Morning had arrived.

Grayson stepped out of the room and approached her. “How you holding up?”

She shrugged. “Elise Eaton stabbed Alex. Probably killed others. I guess I’m not feeling too badly for her.”

He shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “That’s not what I’m . . .”

“Remy!” Alex jogged to catch up to them.

She glanced into the corridor. “Where’s Edmunds?”

“Marshal’s office has him in custody.” He turned to Grayson. “Thanks for calling them out. I would’ve been stuck out there otherwise.” He looked again at Remy. “What the hell happened?”

“He got to her, Alex.” Remy stared out toward the room. “I don’t know how, but he got to her.”

“Who? Her brother?” Grayson asked. “That’s impossible.”

Alex’s face softened as he regarded Remy. “You don’t know that.”

“Go in there and you tell me what you think,” Remy said. “Read the literal writing on the wall.”

Alex narrowed his gaze and stepped into the room where several officers gathered evidence and snapped photos. Remy stood in the doorway, watching. He looked at the wall and closed his eyes. “Damn.” Alex moved back into the hall.

“You believe me now?” Remy asked.

“It’s impossible. He couldn’t have known,” Alex replied.

Grayson shot a glance between them and planted his hands on his hips. “Okay, does someone want to tell me what the hell you two are talking about?”

Alex turned to her. “He doesn’t know?”

She shook her head.

“Know what?” Grayson continued.

Remy pushed off the wall and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “A man is about to go before the parole board at the Elayn Hunt Prison.”

“The one northwest of here?” Grayson asked.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Next week. He’s going to be let out,” she replied.

“Did you put him there when you were a state cop?” Grayson pressed on.

“No. I put him there when I was about eighteen years old.” Remy glanced at Alex, who nodded for her to continue. “I won’t bother you with the details, but suffice it to say, once this man is out, he’ll come for me.”

“And how do you know for sure he’s involved with what’s inside that room? How would that even have been possible?”

“That part, I couldn’t tell you, except that his reach is far, and he’s had his thumb on this city for a long time. You ask how I know?” Remy pointed to the room. “Because he told me those exact words on that wall in there. That’s how I know.”

* * *

The diner where Remy had been hours earlier with Eric Calderon was where she was set to meet with Hubert and team member, Elliot Gainor. Alex sat next to her, and Grayson sat across from them in the booth.

She sipped on her third cup of coffee. The jitters had set in. “You should go home, Alex. You need to rest. Maggie is probably beside herself with worry right now.”

“She’s okay. I talked to her. And I already told you that I’m fine. I’m not leaving you here to deal with this alone.” He set his sights on Grayson. “Do you plan on taking Edmunds back to Baton Rouge?”

“He’ll be transported by our office here. I’ll stick around a while.”

Remy peered through the window. “Both of you have jobs to do. This doesn’t involve either of you. This is about me and Elliot and his investigation.” She turned back to Grayson. “I can handle this on my own. I’d prefer it that way.”

The door to the diner opened and SAC Hubert alongside Agent Elliot Gainor entered. Hubert approached them. “Alex, I figured you’d be heading back home. You’re injured and should be resting.”

“That’s what I told him,” Remy replied.

“I’m fine, sir.”

“And Grayson, I’m sure the Marshal’s office has better things planned for you. As far as we’re concerned, the hunt for the Eaton clan is over. The rest is up to the prosecution.”

“Like I told Fontaine, I’ll stick around for a while longer just in case,” he replied.

“Well, suit yourself. But the three of us have things to go over, so I’d appreciate if you two could slip away and give us some time to get up to speed,” Hubert replied.

Alex slid out of the booth. “Whatever you say, sir.”

Grayson appeared reluctant but stepped out as he eyed Remy. “Give me a shout when you’re finished.”

She nodded. Gainor and Hubert slipped into the booth across from her. “I guess this got your attention, huh?”

“How the hell did this happen?” Gainor asked. “How would he have known anything about what you were working right now? Have you talked to him, Remy?”

She pulled back in surprise. “Me? No. I have no idea how he found out I was here or that I was looking for Elise Eaton.”

“But you know for a fact that message was directed at you?” Hubert asked.

“It would be one hell of a coincidence if it wasn’t.” Remy glanced away a moment. “It makes sense to me now, that I saw him.”

“Saw who?” Gainor asked.

She turned to him. “Walker Benoit. I saw him around three this morning. Maybe just before three. I should say, he saw me right here inside this restaurant when I was talking to the reporter.”

“Reporter?” Hubert asked.

Remy raised her hands. “It was about the Eaton case.” She sipped again on her coffee. “Point is, Benoit spotted me. I have no idea where he came from. But when I went out into the street, I sent the kid away and he came up to me. Said Kyle was looking forward to seeing me again and that he would come for me.”

“I know of him — Walker Benoit,” Gainor added.

“Is he dangerous?” Hubert asked.

“Anyone associated with DeChamp is dangerous,” Gainor replied. “So, we’ve got ourselves a messy situation here. A dead woman. A woman Remy was after. And a vague threat.”

“And you want me to make sure this man gets out of prison?” Remy scoffed and looked away.

“I think we’re well beyond you making a statement to the parole board now, Remy,” Hubert said. “This is serious, and we need Elliot to brief you on the status of his investigation to date. Because here’s the thing. If this has anything to do with DeChamp, then he’s testing the water. He wants to know how far he can push you until you fold.”

Gainor cleared his throat. “I think it’s more than that, sir. Remy’s the lynchpin. He knows something smells bad.”

“He knows about you and the investigation?” Remy asked.

“I don’t know how else he could’ve done what you say he’s done. So it’s safe to assume he’s made the connection between you and me. With the people he has in his pocket, that doesn’t come as too much of a surprise. So the question is, how far is he willing to go to get back at you?”

* * *

Remy returned to the safe house where Grayson and Alex waited. She entered the building and eyed them sitting on opposite ends of the sofa, scrolling through their phones. “Alex, why haven’t you left yet?”

“Maggie doesn’t want me to drive myself, so Hubert’s taking me back with him.”

Grayson stood from the sofa. “What happened with the two of them?”

“I’ll be staying here with Elliot for a while. He has a team in place here. They’ll brief me on their investigation, and we’ll try to figure out DeChamp’s next move.”

“Why do you have to be part of that?” he asked.

“Because DeChamp made me part of it. He ended our investigation in order to keep me here. That much is pretty clear to me now. So, I guess I’m in on it too.” She sat down on the loveseat across from them. “That means you don’t need to stay either, Cole. Elliot has this joint task force, and it involves the FBI, NOPD, and LBI’s Criminal Division.”

“And now FAU,” Alex added.

“Yeah,” Remy replied.

A car rolled up to the building and Grayson peered out. “Who the hell is that?”

Alex glanced outside. “I’ll bet that’s my ride.” He carefully pulled up from the couch. “I can stick around, Remy. I feel like I’m abandoning you.”

She stood to join him. “You’re not. I promise. I’d much rather you go home to your family and take a few days to heal. You’d tell me the exact same thing.”

“You know me well.” He grabbed his laptop bag. “Call me if you need anything. Anything at all, Remy.”

“I will. I’m sorry you got hurt, Alex. I hope Maggie isn’t pissed at me.” She pulled him into a gentle embrace.

“She knows the deal. It’s not your fault.” He turned back to Grayson. “Thanks for your help with this, man. As always, you came through.”

“Well, didn’t do us a lot of good, did it?”

“You did what you could and that’s all that matters.” Alex looked at Remy. “I’ll leave you two alone now. I still have the Edmunds case to finalize.”

Remy watched him enter the car and pull away. “Guess it’s no secret now — the two of us.”

Grayson stood and walked behind her as she peered through the window. “What do you expect? Alex is good at his job and good at calling bullshit.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t want to leave you here, Remy.”

She turned around. “I know you don’t, and to be honest, I don’t want to be here. But it’s time I put DeChamp in the rearview once and for all. He’s been a part of my life in some form for so many years. And I knew this day would come. The only way to have prevented it was for me to have killed him, but I didn’t do that.”

“What did he do to you?” Grayson asked.

She looked down. “It’s a long and painful story that I’m just not ready to share.”

“Does Alex know?” he asked.

“Yes. Alex is my partner, my teammate. We’re close, Cole. It’s a closeness I haven’t felt since my last partner died right in front of me.”

“But we’re not that close, are we?” he continued.

Remy placed her hand on his cheek. “I care about you a lot, you know that.”

“Care? Right.” He pulled away.

“You were the one who said you didn’t get involved with people you worked with.”

“But despite my best efforts, I fell in love with you.”

She closed her eyes. It was too hard to imagine truly loving anyone after Max. Remy had cared about David too and look where that had gotten her. But she couldn’t hurt Cole. He was a good man, despite his rough edges. So Remy did the only thing she knew how to.

Raising onto her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her lips touched his and he pulled her against him. Remy felt fear in his kiss. As though he was afraid he might lose her. He pressed harder against her and guided her to the couch, gently laying her down.

She pulled off her shirt and bra while Cole raised his shirt over his head. He unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down. Her breasts exposed, Cole kissed them, and sent a shiver down her arms and back. His hand slid down her hip and wrapped under her bottom, clenching her cheek as he slipped inside her.

His strong and gentle thrusts only made her desire him more. This time was different from the others. Cole had said he loved her. Maybe he truly feared what awaited her with finally putting an end to DeChamp. A fear that compelled him to admit his true feelings, no matter the repercussions. Something Remy never had the courage to do. Her solution lay in physical expression, but never emotional ones. She wondered after they’d made love, could she tell him? Did she love him? Was this just a way to placate him, to keep him at her side, yet at arm’s length? And if so, was that fair?

Chapter 18

The heat of the day, even this late in the fall, sent the temperature inside the safe house soaring. The air conditioner wasn’t working and as Remy stood to pull up her pants, sweat dripped down her neck onto the collar of her T-shirt. “I have to go, and so do you.” She turned to Grayson, who slipped on his shoes.

“When are you supposed to meet back up with Gainor?”

She checked the time. “In about an hour. He’ll introduce me to the rest of the task force, and I’ll be fully briefed on our next steps.”

“What about that reporter?” he continued. “Are you going to tell him what happened?”

“Yes. He’s got information the Marshals will want, Cole. Listen to him. I think there are more bodies out there you can tie to Edmunds. I’m just sorry I can’t see this one through.”

“Alex can fill in while you’re here. I’ll coordinate our efforts.” Grayson stood from the sofa and clutched her arms. He leaned down to kiss her neck. “Just promise me you’ll stay alert.”

“You know I will. I don’t know what the plan is or how long I’m supposed to stay here. The hearing is in a few days, so I’ll have to see how this goes. Keep me posted on Edmunds and I’ll do the same.”

“You got it. We should go. I have to lock this place up again.”

“Right.” Remy grabbed her bag and hoisted the strap over her shoulder. She stepped outside under a bright sky. No sleep and way too much caffeine brought a slight wave of nausea as she breathed in the heavy warm air.

Grayson pressed the remote to unlock the SUV and waited for Remy to step inside. “You said the FBI field office?”

“Yeah. It’s about twenty minutes if traffic’s light.” She buckled her belt as he drove away.

It was the longest twenty minutes of her life. She said nothing. Grayson said nothing. What was there left to say, anyway? He had told her he loved her, and she hadn’t said it back. Instead opting to use her body to shut down the topic altogether. They both knew it. So when she arrived at the FBI field office to meet with Gainor, she opened her door and turned to him.

“I’ll talk to you later, Remy. Stay safe,” he said.

“Right. You too.” She stepped out of the SUV and closed the door. He pulled out onto the road again and she unleashed a heavy sigh. “Way to screw that up too, Remy.”

It was time to meet Gainor and the others involved in this task force where she would be briefed on an investigation she hadn’t known existed until recently. An investigation involving the man who’d abused her for the better part of a year. And not only her, several young women. It seemed Remy was the last to the party after having received the invitation a little too late.

She turned and gazed at the building. In the entirety of her law enforcement career, she could count on one hand how many times she’d had to work with the Bureau. In the back of her mind, she still wondered about Hubert and his decision to recruit her. Remy respected the hell out of him, but if he’d lied to her, well, that couldn’t be forgiven. She walked inside to find metal detectors in the lobby.

A guard stood near the machines. “Morning, ma’am, if you’ll remove your weapons belt and carrier bag. Place everything inside the tray.”

“Yes, sir.” She complied with the request and walked through, holding up her arms as they waved their wand over her body.

“You’re clear. Go on through. Oh, you’ll need to leave the weapon,” the officer said.

She was about to say something when Gainor approached.

“She’s with me. She can take her gun.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied.

“Thanks.” Remy strapped the holster around her chest and grabbed her bag before looking at Gainor. “Well, I’m here. Now what?”

“The task force is waiting for you. Come on back.” Gainor started ahead. “I’m really sorry about all this, Remy. It’s not how I would’ve preferred to get acquainted.”

“What I don’t understand is why Hubert didn’t tell me in the first place. You work for him, don’t you?”

He stopped and turned back to her. “I do. I am an FAU agent. But this was a case I worked before I transferred, and things started happening and CD asked me to finish it. That’s why I haven’t been with the rest of the team since. And the only reason I came to Hubert was because of you. Because I learned about your involvement and that you worked for FAU. And then the hearing. It’s not Hubert’s fault, Remy. I promise you. He didn’t know. Look, I just want to get back with my team. With all you guys at FAU. There was a reason I transferred out of CD. But I’m here now and so are you.”

“So we have to push through.” Remy nodded. “I get it. I’m in this now, so I’ll do what I have to do to get back to FAU as well.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He continued down the hall and opened a door. Inside was a large conference table with several people sitting around it. “Our guest of honor has arrived.”

Okay, that was a bit much. Sounded like everyone already knew all about her. “Great,” she whispered and stepped into the room. “Afternoon. I’m FAU Agent Remy Fontaine.”

Gainor closed the door behind them and led her to a chair next to his. “Why don’t we go around the room and let everyone introduce themselves and their role on this task force?”

Remy listened while those who knew nothing about her spoke about themselves and about this investigation as though it had been their entire lives. Maybe it had been, but it had definitely been hers. She wondered where all these people were when she put DeChamp behind bars the first time and how he’d been allowed to spread his tentacles throughout the city to grow even stronger than before. Even going so far as to murder one of her fugitives somehow. “Thank you and it’s nice to meet you all. I should start by saying that I know Kyle DeChamp better than most. I know what he’s capable of, and if he has someone at the helm, if and when the parole board grants him parole and releases him, he’ll not only go after the person he put in charge, but he’ll also come after me, and everyone I’ve ever loved.” She looked around at their surprised expressions. “So, I’d like to know what the hell y’all are planning to do to stop him before he does.”

* * *

Deep-throated chatter echoed inside the prison cafeteria while Kyle DeChamp sat hunched over a table and scraped the last bit of orange Jell-O from the plastic cup. From the corner of his eye, he spotted his man sit down next to him. “So?”

The guy scratched at his tattooed neck and spied his surroundings. “The agent’s still in New Orleans. Benoit made contact.”

“And the bait?” DeChamp asked.

“Dead. Like you wanted.”

A hint of a grin showed on DeChamp’s face, but quickly faded. “Looks like the guard did his job.” He grabbed the hard roll from his tray and handed it to the man. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Yes, sir.” He stood from the table and walked away.

DeChamp raised his gaze and surveyed the cafeteria. It had cost him money and favors to make it happen, but she was in his sights again. No need to worry about her statement to the board any longer. He was getting out and he’d just made sure of it.

One of the guards approached him. “Inmate, you have a visitor.”

DeChamp furrowed his brow. “Now?”

“On your feet, inmate.”

Restrained anger masked his face, though he was careful not to let the guard see it. DeChamp stood from the table and turned around. “Yes, sir.”

The guard grabbed him by the arm and led him into the wide, stark-white corridor where echoes sounded from closing doors behind them. To have a visitor outside of regular hours was highly unusual and so DeChamp’s head spun with the notion of who awaited him and why.

The guard pressed an intercom button. “Inmate 183479.”

A loud clatter sounded as the bars unlocked and the gate rolled open. The guard led him to another door and waited for the lock to disengage. Through the small window, DeChamp peered inside. No other inmates or visitors could be seen. His instincts kicked in. Was this a hit?

“Get in.” The guard opened the door and led him through. “You have ten minutes, inmate.” He stepped back out and the door slammed behind him, the lock engaged.

DeChamp stood inside, still cuffed, and scanned the room filled with tables and chairs. That was when he spotted him. A crooked smile appeared on his lips as he shuffled to the table in the corner. “How’d you manage this, Ducane?”

“Does it matter?” FBI Agent Adam Ducane was seated at the table. “Fontaine’s been pulled into the investigation. They’ll use her to get to you. To help get you out.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” DeChamp replied.

“Okay. How about the state agents are going to let your people cannibalize themselves. From the top down. They’ll do nothing to stop it. And when you’re the last one standing, they’ll find a way to take you down too. You won’t be coming back here, DeChamp. So, I’m here to make sure these rogue LBI agents don’t get what they want.”

“Which is?” DeChamp asked.

“Your head on a platter and a feather in their cap for finally bringing down your organization.”

“And why are you helping me, Agent Ducane?” He pressed on. “What’s in this for you?”

Ducane shrugged. “Can’t let these state folks think they run things down here.”

“Is that all?” He pulled back and crossed his arms. “Here I thought it had to do with Agent Remy Fontaine. Something about how she got one of your informants killed a while back. Seems a pretty drastic step to do what you’re doing.”

“What’s it to you? You got a thing for Fontaine? She was your girlfriend a long time ago, isn’t that right? And she was the one who put you here.”

DeChamp nodded. “Yep, she put the final nail in the coffin.” He leaned over the table and eyed Ducane. “Remy’s mine, so if anyone’s going to take care of her, it’ll be me.”

* * *

Alex returned to the FAU office in Baton Rouge, still nursing his wound. Hubert stepped out of his office to find him in the bullpen. “Alex, what the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at home, recovering.”

“I’m fine, sir. Really. This case still has a lot of moving parts. We’ve got Edmunds in custody. Marshals are going to need everything we have on the case.”

Kevin Ketner and Pete Milner were huddled near Ketner’s desk when Kevin spoke up. “Alex, he’s right. Listen, Pete and I can pick up the slack if you need us to. At least until you’ve gotten your feet under you again.”

“I appreciate that, Kevin, but I want to be sure nothing slips through the cracks,” Alex replied. “The sooner the better so I can get back down to New Orleans and help out Remy.”

“She’s with Gainor and she knows what she’s doing,” Hubert replied.

“With due respect, sir,” Alex began. “She never should’ve been pulled into that situation. A man who held her captive when she was still a teenager? Kept her drugged and basically enslaved? Pardon, but throwing her back into that situation seems like the worst thing anyone could do to her.”

Hubert cast down his gaze a moment and rubbed his chin. “Well, I suppose you could be right, except that all she’s ever wanted was for Kyle DeChamp to pay for what he’s done, not only to her, but to everyone.”

Alex suddenly realized only Hubert and he were privy to this news and now Kevin and Pete looked on with surprise. “Look, I’m the one who’s worked with Remy for most of this past year. She’s had to overcome the loss of her partner and now she’s being thrust back into the single most traumatic event in her life. I’ll be honest with you, it’s going to be tough to pull her out of this. You might be right. Remy’s sole purpose could be to stop DeChamp. But at what cost?” Alex started away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to be sure our fugitive is cooperating.”

* * *

Remy checked into her hotel near the Quarter. Suddenly, in the span of a day, her entire world had turned on end. It wasn’t the first time. It likely wouldn’t be the last. The best she could hope for was that all of this would finally mean the end of Kyle DeChamp.

She was alone. Alex was back in Baton Rouge. Cole was gone, too. The only person she had in her corner was a man she hardly knew. A colleague she’d never worked with, and he had no idea what she’d suffered at the hands of DeChamp. That was pretty clear at the meeting. In fact, none of them had a clue. Maybe they had but didn’t really care. All they cared about was busting up the ring. Well, at the end of the day, that was the goal. But how all this tied to her hunt for Edmunds and his sister remained a mystery. So had running into Walker Benoit. A man who had served only three years for his part in the ring. She was sure he was still part of it though. In fact, he was probably DeChamp’s eyes and ears on the outside.

She wanted to call Claire, to check on her after Tim had made sure she and Billy were safe. Claire must’ve been beside herself with worry. And now that she was working this case to help get DeChamp released, well, Claire wasn’t going to be onboard with that. At all. Maybe just a text to let her know she was okay.

While she pondered her personal choices, a knock sounded on the hotel room door. Remy approached the door and opened it to find Elliot Gainor on the other side. “That was quick. I only just got settled in.”

“Sorry, Remy. We don’t have a lot of time. I’ve got someone I want you to meet. Someone who’s been helping me. You ready?”

“Sure.” She grabbed her bag and followed him into the parking lot. “Where are we going?”

He opened the door to his Toyota Camry under the late afternoon sun. “Not far. Jump in.”

“I like being kept in the dark,” she whispered under her breath. Remy opened the passenger door and slipped onto the beige cloth seats. After Gainor backed out of the parking lot, she turned to him. “Any leads on who dismembered my fugitive in her hotel room?”

Gainor looked to her. “NOPD is running that investigation and while they’re keeping us in the loop, it’s not your concern anymore.”

“No?” she asked with indignation.

“No, Remy. That woman was murdered because of her connection to you. Not to put that guilt on your shoulders, that’s just the way it is. So her death is connected to this investigation. We know it was someone with ties to DeChamp. So, the man we’re going to see could shed some light on that for us.” He glanced at her. “It’s someone you know.”

Remy rested her arm on the passenger door and peered through the windshield as he drove toward the edge of the city. She grabbed her phone and texted Claire along the way, knowing that if she forgot, it would only worry her sister.

“Who are you texting?” Gainor asked.

“My sister. She prefers to know that I’m safe.”

“Does she know about this?” he asked.

“Some. She’s under threat, same as me, so I took precautions. She has to know I’m okay.” Remy peered through the window. “I know this area.”

“Thought you might,” Gainor said. “We’re meeting our contact near the docks. It’s best no one sees him with us.”

“Now I’m intrigued,” she replied.

“I would be too, if I were you.” Gainor pulled up alongside the bulkhead at a nearby dock.

Remy spotted a car ahead, but no one appeared to be inside. She waited for Gainor to step out and joined him as they started toward the docks. She spotted a figure in the distance, but the sun cast him in shadow. Slim, shoulder-length hair. He was pressed against a column along the boardwalk. And as they neared and the sun was shaded by a passing cloud, she could see who it was. “What the hell?”

The man smiled and pushed off the column, flicking away his cigarette. “We meet again, Remy. Nothing for fourteen years and now twice in two days.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Walker?”

“Your buddy didn’t fill you in?” he replied.

She shot a look at Gainor. “No, he didn’t. But maybe he should.”

Chapter 19

Blindsided again. It seemed that those on Remy’s team had done their best to keep her in the dark about a world she had tried hard to put behind her. All the while, claiming it was just some coincidence. Sure.

While Gainor drove back to the FBI field office with Remy in the passenger seat, she looked out on the beautiful city that kept alive so many horrific memories. But to see Walker Benoit, a man she distinctly recalled hurting her more than once, now on the same side as law enforcement, was unexpected and left a bad taste in her mouth.

Benoit might’ve been helping Gainor and the task force, but he hadn’t given up his loyalty to DeChamp. The only reason he would turn on DeChamp would be for a deal. Gainor and the feds had to have made him a deal.

Gainor glanced at her from behind the wheel as he drove along the two-lane road. “Listen, there’s not much left for you to do here until the hearing in a few days. If you want to head home, sort things out, prepare . . . I don’t have a problem with that. But once he’s out, I’ll need you here.”

Remy kept her sights on the passing landscape. “For how long? Last I checked, I work for FAU, not CD. If I do my part, say what you want me to say, what more do I need to do after that? Because my priority will be to watch my own back and the backs of people DeChamp will likely go after. You think this is a means to an end. But for me, it’s just the beginning of a nightmare I never believed would come to pass.”

“Remy, I know how you feel . . .”

“Do you?” she shot back. “Somehow, I don’t think you do. I get you’ve been on this case for a while, working to bring it down, and I’m sure you saw a lot of bad shit. But I lived it, Elliot. I lived it. And you’re making me re-live it, and frankly, I’m not sure I can.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, if you turn me loose, I’ll get to DeChamp. I know how because I’ve done it before. I’ll get to him, and I’ll kill the son of a bitch myself.”

“You can’t . . .”

“What? I can’t what? Destroy my life, my career, all that I’ve worked for?” She scoffed. “To stop that Machiavellian son of a bitch? Oh, yes, I can.”

“You know what, you should go back to Baton Rouge. Hubert will have to talk some sense into you. I can’t have you going into this thing guns blazing, Remy. You’ll suffer for it and so will my team and the entire year that I’ve been working on this case. Go home. Sort your shit out and remember that you’re an LBI agent. Whatever happened to you in the past is in the past. I need to be able to trust you, Remy. If I can’t, I’ll have to find another way to bring down DeChamp.”

She looked at him. “Trust? I think that went out the door the moment you mentioned DeChamp’s name to me. But you know what? You’re probably right. I need to think about this, because here’s the thing, Elliot. What happened to me in the past made me who I am today. And that’s the person you want to have your back.”

* * *

While the task force prepared for the release of Kyle DeChamp, as though it was a given, Remy returned to Baton Rouge to, as Elliot Gainor had suggested, ‘get her head straight’ and remember her job was to enforce the law.

She stepped out of the elevator on the floor of the FAU. It was early evening and only a few of her coworkers remained. Remy noticed Ketner as she walked to her desk. “You’re still here?”

He looked up and smiled at her. “You’re here? I thought you were in New Orleans.”

“I was.” Remy set down her laptop bag. “Elliot said I should come back here and prepare, so here I am.” She glanced around. “Don’t suppose you’ve seen Hubert?”

“He was in his office, last I checked. I imagine he’s still there.” Ketner glanced at the clock. “I think it’s time for me to hit the road.” He shut down his computer and turned to her. “I’m sorry about what went on down there — with Alex and all that. Your fugitive. Alex came in earlier. Pete and I told him to go home, but you know what he’s like.”

“Yes, I do. Is he still around?” she asked.

“Oh yeah. In his office. Listen, um, you let me know if you need anything, yeah? I mean it.”

“I will. And thanks.” As Kevin made his way to the elevator, Remy headed down the hall to Alex’s office. She stood in the doorway with arms folded while he kept his eyes on his computer. “Why in the hell are you here?”

He peered up at her and smiled. “Remy.” But when he stood, he winced in pain and clutched at his side.

“Just sit down.” She walked in and took a seat across from him. “I’ll bet your wife’s not happy you’re here.”

He hung his head for a moment. “Not really, no. So Elliot sent you packing, huh?”

“He did.” Remy crossed her legs and tossed back her blonde hair. “Told me to get my shit together before the hearing on Wednesday. What’s going on with Edmunds? Any news?”

“Your buddy, Grayson, has him in custody. They’re going to charge him with the murder of his fiancée Beth Ann, and Wendy Collins.”

“What about the rest of them? And the possibility he murdered a woman under the alias of Jim Edgar? And we still don’t know how his sister fits into this. There’s so many . . .”

“Remy.” Alex raised his hands in defense. “It’s in Grayson’s hands now. We gave him his guy. All that’s left is handing over our files. The rest is up to them.”

“But we could’ve seen this through. We could’ve figured out Elise Eaton’s part in all this,” Remy added.

“Well, she’s dead now, so I guess it doesn’t matter.” He looked away a moment. “Listen, Remy, what Hubert’s doing — making you go through with this parole board hearing — it crosses a line. I know he sees it. Gainor sees it too, he just doesn’t want to admit it because they need you.”

“I was always going to have to make a statement at the hearing. That hasn’t changed. What’s changed is what I intend to say,” Remy replied.

“And what happens when he gets out?” Alex cut in. “I’m not okay with any of this, Remy, and you shouldn’t be either. This is so far over the line. I made that clear to Hubert as well.”

Remy sighed. “Alex, please don’t get in the middle of this. I know you’re just looking out for me, and I appreciate it, but this is part of the job. We’re still LBI and we have a job to do. We’ve both had to team up with CD before. This is nothing new.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts,” she cut in. “I’ll do what I need to do for the case and to get DeChamp out of my life forever.”

“But what if it doesn’t turn out that way, Remy? You said yourself that he’ll come after you, your family. Your old partner’s family. What, are you supposed to run around and protect them all once that psycho is set loose?”

Remy pulled up to his desk and held his gaze. “I’m lucky to have you in my life, Alex. I’m grateful. But this is something I have to do, and once it’s done, I can finally move on. Do you have any idea how much I want to move on — from all of it?”

“I don’t know, Remy.” Alex looked away a moment. “I’m scared for you. I feel like, you know, like you’re my family. I know that sounds stupid and . . .”

“No, it doesn’t. You make me feel like I’m a part of your family. A part of your lives. That means more to me than you’ll ever know. So, trust me on this one, okay? I know what I’m doing. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to have my back.”

“Always, Remy. Always.”

She pushed up from the chair. “Good. Then I’d better go sit down with Hubert and hash this out. The next few days are going to be . . . something. Now, you go home and get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, or better yet, in a few days when you’re stronger.” She turned on her heel and headed back into the corridor. Remy approached Hubert’s office and stood in the doorway. “Evening, sir.”

Hubert pulled his attention away from the file on his desk and cast up his eyes to her. “Remy. Come in, please.” He gestured for her to sit. “Glad to see you made it back safely. You’ve been putting in a lot of miles lately.”

“Yes, sir, I have.” She took a seat. “I got up to speed on the Edmunds case with Alex.”

“He’s still here?” Hubert asked.

“Sadly, yes. But I told him to go home before Maggie grabbed the kids and drove here to take him home.”

“I have no doubt she would do just that.” Hubert pushed back his shoulders and regarded her a moment. “Remy, I know none of this was supposed to happen. You’re still getting used to things here. How we do the job. This isn’t what you needed.”

“No, sir. Not particularly, but since I arrived, it seems Kyle DeChamp has continued to make his presence known. I’d like that to end, and if this is what it will take to make that happen, then I suppose that’s what it takes.”

“What did Elliot have to say? I thought you’d be staying there until after the hearing,” Hubert continued.

“He said I should gather myself, to put it politely. Make sure I’m ready for the hearing and plan out what needs to be said. Turns out, he’s got one of DeChamp’s cronies in his corner.”

“Walker Benoit,” Hubert replied.

“Yes, sir. I know that man well. It does make me feel a little better knowing there’s someone on the inside like that, not that Benoit has my trust. I’m not sure he doesn’t have an agenda, but regardless, without some insight, I don’t think Elliot would be prepared for what awaits him.”

“He’s put in a lot of hours on this one,” Hubert said. “But with you stepping in like this, it changes things. Changes the trajectory of this case.”

“So I’ve been told.” Remy shifted her legs and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sir, there is something I need to ask. If I’m expected to put my life on the line, and I get it, it’s my job, then I want protection for Max Peña’s family. For my sister and her family too. I have a temporary plan in place, but I need something more permanent until this is over. I won’t put their lives at risk. I won’t.”

Hubert nodded. “That’s a more than reasonable request, Remy. I’m sure I can make that happen. I will make it happen.” He paused a moment. “One thing I would suggest is that CD keeps an eye out for you, too.”

“Sir, I can handle . . .”

“I know, but I’m afraid that isn’t negotiable. We’ll get either Valencic or Lopez, or . . .”

“What about Grayson?” she blurted without really thinking about it.

“What about him? I don’t think we can ask the Marshals to step in. Grayson’s got his hands full with the Edmunds situation.”

“Thing is, sir, I trust him with my life. He came through for me on the bank robber case. I don’t know, I guess I feel like he’ll have greater resources.”

“Than our own people?” Hubert asked.

“They have an office in New Orleans. I’m just thinking about what’s going to give me the comfort level I need to see this through. Don’t get me wrong, Valencic and Lopez are great at what they do, but Grayson knows how to handle witnesses, keep them safe. I’ll be honest, that puts me at ease.”

Hubert rubbed his chin and peered down a moment. “And you’re sure that’s all this is about?” He raised his hands. “Not that you don’t deserve a personal life, Remy, but it seems you and Grayson have grown close. If that’s the case, and I don’t mean to overstep, but it will change his perspective. I know you of all people get that.”

Maybe Hubert knew Remy better than she thought. “You’re right, sir, I do get that. But just so you understand, this isn’t the same thing. Grayson and I are friends.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to answer any differently.” He leaned back in his chair and cocked his head. “So, I’ll tell you what, I’ll reach out to the Marshal’s office here. See if they can spare Grayson during the hearing and after DeChamp is released. We’ll have eyes on you until the DeChamp situation is under control, and when that happens, we get this thing back on track.”

“Thank you, sir.” Remy stood from the chair. “One more thing.” She eyed him. “I appreciate that Elliot has worked his case a long time. But I will say this, it never should’ve come down to this. Come down to me making or breaking his investigation. You say he’s a good agent. But right now, all I see is a man grasping at straws, searching for a way to get who he wants, even if it bends, or even breaks the rules.”

* * *

Remy sat in her 4Runner outside Grayson’s home. He lived in a single level three-bedroom home in a community known as Jefferson Place, not far from Downtown Baton Rouge. Grayson had never been married, and by his own admission, was a bit of a playboy. Partly it was the job, partly it was his personality. So when he’d told Remy he loved her, it was the last three words she ever expected to come from his mouth. And the way she’d left things with him, well, it was classic Remy.

She’d just convinced her boss to request the Marshal’s assistance in protecting her in New Orleans. The request should’ve been made to that office. Instead, Remy wanted it to be Grayson. It was true that she had trusted him with her life. But if she could be honest with herself, it was more than that. It was a feeling she hadn’t wanted to admit to herself or anyone, for that matter. Alex saw it. Hubert had seen it too. Remy once considered herself having mastered indifference. Maybe not so much anymore.

His porch light burned amber, while a white glow diffused through the blinds on his front window. She half expected him not to have been home. The Marshals were a different breed, she thought. As though they weren’t really people, just work horses. Federal work horses with a bit of an attitude. And it wasn’t that Grayson hadn’t exhibited that same attitude on their first meeting. But his hard exterior, that protective layer he kept around himself like armor, faded as they rekindled the ember that had sparked months ago. He made himself vulnerable to her and she hadn’t done the same.

Her phone rang and she glanced at the caller ID. She smiled broadly as she answered. “Yes?”

“Are you planning on coming inside or just sitting in front of my house for the rest of the night?” Grayson asked.

“I guess I’ll come in.” She ended the call and stepped out into the night air that seemed a little cooler than just yesterday.

The front door opened, and he appeared, the light of his foyer behind him. A white T-shirt fit snugly against his chest and upper arms. A pair of basketball shorts. His wavy brunette hair glimmered under the foyer light.

“Were you on the way to the gym?” she asked.

“No, just doing some work. Got a little behind after bailing out the LBI in New Orleans.” He smiled. “Which is where I thought you were. Come in.”

Remy stepped inside. “I have a few days before the hearing. Elliot suggested I clear my head and prepare for it.”

He closed the door behind her. “And you agreed? Are you feeling all right?”

She chuckled. “I’m fine. And yes, I agreed — reluctantly.”

“There’s the Remy I know.” He started into his kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“A beer, if you have any,” she replied.

“If? I thought you knew me better than that.” He pulled out two bottles. “Corona okay?”

“Perfect.” Remy took the bottle from him and tossed back a long drink.

“You must be exhausted. You haven’t slept in two days.” He took a swig. “Come sit down in the living room. Put your feet up.”

Remy trailed him to his sofa. “I’ve never been inside here before.”

“No?” He knitted his brow. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ve dropped you off, but no. Never got an invitation to come in.”

He pointed an index finger at her. “Now, that can’t be true.”

“I’m kidding about the invitation part.” She sat down next to him. “Nice place, though.”

“You sound surprised,” he replied.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to have such good taste.”

“Gee, thanks.” Grayson took another sip of his beer. “So, what’s on your mind?”

“That’s a loaded question.” Remy proceeded to fill him in on the past few hours since her return and the proposal she’d made to Hubert. “What do you think?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think, Remy. I don’t assign my own cases. You know that. And I still have my hands full tying up loose ends on the Edmunds case. It’ll be up to the powers that be.” He regarded her. “Did Hubert seem — surprised by your request?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Does he see this as a problem?” Grayson pressed on.

“Maybe a little.” She took another drink. “He thinks that you might be too close to the situation, if you were assigned to the case.”

Grayson peered at her. “He’s not wrong. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Chapter 20

The Elayn Hunt Correctional Center appeared ahead. Remy had chosen to arrive alone. She wanted the time to think, to consider her options, or figure out whether she truly had any. And so Gainor had given her space. He wasn’t going to be there, of course. In fact, no one would be there for her. This was something she had to do alone, and after months of dread, the time had arrived.

The massive facility loomed as Remy reached the visitor parking lot. She hadn’t seen DeChamp since he threatened Max’s family after sending her letters. That nearly cost her job. She’d barged in on the warden at his home with her old friend and lawyer Willis Cain. He’d offered to come today, but she declined.

DeChamp had been in this place for nearly half his sentence, and this was how the justice system worked. A parole hearing was given. The board listened to people on both sides and weighed in on whether they believed their convicted felon had been rehabilitated. Remy scoffed. Of course DeChamp hadn’t been rehabilitated. All that had happened to him was that he’d gained more power, more influence. Had the right people in his pocket. And her statement could sway the board one way or another, or maybe not. Optics played a big role in the board’s decision-making process whether she could admit to that. They all had their own higher-ups and who knew whether DeChamp had any one of them in his pocket. If Remy wagered, she’d say he had.

She parked her 4Runner and stepped out into a bright day. She’d expected gloomy skies and rolling thunder given the nature of her presence here, but that only happened in stories, she supposed. A mood that would’ve matched her own. Remy pulled on her gray suit jacket and smoothed it down. Standing next to her SUV, she remained still, unable to move. “You have to do this, Remy. You’re the only one who can.” That part was true. His other victims were mostly drug addicts, thanks to what he’d done. Some had fled the state, opting to change their names and start new lives. Remy often wondered if that might’ve been the better option. The changing names part, not the drugs part.

Finally, her feet moved, carrying her to the building’s entrance. Her part in all this would be minimal. Mostly, it would be the lawyers talking about DeChamp’s supposed good behavior. “Right.” She laughed. So, just rip off the Band-Aid and get this over with. Whatever happened after, well, she’d figure that out later.

Remy moved on, securing her car keys in her bag, preparing to leave everything in the little cubby. She hated going anywhere without her weapon, but that wasn’t an option here. She opened the door and stepped inside. It was the smell that hit her first. Sterile, like a hospital. Since Covid, the prisons liberally applied disinfectants, it seemed.

“Put your things in the plastic bin and step up, ma’am.”

A prison guard captured Remy’s attention and waved her on. She hardly heard the words, except that she had to move ahead. Remy grabbed a bin and placed her belongings inside. She stepped up to the metal detector and X-ray machine. It was a lot like the airport.

The wand was waved around her. “Go on through, ma’am.”

Remy stepped through to the nearby counter.

“ID please,” the man said from behind a piece of plexiglass.

Remy glanced back at her handbag. “Oh, it’s inside the bag.”

He rolled his eyes. “Go get it, please.”

It wasn’t like Remy hadn’t been here before. She knew the deal, but this felt different. She was off her game. After quickly retrieving her driver’s license, she returned to the counter. “Here you go.”

He took it from her and examined it, peering back and forth between her and the photo. “Thank you.” He handed it back. “You can keep that in your suit jacket if you’d like.”

“Of course.” Remy stepped through into another room that appeared to have been a waiting area. A guard was just inside, and he thrust out his hand to stop her. “Take a seat. You’ll be called in when they’re ready.”

“Okay.” Remy sat down. She thought she might be in there for the entire hearing, but it didn’t appear that way. Maybe it was best. The longer she had to sit in the same room as DeChamp, the worse she would feel.

It took much longer than she expected. Her nerves were frayed and when the guard approached, she knew the time had finally come.

“Ma’am, they’re ready for you now.” He held out his hand to help her stand.

Remy accepted the help, not realizing she needed it. “Thank you.”

“Do you have any notes or papers you’d like to take in with you? I’ll need to check them out before you go in,” he continued.

“No, thank you. I know what I’m going to say.”

“Then I’ll show you in.” The guard led Remy to the door and opened it. “After you, ma’am.” He waited for Remy to step inside and then led her to a table that faced the parole board. “Have a seat.”

She sat down and her throat dried in an instant. Her hands turned clammy. She felt like a child about to be admonished by the principal. And then she saw him. To her right was Kyle DeChamp. He looked about the same as he had when she met with him a few months ago. Maybe a few more tattoos on his arms. He wasn’t the same man she’d met long ago, that was certain. In his forties now, that handsome face looked old, weathered. His hair was shaved close to his head. Deep wrinkles around his mouth pulled his lips into a permanent frown. Right now, he was the ugliest man she’d ever seen, and when he smiled at her, her skin crawled.

“LBI Agent Remy Fontaine.” A man who sat in the center of the long table ahead of her called out.

“Yes, sir. I’m Remy Fontaine.”

He placed glasses on his face and read from a sheet of paper. “You’re also a victim of Mr. Kyle DeChamp, is that correct?”

She leaned close to the microphone on the table. “Yes, sir.”

“And you’re now in law enforcement, I see,” he continued.

“I am. Going on eleven years in total, sir.”

“Impressive.” He sat back and removed his glasses. “And you’re here to make a statement as to the subject of Mr. DeChamp being granted parole.”

“I am, sir.” She cleared her throat.

“Whenever you’re ready, Agent Fontaine.”

She felt DeChamp’s eyes on her as though he might stare a hole right through her head. Intimidation was how he’d got away with much of what he’d done to women. To look at him was to see a frightening man. He hadn’t always been that way, of course. She thought she’d loved him once. It felt like love then, when she hadn’t known what it was supposed to feel like. That quickly changed when he decided to share her, even though she hadn’t wanted to be shared.

And then she thought about Gainor. Could he pull off what he wanted to pull off or was it just another shot in the dark at taking down this man? Remy had been fooled into thinking that, because he was behind bars, he was no longer a threat. That turned out to have been untrue.

“Agent Fontaine?” another board member called out. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m fine. Sorry. I’m ready.” She cleared her throat again and pulled the mic closer. “I’m here to speak on behalf of the victims of Kyle DeChamp. Most of whom no longer have a voice or are too afraid to express it. I, however, have a voice. I’ve used that voice for the past eleven years to fight for all victims. Mr. DeChamp is nothing more than a predator.” She heard Hubert’s voice in her head, but she couldn’t stop the words as they poured out of her. “He is a master manipulator. He cares only for himself.” She finally had the courage to glance at him and she watched his face turn to stone. Perhaps he’d expected something different from her too. “To suggest that Mr. DeChamp has been a model inmate, a man who has learned from his mistakes, regrets what he’s done to so many women, including myself, would be to suggest something so utterly insane and unbelievable that it makes this entire process farcical.” She took a breath. “Kyle DeChamp is not a changed man. He continues to taunt me. The warden can attest to that. He continues to threaten me.”

“That’s an unproven claim, Ms. Fontaine,” DeChamp’s lawyer cut in.

“This is not your time to speak, Mr. Renforth. Please allow the victim to make her statement as permitted by these proceedings.” The board member looked again to Remy. “Please continue.”

“Thank you. If this board grants parole to Mr. DeChamp, I have no doubt that not only will my life be placed in danger, but also the lives of those around me. My family, my friends. Kyle DeChamp will take out his anger over the notion I put him here in the first place, I promise you that. So I respectfully ask the members of this board to deny Mr. DeChamp his parole and allow him to finish the sentence passed on him in his previous trial. If you do not, Mr. DeChamp will kill me and everyone I love. Our blood will be on your hands.”

The head of the board cleared his throat. “Thank you, Agent Fontaine. The board will consider your very compelling statement. We thank you for your time.”

Remy pushed back her chair and stood from the table. She turned to face DeChamp and noticed his blank stare. No anger lingered, no hate. In fact, his eyes held nothing behind them, not even life. Maybe this place had taken that from him. But she couldn’t help but wonder, if he wasn’t angry at her words, why?

She continued out of the room and hunched over as if out of breath. What had been months in the making was over. Remy hadn’t complied with Gainor’s request, nor had she complied with DeChamp’s earlier threat that, should she attempt to derail his opportunity, she would suffer. She had made an unforgivable mistake before and suggesting that it had been for the right reasons was a feeble excuse. Remy wasn’t going to let someone else use her feelings for their own gains, even if it could cost her everything.

“Ma’am, are you all right?” A guard placed his hand on Remy’s back.

She pulled upright again. “Yes, I’m fine. I’d like to leave now.”

“The hearing isn’t finished. Wouldn’t you prefer to stay until the end?” he asked.

“No. I’ve been here long enough. I’ve allowed this entire situation to go on long enough now. May I leave?”

“Of course. Follow me.”

Remy returned to the front and retrieved her belongings. She pushed open the heavy metal door and stepped outside into a noonday sun. A wave of nausea circled inside her. All this time and the hearing was finally over. DeChamp had threatened her, threatened Max’s family. That had to mean something to the board. But he was a powerful man. He’d said as much.

She walked to her 4Runner and climbed inside, turning the engine, and aiming the air vents at her face. The cool air calmed her stomach. “Now what?”

Gainor would want to know how it had gone. He was probably waiting with his phone in hand right now, but what could she say?

Remy pulled out of the parking lot and started back toward the city. The prison was about seventy miles outside New Orleans and, no doubt, Gainor would want to meet at the FBI field office, as they had before. She wanted DeChamp gone as much as anyone, probably more, but to lie and submit to the board that she believed he deserved parole was an impossible ask. No one, especially Hubert, should’ve asked that of her. Now, the consequences of her actions remained to be seen.

She dialed Grayson’s number and waited for him to answer.

“It’s over?” he asked as he answered.

“My part is over. I left. I couldn’t bear to stay a moment longer,” she replied. “I’m headed back to the city now to meet with Elliot at the FBI field office.”

“Can I ask how it went?” Grayson continued.

“Not as I expected. Cole, I didn’t do what they wanted. I didn’t suggest DeChamp deserved parole, in fact, it was the exact opposite.” Silence remained on the line. “Cole, are you still there?”

“I’m here. What’s this going to mean for you, Remy?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure I’ll find out in about an hour. Maybe less, depending on how much longer the hearing goes on for,” she replied.

“And you’re okay?”

“Me? I’m fine. I just couldn’t do it, Cole. I couldn’t be a part of letting that man out of prison, no matter what the cost. I know Elliot won’t see it that way. Hubert won’t either.”

“Don’t worry about them. Hubert, for one, won’t fault you. It’s not in his nature. I’m not sure how this will impact Gainor’s investigation. But regardless, you did what you believed was right. No one can fault you for that. No one went through what you did, Remy. If they can’t respect that, you shouldn’t be part of their team.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to wait and see what the board decides. Listen, I’d better go. I’ll keep you posted. Who knows? I may be back in town tonight if I get booted off the case.”

“Be safe, Remy. We’ll talk soon.” Grayson ended the call.

Claire would’ve been proud of her. Her big sister was always the protector, especially after their parents died. Maybe soon, she could tell Claire it was safe to return home. Billy’s family had been kind enough to take them in, but they couldn’t stay there. They both had a life to get back to. She made the call. “Claire?”

“Remy, oh my God. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. You would’ve been proud. I did what I thought was right.”

“What does this mean? Is it over?” Claire asked. “Are we . . . are we safe now?”

Remy closed her eyes a moment. “I don’t know yet. I know you want to go home, but I’m just not sure it’s safe. But I promise you, this will be over soon. I’m so sorry I’ve put you all through this.”

“You didn’t do anything, Remy. You’re trying to protect us, and we know that. Billy knows that. The lawyer in him thinks Kyle should be charged with threatening behavior, but since we can’t prove it’s him . . .”

“Listen, I have to go, but I wanted to tell you that I did what I had to do in there. And that just as soon as I know anything, I’ll call you. I love you, Claire.”

“I love you too, Remy. Be safe.”

Remy turned up her radio and tried to drown her thoughts in the music as she headed back to New Orleans and prepared to face the music of her own making. What was done was done and there was no going back. She felt no guilt, though, and that was all that mattered. And it was probably the first time since Max died that she hadn’t felt guilt. Of course, his family could still be in DeChamp’s crosshairs. Max’s friend Tim would see to it the family stayed safe. He was a good man.

She drove on, tuning out all but the music. Even tuning out thoughts of Max, which to be honest, hadn’t plagued her mind as frequently as they had in the past. Maybe she was finally overcoming that grief and guilt. And maybe Cole Grayson had a small part in her recovery, even if she hadn’t wanted to admit it.

It took another half an hour before her cell phone rang again. This time, the caller ID appeared to come from the prison. “No, he wouldn’t call. Not a chance.” She answered. “Hello?”

“Agent Fontaine, this is Grant Hutchins with the parole board.”

Her heart jumped into her throat. “Yes, sir. Hello.”

“I wanted to be the one to inform you that the hearing has concluded, and the board reached a decision.”

“Okay.” She swallowed hard.

“Agent Fontaine, despite your heartfelt words, I’m afraid the board has voted to grant Mr. DeChamp parole. I thought it necessary you hear it from me first.”

Had she heard that right? After what she’d said they were still going to let that son of a bitch out?

“Agent Fontaine?”

“Uh, yes, I’m here. Well, I’m devastated, as you can imagine, Mr. Hutchins. You must understand what the board has allowed.”

“DeChamp has assured us his previous history with you was a source of great regret for him. And given his exemplary record since he arrived here, the majority decision was made.”

“When?” she replied harshly. “When will he get out?”

“Within a matter of days, Agent Fontaine. I do wish you the—”

Remy hung up. “My God. They’re letting him go.”

Chapter 21

The shock hadn’t waned, even as Remy arrived at the New Orleans FBI field office. She’d wondered why Gainor hadn’t reached out. Now it seemed he hadn’t because he already knew. He’d gotten exactly what he wanted, regardless of Remy’s input.

She entered the building and went through the metal detectors. On the other side stood Elliot Gainor, and by the look on his face, he knew what she’d done at the hearing. She passed through and grabbed her things before setting her sights on him. “Well, you got what you wanted.”

He pinched together his lips. “I’d say thanks to you, but . . .” Gainor started back.

“I had to do what I felt was right. And I’m glad I did because it didn’t hurt your investigation or your plans for DeChamp. It changed nothing.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Remy.” He stopped and squared up to her. “You said yourself that DeChamp warned you against making a negative statement about him. What do you think he’ll do now? He’ll be out in a matter of days.”

“The funny thing is that you think my words would’ve made a damn bit of difference to him or to the board,” she replied. “He would’ve come for me either way. I was always the one who put him there.”

“Well, it is what it is and now we have to proceed with the plan. One thing is certain, Remy, and that is you’re safer back home. We still have a way to go to see this through and hope it ends as we’d like it to. Even that is an uncertainty, but you can’t be here because DeChamp will be. He won’t be able to leave the city while he’s on parole. He’ll be in a halfway house for a while and have to check in with his parole officer daily.”

“And your endgame is the same? Hope they start an internal war?” she continued.

“That’s the plan. With Benoit in our pocket, we stand a decent chance of pushing things in a certain direction.” Elliot moved closer. “Look, Remy, I get why you did what you did. I don’t like it, but ultimately, it changed nothing.”

She raised her index finger. “You might want to think about why that is.”

“Oh, believe me, I have,” he continued. “Point being, you’ll be leaving with your conscience intact. Be happy about that. This could’ve gone a whole ’nother way. And for your sake, I’m glad it didn’t.”

* * *

In a few days, Remy’s life would be altered once again. And while it had been Gainor’s plan to see this to fruition, he had no idea what he was up against. For the board to have gone against her and the statement she made meant DeChamp had greased palms — probably several. She’d lived in the state long enough to know that New Orleans wasn’t exactly a beacon of morality where the law and all its aspects were concerned. And if DeChamp wielded that kind of influence, who was to say he couldn’t do the same with his parole officer? Slip away for a day or so? Get out of town and go see what his ex was up to? It was an easy conclusion to make and yet it seemed neither Gainor, nor Hubert, had made it. Or if they had, they had no plans to tell Remy.

So now, as she made her way back to Baton Rouge, Remy had to shore up her defenses. She had to, once again, keep one eye in her rearview looking out for the man she’d put behind bars once already.

No one in Baton Rouge, besides Claire, knew much of anything about DeChamp. Alex knew some, of course, and now Cole, but no one there had come up against him. Remy had. Her escape had been carefully planned and executed. She’d spent a month laying it all out. DeChamp had trusted her and she had used that to her advantage. Elliot Gainor thought he could be the puppet master, getting Benoit and whoever else to go against DeChamp. It was a risky plan that could easily fall apart.

She returned to the FAU office and headed straight in to see Hubert. Ketner offered a wave and she politely nodded, but she could see in his face, he knew something had gone awry. Alex hadn’t reached out to her yet. Maybe he didn’t know, but that was unlikely. The thing about him was that he would have her back. He would understand why she’d done what she had done.

“Sir?”

Hubert was caught off guard and drew his attention toward her. “Remy, come in. Close the door behind you?”

“Yes, sir.” She walked inside and sat down. “It doesn’t look like I need to tell you what happened with the hearing.”

“I was made aware of the results and your actions,” he replied. “Can’t say I’m surprised in all honesty.” He pulled off his reading glasses and regarded her. “I don’t know that had this gone the other way if I would be saying this, but I’m glad you stuck to your guns, Remy. I reckon a small part of me figured you would. But it has changed things. With Elliot, with DeChamp himself, I imagine.”

“Once he’s out, sir, I’ll have to protect myself and those around me.”

“You need to trust what Elliot and the task force have in store for that man. He won’t step foot outside New Orleans. And he’d be a fool to come after you, Remy.”

“He may not come himself, although, knowing him like I do . . .”

“Like I said, that task force has been working on this for more than a year. DeChamp thinks he’s on top of the world right now, but I’ll tell you something, he’s about to come crashing down and so is everyone around him. He’ll wish he’d stayed on the inside where he was safe.”

“Sir, it’s not the FAU’s job to . . .”

“Back away when we know something’s going to go down?” Hubert finished. “It’s part of our job, yes, ma’am. Elliot’s man on the inside . . .”

“He’s about as slimy as you can get,” Remy replied. “No way should Elliot put his trust in him.”

Hubert leaned back in his chair. “You tell Elliot that?”

“I did,” she replied. “He didn’t seem too concerned.”

Hubert folded his arms over his chest. “I’ll tell you what, you got yourself two options, Remy. Stay here and let things unfold with the task force or be part of it.”

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“Elliot’s been holed up with those folks down there the better part of a year. He’s well versed in their ways. But you got the inside track, Remy. I know Elliot essentially washed his hands of your involvement, but you know DeChamp better than most, I suspect. And you know this Walker Benoit personally. What do you think? It isn’t part of FAU, but after spending a decade as a state trooper, I know you know what you’re doing from an investigative standpoint. From a tactical one too. Whatever you want, I’ll back you, one hundred percent, Remy. So, the choice is yours. How do you want to let this play out?”

* * *

Remy sipped on her bottle of beer as she watched Alex consider the proposal. This was something that needed to be discussed over a beer and now she waited for his response. “You seem to be taking a while.”

“I’m not sure what to tell you, Remy. You’re asking me to weigh in on whether you should stay here or join the fight. First of all, Elliot didn’t sound like he wanted you there. And here, we can protect you. Your family. There? You have no one. I can’t . . .”

“I’d never ask you to, Alex. This isn’t your fight, and you still have a job to do. So do I, but I think Hubert’s offering me this option out of his own guilt.”

“Why would he feel guilty?” Alex asked.

“Because he asked me to go against my gut when he knew just how hard that would be for me,” she replied.

“Maybe. Look, Hubert’s always been a man I could trust. He’s trusted us and we’ve returned it. So, yeah, maybe this was his way of making things right, or he knows your background. He knows what you’re capable of, and he wants you there to see it through. I think he wants this over as much as you do, Remy.”

“So what you’re saying is I should go back?”

Alex tossed back a swig of beer and licked the foam on his lip. “I’m saying that if you don’t, I’m not sure you’ll be okay with that. Or that you’ll get to a place where you can finally put DeChamp behind you. I think Hubert knows this is how you become great at what you do. You’re a hunter, Remy. Maybe even better than me.”

She cracked a smile. “I doubt that.”

“I don’t. I’m just saying, as hard as it is for me to watch you put yourself through this, it may be the only way.”

Remy glanced over at the televisions above the bar that broadcast Thursday night football. She turned back to him. “I suppose Elliot could use my help, my knowledge of Kyle DeChamp. But who knows how long this will take? Weeks, months.” She shrugged.

“It takes as long as it takes, but my two cents? It’ll come to a head pretty quickly. You won’t suffer anything more.”

“You know, the last time I confronted him was just after the Dunn case,” Remy began. “I wasn’t afraid of him that time. I wasn’t afraid of him this time, regardless of his threats.”

“You’re not an eighteen-year-old girl anymore, Remy. He doesn’t have that kind of hold over you now,” Alex replied.

“Thank you. I needed to hear that. Even if I felt it, I needed to hear it.” She picked up her bottle of beer. “Well, I’ll wrap up whatever’s left here of the Edmunds case, and then I’ll head back. And maybe after this is over, New Orleans won’t have its hold over me either.”

Chapter 22

The process of so-called ‘getting things in order’ left Remy with the unsettling notion that she would not return to Baton Rouge or the FAU. Of course, the nature of her job meant that, on any given day, she might not return home. But it was the call to Claire that had been the hardest. Her sister pleaded with Remy not to go, even though she knew all too well that Remy had no choice. And in a matter that had only involved the feds and the LBI, Grayson voiced his concerns knowing they would fall on deaf ears. But for Remy, this was a means to an end. An end of a long and drawn-out chapter in her life she was more than ready to close. Risks were inherent and she’d come to accept them.

Now to get Elliot Gainor on board after she’d gone against his advice. He’d made clear her involvement was no longer required and Remy suspected he’d lost trust in her, what little she had earned. Nevertheless, Gainor was part of her team, and they shared a common goal. What would happen to their relationship after this was anyone’s guess.

Remy zipped her duffle bag and closed her curtains. She stood in her darkened apartment with the notion that nothing after this would be the same. Alex was supportive of her decision. Hubert had practically insisted on it, and Elliot Gainor was about to get a quick dose of reality of what things would be like with Kyle DeChamp on the outside.

She locked her apartment and walked down the steps to the parking lot. It was still early in the morning and Remy would reach New Orleans by midday. Plenty of time to settle into her hotel and be briefed on the status of DeChamp’s release, scheduled for five p.m. today.

As she stepped into her car, a figure approached the driver’s door and Remy jumped at the sight. “Jesus!” She rolled down the window. “Cole, what are you doing here?”

“I’m taking some much-needed vacation time.”

A tender smile played on her lips. “Oh yeah? Where are you off to?”

He shrugged. “Thought I’d check out New Orleans. I hear it’s great there this time of year.”

She nodded. “I see. You need a lift?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He walked around to the passenger side and hopped in.

Remy reversed out of the parking lot and reached the main road. She was quiet for a moment as they headed for the highway, and after merging with traffic, she glanced at him. “Thank you for this.”

* * *

They arrived at the FBI’s field office in New Orleans by one p.m. Remy and Grayson walked inside to find Gainor waiting for them just beyond the metal detectors. The look on his face suggested to Remy that he hadn’t expected to see a Deputy US Marshal at her side.

“Afternoon.” Gainor offered his hand to her. “Listen, about before when I said . . .”

“You were pissed,” Remy cut in. “I get it. I’m not sure I would’ve reacted any differently. But now that I’m here, I know I can help you see this to its end. One thing is certain, I still live rent free in DeChamp’s head. We can use that.”

“I agree.” He turned to Grayson. “I’m a little surprised to see you here, Deputy. This is a little outside the Marshal’s jurisdiction, isn’t it?”

“Don’t mind me, Agent Gainor. I’m here as a friend for Remy. I know a few folks around here, and should the need arise, I’m happy to pitch in. But I won’t be stepping on any toes, and strictly speaking, this is an unofficial visit for me.”

“I see. Well, we’re happy to have the help. So, as you know, Remy, DeChamp’s going to be released at five p.m. today. Walker Benoit will be picking him up.” He started into the hall toward the offices of the task force. “We’ll have a few of our people monitoring from a distance. Seeing where they go. And, of course, Benoit will reach out to me directly when they do land somewhere.”

Remy walked into the same conference room where she’d been introduced to the task force only about a week earlier. Things were different then. She had no intention of taking part in this investigation. Now, however, she knew her role here was to draw DeChamp’s focus while the rest of the team engaged in tactics designed to turn the higher-ups against him. It was a good idea and knowing DeChamp like she did, it was the right move.

“You mentioned that the purpose of the task force was to learn the identities of the two other operators besides DeChamp and his proxy. And take down all of them, starting with DeChamp,” she said.

“That’s right.” Gainor meandered toward the window and peered out over the bustling street. “We’ll get updates from Benoit and find out who’s willing to go against DeChamp. We’ll work on those folks first.”

“How long?” she cut in. “You’ve been at this for more than a year.”

“We have, but now that DeChamp is about to be released, things will move rapidly. And we have you, so we can hit the ground running.”

Grayson had kept his tongue, which was exactly how Remy wanted it, but she could see he wanted to chime in. “Cole, what are your thoughts?”

“Well” — he shrugged — “this isn’t my gig, but I see that the task force has laid out a plan of action. Y’all intend on pulling strings to make things happen. I think it could work . . .”

“But?” Gainor asked.

“But if you intend to put Remy to use, I’d suggest getting her out there straight away. DeChamp heard every word she said in her witness statement at the hearing. He knows she won’t be happy to see him on the streets again. And, he knows her, or at least, who she has become since he’s been on the inside.”

“He’ll expect me to find a reason to have him thrown back in,” Remy added.

“I think so,” Grayson continued. “And that means he’ll be expecting you to cast a watchful eye over him. If you don’t make your presence known to him quickly, he might call in favors to get to the people you care about to draw you out.”

Gainor appeared to consider Grayson’s theory. “This isn’t something where I can dangle her from a line and wait to see if he bites.”

“No,” Remy cut in. “You’re right. First of all, DeChamp will see through it. He suspects a trap and that’ll be the end of it. For you and me.”

“What are you saying, Remy?” Gainor asked.

“I’m saying, I go directly to him.”

“You’re forgetting the goal here, which is to get his own people to fight internally and have it end up turning into an all-out war. You won’t be the one to pull the trigger, Remy. I shouldn’t have to actually say that to you,” Gainor replied.

“That’s not what I’m getting at. I can keep his focus on me. It’ll buy you time to get people in place to take him down.”

“What makes you think he won’t kill you the second he sees you?”

Remy revealed a wry smile. “I’m not entirely sure he won’t, except I doubt he wants to go back to prison. He’ll be thinking about what I plan on doing, which means he won’t be thinking about the people around him running his operation. He can’t help himself, Elliot. Kyle DeChamp hates to lose, and he hated losing to me.”

* * *

Walker Benoit leaned against the driver’s side door of his black 2015 Dodge Challenger outside the Elayn Hunt Correctional Center. The gates rolled open and Kyle DeChamp emerged with a garbage bag slung over his right shoulder. The clank that rang out as the gates closed again made him flinch.

A smile appeared on Benoit’s sallow face. He waited for DeChamp to reach him and opened his arms. “Been a long time, brother.”

They shared a manly embrace with a thump of their hands against each other’s backs.

DeChamp pulled back and examined his old friend. “You got that right. Much too long. But I’m here now and so are you.” He glanced around. “No one else wanted to come see me?”

“Oh, you know how things get. I know most of the boys didn’t want to show their faces ’round here given their records. Like they was tempting fate, or something.”

“Or something.” DeChamp patted Benoit’s back again. “Well, all right. Let’s get the hell away from this place before they find a reason to put me back in.”

“You got it, boss.” Benoit opened his door and slipped onto the black worn leather seat, waiting for DeChamp to get in. He turned the engine. “Where to first, boss?”

“I was thinking I might like a drink. How about we hit Sylvain? If there was one thing I missed, it was being in the Quarter.” He glanced at Benoit. “It’s calling to me, brother. New-orlins is calling to me.”

“Then that is where we go.” Benoit turned the wheel and headed away from the prison. “I heard our Remy made quite a spectacle of herself at your hearing. Almost sorry I missed it.”

“She said her piece. I’ll tell you, though, she ain’t the same girl I knew back in the day. Gotta lot of anger, that one.”

“I heard she lost her folks a few years’ back. Car accident or some such thing,” Benoit began. “Probably contributed to her recollection of history with you.”

“Maybe so. I gave her everything, man. She wanted for nothing. Then she goes to the cops behind my back.” He shook his head. “Never forgive her for that. Not ever.” He glanced at Benoit again. “How’s Holden been doing in my place? He stopped coming ’round three months ago. Figured he was just busy, but is there anything I should know?”

Benoit kept his eyes on the road and frowned. “No, sir. Nothing I can think of. I know he’s done his best to keep things going since you gave him the shot to fill your shoes. Everyone listens to him like they was listening to you.”

DeChamp nodded. “Now, that’s what I like to hear.”

* * *

From inside the white Honda Accord that belonged to Elliot Gainor, he and FBI Agent Felix Montenegro trailed Benoit’s black Dodge. They hung back several blocks to avoid detection.

Gainor raised the radio. “Stick close to the exit. I want to be sure our friend leads DeChamp back into town.”

The radio buzzed. “Copy that. We have a spotter at that location.”

From the passenger seat, Montenegro turned to Gainor. “We got eyes on him. No one’s going to let him slip by unnoticed. Besides, we have a pretty damn good idea where he’s headed.”

“And I have no doubt he’ll break the rules the moment he sits down at a bar for a drink,” Elliot began. “If I didn’t want his people so badly, I’d haul him in just for that.”

“Then we all would’ve wasted a lot of time on this case. He’s already using Benoit as a chauffeur. Man’s an ex-con too,” Montenegro replied. “Let DeChamp do what he’s going to do. Your teammate, Fontaine, she’ll be a major player in this. I hope you’re ready for that.”

“I’m ready.”

* * *

Remy dropped the curtain and pulled away from the window of her hotel room that overlooked the Mississippi near the Lower Garden District. She walked toward the bed and sat down next to Grayson. “Well, he’s out now.”

“Yep, he’s out,” Grayson replied. “How are you feeling about that?”

She raised her chin. “Confused. Pissed off. Anxious for this to be over. We both have jobs to do and this isn’t it.”

“In the grand scheme of things, it’s a pretty close second.” He placed his hand on her thigh. “Remy, it isn’t too late to back out. Hubert won’t hold it against you.”

“We haven’t known each other long, but you should know that I’m not a quitter. I made a commitment and I intend on seeing it through.”

“I thought you’d say something like that,” Grayson replied. “So if that’s the case, then you have to resign yourself to the notion that none of this is in your control. It isn’t like chasing a fugitive. We aren’t following a trail. This is nothing more than a ploy to get DeChamp’s people to turn against him and take him out. And the bulk of that responsibility falls on your shoulders.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She pushed up from the bed again. “But Elliot’s laid the groundwork. He got Benoit in his pocket and that, alone, is a pretty incredible feat. I’m still not sure it’s the real deal, though. I’ve known him a long time. Walker looks out for Walker.” Remy held his gaze. “I am glad you’re here, but I do want you to remember that you’re off the clock. Don’t do anything that might jeopardize your career.”

He stood from the bed. “Come on, now. What could I possibly do, huh?”

“A few things come to mind.” She chuckled. “No, I’m serious. I want you here, but not if it means putting you in danger.”

“I am wearing my big boy pants today,” Grayson replied. “So, should we get out of here? Go and grab some dinner or something? Nothing’s going to happen tonight, so you should enjoy it while it lasts. Tomorrow’s a whole new ballgame.”

“You know what, I need to do something first,” she replied. “I’d like you to come with me.”

“Sure. Where are we headed?”

“To a place I never thought I’d want to see again.”

* * *

The sun dangled just above the water when they arrived at Crescent Park in Bywater. The Mississippi River gleamed under the orange and red glow. Several people walked along the trail of the popular spot, known for being one of the best places to watch a New Orleans sunset. Boats traversed the mighty river with their lights just visible in the dimming sun.

“What is this place to you?” Grayson asked as he stood next to her gazing out over the water.

“This was where I met him.”

He drew in his brow. “DeChamp?”

“Yep. I was with my girlfriends. We hung out a lot down here. Too young to drink in the bars at the time so we’d ask guys to go and bring us booze and just sit and watch the sunsets.”

“And did they ever say no?”

She raised a brow. “The guys? No.”

Grayson shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “Didn’t think so.”

“Anyway, we’d had a couple that night and were all feeling pretty good. I was only just seventeen and a freshman in college, so it was all pretty new to me. My parents kept Claire and me on the straight and narrow, so I guess you could say I was going through my rebellious stage.” She smiled at the memory and suddenly recalled that Grayson had no idea her parents were long gone. So much of her he still didn’t know.

“And was DeChamp one of the guys who brought you and your friends liquor?” he asked.

“Not him, directly. That was also the night I met Walker Benoit. Lucky me. They waited until we were all pretty drunk and then suggested we go somewhere. So we did.”

“All of you?”

“Uh-huh. We ended up going to this house.” She turned and pointed toward the west. “It was just over there. Old house. I remember it smelled musty and needed a good clean, but there were no parents there and so that made it a place I wanted to be.”

He laid his arm over her shoulders. “Remy, you don’t have to tell me all this if you don’t want to. I’m sure it can’t be easy.”

“You know what, it’s been long enough. I’ve kept all this to myself for so long, it’s done nothing but eat away at my insides.” She looked at him. “I need to get it out.”

He nodded and waited for her to continue.

“So after we got settled in there, I was drawn to Kyle immediately. He was tall, at least that was how I saw him at the time. His hair was light brown, kind of long, and he had a few tats on his arms. Wore a scruffy beard at the time. He looked exactly like the type of man my father would’ve hated. And after that night, we were practically inseparable. My closest friend at the time said I needed to get away from him. Boy, was she right. Of course, what college freshman listens to anyone, huh?”

“None that I’m aware of,” Grayson replied.

“Exactly. So, I fell hard for him, and I think he fell for me too. But after a while, I got to see who he was and what he did. A few months went by and he started with the drugs. At first, I was okay with it. I wanted him to know that I trusted him. Then he started introducing me to his so-called friends. They were just random men, of course. But with the drugs in my system, I hardly cared.”

“My God, Remy.”

“Yeah, I know. And I was one of the lucky ones. Some of the girls didn’t take well to the drugs. Overdosed or got addicted.”

“What made you finally decide to leave and tell the cops?” he asked.

She returned an inquisitive gaze. “You know, I’m not entirely sure. I mean, Claire had a lot to do with it. She called me once after not hearing from me for so long. Begged me to come home. But I kept on even though she tried to get me to leave. I suppose I’d finally had enough after this one guy . . . I won’t go into it, but looking back, I think that was the catalyst. Somehow, I managed to get out of the house. I think I told Walker that I had to see my sister because she was freaking out or something. He didn’t care. Not really. He knew I was Kyle’s girl. He trusted me.”

“So you got out and went straight to the police?”

Remy folded her arms feeling cold even though the October evening was still warm. “I did. I must’ve spoken to at least three of them. It seemed my story was a little too unbelievable for them. It wasn’t until a female detective, Detective Harris, came and talked to me. She believed me. She believed all of it.”

“You saved a lot of girls from harm, Remy,” Grayson said. “That’s something to be proud of. And you’re about to do it again.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I thought it was done, but turns out, Kyle DeChamp wasn’t ready to call it quits.”

Chapter 23

The halfway house wasn’t unfamiliar grounds for Kyle DeChamp, although it was the first time he would be a resident. He’d been reminded of the rules of his parole, regardless that he’d already broken them. He would play the game — for now. Parole officers, at least the ones he knew, didn’t mind a greased palm once in a while to look the other way if he missed an appointment or managed to get someone else to take a urine test for him. DeChamp ran this town. Everyone knew it. Everyone except for the man he’d put in charge. A man who had gotten too big for his britches.

After his first sleep outside the prison walls in nearly fourteen years, DeChamp had awakened refreshed. It was time to get to work, so he readied himself and waited downstairs for his ride. The ever-dependable Walker Benoit had just arrived.

DeChamp stepped outside into the still-muggy morning air and opened the passenger door of Benoit’s Dodge Challenger. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Anytime boss. The house?” he asked.

“You know it. I need to have a sit-down with Sikes. Lay down some ground rules on the way things are going to go from here on out.”

“Sounds good to me. We’ll be there in fifteen.” Benoit pulled away from the curb and headed along the tree-lined street. Willows hung overhead but appeared lethargic in the approaching cooler season. “How was your first night?”

“Slept like a goddam baby, Walker. Like a goddam baby.” DeChamp leaned back against the passenger seat and crossed his arms. “You know what I need now is a phone. Let’s stop at the nearest store so I can get one. Can’t expect people to contact me without a phone.” He looked at him. “These smartphones, what are they like?”

“You’ll definitely want one of those, for sure. You can check your Facebook, your Twitter, all that. Even watch videos on TikTok.”

DeChamp creased his brow. “Christ, I’ve been away too long.”

“Whole damn world’s a different place, boss. I hardly recognize it myself.” Benoit made the pitstop and ran inside to get the phone as requested. He returned and handed over the box to DeChamp. “Here you go, boss. It’s all charged up and ready to go. Got you one of them pay-and-go phones so you don’t have to worry about no bills coming your way. Hope that’s all right.”

DeChamp tore open the box. “It’ll do for now.”

* * *

Gainor returned his phone to his pocket as he went back inside the conference room at the field office. Remy and Agent Montenegro awaited him. “Benoit says they’re heading to the house to meet with Holden Sikes. Should be there inside of ten minutes.”

“We need to get eyes on that house, then,” Montenegro added. “We can get Hawthorne and Caldwell to stake it out. They’re headed in now and have news for us on a few of the folks in DeChamp’s inner circle. Also, it’s time to start thinking about how we integrate Fontaine into this circus act we got going.”

“I know the house,” Remy cut in. “I’ve been there, and I know Sikes. He’s been with DeChamp longer than I’ve known him.”

“I’m not sure now is the right time,” Gainor added. “Bringing you there before DeChamp’s had a chance to get the lay of the land might not set well. Too soon, you ask me.”

Remy crossed her arms. “Fair enough. But what about recon? I know that house like the back of my hand. Let me go there, scope it out. See who comes and goes and report back. Nothing against Agents Hawthorne and Caldwell. I’m sure they know what they’re doing, but this should be me.”

Montenegro smiled. “I like it. She can get close without being seen. A hell of a lot closer than we can. I say go for it.”

Remy looked at Gainor. “Well?”

“You sure you can do this without drawing attention?” he asked.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” she replied.

“Okay. Let’s get it planned.”

This was the entire point of being here, helping these guys put an end to DeChamp once and for all. And this was what Remy was good at. She’d learned a long time ago how to avoid detection. How to learn the habits of those around her to use to her advantage. It had saved her life.

While the team laid out a plan, Remy had a plan of her own. These guys were good, but they didn’t know DeChamp the way she had. So, she bided her time while they laid the groundwork.

“Remy? You good with that?” Gainor asked.

“Fine. Yeah. I’m ready to go right now.”

“Good. Then let’s get you wired and . . .”

“Wait. Wired? Why do I need that? This is strictly a recon mission. See who else shows up. Who else is still loyal to DeChamp. If we’re lucky, maybe we learn if they’re still keeping their victims in that house.”

“Not a chance you’re going in there without a way we can keep in contact. We’re not going to leave you there to fly blind,” Gainor replied.

“And if I get caught, what then?” she asked.

“I thought you said you were good at this?” Montenegro cut in. “Don’t get caught.”

Remy grabbed her things. “I’ll wear an earpiece. Nothing more. You’ll still be able to reach me and vice versa.” She eyed the federal agent. “And I won’t get caught.”

* * *

The move was a bold one. Showing up at DeChamp’s place before he had a chance to see what was going on inside his own organization. But it was the only way to learn who he valued the most. Those were the people he would meet at the outset. And believing Walker Benoit would reveal this intel would be a mistake. Remy could never bring herself to trust that man.

Gainor had just turned onto the street and a wave of regret surged through Remy. Her mind flashed back to a time when she had lived in this very house. How it still operated was beyond understanding. Then again, this was Crescent City, a beautiful place with too many dark secrets and plenty of folks willing to keep them.

As they parked at the end of the street, she could only spy a section of the house, but she remembered the iron fence at the front. She remembered the balcony that was only partially visible now behind a tall tree in need of a trim.

“You okay?” Gainor asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just trying to remember that I’ve volunteered to come here this time. Not the other way around.”

“Damn it, Remy, if you’re not up to this . . .”

“I am,” she shot back. “I’m your best chance at getting eyes on DeChamp and whoever else is inside. I’ll go through the back. It’s lined with tall shrubs to obscure the view from nosey neighbors. There’s an exit to an alleyway out the back as well. That was where he would bring in the girls.” She turned to him and fixed her earpiece into place. “I’m ready.”

“I’ll be around the corner. You keep the lines open and tell me if you need help. I mean it. Don’t go rogue on me, Remy, okay? I can only imagine what you’re harboring toward that man after what he did to you. Don’t jeopardize your life or your career.”

“I get it.” She opened the door. “I’ll be fine.” Remy jumped out of the car and darted toward the alleyway of the street. Her pulse quickened as she recalled this very feeling the night she left that house. But she was older now. Trained. Prepared.

Remy disappeared into the shadows of the trees and shrubs, making her way around back to the narrow alley lined with trash cans. This part of the city was steeped in history. The old homes were well cared for. Some lovingly restored. Still, some remained neglected. DeChamp’s headquarters was one of them. It was hard to imagine how the neighbors hadn’t known what was going on. If they had, shame on them for ignoring it. Well, it was hard to lay blame on people Remy hadn’t known but it was simply because no one had come to her aid when she had needed it and so she’d painted everyone with that same broad stroke, fair or not.

This was it. She’d reached the back of the house she’d escaped from years before. Remy opened the back gate and walked into the overgrown backyard. Live oaks draped in Spanish moss alongside large shrubs consumed the yard. A small path with steppingstones led from the gate to the back of the home. Weeds and wildflowers covered the ground with some dying grasses in between.

She spied the balcony above. All clear. Remy knew DeChamp planned to arrive this morning thanks to their inside man, Benoit. But the timing was uncertain. She would have to lay low until . . . Remy heard a vehicle roll up to the front of the house. “This could be him,” she whispered into her earpiece.

“Copy that,” Gainor replied. “Keep out of sight.”

Of course she would keep out of sight. This wasn’t her first rodeo. But if this was DeChamp, the time had come to move into place. “I’m heading toward the house now.” Remy hugged the tree line and walked in its shadow toward the columns supporting the balcony. With no way in at the back of the house, she would have to carry on toward the side where a door led to a small storage space adjacent to the home. She’d been inside there before. It had been a holding room of sorts. But there was also another way inside through that room via a set of stairs that led directly to the kitchen. It would be a risk to go in that way, but it was possible. The key was to find out how many people were inside before she attempted the feat. “I’m at the entrance to the storage room.”

“You ready to go inside?” Gainor asked.

“I need some idea how many there are. You got eyes on the house now?”

“We do.” Montenegro cut in on her earpiece. “One car. It was Benoit and DeChamp. We’ll have to assume his counterpart, Sikes, is already inside, but right now we don’t know who else might be with him. I’d guess at least two. Be careful, Fontaine.”

“Copy that,” she replied. “Hard to say if any victims are here. I’ll have to take my chances. Fontaine out.” She entered the storage room. It was like a garage but had no garage door. Concrete floor and unfinished walls made of masonry block. Two mattresses and blankets on the ground. “Jesus.”

“What is it?” Gainor asked.

“Nothing. Nothing.” It had been fourteen years and young women were still being trafficked through this house of horrors. What the hell had the cops and FBI been doing all this time? How could this have been allowed to continue?

Remy suddenly regretted coming back here, as though all she’d gone through putting DeChamp behind bars had been for nothing. And maybe this was for nothing too. It was probably worse now because the internet made it so much easier for trafficking. The man had grown more powerful on the inside and here she was, alone in this house again, trying to find a way to take him down once again.

* * *

DeChamp walked inside the home. A high ceiling in the entry drew the eye toward the staircase that led to the second floor. “Place needs a paint job.”

Benoit stood next to him with his hands in his pockets. “Probably so.” He caught sight of the man who’d been at the helm since DeChamp was put away. “There he is.”

DeChamp smiled. “Well, if it isn’t my old friend, Holden Sikes.”

The reedy man with black hair and dark eyes opened his arms. “Holy shit, brother. I can’t believe you’re out.”

“Goddam, look at you.” DeChamp grabbed his hand and pulled him close to pat his back. “Haven’t seen you in months, brother. What the fuck? You didn’t want to come see me anymore?”

“Nah, man. It wasn’t like that. I’ve been busting my balls getting all this shit straight for you. I knew you’d find a way out of that place. And look.” He pulled back and examined DeChamp. “Here you are, Kyle DeChamp, in the flesh.”

“Here I am. So, now that I’m back, it’s time y’all bring me into the fold. None of this 30,000 feet bullshit. I need to know the nitty-gritty. Numbers. Dollars. I need to know all of it.”

“You got it, boss. Why don’t I get you something to drink, yeah?” Sikes started toward the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Can you have a beer?”

“Since when have you known me to follow the rules?” He laughed.

Sikes cast around his gaze. “I don’t see no one who’s gonna say shit about it anyway, brother.” He handed him a beer. “Damn, it’s good to see you.”

“You too.” DeChamp took a long drink. He set the bottle on the kitchen counter. “Now that the niceties are over, it’s time we get down to business.”

* * *

Remy pressed an ear against the wall. “I can hear them. They’re in the kitchen.”

“How many?” Gainor asked.

“A few. Three, maybe four. It’s hard to say.”

“Just wait until they’re clear of the kitchen,” he continued.

“I know.” She stood with her ear still on the wall. Just hearing his voice made her skin crawl. It took every ounce of strength she had not to rush inside with her gun ready and shoot the son of a bitch right in the head. That must’ve been what Gainor warned her about. Ruining her life and all that. Still, it was a nice idea.

Remy needed to learn their plan. Where they met to discuss business and try to figure out if there were any victims here right now. If there were, that might change things. She couldn’t just leave them. Gainor would have something to say on that matter, but she would take it as it came. Right now, her own life was at risk just by being here, so she’d better get some useful information.

The voices diminished, fading as though they were moving. She heard no footfalls. The walls weren’t that thin. But as the voices trailed off, she figured they’d moved on to another room. “Time to go in.”

Remy stepped up to the door and tested the handle. It turned with ease, making it a fairly good assumption that no victims were here at present. They wouldn’t have been so careless to leave the door unlocked if there were. She pushed it open, barely able to peer through, only enough to see the kitchen. The coast was clear and so she opened the door farther and stepped inside. Now was the time to exercise extreme caution. If anyone caught sight of her, they would shoot without hesitation. But the entire reason she was here was because Remy knew this place like the back of her hand. It had been years, but you don’t forget a place like this or what happened inside it.

Through the kitchen and down the hall to the left was a bedroom. She’d been inside that bedroom more times than she cared to remember. But hiding out up there without knowing the location of DeChamp and his people was too much of a risk. “I have to search for them.”

Remy continued through the kitchen and entered the foyer. She peered up at the wood staircase with peeling white paint and worn wood treads. A loft area just above her was where they had gathered back in the day. That had to be where they were now. And when she heard footfalls on the ceiling above her, she knew she was right.

Remy glanced down the hall to the right where another bedroom lay. She wondered who occupied that room now. Was it the man in charge?

Voices sounded above her and grew louder. “Shit. They’re coming.” Remy slipped back into the kitchen and into the storage room, where she returned outside. She hustled through the backyard and pushed open the gate.

She could breathe again. After going back inside that hell hole, this time, Remy had come out unscathed. If she could do that, she could get back at DeChamp. “I’m out. I’m safe.”

“Meet me back where I dropped you,” Gainor replied.

“On my way.” Remy hurried through the alleyway and emerged at the other end of the street. She waited only a few moments for Gainor to show.

He rolled down the passenger window as he pulled up to her. “Get in.”

Remy slipped onto the passenger seat and wiped the sweat from her brow. Not because it was too warm, but because fear had gripped her, and her nerves had taken over.

“So, what’d you find out?” he asked.

She set her eyes on him. “They were meeting in the loft upstairs. There’s a set of French doors leading from that room out onto the balcony. From what I saw, nothing much inside has changed, which is good for us. I got no indication any victims were there.”

“Thank God for that,” Gainor cut in.

“It appeared to have just been DeChamp, Benoit, and the man who’s been running the show in DeChamp’s place, Holden Sikes. DeChamp seemed ready to take the helm and the sooner the better.”

“That might not sit well with Sikes,” Gainor added.

“No, he seemed pretty cozy in his job. You were right about using him to push DeChamp over the edge. I know him. It’ll work. And with Benoit in our corner, I’ll work with him to find out where the next batch will be picked up.”

“Batch?”

“Girls, women. They called them ‘batches’ back in the day. Anyway, once he’s aware I’m in on this, Benoit will do as we ask.”

“And why does it matter to him if you’re involved?” Gainor pressed on.

“Because Walker Benoit knows how DeChamp felt about me. He also knows there’s a strong possibility DeChamp will risk his entire operation to see to it I pay for putting him behind bars. That, Elliot, is why you need me.”

Chapter 24

If Remy had any misgivings as to her decision to join the task force, they’d all but disappeared now. What she’d just done inspired her to complete the mission. She’d gotten one over on the man who’d done terrible things to a lot of people, including her.

They regrouped at the FBI field office and Remy stood at the head of the table, facing the whiteboard. With a dry erase pen in hand, she sketched out the interior of the home she knew all too well. “This is where they were.” She pointed to the second-floor loft. “DeChamp sounded like he was ready to take the reins again, but it was difficult to ascertain whether Sikes was on board with that. I’d like to sit down with Walker Benoit and get a feel for just how receptive he’ll be to my being here.”

“You want to do that, or should we?” Montenegro asked. “We’ve worked with Benoit for months now.”

Remy replaced the pen’s cap and turned around to the agent. “Then he doesn’t trust you enough. It’s been too long for you not to have already built a solid case, enough to have taken down this ring before we even got to the point of DeChamp’s parole. No, Benoit doesn’t trust you. He’s been giving you crumbs.” She looked at Gainor for consensus. “Your thoughts?”

“We’ve all been on this case for a year. But maybe Fontaine’s right. Benoit was closer to DeChamp than anyone except for Sikes.” He turned to Remy. “If that’s the case, what can you do that will earn his trust — and quickly?”

She pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’m not entirely certain Benoit isn’t dragging this out for his own benefit. From what I recall of him, he was always loyal to DeChamp, so something changed on that front for you all to have been able to turn him. Benoit spent three years inside with DeChamp before he was released. A lot could’ve happened in that time.”

“That was still a decade ago,” Montenegro added. “What can you do for us, Fontaine? That’s the real question.”

She eyed the men around the table. Men she respected, men who knew the law. But they didn’t know her or DeChamp, not really. “What I can do is convince Benoit that DeChamp didn’t trust him enough to put him in charge. Instead, he asked Sikes. I’m sure it’s already a point of contention for Benoit, so I’ll remind him of that.”

“And then what?” Gainor continued.

“Then, I tell him, if he gives us more, we agree to lessen the charges when all this is over. It’s the only way he’ll risk his standing with DeChamp. He has to know he won’t spend the next twenty years behind bars when this is over.”

“And you think he’ll believe you?” Agent Hawthorne asked.

“I do. Like I said, he knows me. He’ll see this as the real deal. No more crumbs. By going this route, I’ll have planted the seeds of mistrust inside the organization. Benoit will be wary of DeChamp. He might even turn to Sikes to see what they can do together.” She eyed the men. “This is what you wanted, right? A civil war?”

* * *

Grayson paced the hotel room floor. “You’re sure you want to go through with this?”

Remy stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom. “I’m sure. Once Benoit feels comfortable that he’s getting a deal out of this, he’ll open up.”

“Why hasn’t the task force already done this?”

She turned to him as he now stood in the doorway of the bathroom. “Good question. Like I told them, Benoit’s always been smart. He knows how to keep his head above water, which was why he served only a short stint on the inside and DeChamp got thirty years, even if he did only serve half that. He will see the truth as I present it because he knows that I’m one of the few who truly know Kyle DeChamp.” She set down her hairbrush and approached him. “I can do this, Cole. Elliot might’ve been working with the feds for a year on this, but that’s because Sikes is smart too. These guys have so many people in their pockets, it’s no wonder this case has dragged on like it has. Frankly, I’m surprised it hasn’t been shut down, considering all the outstretched hands DeChamp’s had these past several years.” She checked herself in the mirror again. “Okay. It’s time to go.”

The two of them made their way to the lobby and walked outside. Remy spotted headlights approach. “That must be Gainor.” She checked the time. “Midnight, on the dot.”

“Can’t fault his punctuality,” Grayson said.

She turned to him. “You don’t have to come. You can stay here — waiting inside a car with Gainor while I meet with Benoit won’t be much fun.”

“I want to be there. So long as those task force guys are okay with it. I’ll sit there and keep my mouth shut unless they need me.”

A white Honda Accord pulled up alongside the curb and Remy walked toward it. “Okay, then let’s do this.” She opened the passenger door. “Thanks for the lift.”

Gainor nodded. “Anytime.”

“Hope you don’t mind me tagging along.” Grayson slipped onto the backseat. “I promise to be quiet as a church mouse.”

“Don’t mind at all. Best to have as many guns as we can.” Gainor waited for Remy to shut her door and pulled away from the curb. “Benoit’s waiting for us nearby. Someplace no one would expect him to be.”

“And he knows I’m the one who’s meeting him?” Remy asked.

“No. He thinks it’s Montenegro and me, so this should be a treat for him.” Gainor drove over the bridge to a quieter part of town. He glanced at Remy. “You good?”

“I’m good,” she replied.

“Well, all right, because we’re here.” He turned onto the parking lot of a fast-food restaurant that appeared closed. “He’ll be around the back waiting in his car — I hope.” Gainor drove around the back of the building and spotted Benoit’s Dodge Challenger. “And there he is, right on time.” He pulled to a stop and killed the headlights. “Let me step out and prepare him.”

“Yeah, okay,” Remy replied. Gainor stepped out of the car and she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned back.

“This goes the way you think it will, Hubert might have to fight to keep you at FAU.”

She smiled. “I don’t plan on going anywhere. Not right now.”

Grayson shrugged. “Just saying . . .”

Remy peered through the passenger window and noticed Gainor and Benoit speaking at the side of Benoit’s car. The conversation appeared cordial enough. She wondered what must’ve been going through Benoit’s head right about now. And when Gainor eyed her and waved her over, she was about to find out. “Looks like I’m up.” She opened the door and glanced behind her again. “I’ll be fine.”

Grayson nodded. “I know.”

She approached the men. Benoit kept his gaze fixed on her. “Walker. We meet again.”

“Sure do, Remy. Surprised as shit to see you here. Especially after all that went down in that hotel.”

“What do you know about that, Walker?” she asked.

“That’s not really why we’re here,” Gainor cut in. “Fontaine’s stepping in because of her relationship with DeChamp. It’s time we step this thing up and bring it to an end. Now that he’s out, the time is right.”

“And Remy, here, is gonna see to that?” Benoit set his sights on her. “How you planning on doing that, Remy, huh? You think Kyle’s not expecting you to come back at him now that he’s out?”

“Is he?” she asked.

“He hasn’t said so, but that’s only because he’s catching up on what’s been happening for the past fourteen years.” He held her gaze a moment. “You want my two cents? It’s a mistake, you being here. We could’ve sorted this out without you. You’ll only muddy the waters.”

She darted her gaze between the men. “I disagree, which is why you’re here right now and we’re having this conversation.”

Benoit raised his chin. “Go on.”

“Here’s what I see happening, assuming we have your buy-in,” she began. “First of all, it’s clear DeChamp trusts Sikes a great deal. Handing over the operation must’ve been a tough decision, but since there are others in the mix . . .”

“Others?” Benoit asked.

“Yes. The other two who run their respective regions.”

He cocked his head. “You know more than I thought you did. And yeah, Kyle trusts Sikes with his life.”

“That’s good to hear, but you know, I would’ve thought it was your turn,” she replied.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve been loyal to Kyle for as long as I can remember. I’m just trying to figure out why he’d hand over the reins to Sikes and not you.” Remy shot a glance at Gainor, who appeared mildly impressed.

“Kyle do what he do, you know? I got no problem with that,” Benoit replied. “Got no problem with Sikes either.”

“That’s great. I mean, it would be tough otherwise. But I’m just saying, I’m surprised that’s all. Doesn’t matter. Point is, you gotta give us more, Walker. Who runs the other regions? Does Kyle plan on pulling the rug out from under Sikes? Could make for a bumpy ride if he does.”

Benoit’s lips stretched into a smile. “Don’t you think if I knew any of this, I would’ve said so, Remy?”

“Would you have, Walker? Because it’s been months and nothing’s changed. Except Kyle’s out now. That’ll change a whole lot.”

Benoit wiped his nose and glanced at Gainor before returning his sights to Remy. “I don’t have names, Remy, but I got some information.”

She eyed Gainor a moment. “We’re listening.”

“I know there’s a new batch coming soon,” he said.

“When?” Gainor cut in.

“A few days. Sikes will be out there in the open. DeChamp don’t know about this yet. Maybe you folks can do something about that? I mean, shit. You know, maybe you’re right, Remy. Maybe Sikes has had his day in the sun. Kyle wants things back under one roof. He was already suspicious Sikes stopped visiting him in prison. Didn’t even bother coming with me to pick him up. Kyle will be looking to me to help him out should you take care of Sikes. That’s what you want. Me back at his side, right?”

Remy looked at Gainor. “We could get NOPD to set it up . . .”

Benoit scoffed. “You think NOPD is gonna do shit? Come on now. You know them as well as I do. You think this operation has gone on as long as it has because they’ve been doing their fucking jobs?” He swatted her away.

“It’s better NOPD runs this,” Gainor said. “Keeps us off DeChamp’s radar.”

Benoit raised his brow. “That good enough for you, Remy? No more crumbs. Ain’t nobody know this about to go down. So I get my deal, yeah?”

* * *

In the small hours of the morning, in a dark hotel room, Remy peered into Cole’s eyes as he lay on top of her. For the first time, she’d made love to him not out of a need to fuel her broken heart or bury her emotions, but because she felt complete. She felt in control. He must’ve sensed it too because the way he held her gaze had changed. No pity in his eyes, no disappointment in his smile.

“You’re different now, aren’t you?” he asked.

“I think I can finally see an end to this, Cole. And that I’m the one who will be a part of making that happen.”

He rolled off her and slid his arm under her neck while she snuggled next to him. “It’s still a risk.”

“I get that,” she replied. “But I know how to handle him now — Benoit. I’m prepared for this. It’s the first step to getting on the inside. And Benoit will be the one to let me in. I’m just not sure Elliot’s ready for what lies ahead.”

“What do you mean?”

“He could see that I got the results he and the FBI agents hadn’t gotten for months. I’m not sure he was okay with that.”

“You can’t be worried about hurting the man’s feelings, Remy,” Grayson added. “He’s a big boy too. He can handle it. You just do what you need to do to put an end to this shit. It’s been going on long enough.”

“Yeah, it has.” Her phone lit up on the side table. She turned to see the caller ID and answered. “Tim? What’s going on? Is everything all right?” Remy pulled up in bed and held a sheet over her bare breasts. She felt Cole’s hand on her shoulder as he leaned toward her.

“Remy, I got a call from one of my security team. Christ, I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“Tell me what, Tim?” She glanced back at Cole.

“They’re rushing Mrs. Peña to the hospital. She was shot.”

Remy lost her breath and grew light-headed. “What? What did you just say?”

“What’s wrong?” Cole whispered in the background.

Remy’s eyes blinked hard and fast. “Tim, no. No, you’re wrong.”

“For God’s sake, Remy. I’m so sorry. I had my people looking out for her. She and Miguel were at the house. I kept eyes on that house, I swear to you. We thought we were in the clear, then . . .”

Remy collapsed into tears. “No, oh God, no.”

Cole sat up beside her and lay his hand on her shoulder.

“She’s still alive, Remy. That’s all I know right now. They’re transporting her to Baton Rouge General. Remy, you have to know what this means. You’re not safe,” Tim replied.

“My sister.” She stood from the bed and the sheet fell away, leaving her exposed to the cool air. “Can you check . . .”

“Already done. They’re safe with her husband’s family, just where you left them.”

She placed her hand on her forehead. “How was he able to get to her? I thought you . . .”

“I messed up, Remy. The security lapse is my fault . . .”

She ended the call and stood frozen in place. Naked, terrified, she turned back to Cole. “I have to go home. I have to make sure Claire and Isaiah are safe.”

“What happened, Remy?”

“Max’s mother’s been shot. They’re transporting her to the hospital in Baton Rouge now. Her youngest son was in the house with her, but I have no idea if he was there when it happened.” She dropped to her knees in front of him and covered her face. “How could I let this happen?”

He pulled her up close to him. “Your sister is someplace safe, isn’t that right?”

She nodded. “I thought so, but after this . . .”

“Let your friend handle Claire and her family. You have to stay here,” he replied.

“I can’t. I need to leave. I need to make sure Max’s mom is going to be okay. That Claire’s family will be okay. You don’t understand.”

“I do understand, Remy. If you leave, this won’t end. The time’s come to finish this whether anyone else is ready to or not. If you want that son of a bitch DeChamp out of your life for good, don’t leave.”

“But . . .”

“No. If you leave, he’ll send someone for you. He’ll chase you. He must know what you and Benoit planned. Maybe Benoit told him, and he isn’t the man you thought he was. Remy, listen to me now. We can keep your family safe from here. BRPD, my office, LBI, we have the resources to protect them so long as DeChamp is here.”

“I thought Mrs. Peña was protected and look at what happened?” Her voice fractured beneath her tears that streamed down her cheeks.

“Let me help you do this. Together, we can finish this, Remy. You and me.”

She raised her gaze to him and slowed her sobs. His eyes wore a determination she’d never seen in him before. “What about the task force?”

He shook his head. “They had their chance. No sting operation, no more crumbs from an informant. You know where he is. You know where Kyle DeChamp is right now. We can make this look however we want to make it look, Remy.”

“What are you saying?” She knew what he was saying but somehow needed to hear it from his lips.

“We put DeChamp in a position, in a place he can’t get out of,” Grayson replied. “We’ll bring this to a head — now.”

Chapter 25

It almost felt like the night Max was killed. The pain, anger, and guilt Remy felt that night echoed through her now. Max’s mother was in surgery and Tim had kept her updated on the progress. Staying here in this hotel room with Cole while all this happened tore apart her heart. But he was right. DeChamp had gone after the Peña family, and he might not be finished. It would be Claire or her family next, which was why she’d insisted Tim step up patrols around Billy’s parents’ home.

As Remy stood in the bathroom and splashed water on her face, the call came. She patted her skin with a dry cloth and looked at the phone. With a deep intake of breath, Remy answered. “Claire.”

“Oh my God, Remy. What the hell is happening right now?”

She closed her eyes and her lips trembled. “You and Billy and Isaiah, you’re safe. Tim’s got people watching you.”

“I don’t understand.”

Remy heard the fear in her sister’s voice. It was a sound she hadn’t heard since Remy managed to escape DeChamp years ago. Only it was worse now because Claire had a child, and she knew her sister would do everything in her power to protect that child. “It’s him, Claire. It’s Kyle. He sent someone after Max’s family and they shot his mother.”

“No . . .”

“Claire, please. Just stay inside. Let Tim’s people do what they do, okay? I’m going to take care of this. I swear to you, I will.”

“Don’t do this, Remy,” Claire pleaded.

“I have to. He’s left me with no choice. I should’ve left it alone. When he sent me the letters, I never should’ve gone to see him, or the warden. If I had just ignored it all, maybe this wouldn’t be happening right now. But I didn’t. I’ll have to live with that.”

“What about you?” Claire asked. “Are you safe?”

“I’m taking care of things down here. He doesn’t get to do this again. And Claire . . . I’m so sorry.” Remy ended the call and caught her breath.

The knock on the bathroom door drew her attention. “I’ll be out in a minute.” She peered at the mirror again and wiped her face dry of tears. Alex would hear of what happened soon and he would worry. She had wanted him here more than she knew but putting him in danger wasn’t an option. If she had the strength, she would tell Cole the same thing, that he should leave, but even if she did, he wouldn’t go. So now his life was on the line, same as hers. And if he died too . . .

“Remy, come on out. We need to go through the plan. We won’t have much time.”

She turned at the sound of Cole’s voice and opened the bathroom door. He looked at her with a mixture of sympathy and fear. Like he believed this was going to change everything. And he was probably right.

* * *

Dawn arrived and when the call came in from Tim, Remy sat on the edge of the bed and answered. “How is she?”

“She’s out of surgery, Remy. Doctors say she’ll recover.”

Relief swept through her body. “Thank God. And Claire’s family?”

“I’ve got eyes on them twenty-four seven. They’re safe. I promise you,” Tim replied. “You need to come home. Let the FBI handle this and get the hell out of New Orleans, Remy. You don’t need to be there, and you should never have been put in this position.”

“I can’t come home, and I think you know that. He won’t stop and there will always be a target on my back and my family’s, at least until this is over. I’m going to make sure this ends. Thank you for everything, Tim. I don’t blame you for what happened. You should know that much. DeChamp knows everything. He must. Neither of us could’ve predicted that.”

“I’ll always be here for you, Remy. Max was my best friend, and I’m going to have to accept my part in the security lapse. But know this, he loved you. I won’t let him down again by not making sure I’m doing everything I can to keep his family — and yours — safe. Just do me a favor? Stay alive, Remy.”

“I’ll be in touch. Goodbye, Tim.” She set down her phone and looked at Grayson. “Everyone’s safe. Max’s mom is going to be okay.”

“Thank God,” he replied.

“So, it’s time, right?” she asked.

He wore a closed-lip smile. “It’s time.”

Remy grabbed her weapon that lay on the desk next to the credenza. She strapped on the holster and secured it. “We have about an hour before he leaves the halfway house.” A knock came on the hotel room door, and she shot a look at Grayson. “I told him to meet us there.”

“No, that can’t be Benoit. He doesn’t know we’re here.” He walked to the door and peeked through the security lens. “Ah, shit.” He opened the door. “Chasse, what the hell are you doing here?”

Alex pushed inside. “Remy, where is . . .” As he continued in, he spotted her. “I’m so sorry, Remy.”

“What are you doing here, Alex? You can’t be here,” she replied.

“I left as soon as word reached me about Mrs. Peña. Hubert called me. I have no idea how he knew . . .”

“Hubert knew the Peña family was going to need protection the moment I arrived here, so he must’ve had BRPD keep eyes out. Guess they were too late,” she replied.

“I knew you’d tell me not to come, but no way was I going to let you do this alone, Remy. I knew you’d try to stop him.” Alex glanced between Remy and Grayson. “That’s the plan, isn’t it? You’re going to stop DeChamp, consequences be damned.”

“Go home, Alex. Please.” Remy snatched the keys from the desk. “I don’t want you involved in this.”

“To hell with that. What’s the plan?”

* * *

Walker Benoit tossed aside his cigarette and narrowed his gaze toward the rising sun as a car approached. He stood out front of the Lafayette Cemetery in the 11th Ward. Steam rose from the streets as the sun evaporated puddles of water on the asphalt, left over from an earlier rain. He approached the SUV as it rolled to a stop alongside the curb.

The passenger window rolled down and he saw Remy inside.

She eyed him. “He’s still there, but you’re running out of time. Get in.”

Benoit opened the back door and stepped inside. “Who the hell are you?”

“Agent Alex Chasse. I’m Remy’s partner.” He pointed to Cole. “That’s Deputy US Marshal Grayson.”

Benoit closed his door. “Well goddam. Guess none of y’all give a shit about your jobs, huh? Never seen nobody willing to risk it all to take down one man.”

Remy shifted the gear into Drive. “One man who’s hurt a lot of people. And I’m one of them.” Grayson drove on toward the halfway house as Remy continued. “I just need to know one thing, Walker, you’ve been loyal to Kyle for a long time. How do I know you haven’t tipped him off?”

He glared at her through the rearview and licked his thin lips. “The LBI and FBI and whatever other fucking acronym they got . . . y’all promised me if I helped that I wouldn’t go back. I ain’t going back. If that ain’t enough for you, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Things have changed now,” Grayson cut in. “DeChamp made sure of that. Only those of us inside this car know what’s about to go down. We’re on our own.” He stopped about a block from the halfway house and cut the engine.

“We’re here.” She peered over her shoulder at Benoit. “You’ll go knock on the door, just like he expects. Lead him this way. Tell him you couldn’t find a closer parking spot and that your car is just ahead. We’ll take care of the rest.”

Benoit opened the rear passenger door. “As long as I ain’t the one pulling the trigger, I got no qualms. And not for nothing, Remy, but Kyle shouldn’t have gone after your people like that. Can’t say this wasn’t his own damn fault.”

He stepped out and closed the door. Benoit started along the sidewalk and walked away from the SUV and toward the halfway house. The door was just ahead, and he knocked. When it opened, a man stood before him dressed in long basketball shorts and a tank top. “DeChamp ready yet? I’m here to pick him up.”

“Come in.” The man stepped aside.

Benoit continued in and shoved his hands in the pockets of his sagging jeans. “Yo, Kyle, you here?”

A creak sounded on the nearby stairs and captured Benoit’s attention.

“I’m here.” DeChamp continued downstairs and reached the living room. “You’re a little early, brother.”

“I was gonna stop and pick up some decent coffee, but I didn’t give myself enough time, so I went ahead and came on over.” Benoit eyed him. “You ready to hit the road or what?”

DeChamp nodded to the man in the tank top and waited for him to leave the room. “Sure thing, man. I’m ready.”

Benoit turned on his heel and headed to the front door again. He felt DeChamp drawing up behind him and stopped cold. With his back to DeChamp, he asked, “How’d you find out?”

DeChamp slung a wire around Benoit’s neck and yanked back. “You stupid fucker. You think I don’t have the feds in my pocket too?”

“Ducane.” Benoit tried to pry his fingers between the thin wire and his neck. “I’m sorry, man.” His voice strained.

“I trusted you, Walker.” DeChamp pulled harder. “Are they here? They coming to kill me now?”

Benoit writhed as he tried to pull away from DeChamp, but the man was much stronger, and against his willowy frame, he didn’t stand a chance. “Stop, man. Stop! I can still help you.”

“The hell you say.” DeChamp yanked again on the wire and saw the blood trickle down Benoit’s neck. “Die, you son of a bitch.” He maintained a tight grip and heard Benoit’s voice fade and his grunts slow. His arms fell to his sides, and soon, Benoit went limp.

DeChamp lay him down on the floor and peered at his face. Bulging eyes, blue lips, and blood that covered his neck. “You fucked up, my old friend.”

* * *

Remy glanced through the sideview mirror. “He should’ve come out by now. Something’s wrong.”

Grayson turned his sights to her and then back to Alex. “I’m getting the same feeling. You think Benoit turned on us?”

“No,” Remy cut in. “He would’ve done this to get out once and for all.” She swallowed hard. “Kyle knew. He knew Walker was working with us. Shit.” Remy opened her door.

“Where the hell are you going?” Alex asked.

“He’s in trouble.”

“Remy, don’t!” Grayson snatched her by the arm as she tried to step out. “We have to go. If DeChamp knows, if he did something to Benoit, then we’ve lost our advantage. We can’t have some goddam shootout here in the streets, you get that, right?”

She pressed her lips together until they turned white and stared at his hand on her arm. Anger heated her face. Remy knew he was right. It was too late for Benoit.

“No way DeChamp’s coming out of that house now, Remy,” Alex cut in. “You have to know that. We can’t bust in and gun him down. Grayson’s right. We have to regroup. Benoit’s gone.”

Grayson released her arm and Remy dropped her head. “I have to end this now, Alex. He’ll come after me. He’ll come after my family.”

“I get that. But not like this. We had a plan, and as risky as it was, it can’t happen now. So we need to find another solution.”

“How the hell did he figure out Benoit was working against him?” she shot back. “All this time and now . . . now the son of a bitch figures it out?” She turned back to Alex. “No, I don’t buy it. Look, he can’t get rid of Benoit before we can have NOPD at that door to arrest him. It’s our only shot.”

“You want him to go back to prison?” Grayson asked. “Because that’s what’ll happen, and we’ll be in the same boat as before.”

Remy closed her eyes a moment and her mind flashed back to when she lived at that house. When Kyle controlled her every move. Right now, it was pretty clear Benoit’s life had ended, and that his body lay inside that halfway house. “No, the time to act is now.” She jumped out of the passenger seat and marched toward the home, checking her weapon in the process.

She heard footsteps behind her as Grayson and Alex hurried to catch up. “Don’t either one of you try to stop me. I swear to God. A dead man is inside that home. This is my chance to stop Kyle.”

“Remy, please,” Grayson said. “Let NOPD handle this then. If this is what needs to happen, let them do it.”

“Not if there’s a chance he has them in his pocket too. Screw that.” Remy pushed on. “This ends where it began — with me and Kyle.”

The house came into view and Remy’s heart raced. A raid on this place would send shockwaves through the city. NOPD would show up fast. Who knew how many parolees were inside? They would be dangerous people, but hopefully, unarmed. She just wanted Kyle. And now, almost certain Benoit was dead, she’d get him. Sending him back to prison wasn’t her first choice, but her first choice was dead.

“Remy, stop!” Alex caught up to her. “You don’t want to wait for backup, fine. But you aren’t going in there alone. Grayson and I are with you.”

She stopped and turned to them. “Okay, we surround the place. Guard the front and rear exit. Kyle will already be looking for a way out, if he hasn’t found one already. I’ve wasted too much time as it is.”

“I’ll take the back,” Grayson said.

“I’ll stay with Remy at the front,” Alex added. “Let’s do this and do it fast.”

Remy nodded and continued to the front door. “LBI, open the door.” She pounded the side of her fist against it. “Kyle, open the door now!” She cast up her gaze to see if any windows were open. Grayson had already jogged around toward the back and hopped the fence. “Open the goddam door, now!”

The handle turned and caught her attention. As the door slowly opened, the man in the tank top stood on the other side.

“LBI.” Remy peered in. “Kyle? You can’t get away. Not this time.”

Gunshots erupted and Remy watched the man’s eyes widen. “Shit!” She pushed inside and saw Benoit’s body on the living room floor. “Where is he? Where is he?” She turned to Alex. “Stay here.” Remy hurried through the narrow two-story toward the back where the kitchen lay. A door was just ahead, and it was open. “No.” She sprinted through and spotted Grayson on the concrete step at the bottom. “Cole!”

“I’m okay.” He clutched his right shoulder. “Son of a bitch has a gun. Grazed my shoulder. I’ll be fine. He took off, Remy. It’s over.”

Remy peered out into the distance. “The hell it is.”

Chapter 26

Remy’s footfalls and labored breathing echoed in her ears as she raced to the front of the home. The morning light shone in her eyes, but on glimpsing ahead, she spotted DeChamp headed east. Behind her, Grayson called out for her to stop. Ignoring the demand, Remy navigated through the bystanders who blocked her path, pushing some away. Apologies could be issued later. For now, DeChamp had the advantage. He knew he’d been betrayed and if she let him disappear, he would go dark and never be heard from again.

Sirens wailed in the distance. She was about to lose him to the cops and maybe that was how this was supposed to end, not for her, but for DeChamp. Her aching legs pumped harder as she gained ground. “Kyle, stop!”

DeChamp bulldozed an elderly man and knocked him to the ground. She came up on him and slowed just a fraction. “I’m sorry, sir. The police are coming. Stay there!” His ploy to stop her wasn’t going to work. Remy placed her hand on the butt of her gun. She could shoot him. She had the chance. Even as more people arrived and sirens grew near, the notion of taking him down right now consumed her. She had only seconds before he reached the corner and disappeared. Remy picked up speed and yanked the gun from its holster. “Kyle, stop! I’ll shoot. I swear it!”

He made a hard right at the end of the street. Seconds behind, Remy arrived at the same corner and slowed to a jog. She scanned the area with her gun aimed. People screamed and threw their hands in the air. Remy spun in a circle in search of any clue as to where he’d disappeared. “Kyle!” she yelled. The sun burned her eyes and spots formed in her line of sight. Fighting for breath, she grew dizzy in her desperate search.

A squad car screamed to a stop at the curb in front of her. The lights and sirens pierced her ears and eyes. Remy’s vision blurred as a figure in black raced toward her.

“Agent Fontaine? Agent Fontaine, are you okay?” The officer hurried to her side and gripped her shoulders. “I got you.”

She tried to steady herself, but her knees buckled. “I lost him. I lost him.”

* * *

Inside the FBI field office, Remy peered through the window of Agent Montenegro’s office. “I told you he would go after the people I cared about.” She turned back to see Gainor alongside the federal agent at his desk. Alex and Grayson flanked the doorway, looking like bouncers at a bar. Grayson’s arm had been stitched and blood stained his white button-down. “He killed Benoit. He tried to kill Grayson. What choice did I have but to go after him?”

Gainor aimed his index finger at her. “You weren’t supposed to be there, Remy. We agreed with Benoit the night before that he would step things up with DeChamp. Plant the seed that his buddy, Sikes, was going against him.” He approached with a narrowed gaze. “That’s how this shit works. We get them to turn on each other. Instead, you wanted to take him out yourself.”

Anger heated her face. “What I’d like to know is how the hell DeChamp discovered Benoit was working with us. None of this would’ve happened otherwise.” She glanced at Grayson and Alex, knowing that their plan had veered far from what Gainor and the task force wanted. Their plan was to kill DeChamp and make it look as though it had been payback from one of his own. If that came to light, they’d be having an entirely different conversation that would’ve likely seen Remy in a holding cell. Turned out, she wasn’t meant to be one of the good guys after all. Too much had happened in her life. She’d convinced her partner and a man she might love to risk their careers and lives. The notion sickened her, and she balled her hands into fists and glared at Gainor. “DeChamp had someone shoot the mother of my dead partner. You did this, Elliot. You set the animal free.”

“All right.” Grayson stepped between them. “This isn’t helping anyone. DeChamp got wind his right-hand man was a snitch, so unless he had eyes on you when you talked with Benoit, someone else knew and told him. That’s the situation we’re facing right now. And Remy’s the one who now has to protect her family in Baton Rouge.”

“We?” Gainor asked. “I hadn’t realized the US Marshals had joined our task force.”

Remy raised her hands. “Look, we can all agree that someone told DeChamp about Benoit. It probably wasn’t Sikes. Benoit had been working with him for a long time. If Sikes suspected him before, Benoit would’ve been dead a long time ago. So who else is there who was close enough to DeChamp to relay that information?”

Alex took a step forward. “There’s only one person I know who could’ve had access to what this task force had planned and who doesn’t care much for the LBI.”

Remy turned to him. “Ducane.”

“Special Agent Adam Ducane?” Montenegro asked. “Are you serious right now?”

“How hard would it have been to find out I was here and had been brought into your investigation, into the ring? He works in this damn office,” Remy replied.

“I don’t buy it.” Montenegro stood from his desk chair. “You don’t go after your own.”

Remy eyed Alex. “He came after us once.”

“Wait.” Gainor raised his hands. “What do you mean he came after you once?”

“We were in a safe place, we thought, and Ducane exposed our location,” Remy replied. “So, this isn’t the first time he’s attempted payback.”

“Okay, say you’re right about this,” Montenegro cut in. “And I’m still not convinced, but if he told DeChamp, then what? Are you saying he arranged for his escape from the halfway house? He picked up DeChamp off the street when you went after him?”

Remy regarded him. “Maybe not him directly, but that’s what we have to find out.”

* * *

Walker Benoit was dead. DeChamp was again on the run. And now Remy had to face facts. “I know what I asked of both of you and I’m sorry.” She examined her injured partners as they returned to her hotel room and awaited the task force’s next steps, unsure whether any of it would involve her after this morning. “I did this to you both and it never should’ve gotten this far out of hand.”

“Look, Remy, we all agreed to the plan,” Grayson said. “It didn’t work out, but no one has to know how that plan was supposed to end.”

“I can’t live with that, Cole, and I doubt either one of you could either.” Remy closed her eyes a moment. “I’m not who I thought I was. Maybe this whole time I’ve denied it, thinking my every decision was in the interest of justice. But my interests should’ve been in the law. Justice was not mine to dole out. I have no right to wear a badge.” Her eyes stung as the reality of her actions set in. “Please, just go back to Baton Rouge. Both of you. I know my sister and her family are safe with Billy’s parents. And Mrs. Peña will be watched while she’s in the hospital. I can’t worry about you two. I have to stay and finish this with Gainor. I’ll do that and then I’ll tell Hubert everything.”

Alex set his sights on her. “Remy, no. Cole’s right. We all agreed to the plan. We all know the kind of man DeChamp is and what he’s done to you and countless other victims.”

“Come on, Alex. Vigilante justice isn’t your thing. It’s not Cole’s either.” She glanced at him a moment. “I’ll work with Gainor and Montenegro. They’ll see we’re right about Ducane. But if I don’t finish this, I’m not sure anyone around me will be safe.”

* * *

Remy returned to the FBI field office alone as midday arrived. Her career was effectively over. She could accept that, but she wouldn’t see Alex or Cole pay the price for her actions. With reluctance, they agreed to return to Baton Rouge. It felt like the end of everything, including her relationship with Cole. Turned out, DeChamp got exactly what he wanted. Retribution in the form of eliminating everything Remy loved. Her job, her partner, the man she cared deeply for. It was all gone. All that remained was her determination.

“I got hold of Agent Ducane’s schedule,” Montenegro began. “He’s due back here at two p.m.” He eyed Remy and Gainor. “I’ll need you two someplace else so I can have a word, get a feel for the situation, assuming he doesn’t suspect me. After all, he knows I’m on this task force, so that, in itself, could present a problem.”

“In your gut, do you think it’s possible he’s arranged for DeChamp to go into hiding?” Gainor asked him.

“At this point, it’s too hard to say. If DeChamp crawls out from whatever rock he’s under right now, the NOPD will be all over him. Even they can’t turn a blind eye to a dead informant. Internal Affairs will be so far up their asses; it won’t be worth it for them. So going back to Ducane, if he is hiding DeChamp, it’ll be the end of his career. I have no idea if he would’ve taken that kind of risk because he has a grudge against Fontaine and her partner, Chasse.”

“I wouldn’t put it past Ducane to get rid of the man, himself,” Remy replied.

“That would solve everyone’s problem, then, wouldn’t it?” Montenegro reached for the file on his desk. “Still, if you’re right, and I’ll find out soon enough, let’s not underestimate Ducane. He’ll protect himself. Now, go. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”

Remy headed toward the door of Montenegro’s office and stepped into the hall. Gainor joined her and she reached for his shoulder. “Elliot, I know things haven’t gone the way we’d hoped. And I know you have a lot at stake with this task force. But if we can set aside all that’s happened, I think there’s still something we can do while Montenegro puts together the pieces.”

Gainor raised his chin. “It’s been a real shitshow, Remy, but I’ll agree to a fresh start. So, what’s your plan?”

She nodded toward the exit and started ahead while Gainor trailed. “Here’s what I’d like to do. I believe DeChamp will try to make contact with Holden Sikes. He’ll want to smooth things over knowing Sikes will have heard the news about Benoit by now. DeChamp needs this operation to continue, and I think he’ll try to put in place a plan that keeps Sikes at the helm and keeps money flowing to himself while he’s safely taken out of play — for the time being. His operation isn’t the only piece of the puzzle, as you well know. He’ll have allies willing to help him.”

“What do you want to do, Remy?” Gainor cut in.

“Find Sikes and talk to him before DeChamp does.”

* * *

Gainor rolled to a stop a block away from the house Remy knew to have been the headquarters of DeChamp’s operation, and a place she had escaped twice now. “What makes you think you’ll get in without being shot on sight?”

From the passenger seat, Remy turned to him. “I don’t know Sikes well. I did see him in passing and that was about it. He doesn’t know me well either, but I can guarantee you, he knows what I did to DeChamp and that it was ultimately his lucky break. At this point in the game, he won’t do anything without DeChamp’s approval, not with Benoit gone and knowing the serious heat now on his boss. My hope is that they haven’t talked yet today. So, I’ll go in and tell him what I know. What DeChamp’s planning and how Sikes fits into the equation.”

“And what if they have talked?”

“Then I’ll have to think on my feet.” Remy stepped out onto the fractured sidewalk and turned back to Gainor. “Don’t worry, I’m good at that.”

If she was wrong in her assessment of Holden Sikes, her return wasn’t likely. As large as this operation was, a fugitive hunter for the State of Louisiana wasn’t exactly a high-value target, and she had nothing to offer him. Disappearing her would be as easy as disappearing their many victims.

Remy kept her head down and walked on toward the house. Within moments, it appeared ahead, and that old familiar sickness in her stomach churned. Her only choice was to push through the fear and doubt that ran rampant in her mind. Although Gainor was nearby, he would never arrive in time if Sikes decided he wasn’t in the mood to listen. And he wouldn’t be alone. Security would be everywhere. So Remy had to be sure she was ready to die for this because that was a very likely proposition. At this point, knowing what awaited her, maybe that was okay.

She reached the gate that led to the front door and swallowed her fear. “You can do this. You have to.” Remy stepped through and made her approach, knowing eyes were already on her. She felt them. The good news? She was still breathing.

Just as she reached the door, it opened, and a man stood on the inside. Remy noticed his gun at his hip, suspicion on his face. “Morning. I’m here to see Sikes.”

“Who the fuck are you?” He placed his hand on the butt of his gun and knitted his brow as he stared at her.

“Remy Fontaine. An old friend of Kyle’s. I need to talk to Sikes. He’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

“Is that so?” The large man sneered and suddenly drew in his brow. “Do I know you?”

“I doubt it. Kyle knows me pretty well and he’s out of pocket right now, so I don’t think he can vouch for me. Are you going to let me see Sikes or what?”

He eyed Remy up and down. “You got a mouth on you, huh?” He turned back a moment and peered up at the staircase. Finally, he returned his attention. “Come in. I’ll see if he feels like talking, but I’ll be taking that fine sidearm you got on you.”

As Remy handed over her weapon, another man approached from behind and grabbed her arm.

“Don’t worry about him,” the man replied. “He’s going to keep an eye on you while I tell Mr. Sikes you’re here.” He lumbered up the staircase and disappeared beyond the hall.

She knew that hall and knew where it led. Her heart raced in her throat and all she could hear were DeChamp’s words to her in that prison, promising how he’d become more powerful thanks to her. Within moments, the man was heading back down the steps.

“He says he can spare a minute, but that’s all you got.” He reached the bottom step. “And if you can’t convince him not to shoot you in that time, you might just leave here alive, Remy Fontaine.” He waved her over. “Follow me.”

This was it. This was her chance to convince Holden Sikes that DeChamp had every intention of killing him to take back what was his. Whether it would result in his cooperation remained unknown. That was where she’d have to play the part to the best of her abilities.

Remy was led inside the loft where a couple of desks sat head to head. A few filing cabinets lined the walls along with a folding table. The room didn’t look like she remembered. Of course, she’d been out of it for the most part, but this still looked different from when DeChamp ran things. More organized, if she was being honest. Maybe Sikes was the real reason this ring continued to grow and thrive, not Kyle DeChamp.

Holden Sikes stood from behind his desk. Well dressed in a button down and dress pants, his shirt could barely contain the body that bulged beneath it. “Remy Fontaine.”

She knew then he was all too aware of her, and what she’d done. “Mr. Sikes. I work for the Louisiana Bureau of Investigation. I’m an FAU agent. I hunt fugitives.”

“Is that so?” He continued toward her, his eyes consuming her entire body. “And who might you be hunting right now, Agent Fontaine?”

“I’ve come here to warn you about Kyle DeChamp. He should’ve been here with you this morning, isn’t that right?” She noticed his gaze dart away for just a moment.

He raised his chin and cocked his head. “Warn me? I figured you were here to arrest me.”

“No, sir. That’s not my job.”

“Ah, I see.” He nodded. “Your job is to hunt Kyle, but he isn’t a fugitive. He was just released on parole, so you must’ve been given some bad intel, Agent Fontaine.”

“I don’t think so. I’ll be honest with you, Mr. Sikes, I’ve known Kyle for most of my life. We were close once.”

“I’m aware,” he replied.

“That was a long time ago. Now, however, I know that it’s Kyle’s intention to take back the reins of this organization and see to it you no longer play a role in it.”

Sikes rubbed his chin and wore a crooked smile. “And given your history with Kyle and what you do for a living, I’m supposed to believe you?”

“Well, Mr. Sikes, if you don’t, you’ll find out for yourself that Kyle has his own agenda. Walker Benoit is dead, and you’re next.”

Chapter 27

Even as Remy walked out of the house and onto the street, part of her believed she might still end up with a bullet in her back. It was exactly the kind of risk Alex would’ve insisted she shouldn’t take, so it was a good thing he wasn’t here. It was all she could do to walk a straight path and keep from glancing over her shoulder. Once she turned the corner and spotted Gainor’s car, the weight lifted from her shoulders and Remy could breathe again. She opened the passenger door and stepped inside, immediately sensing Gainor’s eyes burrowing into her skull. “Just give me a minute.”

He turned the engine. “You’re still alive. That’s a good sign. What did he say?”

Remy waited for him to pull away, to just get the hell out of that neighborhood. And when he reached the main road, she peered at him. “He didn’t know about Benoit. Or at least, he pretended not to know. It’s safe to say he and DeChamp haven’t spoken yet. That said, he agreed to find out where DeChamp was holed up so long as he’s not in our crosshairs.”

“And the Ducane situation?” Gainor asked. “What’s his take on that?”

“He knows Ducane well, apparently. So between the federal agent and NOPD, it doesn’t come as much of a surprise that this operation has had continued success.”

“How did you leave things?” Gainor continued.

Remy gazed out through the passenger window. “I’ll wait to hear back from him. He’ll arrange it so we can catch up to DeChamp, but if we go after Sikes directly, all of us will be in his crosshairs.”

“I don’t want to go back to the field office, not until we hear from Montenegro. I’d much rather he get the truth from Ducane and use his intel to find DeChamp rather than rely on someone like Holden Sikes to bail us out,” Gainor replied. “In the meantime, we’ll sit tight at my place.”

* * *

The four-story building in Mid-City was Elliot Gainor’s temporary home. He opened the door to the one-bedroom condo on the third floor and stepped inside. “If you want something to drink, I have bottled water and maybe some pop. Help yourself.” He tossed his keys into a bowl on the living room side table.

“You’ve been living here during this entire case?” Remy asked.

“It’s close to everything — Downtown, the field office, LBI’s satellite office. It’s not much, but yeah, it’s been home for a while.”

The place wasn’t much to look at, but then Remy was no interior designer. It didn’t look far off from the décor she might find in a Super 8. “Can I ask you something?”

Gainor opened his refrigerator. “Sure.”

“The task force knew what was happening inside that house. You’ve been on this case for what, more than a year?”

“That’s right.” He grabbed two bottles of water and returned to hand one to Remy.

“I don’t understand why I’m even here. Why this case has dragged on the way it has. Frankly, it’s been going on in some form for fourteen years. Surely, NOPD doesn’t have that kind of power to divert the feds attention for that long, even with a suspected inside man.”

Gainor took a seat on his sofa. “You’re right. The feds stayed relatively hands-off until it became known that DeChamp had been part of a larger ring, then they suddenly became very interested. And DeChamp’s parole hearing gave us an opportunity to start a civil war inside the organization. People would take sides. Other parts of the organization would step in and we would figure out their role and the people who ran it. The goal was to shut it all down, Remy. Not just DeChamp, or his piece of the puzzle. All of it, and we were close.” He took a sip of water. “I don’t think it was ever supposed to involve you, but DeChamp made sure he dragged you into this kicking and screaming. I’m just sorry as hell the people you care about have been impacted by this.”

Remy was beginning to see Gainor in a different light. The elusive FAU agent had initially been standoffish — cold, even. Maybe he wasn’t that man after all. Maybe he understood what was at stake for her. “Listen, uh . . .” Her phone rang with an incoming call, and on retrieving it, she noted the caller ID displayed unknown.

“Everything okay?” Gainor asked.

She answered. “Agent Fontaine here.”

“You sound so formal.”

Remy knew the voice and she raised her eyes to meet Gainor.

He must’ve picked up on her meaning because he pulled up to the edge of the sofa and set his sights on her.

“Kyle. How’d you get my number?” Remy asked.

“You still have friends here, Remy. And maybe a few enemies, too. That was some crazy shit this morning, huh? How’s your Deputy Marshal boyfriend doing? I took it easy on him just for you. I figured you’d been through enough, you know?”

“What do you want, Kyle? A lot of people are looking for you. You calling to turn yourself in?” Remy pointed at her phone and mouthed. “Trace it.”

Gainor shrugged and raised his palms, helpless to do anything.

She closed her eyes and knew it was an impossible ask. They had no resources here. No time.

“It’s good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor, girl. So, listen, about you thinking you got Sikes on your side. It was a nice try, Remy, but you didn’t think he’d go for that, did you? You take me out, and the only person who’s standing between him and prison is you. He’s smart. You won’t get him to turn on me because he knows he’ll end up behind bars. With that pretty face of his, he wouldn’t last a month and he knows it.”

She rubbed her forehead. “Ducane won’t protect you, Kyle. Not for long, anyway. And not if it puts his career in jeopardy.”

“Assuming you can prove any of what you’re saying,” he replied. “Here’s how it’s going to play out, Remy. And I want you to listen carefully. Walk away. Let the feds handle this because see, with you hanging around, all you’re doing is getting people hurt and killed. Just like you got that sweet old señora hurt. I don’t imagine you’d want to have anyone else in that family hurt, now would you? Don’t think they could take it after what you did to your old partner.”

She clenched her fist. “You won’t get away again, Kyle. Not as long as I’m breathing.”

“Well, then, maybe we’ll have to change that.”

The line went dead, and she looked at her phone. “He’s gone. He hung up.”

“Jesus, Remy. How the hell was he able to contact you directly?” Gainor asked.

“Sikes.” She returned her phone to her pocket. “Sikes told him. I don’t know how. Maybe Ducane facilitated it, but regardless, he told DeChamp the plan. So, I guess we don’t have a plan anymore. We’ll have to go to him directly.”

“Who?” Gainor asked.

“Ducane. Regardless of what Montenegro discovers, we both know it’s Agent Ducane who’s helping DeChamp. I don’t care if we can’t prove it at this point. We have to find him.”

Gainor grabbed his phone. “I’ll make the call.”

* * *

Agent Montenegro awaited them at a park along the waterfront in Uptown. The late afternoon sun hid behind thick clouds. And as Remy stepped out of Gainor’s car, the earthy smell of approaching rain surrounded her. “I see him. Just ahead on that bench.”

“Got it. Let’s go see what he has to say.” Gainor started on.

Montenegro stood on their arrival and shoved his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. “I hope to hell y’all are right about this.”

“You still have doubts?” Remy asked.

“I don’t have proof and that gives me pause.” He handed over a slip of paper. “This is his primary residence.”

“And there’s another?” Gainor asked.

“Yes. He has a place nearby, which was why I chose this spot. An apartment. The only reason I found it was because Ducane had been issued a parking citation in front of the building last year. I got curious about it, and while the citation was closed out, I took a drive by the place and found his car in the parking garage. Figured he had a reason for being here. Searched property records and found his name.”

“He’s there now?” Remy asked.

“He was as of about thirty minutes ago. The guy’s single, so he doesn’t have any other reason to have a place here unless he used it to meet with unsavory folks who appreciated his insights. Now, whether he has DeChamp there I have no idea. It would be a huge risk for him, especially since I was able to get the address fairly easily. Course, Ducane’s the type of fella who thinks his shit don’t stink. Arrogant, above the law type.”

Remy gazed out over the river. “I won’t underestimate him or Kyle DeChamp. I’ve had too many run-ins with both to know better. I want to go to the apartment, but let’s assume Ducane will be prepared for anything.”

“Then I’ll drive,” Montenegro replied. “Son of a bitch doesn’t get to fly in the face of the Bureau with what he’s been doing.”

“What if he doesn’t have DeChamp? We don’t have anything else on him,” Gainor replied.

Remy raised her index finger as she started back toward Montenegro’s car. “That’s not entirely true. I called in a favor from Valencic. He got us a copy of the prison logs prior to DeChamp’s release.”

“And?” Montenegro asked.

“I have proof Ducane visited Kyle on more than a few occasions. My guess is, that was how he learned that the ring was still operating and then he knew I would be at the parole hearing. It’s all led up to this. He’s been feeding DeChamp information. So, you wanted proof? I have proof he’s connected to DeChamp. We’ll have to see if it’s enough.”

Montenegro unlocked his car. “Well done, Agent Fontaine. Let’s get over to his place before he figures this out.”

Remy slipped onto the plush beige leather seat of Montenegro’s Cadillac sedan while Gainor got into the back. “Nice car,” she said. “Didn’t realize FBI agents made the kind of money you’d need to buy one of these.”

“No?” He pressed the ignition. “Maybe you should learn a thing or two about the Bureau. You might find it suits you.”

She glanced back at Gainor. “You hear that?”

“I heard.” Gainor smiled. “One thing at a time, Fontaine.”

Montenegro headed toward Ducane’s apartment. “So tell me, why is Ducane hell-bent on making sure DeChamp gets clear of all this? Why does he give two shits about this case?”

She regarded him a moment. “It’s a long story and one he’s got completely wrong. But somehow, I think he must have always been a bad apple. You don’t just turn on other law enforcement the way he did. I don’t know, but he’s come after me and my partner pretty hard in the past.”

“Guess you got too close to him this time, huh?” Montenegro headed right down the next block and slowed his approach. “That’s the building ahead, red brick. I’ll stop here.”

Remy eyed the tall building that must’ve housed at least fifty units. A ball formed in the pit of her stomach as she considered the consequences of what could happen in the next several minutes. “All I wanted was for Kyle DeChamp to spend the rest of his life behind bars. I didn’t know that all of this was still happening. It wasn’t supposed to be that way.”

“We tried,” Gainor cut in. “It doesn’t always work within the parameters of the law.” He placed his hand on her shoulder as he sat in the backseat. “We can keep watch here. Set up an operation to learn if DeChamp is in there. I’m just saying . . . it doesn’t have to be us alone up there.”

“No.” She peered back at him. “You’re right. That’s why it’s going to be me. I’m going in alone, Elliot. I’m sorry, but it has to be this way.” She cast down her gaze a moment. “I’m the last one standing.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean, I’m the final witness. The only person alive and cognizant enough to know what Kyle did. As far as what’s happening now, well, I suppose that’s on Sikes’ hands. But this is on me. If I don’t stop him now, he’ll keep coming after me and everyone I love. I can’t let that happen.”

Montenegro cut the engine. “Don’t do this alone, Fontaine. It doesn’t need to go down like that. We’ve got your back. Three against two. I like those odds, especially since they don’t know we’re here. No, DeChamp is a fugitive who just murdered a man and attempted to murder a Deputy US Marshal. You aren’t going in alone. That’s not how we do things.”

“Montenegro is right,” Gainor cut in. “We’re doing this together or we aren’t doing it at all, so let’s go.”

Why Remy felt like this was hers to battle alone was unclear. Guilt, perhaps, that DeChamp still had a grip on this city. Anger over his release, as though she had anything to do with it. In fact, it was the man in the backseat who’d wanted that. Still, this was beyond personal. This was Remy’s life, and Kyle DeChamp had taken such a big piece of it that it controlled her even now, as much as she hated to admit it. Her every decision had been based on her experiences with that man and who it turned her into. But it was a suicide mission to go it alone. She could admit that. The silver lining? Alex and Cole weren’t here.

Remy opened her car door. “Then let’s go.” She stepped over the curb and onto the sidewalk. The clouds had turned dark, and the air was heavy. Rain was coming. She reached the awning at the building’s entrance and waited a moment for Gainor and Montenegro to catch up.

Montenegro checked his weapon. “Here’s how this is going to go down. The apartment is on the second floor. When I drove by earlier, I noticed fire escape ladders at each unit in the back. I would suggest, Gainor, that you stand ready at the bottom below his apartment in the event he tries to flee. Fontaine, you’ll go inside and find the manager. Get a key from him. DeChamp is a fugitive parolee. We have probable cause even if the place belongs to a federal agent. Meet me on the second floor at the emergency stairway. Don’t take the elevator. I don’t want him to hear us coming.”

“Do we know if Ducane is inside?” Gainor asked.

“We don’t, so this could get ugly. Just be ready. You hear things take a turn for the worse, get your ass up there to meet us and be ready to fire.”

Gainor nodded. “Got it.”

“And if things do get out of hand, we’ll hear NOPD coming,” Montenegro continued. “And we have no idea who we can trust as far as they go. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Remy eyed the lobby through the glass doors. “I think we all know what needs to be done. It’s time we move. Ducane could have security cameras out here. He might already know we’re coming.” She pushed through the doors and entered the lobby. Montenegro veered toward the stairway and Remy approached the front desk where a middle-aged man stood behind the counter. Gainor must’ve already headed around to the back of the building. “Excuse me. LBI Agent Fontaine. We have reason to believe a parolee, who murdered a man this morning, is holed up inside this building.” Remy glanced back to see that Montenegro had disappeared into the emergency stairwell.

The man pushed up his black-rimmed glasses and placed his hand over his heart. “Oh, my lord. Are you sure? Should I call the police?”

“I am the police, sir.” She raised her badge to him. “I need the key to unit 248. Please, this doesn’t have to get complicated.”

“But people live here . . .”

“Sir, I don’t have time. We need to get this man into custody right now,” Remy insisted.

“Yes, ma’am. Of course.” He unlocked a cabinet behind him and searched rows of keys that hung on hooks. “This is it.” He turned back to her. “This is for unit 248. It belongs to a . . .”

“I’m aware. Thank you.” Remy took the key and eyed the man a final time. “I need to trust you won’t be alerting anyone about this?”

“No, ma’am.”

She turned on her heel and walked to the door that led to the stairwell. The look on the man’s face suggested he knew all too well whose apartment they were going to. That, alone, was enough to send her on high alert, but it was too late now. Montenegro waited for her. Gainor guarded the back exit and now, she reached the second floor and stepped through the door.

“It’s about time.” Montenegro stood just feet from her and waved her on. “Did you get pushback?”

“No, but I still wouldn’t trust him,” she replied.

“Sounds like you’re starting to get the hang of things around here, Fontaine.” He reached the door and stopped cold.

Remy gripped her weapon with both hands and held it low, ready to train it on anyone inside. No sound could be heard behind the door. No footsteps, no muffled TV voices, no music. The hair on her neck stood on end at the sudden realization that whoever was inside knew they were there and waited for them. The only question that came to mind was who waited on the other side.

Montenegro held out his hand for the key. Remy handed it over and widened her stance as she prepared for him to open the door. Her heart raced as adrenaline surged in her veins. No matter how often she’d found herself in a similar situation, it never got any easier. Her life was on the line as it had been so many times over the course of her career, and it always felt just like this.

The key engaged the tumbler and clicked as the deadbolt withdrew. It was the loudest sound she’d ever heard. Even Montenegro winced at the noise. This was it. They were about to find out who was inside.

They stepped aside with their backs against the wall and when Montenegro opened the door, he called out. “FBI!”

A shot rang out and pierced the door. Remy flattened her back against the wall of the corridor and looked at Montenegro. “He’s armed.”

The federal agent clenched his jaw as he appeared to consider their next move. “DeChamp, you aren’t getting clear of this place. We have an agent at the bottom of the fire escape. He’ll shoot you dead you try to climb down. Put down your weapon — now!”

“Do as he says, Kyle.” For a moment, she wasn’t sure if it was DeChamp inside or maybe Ducane, but when the voice called back, she knew.

“This don’t involve anyone but you, Remy. Come on now. Don’t go risking more lives. Tell Mr. FBI man to step aside.”

She eyed Montenegro. “Call for backup. I’ll keep him occupied until they get here.”

“To hell with that,” he replied. “DeChamp! Put down your weapon or I’ll take you out. And if I don’t, it’s two against one. You a betting man?”

From inside the apartment, Remy heard DeChamp laugh, and she glanced at Montenegro. “You need to go, sir.”

“Fontaine, I ain’t leaving you, so how about we figure this out together, huh?” But rather than wait for her response, Montenegro jumped inside and fired his gun.

More shots rang out and Remy rushed in behind him. The agent reeled back when a bullet struck him. He stumbled and nearly took her down in the process. Remy stepped out of the way. He fell to the ground and fired off several rounds for cover.

DeChamp was crouched behind the arm of the sofa, and she saw his gun poke out from the side. This was her chance. Montenegro was down. Gainor would’ve heard the commotion and would be there any minute. She could do this. She could take him down once and for all.

Remy squeezed the trigger again and struck the back of the couch, missing DeChamp’s head by a few inches. She narrowed her gaze and pushed in, firing a barrage of bullets to stop DeChamp’s return fire. Stuffing from the couch flew into the air. “You aren’t getting away again, Kyle. I swear to God.”

“You gonna kill me, Remy? You gonna go against your cop oath or something?” He remained hidden behind the arm of the sofa.

“I’m going to do what I have to do to stop you and your operation. Drop your gun, Kyle, or I will kill you.” She pressed forward. “Come out you fucking coward!” Remy didn’t wait for him to respond. Overcome with growing rage, she stepped aside to get the angle she needed. “You son of a bitch.” Remy fired on the couch over and over and when she saw the gun fall to the floor, she stopped. Out of breath, she kept her aim steady and approached him.

From behind the arm of that sofa, Kyle DeChamp bled. Remy stood over him with her gun on him. He smiled a bloody smile and coughed. His blood landed on her pants.

“Aren’t you gonna help your friend?” he asked.

“He’ll be fine. His vest stopped your bullet. That was why he came in first. As you can see, I’m not wearing a vest,” Remy replied. “All this time Ducane was helping you.”

“You got his CI killed. He didn’t like it much. He didn’t like LBI much either,” DeChamp said.

“Somehow, I’ll bet there’s a lot more to it than that. Well, don’t you worry. We’ll find him.”

DeChamp coughed up more blood. “Remy, I need an ambulance.”

“Remy?” Gainor called out as he spotted Montenegro propped up against the wall. “Shit. You okay, man?”

Montenegro smiled. “That’s gonna leave a mark.”

“Get him out of here, Elliot. I got this,” Remy said.

“FBI’s on their way, Remy. NOPD is already coming. Someone called in the shots fired. It’s over. You got him.”

DeChamp smiled at her again. “That’s right. You got me, Remy. Just like you always wanted.”

“And yet you found yourself outside the prison walls and your first move was to come after the people I loved.” She scoffed. “Did you really think I’d be okay with that?”

“Remy, come on.” Gainor approached her. “He’s not going to hurt anyone anymore.”

“That’s what they told me last time,” she replied.

“It’s different now,” Gainor pleaded. “We’ll be able to take it all down now. Ducane won’t have a choice but to cooperate if he ever wants to see daylight again. We’ll get what we need on Sikes.” He turned to DeChamp. “Won’t we? You’ll see to it, right?” He reached for Remy’s arm. “Come on. It’s done now.”

She kept her sights fixed on DeChamp.

“Oh, I know that look,” he said. “You’re really thinking about it aren’t you, little girl? Wondering how much trouble you’d be in if you were to just squeeze that trigger one more time?”

“Remy?” Gainor called out again.

DeChamp was right. It was all she could think about. She had been close before and, in fact, nearly dragged Alex and Cole into her attempt at revenge. What would’ve happened had she succeeded? Their lives would’ve been over, as would hers. But DeChamp slipped away again. Not this time. No. He was here, grinning at her with blood in his mouth, bleeding from his shoulder and stomach. He could still survive if they got him help, which was probably well on its way.

“What are you gonna do, little Remy?” DeChamp asked again. “Let me live and you might just risk Claire’s life. Maybe her little boy’s too.”

Remy raised her gun and narrowed her gaze. “Don’t you dare talk about my family.”

“Remy, that’s enough.” Gainor turned back to Montenegro. “A little help here?”

“Fontaine,” Montenegro said. “He’s not worth it. Trust me.”

She kept her sights fixed on him and released the safety. “Oh, believe me. I know that all too well.”

Chapter 28

Kyle DeChamp’s blood still stained Remy’s dress pants as she waited inside the FBI field office. Elliot Gainor was with her but hadn’t said a word about what went down in that apartment. An arrest warrant had been issued for Special Agent Adam Ducane and now, the FAU agents waited for Montenegro’s return.

Never before had Remy wanted to kill someone as badly as she had Kyle DeChamp, the man responsible for continuing atrocities against innocent victims. And her lack of faith in the current justice system almost led her to commit murder. But as she stood ready to fire on him with Gainor talking in her ear, only one voice emerged. It was her mother. Her parents had been dead for years, but her mother spoke to Remy as clearly as though she stood right beside her. It was her voice, her words, that convinced Remy she could not let DeChamp destroy her life as he had tried so many times before. She could not gun down that man no matter how much evil resided in him. Her mother was a devout Catholic, something Remy never understood until today.

The door to Montenegro’s office opened and he stepped inside. “I just got off the phone with the agent at the hospital. He said DeChamp pulled through.”

Remy dropped her head into her hands.

“I’m sorry, Fontaine. I really am. On a positive note, Ducane’s been found and arrested.” Montenegro returned to his desk. “You should be proud of that, Fontaine. We’ll get what we need to finally end this thing.”

She raised her gaze to meet his. “You have enough to stop this ring. What about the other regions? You said there were two other heads.”

“Yep. But Ducane will give us Sikes. When we have him, he’ll cooperate, and we’ll learn who’s running the other regions. This is what you wanted, Fontaine. After years on this case, you’re the one who brought them all down, even if DeChamp lives. He’ll never be let out after this. Never.”

* * *

The victory seemed hollow, and Montenegro had been far too generous in his credit. The truth was, if she hadn’t been there at all, the task force would’ve accomplished what it set out to do. Instead, she’d interfered, and it sent DeChamp on the run. He nearly took down Cole Grayson in the process.

Remy returned to Baton Rouge and intended on staying there for a good long while. Her first stop was Claire’s house. She knocked on the door and Billy stood on the other side.

“Goddam, Remy. It’s good to see you.” The polished lawyer threw his arms around his sister-in-law. When he pulled back, he examined her. “Let me look at you. Still in one piece. Christ, you have any idea how worried your sister’s been?”

“I can imagine, but I’ve been worried more about y’all. How’s Isaiah doing?”

Billy stepped aside to let her in. “Just fine. Boy’s resilient as hell. Claire’s in the kitchen. Come on in. We’re just getting settled again.”

A pang of guilt pierced her gut. They were getting settled in again after going into hiding thanks to Remy. She walked into the kitchen and her chin quivered at the sight of Claire. Her eyes stung with tears as she approached and pulled her into an embrace. “Claire, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey now, there’s no need for that.” Claire stroked Remy’s long hair. “We’re okay. We’re all okay. And you are too. You hear me?” She pulled back. “You’re okay too.”

Remy wiped the tears from her eyes. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“It’s over now, Remy. He’s never coming out of that prison again. You don’t have to worry about him anymore. Never should’ve in the first place you ask me, but . . .”

“The law’s the law, Claire,” Billy added. “I’ll go see to the boy while you two catch up.” He smiled at Remy. “You stay as long as you like.”

“Thanks, Billy.” Remy pulled out a stool at the kitchen island and sat down. “They’ll keep Kyle in the hospital a few more days, then he’ll be transferred back to Elayn Hunt.”

“Thank God for that.” Claire examined her sister. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Not just yet, but I will be. Max’s mother’s doing better. She’ll be sent home tomorrow. Her son will see to her until she’s healed.”

“Does she know why any of this happened?” Claire asked.

“Not all of it. I’ll tell her when she’s stronger. I’m just grateful that family doesn’t have to bury another member.”

“Where are my manners?” Claire opened the refrigerator. “You want something to drink?”

“Water, thanks,” Remy replied.

Claire returned with a bottle of water. “What happens now, huh? You just go back to your job like none of this ever happened?”

“Pretty much. I’ll help the Marshals and our office wrap up the Edmunds case. Who knows what comes next?” She fidgeted with her hands. “There was something I wanted to say. I mean, it’s not important all things considered, but I’ve been seeing someone.”

“The US Marshal you’re always talking about?” Claire asked. “Yeah, I figured. So when do I get to meet him?”

* * *

Remy considered stopping in at the office, but it was late in the day, and frankly, she didn’t feel up to seeing Hubert and reliving all of it. A part of her was angry he’d convinced her to join with Gainor and attempt to bring down the ring. But it wasn’t fair to put that on him. He believed in her, maybe a little too much. Gainor had insisted Hubert knew nothing of the case when he hired Remy and she’d come around to that notion.

The only person she wanted to see right now was Alex. But rather than intrude on his family time, she made the call as she drove home from Claire’s place. When he answered, she smiled. “Alex, it’s me.”

“Are you back in town?” he asked.

“I am. I’m just leaving my sister’s place now. She and her family returned home. How are things with you?”

“I’ll tell you, Remy, you sure as hell stirred the pot.”

She creased her brow. “What do you mean?”

“Elliot called me a little while ago. Said you’d left and he hadn’t wanted to bother you with this, but uh, turns out, our fugitive, Elise Eaton?”

“Yeah?”

Alex paused a moment. “You got that intel regarding her location from someone at NOPD, right?”

“Yeah, an old friend. She’s a sergeant. She told me Elise had been sighted and then of course, Cole got Edmunds to give up her location at the hotel.”

“Remy, I don’t know if it was your sergeant friend or someone under her charge, but it’s looking like someone inside NOPD, who was on DeChamp’s payroll, told him where Elise Eaton was holed up.”

“Oh my God. That’s how he found her?” she asked.

“I’m still working out the finer details, but it seems that way, Remy. You warned us all that DeChamp’s reach was far and wide. He made that abundantly clear in regard to Elise Eaton.”

“I can’t believe it.” Remy pulled into her apartment complex. “And what’s happening with Joel Edmunds? Any news about the other alias I mentioned?”

“Yeah. That reporter appears to have been on point. Listen, we don’t need to go into this now. You have enough to sort through at the moment. I’ll see you in the morning and we’ll catch up, okay?”

She turned off the engine. “I appreciate that, Alex. Thanks. I’m glad to be home and to put this behind me.”

“For good this time, Remy. You can count on that. Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Alex.” She stepped out of her 4Runner and grabbed her bag from the passenger seat.

It had been less than twenty-four hours since she stood over Kyle DeChamp ready to end his life, but it would’ve certainly ended hers and she was grateful to Elliot Gainor for talking her down. As for the rest of it, well, chalk it up to the job. It sure as hell took a lot out of her, but in the end, it was still worth it.

Remy unlocked her door and had just stepped into the foyer when her phone rang. She reached the kitchen and set down her keys to answer. “Hey, I was going to call you. I just got home.”

“You feel up to some company?” Grayson asked. “No pressure.”

“I might fall asleep on you. But of course I’d love to see you. Come on over. Bring a six-pack. I think I’m all out of beer.”

“You got it. On my way.”

Remy set down her phone and walked to her bedroom to shed the same clothes she’d worn for about three days now, or had it been a week? It felt like a week. She had time for a quick shower before Cole arrived, and Remy hopped inside under the hot water. It was all she could do to shut down the thoughts. To shut down all of it and just be, after months of letting DeChamp live in her head.

Remy stepped out of the shower and put on a comfortable T-shirt and shorts. The knock on her front door came a little sooner than she’d expected, and she padded into the entry. “You must’ve been speeding, huh.” She opened the door and rocked back in surprise. A skinny man in a white tank top and baggy jeans aimed a gun at her. “No, wait!”

“Kyle sends his regards.” He pulled the trigger.

* * *

Grayson grabbed the six-pack from the passenger seat and stepped out of his SUV. He spied Remy’s apartment ahead and reached the iron staircase. Relief washed over him knowing she was home and that she could finally put that part of her life in the rearview. It had been a long time coming.

He approached her second-floor unit and knocked on the door with the six-pack tucked under his arm. Several moments passed with no answer and he knocked again. “Remy, it’s me.” Grayson looked back into the parking lot. “Your car’s here. What the hell?” He faced the door again and pounded against it with the side of his fist. “Remy, hey, you okay? Open the door. Remy, open the door!”

Panic knotted his gut and the six-pack slipped from his arm. The glass bottles shattered on the ground. Grayson gripped the handle and prepared to slam his shoulder into the door, but instead, the door was unlocked, and it swung open. “Remy!”

He hurried inside where she lay on the tile floor and blood pooled around her. “Oh my God! What happened?”

Remy’s face was pale, and she was struggling to breathe. The hole in her chest poured blood down her stomach and onto the floor. Her eyes slowly turned to him. “Kyle.”

* * *

Remy’s apartment had been overrun by officers. The front door was open and heavy rain fell from the night sky. Grayson stood in her living room and spotted Hubert arrive.

He stopped to examine the scene before making his way to the Marshal. “Thanks for calling me.”

“She’s at the hospital. They’re taking her into surgery now,” Grayson replied. “I figured you’d want to be the one to tell Alex and the rest of your team.”

“Appreciate that. It should come from me. How bad off is she?” Hubert asked.

“Bullet looked to have come from a 9mm. Exit wound at the back left shoulder blade. The rest is up to the doctors to figure out.”

Hubert eyed the blood stain on the entry wall. “How the hell did this happen?”

“Best I can figure, DeChamp knew she was coming home, knew where she lived. He’s going to spend the rest of his life behind bars, so he didn’t have much to lose.”

“I should’ve protected her,” Hubert added.

“You’ll get no argument from me. You should’ve made sure DeChamp had zero contact with anyone in that hospital. Remy might not make it and that’s on you. If you’d done your goddam job, she wouldn’t be clinging to life right now.” Grayson made his way around the officers and stepped out into the rain. He walked downstairs and returned to his Chevy Tahoe, climbing into the driver’s seat soaking wet. It was best that way because he couldn’t tell if his face was wet with rain or with tears. His words to Hubert were harsh, but goddam it, he was angry. He loved her. That didn’t happen often for a guy like him. A guy who kept everyone at arm’s length. Remy was the same. She had her challenges, her demons. So what? They all had. He knew Remy had made a regrettable decision the night her partner died. Who cared? She still put away a criminal.

Heat rose under his collar. Grayson slammed his steering wheel again and again and yelled out, “No!” If only he hadn’t stopped to buy the beer. He could’ve arrived just a few minutes earlier. It would’ve been enough.

Grayson wiped his nose and peered through the windshield at the officers still coming and going out of Remy’s apartment upstairs. He turned the engine and switched on the wiper blades. “If she dies . . .”

The call to Claire had been the hardest and he knew she lingered in a cold and sterile hospital waiting room to learn of her sister’s fate. Now, it was his time to go. To sit and wait and pray to a god he never prayed to in hopes he might listen and might see fit to save Remy.

He soon arrived at Baton Rouge General and stepped out into the rain again, heading toward the entrance. The doors parted and he walked inside, dripping from head to toe. Ahead was an information desk. “Excuse me, I’m here for Remy Fontaine.”

The administrator typed on her keyboard and eyed the monitor before setting her sights to Grayson. “I’m sorry, sir, she’s still in surgery. If you’d like to wait, the surgical ward is on the third floor. There’s a waiting room for visitors.”

He nodded and took the elevator until the doors parted on the ward. Claire sat alone in a row of chairs against the wall. He’d never met her but the resemblance to her sister was uncanny.

“Claire Dupre?” Grayson asked.

Her watery eyes turned up at him. “Are you Cole?”

He nodded.

“Might as well sit down, then.” Claire patted the seat beside her. “Remy only just told me about you. She usually keeps that kind of stuff to herself.” Her chin quivered. “She must care a lot about you.”

“I hope so, ma’am, because I care an awful lot about her.” Grayson stared out into the halls of the ward. Claire turned quiet, and he didn’t feel much like talking either. The waiting was the hardest part.

As he kept his eyes fixed ahead, time lost all meaning. He didn’t know how much time had passed when he spotted a man in scrubs approach.

“Are you two here for Remy Fontaine?” the doctor asked.

Claire shot up from the seat. “I’m her sister. Is she okay? Is she awake?”

Grayson kept quiet but stood next to her. He was afraid to ask the question.

“I’m Dr. Batra. Your sister is out of surgery and has been moved to the recovery ward.”

“Is she okay? May I see her?” Claire pressed on.

“She is awake. But I must tell you something.” He eyed Grayson a moment. “Are you also family?”

“Yes,” Claire jumped in.

“Okay. The bullet entered Remy’s chest and caused a fair amount of tissue damage. At the range in which she was shot, frankly, it’s a miracle she’s alive. The bullet exited her back near the left shoulder blade. It missed her heart and that’s the good news.”

“And the bad?” Grayson asked.

The doctor looked down a moment and drew in a deep breath. “The angle in which the bullet traveled meant that it clipped her spinal cord on the way out. As it stands right now, Remy is paralyzed from the waist down.”

Claire covered her mouth and her knees buckled. Grayson reached out for her. He swallowed his grief, knowing this woman was family and he had to be strong for her. “Is it permanent?” he asked.

Dr. Batra held his mask in his hand. “It’s too early to say. We’re running tests. There will likely need to be more surgeries. I understand Remy is in law enforcement.”

Claire gripped a nearby chair and peered at him. “Yes, she is.”

“I see. Well, ma’am, it’s highly unlikely she’ll be able to continue in that line of work, at least on the physical side of things. Although I have seen patients perform miracles of their own. But your sister is alive, ma’am. She’s alive.”

“Thank you, doctor. When can we see her?” Claire asked.

“Give her a few minutes to come round. I’ll have a nurse take you back soon.”

* * *

The pain had been subdued by the morphine drip in Remy’s arm. Her head was still fuzzy, but her vision returned to normal. No more seeing double. Her attention was drawn to the door as a gentle knock sounded and a soft voice called out.

“Remy? It’s me, Claire.”

Claire walked inside and Remy knew immediately that the doctor had given her the news. “Come in.” She forced a grin, knowing her sister would see through it. “It’s okay. I’m okay, Claire.” It was all Remy could do not to break down in front of her, but it was her time to be strong, just as Claire had been when their parents died. “I see Dr. Batra told you.”

“Oh, Remy. I’m so sorry.” Claire hurried to Remy’s side and took her hand.

“No need. I’m still here, Claire. I’m here and you know, nothing’s set in stone.”

“Of course. Of course. I know that.” She wiped away her tears. “Are you in pain?”

“No. They got me on the strong stuff.” Remy studied her a moment. “Did they find him? The man who shot me? Did they find him?”

“I don’t know. Cole called me and told me what happened. I came straight here. He stayed at your place while the cops came.”

“Is he here now?” Remy asked.

“Yes. He’s waiting in the lobby.”

“I don’t want to see him, Claire. Not like this. I–I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. I don’t know anything, and I can’t look him in the eye right now. I just can’t . . .”

“Okay.” Claire rubbed Remy’s arm. “Okay. You don’t have to see him right now. The only thing I know for sure is that he told your boss. And he said your boss was going to let everyone else know what happened. I’m sure they’ll all be coming here soon to see you.”

“Not yet. Please, Claire, I’m just not ready, okay? I can’t face them. I can’t face any of them, not even Alex. Please, can you just keep all of them away from me?”

Claire nodded. “Of course. Yes, of course. Whatever you want, Remy.” She cleared her throat. “The doctor said that you could still recover.”

“I know.” She turned away. “But I’ll never be a cop again. Claire, it’s all I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember and now it’s been taken from me.” Remy turned back her gaze. “Kyle got the last laugh. He’s taken everything from me now.”

* * *

Kyle DeChamp wasn’t fully healed. Far from it. But the doctors signed off on his release after a week’s stay and now he was being transferred back to the Elayn Hunt Correctional Center. The one place he’d sworn he would never see again.

While his operation crumbled around him, and everyone he knew had been arrested, or was about to be, at least he’d accomplished his main goal. Remy Fontaine was out of the picture. Shame she survived, though. Dumbass couldn’t even get a clean kill shot.

They arrested the man who pulled the trigger, and of course, he ratted out DeChamp within about a minute of being detained. It hardly mattered. DeChamp knew he was never getting out of this place and the only thing that worried him was that he had no more power. No influence. Everyone inside knew he’d been taken down. This left him vulnerable to a lot of people who wouldn’t mind stepping into his shoes. A lot of people he’d stepped on.

One of the guards shoved him inside the room. “Strip search. Drop your pants, inmate.”

He knew the deal. Obey, or get tossed into the hole. He hadn’t even settled in yet, so he would obey — for now. “Yes, sir.” DeChamp undressed and stood spread-eagle.

After the guard had searched him, he pulled on his clothes again and stepped into the hall. DeChamp shuffled in his plastic slip-on shoes through the corridor and toward the cells when another guard stopped and turned back to him.

“Did you say something, inmate?”

He eyed the large man. “No, sir.”

“Now, I distinctly heard you say something to me, inmate.” The guard shoved DeChamp against the wall. “Go on. Say it again.”

“Say what, sir? I think you misheard.”

“I misheard?” The guard smiled and grabbed DeChamp by the arm, pulling him down the hall and into the walkway beneath a set of stairs. “Why don’t you tell me now, inmate? You got something smart to say?”

DeChamp avoided eye contact. He knew the drill. “No, sir. I got nothing to say, sir.”

The guard moved in close, standing just inches from DeChamp’s face. “Well, I got a message for you, DeChamp. You don’t run things around here anymore, you get that? You don’t call the shots. I do.” He pulled back. “Did you just hit me?”

DeChamp rocked on his heels. “What? No, sir. No, sir. I didn’t touch you.”

The guard pushed him against the wall and another inmate appeared. He kept his arm on DeChamp’s shoulders to steady him. “Now!”

The other inmate moved in and held up the makeshift knife. With rapid thrusts, he stabbed DeChamp several times in the stomach. Blood splattered on his face and on the guard’s uniform.

The guard pushed him off. “All right. All right. That’s enough.”

The inmate turned on his heel and retreated as he let DeChamp slide to the floor.

Blood pooled around him. He gurgled indiscernible words. DeChamp looked up at the guard, who only smiled before he walked away.

“Hey, we got a problem back here!” The guard disappeared beyond the corridor.

Kyle DeChamp looked at the gray walls around him. He placed his hand on his stomach and peered at the blood on his palm. No one was going to help him. He knew the drill.

* * *

A man like Cole Grayson would never admit that his heart had been broken. Remy still refused to see him and it hurt like hell. She was just being stubborn. That’s all it was. But right now, he had to go against her will and Claire helped to arrange it.

New information had come to light, and it was due to Grayson’s sheer determination to see to it SAC Marcus Hubert paid for his negligence. What happened to Remy lay squarely on Hubert’s shoulders. It hadn’t been hard to convince Alex of that either. At least, partially. But it was enough to get his help uncovering the information Remy would want to hear.

Grayson knocked on the hospital room door. “Remy, it’s me, Cole.” He awaited her response and when none came, he walked in anyway. “Listen, I know you don’t want to see me.” As he approached her bed, he lost his breath for a moment. While she looked far better than on the night it happened, she still appeared weak and seeing her hooked up to oxygen and IVs, well, it struck him harder than he’d expected.

“What are you doing here, Cole?” Remy averted her eyes. “I told Claire days ago I wasn’t ready for visitors . . .”

“I know, Remy, but I begged her to let me come see you. I have to tell you something.” She still wouldn’t look at him. “Your concerns about Hubert, Remy, they were right.”

She slowly turned her sights on him. “What do you mean?”

He took a step closer. “I asked Alex to help me. He’s worried about you, Remy.”

“What do you mean, Cole?” she cut in.

It took him a moment to gather the words he hadn’t wanted to say. “Hubert knew about Gainor’s case. He knew it involved DeChamp.”

Grayson watched as she closed her eyes and a tear fell down her cheek. It was all he could do not to take her hand in his. “I’m so sorry, Remy. Hubert knew when he hired you about the Criminal Division’s case and he didn’t tell you. Instead, he let you think you were at FAU because he believed in you. Maybe that was the case, but . . .”

“I knew it,” she cut in. “I knew he was lying to me, and I kept telling myself I could trust him. That Hubert had my back.”

“He should’ve told you this when he brought you on,” Grayson added. “Maybe he thought you’d turn him down if you knew. Maybe . . .”

“Maybe? Maybe nothing, Cole. Hubert lied right to my face. What about Gainor? Did he lie to me too?”

Grayson was sheepish. “I don’t know, but I don’t think so. I think Hubert had him convinced he knew nothing of his case at the time you were hired.”

Her lips quivered as she held his gaze. “What do I do now, Cole?”

“I would’ve given anything not to have to tell you this, Remy, but you deserve to know who you’re working for. And as far as the future goes, all you can do is take care of yourself. This isn’t the end of anything for you, Remy. It’s the beginning of something new. I need you to see that.”

“Easy for you to say. You can still feel your legs,” she replied.

He reached for her hand, and she didn’t pull away. “In time, you will heal. I know you will. And when you do, you’ll find the right future for yourself. All I can do is hope that your future involves me.”

“Cole, I . . .”

“No, it’s okay. I have to get going. I’m sorry to come in here when you didn’t want me to. I’ll let you rest.” He turned on his heel and started toward the door.

“Cole?” Remy called out.

“Yes?” He turned around again.

“Thank you for telling me the truth. I’m glad you came.”

He donned a tender smile. “I’ll always be here for you, Remy.”

As he returned to the hospital lobby and walked through the exit doors, his phone rang. “Grayson here.” He continued into the parking lot under a bright blue sky.

“It’s done,” the caller replied.

He raised his chin and pinched his lips. “Appreciate the heads-up.” Grayson ended the call and stepped inside his Tahoe. As he closed the door, he peered through the windshield. “Justice comes for us all — eventually.”

THE END

Love Free Bestselling Fiction?

Join our mailing list and get a FREE Kindle book from one of our bestselling authors every week!

Click here to join our mailing list and also get a free box set of short stories!

Follow us on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram

@joffebooks

The Joffe Books Story

We began in 2014 when Jasper agreed to publish his mum’s much-rejected romance novel and it became a bestseller.

Since then we’ve grown into the largest independent publisher in the UK. We’re extremely proud to publish some of the very best writers in the world, including Joy Ellis, Faith Martin, Caro Ramsay, Helen Forrester, Simon Brett and Robert Goddard. Everyone at Joffe Books loves reading and we never forget that it all begins with the magic of an author telling a story.

We are proud to publish talented first-time authors, as well as established writers whose books we love introducing to a new generation of readers.

We won Trade Publisher of the Year at the Independent Publishing Awards in 2023. We have been shortlisted for Independent Publisher of the Year at the British Book Awards for the last four years, and were shortlisted for the Diversity and Inclusivity Award at the 2022 Independent Publishing Awards. In 2023 we were shortlisted for Publisher of the Year at the RNA Industry Awards.

We built this company with your help, and we love to hear from you, so please email us about absolutely anything bookish at feedback@joffebooks.com

If you want to receive free books every Friday and hear about all our new releases, join our mailing list here.

And when you tell your friends about us, just remember: it’s pronounced Joffe as in coffee or toffee!

www.joffebooks.com

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

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.