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Authors: Joanna Wayne Rita Herron and Mallory Kane

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“Sure.”

He would have found a way to meet her if she’d said she was on the moon.

Chapter Seven

Remy spotted Nicole on the corner near the intersection where she’d told him to meet her. She looked good enough to stop traffic in a straight black skirt that showed off her hips and legs to perfection.

Her white blouse was topped with a pale yellow cardigan that fell just below her waist. Her red hair shone in the midday sun like silken fire.

He checked
his rearview mirror to make certain there was no sign of the car that had been tailing him when he left his hotel that morning. He couldn’t chance pulling Nicole into any danger.

She waved as he stopped and leaned over to open the passenger door. Her skirt inched up her thighs as she got in. His libido took notice. He looked away before his arousal got out of hand.

He pulled back into
a line of slow-moving traffic. “I didn’t expect to hear from you again after last night.”

“I didn’t expect to call,” she admitted.

“I hope it’s not trouble that changed your mind.”

“At this point, it’s just concern. Have you had lunch?”

“No, or breakfast, either. But why is it I think you didn’t call to make sure I’m eating right?”

“Must be that detective intuition. But
there’s a good Italian restaurant nearby that’s usually not too busy on Tuesdays. It should be quiet enough to talk there.”

“Just point the way.”

She didn’t volunteer more and he didn’t ask until they’d been seated and served tall glasses of sweet iced tea. He sensed her uneasiness and picked up a few very bad vibes.

“Is this meeting Lee’s idea?”

Her face registered surprise.
“No. Why would you think Lee would want me to see you?”

“Just a hunch. I’m glad I’m wrong.”

Her manicured nails tapped the printed luncheon menu. “I did have dinner with Lee last night, but I only mentioned our few-second conversation at the party.”

“So why did you call me today?”

“I have questions that I need answered.”

“Shoot.”

“Lee says you were a dirty cop. Were
you?”

“No. I was so clean, in fact, that the FBI had asked me to help them with an ongoing investigation involving corruption inside the NOPD.”

“You didn’t mention the FBI last night.”

“You didn’t give me much of a chance.” He explained his involvement in the investigation as succinctly as he could. She listened without interruption, but he still wasn’t sure she believed him.

The waitress returned, interrupting the discussion. Nicole ordered a salad. Remy glanced at the specials board and took the first thing on the list. He figured he couldn’t go wrong with spaghetti and meatballs.

Nicole worried the handle of her fork for a few seconds before looking up. “What were you referring to last night when you said that Lee might be guilty of something even worse
than taking bribes?”

He hesitated, hating the prospect of diving into the depraved details of Doyle Shriver’s death with her. “All I have is speculation, Nicole. Nothing I can say will be any more convincing than what I told you last night.”

She ran a finger up and down her icy glass, smearing the condensation and pushing it into tiny rivers of moisture. “It might. I discovered something
last night that made your accusations a bit more credible.”

Nicole recounted her call to the bank in the Cayman Islands and the fact that Lee had lied about the messages on his phone.

“You called a bank in the Cayman Islands from Lee’s phone?”

“No. I made the call from my phone, but I didn’t leave a message.”

Remy had only meant to protect her. Instead he might have pulled
her into danger.

“I should never have said a word to you about this,” he said. “You have to stay out of this. Don’t give Lee any reason not to trust you.”

“Then level with me. Other than taking bribes, what other crimes do you think Lee’s committed? If you don’t tell me the truth, I’ll find out on my own.”

And that could get her killed, the same as it had gotten Jessie Klein and
Doyle Shriver killed.

He studied Nicole across the table. Her features were delicate, yet there was a whispered strength in them as well, as if her alabaster complexion was only a mask that covered a will of steel. Perhaps it was that as much as the red hair and tantalizing, lyrical laugh that reminded him so much of Carlotta.

He took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I think that Lee
may have had one of his own officers assassinated.”

Her eyes widened in horror but her gaze didn’t waver. “Doyle Shriver?”

Remy’s concern accelerated. “What do you know about that?”

“I know his wife, Syl. She was a nurse in Dr. Cantrell’s office before she got pregnant with Toby. And he’s the only cop who’s been murdered by an unknown assailant recently.”

“What did Syl tell
you about his death?”

“Nothing that made a lot of sense, but she mentioned something about missing film and not trusting Lee. I figured it was just her grief talking. You surely don’t think Lee had something to do with Doyle’s death?”

“I can’t say any more, Nicole, but I’m begging you to stay out of this.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. But I’ll make a deal with you.”

“No deals.
The situation is too dangerous.”

“Lee has a home office with lots of file cabinets,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “The missing film or at least some evidence of its veracity might be in those files.”

“Or it might not be. Either way, you’re not breaking and entering to look for it.”

“I won’t have to. I have keys to Lee’s house and the code for his alarm system. We can
go through the front door or sneak in the back if we can find a way for one of us to scale a high privacy fence.”

“Did you even hear what I said about this situation being too dangerous?”

“I heard you. Here’s my deal. Either you go with me or I go alone, take a peek at his files and see if I can figure out for myself if the guy is the monster you portray him as. Are you in or out?”

“You do believe in cutting to the chase.”

“It’s a gift.”

The waitress returned with their food before he could argue the point. But somehow he knew that further verbal confrontation would be useless. Nicole was apparently not only gorgeous but also spunky as hell.

She’d called his bluff. No way would he let her go snooping in Lee Barnaby’s house alone, not when he was the one
who’d dragged her into his war.

Chapter Eight

“That’s Lee’s house just ahead.” Nicole pointed to the two-story white Colonial with the dark green shutters.

“Impressive bachelor pad.” Remy slowed the truck. “No cars in the driveway.”

“Which means the cleaning woman has come and gone,” Nicole said. “It should be clear sailing for a few hours.”

“Unless Lee decides to return home for some reason in
the middle of the afternoon,” Remy countered.

“Are you always such a pessimist?”

“In my line of work we call it survival. And it’s not like the police chief punches a clock.”

Nonetheless, Remy continued to the corner, turned left and then turned again onto a street one block west of Lee’s house, just as she’d suggested on the drive over. He pulled to the curb and parked beneath
a canopy of branches heralding spring with their burst of new leaves.

Nicole shifted and opened the door of the truck, stepping carefully to avoid tripping on the gnarled roots that crawled away in every direction from a huge tree trunk. A squirrel scurried out of her way before racing up the ragged trunk. Birds sang from perches far above her. The sky was cloudless.

Her nerves were
the only hint that she was on shaky ground and she was determined not to let Remy see her uneasiness. Two days ago she would have never considered breaking into anyone’s house, much less one owned by the chief of police. Her life had been as predictable as the ending of last year’s reruns. It had been ordinary, safe—and boring.

Enter Remy Comeaux and suddenly she was not only flirting with
him
but danger, as well. She wondered what Deanie would think if she could see her now. Most likely she’d be cheering her on. But she couldn’t tell even Deanie about this.

If all went as planned, no one would ever know she was involved in any of this. That was Remy’s stipulation to the deal.

Nicole led the way to the corner entry to the hiking trail that ran behind Lee’s house. Minutes
later, the second floor and the privacy fence that surrounded his backyard and pool came into view. The fence looked to be an insurmountable obstacle to her. Thankfully, there was always the front-door option.

“Still think you can scale that?”

He looked up, eyeing the overhanging branches. “Sure. I scampered up trees like that down in the bayou half my life.”

She wrapped her arms
around her chest. “You’ll have quite a drop on the other side.”

“Not too bad.” He pointed to the branches that hung over the fence. “I can drop to a lower branch once I’m on the chief’s turf.”

“Just don’t expect me to follow. You’ll have to retrieve the gate key and come back for me.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights.”

“Not as long as I have both feet on terra firma.”

His teasing smile faded from his face. “It’s not too late to back out of all of this.”

Nicole considered it for about half a second. If Lee was half as evil as Remy suspected, there was nothing to keep him from shooting Remy on the spot if he came home and found him there. If Lee declared he was defending himself against an intruder, no one would question him.

But she couldn’t believe
he would shoot her. They were friends. He cared for her. Besides, killing your girlfriend would require a lot more explaining. And he wouldn’t risk shooting Remy if she was there as a witness.

Arrest him, sure. But not shoot him. Unless Remy gave him reason... “Tell me you’re not carrying a weapon under that windbreaker, Remy.”

“Just a small semiautomatic .45.”

Horror swept through
her. She hadn’t considered possible gunfire when she’d concocted this plan.

“I’m teasing, Nicole. I left my weapon in the truck. I’m not stupid enough to give Lee an armed-burglary charge to use against me. I’m not taking you to a gunfight.”

“Good.”

“You shouldn’t be here anyway. You don’t have a dog in the fight.”

“You’re not the only person interested in justice, Remy Comeaux.”
And the truth was she didn’t want to play it smart or safe. She’d done that for years, always thinking her life was on the verge of taking off but never quite getting there.

Now she was actually taking a risk, doing something that wasn’t expected of her, fighting for a cause bigger than herself. Her nerves might be shot, but she’d never felt more alive.

“You said you had to protect me
because it was the right thing to do, Remy. Well, I have to do this for the same reason.”

Remy met her defiant gaze straight on and then reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Point made, but I’d still rather you go back and wait in the truck.”

“Not going to happen.” She pulled on the pair of latex gloves that Remy had given her.

Then, true to his word, Remy shinnied up the tree
with the skill and agility of an eight-year-old. She barely breathed until she heard him drop to the soft, grassy earth of Lee’s back lawn.

She clasped Lee’s door key in her right hand until she heard the click of the gate as it opened.

“Last chance to back out,” Remy said.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

They crossed the small yard quickly. Once inside the house, she punched in the
code for the back-door alarm pad and took a deep breath as the warning beep gave way to silence.

They were inside. The house was empty. If they moved quickly, they could clear out before anyone knew they’d been there.

Now, if they could just find something to back up Remy’s accusations—if Lee was actually guilty. She still wanted to believe that he was the man of honor she and most of
New Orleans had always thought him to be, but Remy’s arguments were persuasive.

If Lee had ordered Doyle killed, he’d likely already planned the same fate for Remy. Her blood ran cold at the thought.

“Leave the back door open,” she said, “in case we have to make a fast escape.” She started toward Lee’s office, but Remy didn’t follow.

He lingered and scanned the area. “A man would
have to be drawing a hell of a salary to live like this.”

“He probably bought and furnished the house with family money,” she said, trying to at least be fair.

“Not unless he bought himself a new family.”

“I don’t know what you mean. His father was a shipping magnate. He must have inherited a small fortune.”

“His dad was an appliance repairman from Jersey and his mother died
when he was ten.”

“Are you sure?”

“Dead certain. The FBI had that info before Katrina. Now, let’s get started.”

“You’ll have to give me some guidelines about what I’m searching for,” Nicole said as they reached the office. “I’m thinking mortgages or bank-deposit slips or maybe some notation about Lee’s communication with drug dealers.”

“That would help,” Remy agreed. “But what
I’d really like to recover is the missing film that shows Reggio Sanchez at the scene of Jessie Klein’s murder.”

“I just hope he kept it and that it’s here.”

“He’d have to keep it somewhere—as a bargaining tool to use against Reggio. Besides, men as arrogant as Lee who’ve scammed the world as long as he has believe they’re above getting caught.”

“Can you use evidence obtained illegally
in a trial?”

“If we were cops, we’d need a search warrant. But I can guarantee you that Lee is never going to admit the film was stolen from him.”

“If we do find it, who will you give it to?”

“My first choice would be Ray Storm. He’s the FBI agent I was working with before Katrina. But I’ve been trying to reach him for days without success. I suspect he’s on an undercover assignment.”

“And your second choice?”

“The highest-ranking agent in the local FBI office.”

“You have it all worked out, don’t you?”

“I’ve had years to think about taking Lee down. I just never expected it to involve murder.”

Lee had been right about one thing. This was a vendetta for Remy. He must have loved the woman who was killed in Katrina very much.

“Has Lee ever mentioned
or shown you a hidden safe?” Remy asked.

“No.”

“Then we’ll start in Lee’s office.”

Their first discovery was that the large desk drawer and a freestanding wooden file cabinet were both locked.

“No big deal,” Remy assured her. He pulled a toothpick-size tool from his pocket. “I just want to do as little damage as possible so that Lee won’t realize right away that we tampered
with the locks. We don’t want to tip him off so that he gets rid of evidence we might not find before the FBI has a chance to seize everything.”

“That makes sense.”

“You start with the desk,” Remy said as soon as he released the lock. “I’ll take the file cabinet. If you see anything at all suspicious, show it to me.”

Nicole worked quickly, absorbed in the task but jumping at every
unfamiliar sound. The click of the motor when the air conditioner turned itself on or off. The drop of cubes from the ice maker. The chime of the grandfather clock in the entryway.

The ring of the doorbell.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she jumped away from the desk.

“Stay calm,” Remy whispered. “Lee wouldn’t be ringing his own doorbell. Whoever it is will assume no one’s home
and go away.”

“Unless they have a key, as I do.”

The bell rang again.

Remy went to the window and peeked around the blind. “There’s a UPS truck parked in the street in front of the house. It’s just a delivery.”

She exhaled slowly, still holding on to the edge of Lee’s desk with clammy hands. “Have you found anything helpful?” she asked, hoping this foray into the dark side
wasn’t futile.

“A deed for a very pricey estate in Montego Bay, perhaps a retirement property in case things get too hot for him here. Turn on his laptop and see if you can bring up his email.”

She tried but got nowhere. “I need a password to get into the computer.”

“That figures. Play around with it while I search for a hidden safe. The files are too clean. Lee has to have somewhere
else he keeps his dirty records.”

“How do you even start looking for a hidden safe?”

“Look for telltale evidence. Slightly crooked pictures. Furniture at odd angles as if it were hurriedly shoved back into place. Other than that, it’s just a crapshoot.”

“You’d have made a great burglar.”

“Always nice to have options in case the P.I. gig doesn’t pan out.”

“In the meantime,
we need to hurry it up,” Nicole reminded him. “Lee could get home anytime, especially if he has to attend an event tonight.”

“I’ll risk it. You shouldn’t.” He reached in the front jeans pocket and pulled out a rattling key ring. “Here’s my truck keys. Clear out now and drive to a nearby coffee shop. I’ll call when I’m done.”

And risk Remy being shot as an intruder? No way. “I’ve started
this. I’ll finish it.”

She spent the next half hour at the computer with zero luck. Everything was password protected, and her attempts at guessing his were futile. Finally she gave up and went to help Remy search for a safe.

She followed him from room to room, watched his muscles flex as he moved huge pieces of art and scooted furniture around as if they were kids’ blocks. His strength
was as amazing as his determination.

Finally she went off on her own, stopping at the door to Lee’s bedroom. She stared at the king-size bed. If she had given in to Lee’s pleas, they would have been lovers in that bed. Between those very sheets. Her stomach churned.

She was about to back away when she noticed something odd about the fireplace. She walked over for a closer look. Not only
was it a fake structure, but it held gas logs that looked as if they’d never been burned.

The whole setup lacked the elegance of the rest of the room. She doubted his designer had had a say in installing it.

“Come in here a minute,” she called. “I think I may have found something.”

Hesitant to hope for too much, she tried to ignore her skyrocketing pulse as Remy scrutinized the
fireplace and even the logs. Finally he located a control knob attached to one of the fake logs.

One turn and the fireplace swiveled, revealing a metal safe big enough for a baby to crawl into.

Nicole gave a whoop and then quickly slapped her hand over her mouth in horror that she’d been so noisy. “We did it,” she whispered.

“Not quite,” Remy said. “We still have to get this baby
open.”

“You have tools.”

“But this isn’t a cheap safe. My tools may be no match for this lock.”

She chewed her fingernails and prayed as he worked. The combination lock didn’t budge.

The clock in the hall chimed five times.

“Okay, Nicole. If you won’t leave, I need you to stand guard at the front window and watch for Lee to return. If you see him drive up, call to me and
then run like hell. Go out the back door and out the back gate and I’ll meet you at the truck.”

“And if you don’t?”

“I will. I promise, I’ll be right behind you. Please don’t argue with me this time, Nicole. There’s no time to waste.”

And then he kissed her quick but hard on the mouth. She dissolved in heat and need and hunger for him, stronger than she could remember ever having
felt before.

This had to work. They had to get out of here safely. If Remy ended up in jail or worse because of her idea to come here, she’d never forgive herself.

The minutes dragged by as she waited for Remy and watched for Lee.

She recognized Lee’s car even before it turned in the driveway. Terror gripped her, and instead of running to the back door, she ran to the bedroom.

“Lee’s home. Let’s go.”

Remy was squatted on his haunches, rummaging through an
open
safe.

“We may have hit pay dirt.” He held up a DVD and then quickly slipped it into an inside pocket of his windbreaker.

“Great, now let’s go.”

“Right behind you,” he said, scooping up more contents. “Just have to close the safe and move everything back in place.”

“There’s no time.”

“Okay.” He stood and gave her a gentle shove toward the door. “Move it. I’m right behind you.”

The clattering grind of the garage door’s motor started just as she made it to the back door. She didn’t slow down until she reached the gate in the privacy fence.

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