Authors: Joanna Wayne Rita Herron and Mallory Kane
Mack explained about the setup, and anger flickered across Lily’s face. “You think Tate is the one who skimmed the funds?”
Mack nodded. “I also think the gubernatorial candidate is involved.”
Lily looked shocked, but the day had worn on her, too, and she didn’t argue.
“This plan sounds dangerous,” she said as they arrived at her house. “Mack, I don’t want my father hurt.”
Mack reached over and did what he’d wanted to do all night. He pulled her into a hug, his body still reeling from seeing that gun trained on her and his little boy. Lily was trembling, as well.
“I promise you that I won’t let anything happen to him,” he whispered.
He just
hoped to hell he could keep that promise.
Chapter Ten
Lily encouraged Winston to stay at his friend’s house the next morning, but he stubbornly refused. “I want to be with you and Dad,” he insisted. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
If anything could make a child grow up fast, she supposed it was a kidnapping.
“All right, but you’re going to the batting cage with Anita while Grandpa has his meeting. I don’t want you in
the house.”
He pouted but realized it was futile to argue. She didn’t intend to have her son anywhere near the danger again.
She met Mack and Greer at eight and watched them wire her father’s office. Mack had installed a camera in the office, which infuriated her and her father when he realized it. But they agreed to allow it to remain intact for the purpose of the meeting.
She
and Mack and Greer waited in the den with the door closed, but thanks to technology, they had a good view via her father’s computer. The atmosphere was thick with tension as Tate and the mayor joined her father.
“What’s this about?” Mayor Barrow asked.
“You heard I was brought in to the police station for questioning about my financial records,” her father said.
“Yes,” Mayor Barrow
answered. “But Manning assured me that you would be cleared.”
“That’s right,” Tate said with a smug grin.
“Just how do you plan to do that?” her father asked. “It sounds like they have solid evidence against me.”
Tate paced the room. “Don’t worry, Landry. I took care of that.”
“What do you mean?” her father asked.
Tate smiled again. “I made sure that Rivet clears you.”
The mayor rubbed his balding head, his brows furrowed. “How so?”
“That jerk is going to tell the police that he fabricated the evidence. Rivet will wind up in jail and you’ll go free.”
Her father’s jaw hardened. Tate had practically admitted to arranging the kidnapping to force Mack into covering up their illegal activities.
“But he didn’t fabricate it, did he?” her father asked.
“That doesn’t matter,” Tate said. “You’ll be cleared and he goes to jail. It’s a win-win for all of us.”
“You’re sure about this?” Mayor Barrow asked. “Because if those files get examined by the wrong people, we’re in trouble.”
“Good God,” Greer said. “You were right, Rivet. The mayor
is
stealing money from the city funds.”
Mayor Barrow paced. “I can’t believe you left a paper
trail.”
“Let me get this straight. You set this up, Tate, so you could steal from the rebuilding funds?” Her father glanced at the mayor. “And you knew about it?”
“Don’t worry, Melvin,” Mayor Barrow said. “We’ll cut you in. There’s plenty to go around.”
“Shut up.” Tate’s nostrils flared as he grabbed her father by the collar. “What’s going on, Landry?”
Her father gritted his
teeth. “I trusted you. I even encouraged my daughter to go out with you, but you stole from me, and then you had Lily and Winston kidnapped as leverage.”
Lily grabbed Mack’s arm. “I don’t like this, Mack.”
“Me, either.” Mack jerked his thumb toward Greer. “Let’s go.”
They moved toward the door, but Tate drew a gun on her father.
“Stay here, Lily,” Mack ordered.
Greer pulled
his weapon, and Mack did the same, then they hurried into the hallway toward Landry’s office.
She held her breath, praying Tate didn’t panic and open fire.
* * *
M
ACK
HAD
PROMISED
L
ILY
he wouldn’t let anything happen to her father. He had to keep his promise.
Greer swung open the office door, his weapon drawn. “Put the gun down, Mr. Manning. It’s over.”
Panic and shock
flared in Manning’s eyes, but the mayor threw up his hands.
“This man has been stealing from the city,” Mayor Barrow shouted. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“Don’t bother lying, Mayor Barrow,” Greer said. “We have you all on tape.”
“You can’t use that in court,” Manning screeched. “We have rights.”
“So do the people you stole from,” Mack said between clenched teeth.
Greer
stepped toward Manning, but Manning swung the gun up and fired. Mack shoved Greer out of the way and fired at Manning. The bullet pierced Manning’s leg, and he bellowed and dropped his gun.
Mack kicked the gun out of the way, then spun Manning around and shoved him against the wall. Greer pushed himself up from the floor and stalked toward the mayor, then handcuffed him.
A moment later
Lily rushed in and threw herself at her father. “Daddy, are you okay?”
“Yes, baby.” He enveloped her in his arms while Mack and Greer hauled Manning and the mayor to the squad car they’d hidden in Landry’s garage.
Landry appeared a moment later. “Rivet?”
Mack glanced up and saw Lily and Winston standing behind him. Then Landry extended his hand. “I was wrong about you. Thank you
for saving my daughter and grandson.”
Emotions thickened Mack’s throat. He’d never expected an apology from Landry. “No problem.”
Then Lily threw her arms around him. “I was so mad at you, Mack, but I missed you so much. And I still love you.”
His heart stuttered as he swept her into his arms. “I love you, too, Lily.”
Greer cleared his throat, then gestured toward the police
car. “I’ve got this, Rivet. Why don’t you stay here with your family?”
Mack nodded, then looked at Lily with questions in his eyes. “Lily? Can you forgive me?”
She smiled and kissed him, and he had his answer.
He returned the kiss with all the love he’d held inside for eight years.
When they finally pulled apart, Winston vaulted into his arms. Mack choked back tears and hugged
his family to him.
Eight years ago he’d lost them.
Now that he had them back, he’d never let them go again.
* * * * *
Mallory Kane
Bayou Justice
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Ray Storm—
The dedicated FBI agent abandoned New Orleans and Molly Hennessey when Katrina hit. Now he’s back, to bring a corrupt public figure to justice. But solving his case will not only break Molly’s heart and his own, it could get them both killed.
Molly Hennessey—
Molly was young and in love when undercover agent Ray Storm seduced her into revealing
incriminating secrets about her brother, then disappeared when Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. Now Ray is back, with danger and heartache in tow. Torn between loyalty to her family and telling the truth, Molly knows that no matter which side she chooses, she will be left with a broken heart.
Angelica DePuye—
An addict and a confidential informant before Hurricane Katrina, Angel turned
her life around and became a cop. She works for the Narcotics division of the New Orleans Police Department now and knows a lot about who’s who and where they are in New Orleans.
Martin Hennessey—
Eight years ago, this head of the Louisiana Disaster Avoidance Task Force (LDAT) was saved from indictment for stealing Federal grant monies earmarked to shore up New Orleans levees when Hurricane
Katrina washed away the FBI’s evidence against him. Eight years later, the FBI agent is back, and Martin can see his plans to be governor of Louisiana crumbling.
Joseph Flay—
Ray Storm could not uncover a shred of evidence against this Louisiana Disaster Avoidance Task Force (LDAT) attorney eight years ago. Flay has not been seen since Katrina and is presumed dead. But is he?
Brian LeFay—
Martin Hennessey’s campaign manager and the brains behind his gubernatorial campaign. But LeFay has no past prior to Katrina. Who is he, and what does he hope to gain by putting Hennessey into the governor’s mansion?
Remy Comeaux—
Private detective and former NOPD narcotics detective.
Mack Rivet—
Former NOPD detective involved with the FBI investigation with Remy Comeaux and Ray Storm.
To Michael, for always.
Chapter One
Ray Storm dodged a pair of college girls on bikes sporting Tulane backpacks and frowned as he looked at the hamburger joint that sat exactly where his apartment had been back on August 29, 2005, the day Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. The corner of Octavia and Freret streets was almost unrecognizable. Not surprising, but disconcerting.
He’d watched the coverage
24/7, like everyone who had been in New Orleans on that day. Later, he’d watched the in-depth news stories and the TV specials, and because he’d been an FBI agent, he’d read top secret memos and reports unavailable to the general public.
Now, eight years later, he stared at where he’d lived then, struck anew by the knowledge that not only had Katrina changed New Orleans and the world forever,
she had changed him, as well.
Before his brain could start down the dangerous path of how different things might have been if that particular storm hadn’t struck on that particular night in that particular city, a striking, vaguely familiar figure caught his eye. A tall woman with café au lait skin, dressed in slim jeans and red platform heels, emerged from between two massive Hollywood South
eighteen-wheelers, dragging every male gaze away from the bustle of director chairs, booms and cameras in her wake. Ray shook his head in wonder at the woman he’d known eight years ago as a hopped-up C.I.
Another life changed by Katrina, that graceless lady.
Angelica DePuye didn’t stop until her nose was less than two inches from his. She propped her fists on her slim hips. “I swear
to Pete. You are alive and breathing. I thought I’d gotten a call from beyond the grave.” She smiled. “You might be surprised at how often that happens these days.”
Ray put his hands on her shoulders and took a step backward, eyeing her with his brows raised. “Looks like the past eight years have been good to you, Angel.”
“Humph,” she snorted delicately and tossed her head, sending the
sleek ponytail anchored at the crown of her head swishing, then kissed his cheek. “You can call me Officer DePuye,” she retorted, sliding a hand into her jeans pocket and slipping the edge of an instantly recognizable black leather case free for an instant. “But not in public. These days I’m a narc.”
Her mouth was twisted in a mocking smile, but Ray saw the pride in her dark eyes. “No way,”
he said. “That’s great.”
Before Katrina, Angel had been a heroin addict and NOPD officer Mack Rivet’s confidential informant. She shrugged. “After Katrina, I lost my C.I. cred, and believe it or not, it was damned hard to find H at any price.” She shrugged as she tucked the badge case back into her pocket. “I had to do something.”
“Something,” Ray echoed, a chuckle in his voice. “Which
in your case was merely to get sober and enter the police academy.”
“Well, it wasn’t as easy as it sounds. Buy me a cup of coffee,” she said, gesturing toward the café with a toss of her ponytail, “and tell me what’s brought your Yankee butt down here again.”
They went into the burger joint, where, with the exception of the scowling man behind the counter, they were the oldest by at
least ten years. All the customers and most of the waitstaff had the earnest, freshly washed faces of college students.
Ray gestured for two coffees, then sat back. “A lot has changed.”
“First words out of everybody’s mouth when they come back,” Angel commented.
The waitress set the thick white cups in front of them and managed to mumble something and pop her gum at the same time.
“Might be a cliché, but it’s true,” he said, shaking his head at the girl, figuring there was a 90 percent chance she’d asked if they needed anything else. Once she’d moved on to the next table, he leaned forward. “Tell me about Mack and Remy.” Remy Comeaux and Mack Rivet were the two NOPD officers who had worked with him on the Louisiana Disaster Avoidance Task Force Investigations Team back
in 2005. “The FBI pulled me out of there so fast once Katrina hit that I wasn’t able to contact either of them.”
Angel shook her head. “So you didn’t know that Lee Barnaby had ’em both arrested—”
“What?” Ray said. “I knew there were some officers who got out of line. But not Mack or Remy. Why in hell would he arrest two of the best cops he—” Ray stopped.
Angel quirked a brow. “Yep.
I think you figured out the answer to that one. Probably hoping to shut them up about your sting operation. But I’m guessing Mack’s and Remy’s files say looting and assault.”
Ray was stunned. Mack and Remy were two of the most stand-up guys he’d ever known. His mentor, Mitch Stone at the FBI office in Washington, D.C., had handpicked them to work with Ray on the multiorganizational team to
investigate corruption in the LDAT because of their spotless records. They’d been young, like him, but they’d already proved themselves to be detective material.
“I just read something about Barnaby. Wasn’t he ousted from his new position as police chief?”
Angel sipped her coffee. “Yep. He’s under indictment for corruption and murder. Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy,”
she said wryly, then smiled. “That was Remy’s doing. Oh, and Mack tracked me down a couple of months ago looking for a hacker. He wanted information about Melvin Landry’s financials as well as Mayor Barrow’s. Someone had been skimming funds from the city’s rebuilding funds and Mack was sure it was Barrow and Landry.”
“Melvin Landry. That’s Mack’s wife’s father?”
“Yes. It turned out he
was innocent, but Mack was instrumental in bringing down the mayor and Tate Manning, Landry’s lawyer, for stealing the city rebuilding funds.” Angel looked at her watch. “I’ve got to get going,” Angel said. “I’ve got a sentencing hearing in an hour.”
Ray stood with her. “So Remy and Mack brought down Barnaby and Mayor Barrow.”
“You got it,” she said with a laugh. “Now, if you can get
the goods on Hennessey, we’ll have ourselves a Big Easy hat trick.”
“That is exactly why I’m here,” Ray said, “and why I called you. I need to get in touch with Mack and Remy.”
“I’ve got a phone number for Remy,” she said and gave him the information. “Now, seriously, I’m going to be late.”
“Okay,” he said. He kissed her on the cheek. “Good to see you, and congratulations on the
job.” He pulled back and looked her in the eye. “One last thing. How in hell does Hennessey, with his history, have the nerve to run for governor?”
Angel straightened her caramel-colored leather jacket and swiped a hand over the sleeked-back hair at her temple. Then she gave Ray an eloquent shrug and shook her head. “What can I say?” she remarked. “This is the Big Easy,
cher.
” She turned
and walked toward the door. Ray threw some bills down on the table and followed her.
Outside, she turned to him with a knowing look. “By the way, remember Hennessey’s little sister, Molly?” she asked innocently.
Ray swallowed. He wouldn’t forget Molly Hennessey if he lived a million years, although he wasn’t going to say that to Angel. He’d been undercover as a law student doing an internship
with the LDAT over the summer and Molly had been volunteering in her brother’s office during her summer vacation from Tulane Law School.
Ray had flirted with her and eventually taken her to bed. He’d gotten what he’d wanted—proof that Hennessey was skimming federal funds. Ray had set up a sting operation to catch Hennessey and several other LDAT officials who were involved, but he’d hurt
Molly.
“Ray?” Angel said, snapping her fingers in front of his eyes.
“What? Yeah. Hennessey’s little sister,” he said flatly.
“Yeah. Martin Hennessey went to work as a real-estate lawyer after Katrina, working with a greasy character who’s made a fortune flipping houses and doing who knows what else. Molly took over her brother’s law practice when he decided to run for governor.”
“Who’s the greasy character?”
“Flannery Thrasher. How’s that for a ten-dollar name? Get this. He’s campaign manager for Hennessey. Word is, he’ll be secretary of state when Hennessey wins.”
Ray felt relieved. “So at least that means Molly’s not working for him.”
“That don’t mean a thing. Thrasher’s with Martin 24/7.”
“What are you saying?”
Angel shrugged. “I’m just
saying Remy thought you might want to know about him, so I ran him. Turns out I couldn’t find a damn thing about Flannery Thrasher before 2005.”
Ray frowned. “That’s true of a lot of people, isn’t it? Weren’t hundreds of thousands of documents destroyed in the floods? I lost almost every piece of information I’d collected on the LDAT.”
“Sure. But New Orleans vital records for the year
of Thrasher’s birth are intact, but there’s no record of anyone by that name.”
“And you did the searches yourself?”
“I damn sure did.”
“You mentioned Molly.”
Angel checked her watch again. “I met her a couple of times. She seemed like a very sweet girl. But she’s surrounded by corruption—her brother, Thrasher, who knows who else. She needs somebody to watch out for her, or
she’s going to get hurt.”
* * *
T
HE
NEXT
MORNING
, Ray sat in the restaurant of the Monteleone hotel looking at the newspaper. The front page had two huge headlines. Most prominent was Hennessey Receives Coveted Endorsement, accompanied by a smiling photo of him and the senior U.S. senator from Louisiana. Slightly smaller and positioned just to the right of Hennessey’s photo was the second
headline. Does Corruption Extend Beyond Police Department and Mayor’s Office?
Ray chuckled, then reached around the paper to pick up his café au lait.
“I had a good laugh when I saw that this morning, too,” a familiar voice said from behind him. Remy Comeaux pulled out a chair with one hand and waved the waitress over with the other. He pointed at Ray’s mug. She nodded.
Ray set
the paper aside. “Good to see you,” he said.
Remy eyed him. “Yeah, you, too. Surprised, though. What’s the occasion?”
“I just came off a deep undercover assignment and found out that you called the FBI offices looking for me a couple of months ago.”
“I wondered why you didn’t get back to me,” Remy replied. “How deep?”
Ray lifted his mug. “Four years.”
“Whoa.” Remy shook
his head. “Hope it was worth it.”
“Yeah.” Ray made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “It’s over now. I guess you called about Barnaby?”
The waitress set a mug in front of Remy. He nodded his thanks. “That’s right. I thought you’d want to know that things had come to a head again after all this time. By the way, Angel said y’all talked yesterday.”
“She brought me up-to-date,” Ray
said.
“I gotta say, it’s nice to know all I have to do is pick up the phone and you’ll come running,” Remy said wryly.
“Anything for you, sweetheart,” Ray drawled. “But I didn’t come down here because of your phone call—figured you’d already have your problem solved. Before I went undercover, I tried to keep up with what was going on down here, especially with our four friends from LDAT.
So when the assignment was over and I got the message that you’d called, I started catching up on everything I’d missed. The first thing I saw was that Hennessey was running for governor.”
“Can you believe those bastards came out of Katrina smelling like roses? I was in Houston when I saw that Barnaby had gotten the chief of police position. All I could think was he’d have even more power.
So I came back to stop him.”
“Good job,” Ray said simply. “Why’d you leave in the first place? New Orleans is in your blood.”
A shadow crossed Remy’s face. “Barnaby threw Mack and me into jail for ‘looting.’ But the flooding tripped the electronic locks and I just walked out. I went to find Carlotta, but she never showed up at the hospital where she worked. I searched for weeks, but
you saw how it was down here, right? So I had to accept that she was gone, along with my job and my city, so I left.”
“Oh, man, I am so sorry—” Ray started, but Remy held up his hand, grinning.
“Don’t be. Coming back here was the best thing I ever did. I came back looking for Barnaby and I found Carlotta. We’re getting married.” Remy’s normally solemn face glowed.
Ray nodded. “That’s
great, man. What about Mack?”
“Same song, second verse. He walked out of the jail, too, but I had no idea where he was. Turns out he thought his wife and new baby were dead, too, so he slunk back into the bayou to nurse his wounds. Only, he still got the newspaper, so when Barnaby went down, he contacted me. He was ready to clear our names. He was staking out a party by the local elite and
who does he spot alive and well? His wife, Lily. And then he helped bring down more of the players.”
“So he ended up proving that Mayor Barrow was in on the government corruption with Barnaby,” Ray filled in. “Good job, both of you. Where’s Mack now?”
“He and Lily and their son are on a long, quiet vacation at the beach, getting to know each other again.”
Ray tapped a finger on
the newspaper. “What do you know about Hennessey?”
Remy drained the last of his café au lait and pushed the mug aside. “You mean, can we bring him to the party?” he asked.
Ray nodded. “We had him dead to rights.” He held up his closed fist. “We even had a plea agreement with Flay.”
“
Had
is right,” Remy said with a shake of his head. “Teague Fortune, a detective here in the Sixth,
ran Flay for me. There’s not a damn thing on him after the storm. No credit cards, no checks. Not even a driver’s license or a tax return.”
“What does the Department of Public Records do about somebody who just disappears?”
Remy shrugged. “You kidding me? Somebody who disappeared during Katrina? Nothing.”
“So you’re telling me that Flay is missing and presumed dead?”
“Hell,
Ray. It’s been eight years. Ain’t no presumed about it. Too bad we never had a chance to use that plea bargain.”
Ray muttered a few curses he’d learned at his dad’s knee. “That sucks. I was counting on Flay’s testimony. Most of my evidence was destroyed in the flood. Did you manage to salvage anything?”
Remy shook his head. “Anything that Katrina didn’t destroy Barnaby and Barrow got
rid of.”