Cover Me (4 page)

“Lee Barnaby is not the knight in police armor he portrays. He’s corrupt to the core and has been for years.”

“Corrupt in what way?”

“At the very least he takes bribes. And I have reason to believe his crimes could
be a lot worse.”

Her stomach knotted. She shouldn’t listen to another word of these baseless accusations, not from a man she had no reason to trust. Even if Remy was sincere, that didn’t mean he was right. He hadn’t worked for the NOPD in years.

She uncrossed her legs and stood. “I think you should go now, Remy.”

He stood but didn’t walk away. When his gaze captured hers, her knees
grew weak. Heaven help her, but even now, she felt the crazy urge to throw herself into his arms.

“I’m only telling you this for your own protection. You can do what you want with the information.”

“Why would you think you should protect me? You don’t know me. You don’t owe me anything.”

He crossed the room and stopped so near her that a hint of his musky, woodsy aftershave filled
her senses. He took both of her hands in his. “I came because it was the right thing to do.”

His lips were so close she was sure he was going to kiss her. Her insides melted into a pool of slick heat. This was absurd. She should back away.

But it was Remy who came to his senses. He let go of her hands and took a step backward. He removed a business card from his pocket and pressed it
into her hand.

“If you need to talk,” he said, his voice hoarse from what sounded a lot like desire, “if you need me for anything at all, just call.”

He left her standing alone and staring after him as he let himself out her door. The click of his heels echoed around her. And suddenly the room felt incredibly empty without him in it.

She took a deep breath and struggled for a grip
on reality as she read his card.

Remy Comeaux. Private Detective. The business address was in Houston, Texas.

Standing next to Remy and staring into his hypnotic eyes, it was easy to believe everything he said. But he’d lied about being Lee’s friend. He’d even lied about his name. Why should she trust what he said now?

On impulse, she took her phone from her purse and punched in
Lee’s phone number. He was a friend. She owed him a chance to explain and defend himself against Remy’s accusations.

Chapter Six

Nicole switched the bag holding cartons of Chinese food into her left hand and used her right to fit the key into Lee’s front-door lock. Once inside, she quickly turned off the alarm system and made her way to the kitchen to unpack the food.

Lee had given her a key to his house over a month ago, the first time she was to meet him there for an early dinner. He’d
explained that his schedule was so unpredictable that he never knew when he’d be detained.

He’d also encouraged her to come over and make use of his pool anytime. He’d even shown her where he kept a hidden key to the back door just in case she locked herself out, and a key to the privacy-fence gate in case she wanted to stroll along the shady path that meandered through his country-club neighborhood.

He had a reputation for being tough on criminals and running the department with an iron hand, but he had never been anything but thoughtful with her. His patience was starting to wear thin with her unwillingness to be intimate with him. But he’d been a lot slower at reaching that point than other men she’d dated.

Only, where was that reluctance with Remy? Would she have pulled away if
he’d kissed her tonight, or would she have thrown herself at him like a sex-starved nympho?

Thankfully, she hadn’t been put to the test.

Nicole set the table while she waited for Lee. Then she lit candles and put out wineglasses, creating a setting that she hoped would open the lines of communication regarding Remy.

She left the choice of wines from his extensive selection to Lee.
The man did live well. While his spacious home in the Metairie Country Club neighborhood was nowhere near as extravagantly furnished as the Delacroixes’, it had the handprint of one of the city’s most prominent decorators embedded in every detail.

But then, he didn’t have to live on his salary. His father had been a very successful shipping magnate before he and Lee’s mother had died in a
private plane crash while flying to their Cape Cod estate.

Nicole walked out the back door, took a bottle of water from the refrigerator in his outdoor kitchen and then kicked out of her shoes. She took a beach towel and spread it on the side of his magnificent pool so that she could sit and dangle her feet in the cool water. Kids’ laughter and voices drifted from the other side of the six-foot
privacy fence.

Lee’s world.

Lee Barnaby, the ultimate cop, the celebrated new chief of police, a slave to the law, always driven to keep his city safe. She’d never had any reason to believe he was anything less.

Until Remy had stepped into her life.

She had no reason to believe the ex-cop turned private eye. Yet his need to protect her seemed so convincing. Why else would he
have come to see her? Certainly not to seduce her, or he would have at least kissed her when she was practically drooling.

After ten minutes of agonizing, she went back inside. A phone was ringing, but it wasn’t the one in the kitchen. Still, she should find and answer it in case it was Lee saying how much longer he’d be delayed or if he had to cancel their evening together.

She located
the piercing instrument at the end of the hallway in what appeared to be Lee’s home office. Before she could answer it, the caller hung up.

The light on the answering machine was blinking. Maybe it had been Lee and he’d left a message. She pressed the button.

There were two calls, neither from Lee. One was from someone named Mia, and the call sounded urgent. Nicole recognized the prefix
as being from the Cayman Islands only because Dr. Cantrell and his wife, Leslie, had just returned from vacationing there. As his office manager, she’d had to call him several times on business matters.

Perhaps Lee was planning a trip there, as well. Or else he had business there—or investments. There were countless legitimate reasons for him to have received that call.

Still, suspicions
began to bounce around in her mind. If Lee were guilty of taking bribes, he might use a bank in the Islands to hide the extra income.

Impulsively, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and called the number that had been left on Lee’s machine. She reached a recorded message that explained the bank was closed for normal business hours and provided another number in case of an emergency.
A sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

“Hello, my sweet.”

Nicole jumped at the sound of Lee’s voice.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Apparently. So what are you doing back here in my office?”

“The phone was ringing. I thought it might be you trying to reach me.”

His brows arched. “Had I wanted you, I’d have
called your cell phone.”

“I was poolside for a few minutes. I thought I might have missed a call from you saying why you were running late.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I should have gotten in touch. There’s been one emergency after another today. Since you checked, did I have any messages that sounded important?”

“I couldn’t say. I punched the skip button as soon as I realized the messages
weren’t from you.”

He smiled, and for the first time since he’d arrived, he appeared to relax. He put an arm around her waist and kissed her on the mouth. As usual, she felt nothing. The total opposite of Remy’s almost kiss.

“The messages can wait,” he said. “I’m starved and I smell Chinese food. I’m glad you decided to come over tonight. Like I said, it’s been a hell of a day.”

As they ate, Lee detailed a run-in with the D.A. and a problem one of his best detectives was having with a brutality accusation. Nicole only half listened as she forced down a few bites of food.

She waited until Lee’s plate was almost empty before tackling the subject that had stolen her appetite.

“Did Remy Comeaux ever find you at the party last evening?”

Lee’s demeanor changed
in an instant. His muscles strained and veins popped out on his forehead as if just the name enraged him. “How do you know Remy Comeaux?”

“I don’t really know him.” Not actually a lie. “I met him at the Delacroixes’. He said he was a close friend of yours.”

Lee muttered a string of curses. “Why didn’t you tell me last night that you’d met him?”

“It slipped my mind. There was a lot
going on.”

“Believe me, Remy is no friend. He had no business being there and even less business harassing you.”

“He didn’t harass me. We only exchanged a few words.” No reason to mention that she’d initiated it.

“I don’t suppose he told you that he’s a dirty cop I had arrested eight years ago, just before Katrina hit.”

“Did he do jail time?”

“No. Unfortunately the evidence
against him was lost in the resulting floods, the same as it was in a lot of other cases. Remy left town and I had far more important matters to tend to at that point than a cop who’d disgraced his badge.”

“Why do you think he’s come back to town now?” she questioned.

“To cause trouble for me.”

“Why? You’d think he’d just be glad he escaped prosecution.”

“It’s a vendetta with
him. His girlfriend drowned in the flooding or else she just took advantage of the opportunity to dump him. Anyway, he blames me for that.”

“Because you’d had him arrested?”

“Right. He claimed he’d have been there to keep her safe if he hadn’t been behind bars. More likely he’d have been looting a local business while the owners fled to safety. Remy Comeaux is bad news and always has
been. If he comes anywhere near you, call me. I’ll take care of it from there.”

“Are you
ordering
me not to talk to him?”

“For you own good.”

She’d never seen this side of Lee. If having Remy in town upset him this much, it made Remy’s accusations seem a lot more credible.

Lee pushed his plate away and stood. “Food was great, but I’ve had enough. Talk of Remy would make any
man lose his appetite. And unfortunately, I’ve got to go back down to headquarters to look at some reports.”

“You should have told me you have to work tonight. We could have had dinner together another time.”

“I wanted to see you, and a man has to eat.”

Only, he didn’t look that glad to see her now. He looked distracted and distant, and fury continued to strain every line in his
face.

Whatever had happened between Lee and Remy went far deeper than just a botched arrest from years ago.

“Why don’t you go check your messages while I clean off the table?” she offered.

“Okay, but just rinse the dishes and leave them in the sink. The cleaning woman can take care of the rest in the morning. She’s only here half a day on Tuesdays, but that’s long enough to clean
the kitchen.”

“It only takes a few minutes more to put them in the dishwasher.”

“Suit yourself.”

By the time Lee returned to the kitchen, everything was as spotless as she’d found it.

“I ought to have that phone disconnected,” Lee said. “All I get on it are nuisance calls.”

“I take it the messages weren’t important.”

“People wanting contributions.”

Nicole doubted
that a bank in the Cayman Islands was looking for a donation.

When Lee walked her to her car, she was more confused than ever. Remy’s words haunted her all the way home. Not only did he insist that Lee was corrupt and guilty of taking bribes, but that he could be guilty of something even worse.

But how much worse?

The only way to find out was to talk to Remy again.

* * *

R
EMY
WAS
UP
AND
ON
the job early Tuesday morning. He finally caught up with Reggio Sanchez in Algiers. He was out back of the house in a cloud of marijuana smoke while he watched two men strip the tires from a Buick that was up on blocks. Remy figured the car was stolen.

Reggio greeted Remy’s arrival with a flick of the joint that dangled from his lips. “What took you so long, Comeaux?
I could tell by the smell you were back in town.”

“Yeah. Couldn’t stay away from the old gang.”

Reggio sneered. “I hear you been running all over town trying to find me. You got business with me?”

“Just hoping to catch a preview of your latest action flick. Heard it was based on your visit to Jessie Klein the morning you filled her with lead.”

“As usual, you got your facts
wrong.” Reggio took a long drag and blew the smoke Remy’s way. “Movie was all police fabrication. I was out of town the day poor, lying Jessie Klein got shot.”

“That’s not what Doyle Shriver said.”

“Should have known he’d be a friend of yours. You dirty cops have a union or something?”

“Did you kill Shriver, too?”

“No. Had no reason to. I hear he left one swell-looking widow,
though. May have to drop by and give her a little comfort. Show her what a real man’s like.”

“You lay one finger on Syl Shriver, Sanchez, and I’ll personally see that you get run up the flagpole in front of city hall.”

The two men who’d pretended not to be listening stepped away from the car as if on cue. One had a pistol stuck in the waistband of his ragged-edged cutoffs.

Remy
had no doubt the other was also toting. Probably had knives on them, as well, as would Reggio.

Remy had no intention of taking them on. He didn’t care for the odds. But if he had to defend himself, his own pistol was in easy reach, resting in the shoulder holster under his lightweight windbreaker.

Reggio leaned against the front fender of the Buick, grinning as if he found this whole
encounter a big joke.

“Sounds like you got the hots for the woman yourself. Guess you finally got over that bitch you were screwing before Katrina. I heard some of my bros had a real good time with her before they dumped her in the bayou.”

Remy lost control in an instant. The first punch sent Reggio doubling over with pain.

The click of cocking triggers brought him back into focus.
In a heartbeat the short barrel of his automatic was pressed against Reggio’s right temple.

“Put ’em away, bros,” Reggio ordered. “This is between me and Comeaux. We’re just expressin’ a difference of opinion.”

“Toss your guns into that wooded area behind the house,” Remy ordered. “Reggio here will walk me to my truck. Always nice to have the kind of friend who’ll watch my back.”

The men hesitated until Reggio nodded his okay. Even then it was clear they were not too happy about complying.

Remy lowered his gun but kept it in hand with his finger on the trigger as he and Reggio rounded the corner of the wood-frame house and walked to his truck.

“Tell your buddy the new chief of police hello for me,” Remy said as he climbed behind the wheel. “And then you’d be wise
to hire the best lawyer all that drug money can buy. Your high-powered partner in crime is going down, and he might just take you along for the crash.”

“Talk’s cheap, Comeaux. You aren’t tough enough to play in this city. You never were.”

Remy let the comment ride. Talk was cheap. It was time for action.

The son of a bitch’s arrogance told Remy all he needed to know. Reggio was
definitely guilty. He’d killed Jessie and likely Doyle, as well. Remy had a hunch the latter was at Lee’s bidding.

If he could prove that, no jury in Louisiana would let the illustrious police chief or Reggio Sanchez walk free.

His phone rang just as he pulled into a drive-through burger joint for a cup of brew to go. He yanked the phone from his pocket, hoping the call would be from
Ray Storm or Mack Rivet. His former partners in the original investigation of Lee Barnaby were both proving to be more difficult to track down than he’d expected.

The caller ID said Nicole Smith.

Surprise and pleasure battled for front and center.

Even though he’d told her to call if she needed anything at all, he hadn’t expected to hear from her. “Hello.”

“Remy, it’s Nicole.
I hate to bother you, but I think this could be important.”

The alarm in her voice put the pleasure on hold. “It’s not a bother. What’s up?”

“Can you meet me at my office? It’s downtown and easy to get to.”