Hey, y’all, anybody home?” a familiar female voice called from the front porch.
Standing closest to the front of Gabe’s house, Molly turned to the screen door, blocked out the very loud celebration going on behind her, and grinned. André stood on the front porch with Farrah and ADA Cardozo.
Glancing over her shoulder for Shoe—he was lying on his back next to the living room sofa, begging unashamedly for belly rubs from Harper—Molly opened the door. “Y’all are welcome, but fair warning—you may not fit.”
It was true. Gabe’s small house was filled to bursting with old friends and new, and Gabe was holding court in his own kitchen, his cousin Patty at his side. They’d all decided to put sadness for the victims aside for a day, to enjoy one another’s company without the fear that had burdened them all week.
Xavier, Carlos, and Manny were on the back porch with Phin and Antoine, having beers and talking about football. Val, Cicely, and Willa Mae sat on bar stools at the kitchen counter, each on their second glass of wine. Or third. Nobody was counting. Willa Mae had been asking all kinds of questions about roller derby and Val was telling stories that had the women howling with laughter.
It was so good to hear.
Lucien had been released from the hospital that morning and lay on the sofa, his feet in Chelsea’s lap. Molly had been happy to see that the two were getting friendly. Lucien was a good man and Chelsea appeared ready to date again. That Harper already adored him was a huge plus.
Burke sat in Gabe’s recliner, feet up, head back, eyes closed, and his hands folded on his stomach. It was his favorite pose. Joy sat in her wheelchair, smiling contentedly. The mostly empty hurricane glass in her hand might have had something to do with that. Patty had fixed it for her as soon as she’d rolled through the door, having remembered it was Joy’s drink of choice from the night of Molly’s birthday. But Molly thought that Joy had been most pleased with the ramp that had greeted her when she’d arrived. Molly had woken that morning in Gabe’s bed, smelling coffee and hearing the sounds of a hammer and power saw.
He’d wanted to make sure that all of her friends felt welcome.
“Long time no see,” she said to André and Cardozo, who’d taken their statements the night before. “And, Farrah, I’m always glad to see you. Come on in.”
“Something smells good,” Farrah said, giving Molly a hug as she entered.
“That’s because it is good,” Molly said. “Gabe and Patty have been cooking all day.”
“Who’s minding the Choux?” Farrah asked. “I heard that it’s back open today.”
Patty and Gabe had decided that with Ducote’s threat neutralized, they’d reopen the restaurant. Keeping it closed on one of the busiest weekends of the year would only be hurting their waitstaff, who’d lose their tip income. They’d both kept their cell phones close by, but so far no one from the Choux had called them for advice or assistance. The lines to get in were even longer than normal, though, with Gabe’s recent fame. The video of him standing up to Ducote had gone viral and the restaurant’s social media was abuzz with those wanting a glimpse of the crime-fighting celebrity chef.
“The new assistant manager.” Molly grimaced. “Luckily that Donna Lee bitch was training someone to cover for her on her days off. There’s all kinds of food on the counter in the kitchen. Go and help yourselves.”
“Oh, man.” Cardozo looked annoyed. “If I’d known there’d be food, I wouldn’t have eaten before I came.”
“There’s dessert,” Molly said. “Gabe made his chocolate cake.”
“Did you sneak a peek at the recipe?” Farrah asked.
“No need.” Gabe made his way to the door, where he shook Cardozo’s hand, gave André a man-hug, and wrapped his arms around Farrah for a legit hug. Then he gave André’s fiancée a sealed envelope. “I wrote it down for you. Don’t spread it around, okay?”
Farrah clutched the envelope to her bosom like it was diamonds. “Oh, I won’t. But you don’t have to do this.”
Gabe teasingly reached for the envelope. “You can give it back.”
“Oh, no,” Farrah said. “I’m polite, not stupid.” She folded the envelope and slid it down into her bra, laughing when Gabe yanked his hand back. “Safest place ever.”
“Except from me,” André said with an indulgent smile.
She leaned into her fiancé. “Except from you.” She turned to Molly. “These two have come to talk to you guys. I came to meet the rest of your group. Introduce me.”
So Molly did, bringing the guys from the backyard inside before introducing the three newcomers to everyone in the house. Gabe offered them beers and Farrah was immediately charmed by Willa Mae, as were they all.
“When André told me that you were representing Molly, Gabe, and Xavier, I looked you up,” she told the older woman. “You did some good work, ma’am. Helped a lot of people.”
Willa Mae grew serious at the compliment. “You did, too. You gave Gabe, Molly, Chelsea, and Harper shelter when they needed it most. We won’t be forgetting that.”
Once introductions were done, André held up a hand. “We don’t have a lot of time,” he said when everyone had gathered round. “I figured you’d want some questions answered.”
“And maybe you’d answer a few of ours,” Cardozo added. “Quid pro quo, you know.”
“You first,” Burke said, his expression wary.
André shook his head with a chuckle. “Fine, fine. Good to know that some things never change. Okay, so… Cresswell was released.” He held up his hand at the gasps of outrage. “He’s been put on administrative leave.”
“With pay?” Willa Mae asked with a scowl.
“Yes, ma’am,” André said. “For now. We’ve had our eye on him for a while, so don’t get upset just yet. You, of all people, know that these things take time.”
“Didn’t take you long to arrest Ducote,” Antoine said, arms crossed over his chest.
“That’s because we were already investigating him,” Cardozo said. “I was already investigating him. I took this assignment primarily to go undercover at the DA’s office. I’ve been working with the state justice department for the past three months, gathering intel on Ducote. We didn’t know about any of this murder business, though. We were looking at him for possible extortion and bribes.”
“He had a list in the safe in his home office,” André added. “We found it last night. Over two dozen names of people he’d enabled to escape a criminal charge. Everything from murder to child—” He broke it off, looking over his shoulder to make sure Harper couldn’t overhear. Luckily, Lucien had given her his headphones and she was playing a game on her tablet. “To the sexual assault of a child,” André went on, lowering his voice. “Anyway, he’d been extorting favors from these people for years.”
“Tyson Whitley,” Molly said, “and George Haslet.” The man who’d killed Xavier’s intruder in the Houston hospital and the man whose car Ducote stole the morning he killed Mule. “He got their charges dropped?”
“Exactly,” André said. “Two other names on that list were Cornell Eckert and LeRoy Hodges, the attorney who was representing him. The ME who did Rocky’s autopsy was on the list, too. We picked up both the ME and the attorney and will question them. The FBI took over Eckert’s case, as they’d been watching him for a while. They’re hoping to close several cases with what they found when they searched his home.”
“Hold on,” Molly said, wanting to be clear. “You were investigating Ducote for abuse of power?”
“Yes,” Cardozo said. “When Houston PD showed Whitley his name on Ducote’s list—all the other names redacted, of course—he took a deal in exchange for admitting to being blackmailed into killing the man in the hospital. Ducote didn’t tell him who the man was or why he needed to be killed, and Whitley didn’t ask.”
“What kind of deal?” Xavier asked tightly.
“Death penalty off the table,” Cardozo said. “Whitley will serve time, though. No way around that.”
“Is my son in danger from any of them?” Cicely asked.
“No, ma’am,” André said. “Not as far as we know. We’ll make sure you’re kept up-to-date on everything that happens. Houston PD still wants to talk to Xavier, but I don’t expect Willa Mae will let them badger him too much.”
“Not while I live and breathe,” Willa Mae declared.
“They were a little put off that you were his counsel,” André said with a smile. “You’ve got a reputation.”
Willa Mae lifted her wineglass. “Every bit of it earned.”
“I will not disagree with that,” André said respectfully. “So that was why Ducote was being investigated. When his assistant went missing, J.P. alerted us.”
“Who’s J.P.?” Carlos asked.
“That’s me,” Cardozo said. “Most folks call me J.P., because my name is Jean-Pierre. Ducote insisted on calling me by my full name and he always made it sound like it tasted bad in his mouth.”
“The dead woman in the bayou was his assistant?” Burke asked.
Cardozo nodded. “Ashley Resnick. She was young and brash and…” He sighed. “Ducote was a charmer. He set his hook and reeled her in.”
“She was responsible for her own actions,” Val said with uncharacteristic venom.
Molly blinked, as did Burke.
Cardozo’s gaze flew to Val, lingering for a moment before he nodded again. “You’re quite right, Miss Sorensen. Ashley Resnick was responsible for her actions, and she paid dearly for her mistake. We don’t know exactly why Ducote killed her. I imagine she caught wind of some part of his scheme. I don’t think she was a lawbreaker, but she was very naive.”
“CSU found traces of blood in the washroom off Ducote’s office,” André said. “We found a cleaver in the trunk of that stolen car. We believe he dismembered her right there in the washroom.”
Antoine grimaced. “Goddammit, André.”
André rolled his eyes. “For God’s sake, Antoine. I had to ID the woman’s head.”
Antoine made a sick noise, wrinkling his nose. Gabe handed him another beer.
“It’ll help,” Gabe said, and Antoine guzzled the beer down, still grimacing.
“Ducote’s driver came by the police station last night,” André said. “He was very shaken. He wanted no one to think that he’d been involved in Ducote’s crimes. He was, in fact, able to fill in a lot of blanks. He said that he’d been Ducote’s driver for twenty years. He remembered Nadia Hall and remembered taking Ducote by her house one night. Ducote didn’t go in, but the driver said that Ducote seemed satisfied when he saw that the lights were on in the woman’s house.”
“He was checking up on his mistress,” Molly murmured. “April Frazier, Nadia’s best friend, said that her boyfriend was very controlling.”
“Then that fits,” André said. “The driver also said that the night before Ducote killed Mule, he left the office with two large boxes wrapped in silver paper. We found the boxes and the used paper in the trunk of the stolen car at Mule’s murder scene. The paper had been wiped clean of prints, and Ducote had triple-bagged the victim’s remains.”
“He knew what he was doing,” Molly said. “Probably saw enough criminals make mistakes and learned from them.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Cardozo said. “He had a really decent plan, but he didn’t count on a few things. And that’s where you guys come in. He’d planned to disassociate himself from Ashley’s murder.”
Burke’s jaw tightened. “He blamed it on Joelle, his wife. We saw the note on the passenger seat when we were getting her out of her car yesterday.”
“What was his ‘decent plan’?” Xavier asked, using air quotes.
“He’d made a recording of him and his wife having an argument on his phone,” Cardozo said. “Which, thankfully, was still in his pocket when he died—along with his wife’s phone. Our tech guys were able to break into Ducote’s cell. He’d used a program to create a clip of her voice, rearranging the things she said. Then, just before he left for the dinner, he used his wife’s cell phone to call his desk phone.”
“He played the recording,” Molly guessed, “so it would sound like she was still alive?”
“Exactly,” Cardozo said. “He knew that his assistant would be curious and made sure she could hear the whole thing. We think he planned to ‘discover’ his wife’s body when he got home from the fundraising dinner.”
“But he’d have an alibi for the time of her death because the assistant heard Joelle alive before he went to the dinner,” Burke said. “I have to admit, that is kind of a good plan.”
“What time did he make the call?” Gabe asked.
Cardozo’s lips curved into a satisfied smile. “Right about the same time you discovered Joelle Ducote’s body in her car.”
Carlos made his voice sound older and crotchety. “And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for you meddling kids.”
André tried to hold back a grin but was unsuccessful. “Exactly. We might have been able to pin it all on him eventually, but you four showing up when you did was the nail in his coffin.”
“It also didn’t hurt that his new assistant was one of my people,” Cardozo said. “When I heard that he wanted to reassign his assistant, I stepped up to take Ashley into my own office. I wanted to keep eyes on her because I suspected that she was involved in his schemes somehow, even if she was unaware. We made sure that Carrie was assigned to Ducote, and she played a very convincing gossip. Enough that he chose her for his alibi. When Ashley didn’t show up to work Thursday morning, I knew something was wrong. She’d never missed a day, even though Ducote claimed she sometimes called in sick because of a hangover. And then… André showed me a photo of the remains.”
“You knew her,” Gabe said. “Why did you let me know that you knew her that day when you interrogated me?”
“Just in case you weren’t who you appeared to be,” Cardozo said. “I wanted to see what your reaction would be. André vouched for you, but I needed to know.”
“And now you do?” Willa Mae asked sharply.
“Yes,” Cardozo said. “Totally convinced. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have let him go.”
“Oh, I think you would have,” Willa Mae said ominously.
“So now we have some questions,” André said, segueing smoothly. “How did you know about Ducote’s dog?”
“It was Gabe’s idea,” Xavier said. “I remembered Nadia Hall walking her dog when I was little. Before Katrina. Gabe wondered what happened to it because his dad hadn’t seen a dog when he discovered Nadia’s body that night.”
Cardozo studied all of them with a confused frown. “What’s this?”
Burke looked at André. “You didn’t tell him?”
André shrugged. “I don’t know it all myself.”
So, Xavier told his story and the rest of them jumped in to add details as needed, including how they’d found evidence in Rocky’s bank statements that had led them to Xavier. No one mentioned Xavier’s gun and his shooting of the home intruder, but they laid out everything else.
Cardozo looked stunned by the end of it, André a bit less so because he’d gleaned bits and pieces along the way.
“That is an incredible story,” Cardozo said. “I’m… wow. Impressed.”
“As you should be,” Burke said lightly. “We’re damned good investigators.”
“We found links between Ducote’s wives and his mistresses,” Molly added. “He gave Nadia a necklace and we found a photo of his first wife wearing either the same one or one identical to it. The same with Ashley and Joelle. The day Ashley visited Burke, she was wearing the same necklace that Joelle had on yesterday when we found her.”
“That man was bold,” André murmured.
“I’m surprised none of his wives or mistresses offed him first,” Farrah said, disgusted.
“He may have killed Lucille, wife number one,” Molly said. “She died just like Gabe’s father did.”
“We’ll add that to our formal investigation,” André promised.
“What about Mule?” Burke asked. “Have you connected him to any of Tobin’s goings-on?”
“And Paul Lott,” Gabe added. “He was my father’s attorney, but we think he was part of his murder as well.”
“You’d be right,” André said. “We found Paul Lott’s laptop in Tobin’s house when we searched it. Took our tech guys a little while to break through his security. Paul Lott had planted a keystroke counter on Rocky’s laptop and the Metairie sheriff’s department found a tracker under Rocky’s truck. We think Lott planted the tracker after Rocky asked him to set up a trust for Xavier.”
Burke frowned, darting a glance at Antoine. “I specifically checked for a tracker on Rocky’s truck. I didn’t find anything.”
“It was an older model,” André told him. “The battery had given out at some point in the past six weeks since Rocky’s death. The Metairie sheriff saw it when they put the truck up on a lift to check the undercarriage.”
“That’s how they knew my dad was looking for Dr. Benson,” Gabe said quietly.
Molly slipped her hand into his, just to remind him that he wasn’t alone. He squeezed lightly and turned to press a kiss to her temple. “I’m okay,” he said.
“That’s how he knew about me, too,” Xavier said, quieting his tone as well.
It was easy for folks to forget that this was Gabe’s father they were discussing so clinically. Molly would make sure they remembered that.
“But,” André continued, “Rocky was too wily and secretive, so Lott didn’t know where Xavier was.”
“Not until I called him for help,” Xavier muttered.
“Which was the right thing to do, given what you knew,” Gabe said firmly. “Dad’s priority was keeping you safe.”
“And we will be grateful forever,” Cicely said. “Your dad was a good man.”
Gabe’s smile was sad. “I know. But why did Lott do it?”
“Money,” André said gently. “We found a deposit of fifty thousand dollars in Lott’s bank account. We haven’t traced it yet, but I expect it will have come from either Ducote or Mule. Payment was made the day before your dad was killed.”
Gabe swallowed hard. “He killed my dad for money. When he died, did it hurt?”
“A lot,” André replied, his tone grown cold. “We believe Tobin killed him and… well, Lott did not die painlessly.”
“Good,” Gabe murmured. “I’m glad. That might make me a monster, but I’m glad.”
“Not a monster,” Molly said softly. “Just human. Don’t feel guilty about how you feel. André, why did Tobin kill him?”
“Lott had asked for more money. I guess they figured it was easier to kill him than to keep paying him.”
“But how did Paul Lott know that Ducote and Mule wanted the information?” Molly pressed.
“Lott kept impeccable records,” André said. “Back at the tenth anniversary of Katrina—when Rocky had tried to resurrect the case and told them he had an eyewitness—Lott was approached by Mule, who knew that Lott was willing to do shady deals. Lott agreed to keep an eye on Rocky. He never had anything to report until Rocky asked him to set up the trust for Xavier. At first Lott thought Xavier was Rocky’s illegitimate son. But then he did a check on Xavier’s full name and found that he was a survivor of Katrina. It was the Katrina link that sent Lott to Mule. That and the fact that he was facing bankruptcy. I don’t know how Lott and Rocky met, though.”
“Through one of the charities Dad volunteered at,” Gabe offered. “I was still living at home at the time, so it was at least twenty years ago. Lott did some pro bono work with a few troubled teens that Dad worked with. You might want to take another look at those cases.”
Cardozo groaned. “No more, please. We’re going to be sorting through Ducote’s mess for years to come.”
Gabe shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Not your fault,” André said. “Your father trusted Lott and was betrayed.”
“For money,” Gabe said sadly, and for a moment no one spoke, everyone grieving with him.
Standing next to Val, Patty cleared her throat. “What about Donna Lee?” she asked, her voice trembling. She’d figured out that by telling her parents about the danger, she’d provided Donna Lee with the information that had led to two deaths, and as Gabe had predicted, she was devastated.
“We’ll charge her,” Cardozo promised. “We’re not sure with what just yet. She knew that Tobin was an asshole because he was blackmailing her, but she says she didn’t know that he was working for Mule or that Mule had been involved with Rocky Hebert’s death.”
“Do you want her to serve time?” Molly asked Gabe.
“I don’t know,” Gabe answered honestly. “I haven’t had a chance to think about it.”
“I don’t know, either,” Patty confessed. “But I do know that I have to do something for the two who died. I’ve known Dusty Woodruff for years. I know his wife. Gabe and I catered their wedding and the baby shower for her first child. I…” Her voice broke. “I have to do something for them.”
Gabe put his free arm around his cousin’s shoulders, which were now shaking with quiet sobs. “You didn’t know, P. If you had, you would’ve turned Donna Lee in.”
“We have counselors on staff who work with victims of crime,” Cardozo said to Patty, breaking into Molly’s thoughts. “You and Gabe certainly qualify. Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll send you the contact information.”
Patty wiped the tears from her cheeks and nodded, sniffling. “I might take you up on that.”
“We both should,” Gabe said fiercely. “I still haven’t processed Dad’s death. He would have passed soon enough from the cancer, but those bastards stole what little time he had left.”
“We assumed that Mule gave Tobin the order to attack Molly’s and Patty’s apartments,” Burke said, taking the spotlight off the cousins, leaving them to whisper comfort to each other. “Is Tobin talking?”
“Not yet,” André said. “But he will.”
“He’s Mule’s son,” Cardozo supplied. “Illegitimate son, so they didn’t share a last name. Tobin was very loyal to Mule for a lot of years.” He grimaced. “We’ll be sorting through that mess for a very long time, too.”
“And all of Mule’s cases,” André added wearily. “It’s not going to be fun. Ducote and Mule had been giving each other legs up the ladder for decades. They’d been friends since high school.”
“We know,” Molly said. “We found photos of them at a reunion together, along with Paul Lott.”
Cardozo blew out a breath. “We’ll likely have quite a few more questions for you guys as we dig deeper.”
“Always happy to help,” Burke said dryly.
“And on that note, I have to get back to the precinct. The paperwork from this case is…” André shook his head. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
“I have to go, too,” Cardozo said. “But if I could sneak a slice of that cake?”
“Give me two seconds,” Gabe said and turned back to his kitchen.
Keeping his hands busy, Molly thought. She had some other ideas of how to distract him later. She’d have to watch the man closely to make sure he grieved and didn’t hold it all inside as he’d been doing before breaking down at Burke’s camp.
Only yesterday morning. Seemed like a lifetime ago already.
“I’d like to stay,” Farrah said. “If that’s okay.”
“You are always welcome here,” Gabe said over his shoulder. “Always.”
“We were going to head into the Quarter for the festival,” Molly said. It was the weekend of Satchmo SummerFest. “Our Houston friends wanted to go, and I’ve never been.”
Farrah’s smile brightened. “I can be your official guide. I have never missed a Satchmo. I know all the best places to listen to the music and get the best food. Second-best,” she amended. “Best is at the Choux.”
“Where you always have a table,” Patty said warmly. “All of you.”
Cicely smacked the countertop. “Then let’s not waste any more time. I want to hear some jazz.”
Molly walked André and Cardozo to the door. “I didn’t want to ask about Officer McCauley in front of everyone, because Gabe and Xavier are still having a hard time with his death, too. How is his family?”
André’s composure slipped, grief filling his eyes. “About as well as you’d expect. We’ll be making sure they’re taken care of, but thank you for asking.”
Molly swallowed. “He was protecting us. He was a hero. His wife needs to know that.”
“She will,” André promised.
“Thank you,” she said, then forced a smile, hoping to lighten André’s burden. “Especially for not putting us in jail.”
André winced. “Just try not to shoot any more people?” he asked hopefully.
Molly nodded. “I’ll be happy if I never shoot another person ever again.”
“That wasn’t a promise,” Cardozo said darkly.
Molly shrugged. “You want me to lie?”
André sighed. “No. Just… never mind. J.P., you ready to roll?”
“Yeah. Drop me off at the courthouse?” Cardozo asked as they went down the ramp that covered the stairs.
“You are one lucky girl,” Joy observed from behind her when Molly turned from the screen door. “This whole mess could have ended up a helluva lot worse.”
“I know.” Molly looked to the kitchen where Gabe was putting food away. “But it ended up pretty damn well, I think.”
Joy raised her hurricane glass, now completely empty. “Happy birthday.”
Molly laughed. “I forgot all about my birthday. How about we get another piece of cake for the road?”
Joy put her chair into gear. “I like the way you think.”
Mid-City, New Orleans, Louisiana
SUNDAY, JULY 31, 7:00 A.M.
“Gabe.” Molly’s sleepy voice roused him just enough to be annoyed. “Gabe.”
Her little elbow-shove to his stomach woke him up the rest of the way. “What?” he whined, too tired to care that he sounded Harper’s age.
“Your phone. Is ringing. Again. Playing that song from the rat-chef movie.”
“Ratatouille?”
“Whatever. Answer the phone, because that’s the third time it’s rung.”
Reluctantly, he released her. He’d been holding her against him, and she’d been using his biceps as a pillow. She wouldn’t stay here in his house forever, but Harper had cried when Chelsea and Molly had told her that they were going back to their apartment the night before. The child was afraid to return to the place where she’d hidden in the closet, terrified for her life.
Nobody blamed her.
So, they’d stayed, along with the Houston folks, who were leaving after breakfast. Gabe had no idea how long Molly’s little family would need to stay, but to be honest, he was grateful for the company.
He’d actually been hoping for an early-morning round of sex before he got up to make breakfast for everyone. He might still be able to make that happen, especially since Molly was now wide-awake and glaring at him.
“You missed the call.”
He blinked. “Oh, yeah. I forgot already.”
“You’re really not a morning person, are you?” she asked, amused, then reached over him to pluck his phone from the nightstand. Her eyes widened. “It was your aunt.”
Gabe snatched the phone, his hands suddenly trembling. Sure enough, there was a notification on his screen. Missed call: Gigi. “What if she’s not all right?”
“She’s been on vacation,” Molly said, using that tone that instantly soothed him. They were planning a trip to the stable later so that Harper and Chelsea could ride, and he’d thought he’d hear her use the voice on the horse. Not on me. But he was grateful for it, because his hands were shaking.
Swallowing, he dialed Gigi’s number, sighing with relief when his aunt answered on the first ring.
“Salut, Gabriel.”
“Salut, Tante Gigi. Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m all right,” she said, switching to her heavily accented English. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He exhaled, feeling a weight roll off his shoulders. “I’ve had a bit of a week.”
“As have I. I have been through the Panama Canal. You should do it sometime soon, mon cher. You work too hard.”
“I’d love to hear all about it, but I need you to listen for a minute. I have someone with me. Can I put you on speaker?”
“Of course.” When he’d done so, she barreled forward, as was her way. “I will ask you later about the ‘someone’ you have with you. But for now, tell me about your week. You sound stressed. I got a message from the ship this morning to call you. Are you all right?”
He laughed weakly. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
Molly tapped his arm. “You want me to start since you’re still not awake yet?”
“Oh, I am sorry!” Gigi exclaimed. “I always forget about the time difference. It’s already nearly lunchtime in Fort Lauderdale.”
“It’s only eight o’clock in Fort Lauderdale,” Gabe grumbled.
“As I said—nearly lunchtime. And who is this someone?” Gigi asked slyly.
“My name is Molly Sutton. Gabe hired me to help find out who killed his father.”
Gigi gasped. “Mon Dieu. What is this?”
“It’s a very long story,” Molly said, “but the short version is that Rocky was killed by a man who’d murdered a woman back during Katrina. Rocky discovered her body when he was searching for victims to evacuate from the flood. He’d been investigating her murder for years but picked up speed in the last few months. Because of his cancer.”
Gigi sighed. “He wanted to tell you that he was sick, but he didn’t know how. I told him that if he didn’t tell you soon, I would tell you myself, but…” She was quiet for a long moment. “I thought he’d really killed himself. He was in so much pain. I should have known that he wouldn’t do it in a way that would hurt you if you found him. I am so sorry, Gabriel.”
“It’s all right. I wasn’t sure myself until I had a private autopsy done.”
“That’s part of the long story,” Molly said. “We’ll answer all your questions, but I need to zip to the end. We discovered the killer’s identity and he’s dead. But Rocky left some cryptic notes.”
“Ah,” Gigi said knowingly, but then hesitated. “Did you find… someone?”
“You mean Xavier?” Gabe asked. “I did find him. I also found that you’re named as the president on one of Dad’s businesses that he used to hide monthly payments to Xavier’s mother.”
She gasped again. “Oh no. Gabriel. What you must have thought!”
“I did, for a moment,” Gabe confessed. “But I knew Dad would never cheat on Mom.”
“Your mother knew everything, if that makes you feel better. She was very supportive of his efforts to help the Morrow family. Your father was a very good man.”
“I know,” Gabe said, just as he had the day before when Cicely Morrow had said the same thing. His father had been a very good man. And hopefully now he can truly rest in peace. “Let’s get back to the angels. Dad gave both Xavier and me a little ceramic angel. We figured out that Xavier’s had a thumb drive inside it.”
“Oh? That sounds like a movie. What did it say?”
“That he should find me at Le Petit Choux.”
“Is that how you met?”
“No,” Gabe said. “Xavier was nearly murdered in his own home and came to find me.”
Gigi gasped again. “Oh no. That poor child.”
“He’s twenty-two, Tante Gigi.”
“And I am in my sixties now. I’m allowed to call all of you children. What happened next?”
“Lots of stuff, but once we found Xavier’s angel had a thumb drive, we checked mine. It said to call you.”
“Therefore, you did. I see many missed calls. I am so sorry, Gabriel.”
“I was so worried.”
“My poor boy. I had my phone turned off.”
Gabe scowled. “I know.”
“I cannot apologize for that. I forgot once and my phone bill was astronomique.”
Gabe rubbed his forehead. “What do you have for me, Tante Gigi?”
“I don’t exactly know. I got a text from him the day before he died. It’s a username for his cloud account. He said to send it to you when you contacted me and asked for information. I thought it was a letter and that he meant for you to wait until you were ready to read it. I shall send you a link as soon as we hang up.”
Gabe blinked. “You know about cloud accounts?”
She made an irritated noise. “I’m old, not stupid.”
“I never said you were,” he said quickly. “You are one of the smartest women I know.”
She harrumphed. “That’s better. I will send you the link, and then I will cancel my flight to Montreal and rent a car and drive to New Orleans instead.”
Oh boy.“Um, you don’t have to do that, Tante Gigi.”
“Of course I do. I must meet this Molly Sutton that you hired to ‘investigate.’ ” She said the last word so slyly that his cheeks burned, and Molly grinned.
Gabe rolled his eyes. “I really did hire her to investigate. Things just… evolved.”
“This is what I figured, as she is in your bed,” Gigi said tartly.
“I can’t wait to meet you, ma’am,” Molly said cordially.
“The feeling is mutual. Now I must go. My party is about to disembark from this lovely ship. Au revoir, Gabriel. Enchantée, Molly.” The call ended, leaving him reeling.
Molly looked up at him, still grinning. “She’s a whirlwind, isn’t she?”
“You have no idea.” Suddenly panicked, he started to get out of bed. “I have to clean.”
She grabbed his arm. “We’ll all help,” she said. “We’ll put Xavier, Carlos, and Manny to work before they take off for Houston.”
He nodded, his heart still racing. “You’re right. She… I love her, but she is… exacting.”
Molly’s grin faltered. “Oh. Maybe we should get out of your hair, then.”
He slid his arm around her and tugged her closer. “No way. She loves kids. We’ll sic Harper on her if things go sideways. But they won’t and there is no need for you to go. She will love you. I promise.”
Molly nodded uncertainly, then pointed to his phone. “She said she’d send you a link.”
“Oh, right. That woman makes my head spin sometimes.” He went to his email and, sure enough, there was an email from Gigi, along with his father’s username. “But there’s no password.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, then, in unison, said, “Mon ange.”
“But there also has to be a number in the password, right?” Gabe asked, but he already knew what it would be. “Mon ange plus my mother’s birthday.” Holding his breath, he tapped the phone’s keyboard and shuddered out a breath when it worked. “Only one file, but it’s huge.”
They found out why once it had finally downloaded. The file contained pages of handwritten documents—scanned pages of a journal. “Picture files take up a lot of space,” Molly said quietly. “Your dad had nice penmanship. These will be easy to read.”
“I knew he’d bought a scanner. They must have stolen it when they killed him.”
“I wonder what he did with the original journal?”
“I don’t know. If he went to all the trouble to tell Aunt Gigi where to find the scanned copy, I’m betting he burned it or destroyed it somehow. I never checked his house for ashes.”
“That may have been what Tobin was looking for when he destroyed your father’s house.”
“Maybe.” But he didn’t want to waste any more time wondering. He wanted to read his father’s journal. “A lot of this is his search for Xavier,” he murmured. There was page after page of dead ends and summaries of appointments with social workers that went nowhere. “He didn’t leave any stones unturned, did he?”
“Oh.” Molly’s voice softened. “He found him through Xavier’s birth mother’s headstone. The one Cicely and her husband paid for.”
“Cicely told us that,” Gabe remembered. “Dad tracked them down with a canceled check.”
“How many cemeteries did he search?”
Gabe counted as he turned pages. “Thirty-five. And it looks like he had to bribe someone at the final cemetery to give him the Morrows’ information.” He had to chuckle. “Here’s a receipt that he wrote.”
Molly snorted softly. “With ‘bribe to slimy grave guy’ as the notation. I wish I could have met him. He sounds wonderful.”
Gabe’s chest tightened. “I wish you could have met him, too. He would have loved you.”
Molly pressed a kiss against his upper arm, then leaned her head against him as she pointed to his screen. “There’s the note with Dr. Cousineau’s name and the fake name Nadia Hall used.”
“And a summary of his interview with Mrs. Royce, the neighbor we met.” He froze. “Hell. We forgot to call her.”
“I did yesterday morning,” Molly said. “I called her and April Frazier to let them know what happened. Mrs. Royce drove home from her daughter’s house in Huntsville yesterday and asked if she could come for breakfast to meet Xavier before he heads back to Houston. Xavier said yes, and I didn’t think you’d mind. I told her to be here by nine.”
They still had lots of time, then. “Of course I don’t mind.” He continued thumbing through his father’s journal, swiping whenever Molly hummed that she was ready to move on. There was a sizable gap in the dates, and it made Gabe’s chest hurt. “This was when my mom got sick. He wouldn’t let anyone else care for her except for Gigi and sometimes Patty’s parents. Rarely even me. He loved her so much.”
“And now they’re together again,” she whispered.
He swallowed hard, some of the sadness easing from his chest. “They are. That may be the only good thing to come out of his death. Well, that and meeting you.”
She smiled up at him. “I know what you meant.”
He had to kiss her then but forced himself to look back at the journal before things got carried away. He wanted to read it and then not look at it again.
“Huh,” Molly said, pointing at the page on his screen. “He suspected Cresswell of being involved after he threatened to fire him. I wonder if he has any evidence against him for some of the drugs that Burke believes that Cresswell stole.”
Gabe swiped through the pages faster, satisfaction taking root where the sadness had been. “He did. Photos of Cresswell taking bribes, affidavits from witnesses… Oh my God. This is gold.”
“André and Cardozo are gonna be so happy,” Molly said, bouncing a little where she sat.
Then they got to the part where his father had found Dr. Benson. “ ‘He won’t talk to me,’ ” Gabe read, “ ‘but I’m running out of time.’ ”
“He kept calling and calling Benson,” Molly said. “And felt guilty for pestering the man, but he needed answers.”
Gabe closed the file. “He believed Benson knew the name of Nadia’s lover. He may have.”
Molly sighed. “He went to Benson’s house the week before he died, but Benson wasn’t home. That’s how Lott knew. He had the tracker on your dad’s truck by then.”
“So they killed Benson to keep him from telling my dad what he knew. I feel awful for the man, but also for my dad, y’know? Dad died knowing his search caused that man’s death.”
Molly shook her head fiercely. “No, he may have led the killers to Benson, but he was not responsible for Benson dying any more than you’re responsible for any of this. He was trying to get to the truth. And he did.”
“Yeah.” Gabe cleared his throat. “He did. And then we did. Thank you, Molly.”
“You’re welcome.” She sniffed the air. “Someone’s awake and making coffee. Let’s close the book on this for now, okay? Let’s tell André about the journal, then go and socialize, and you can cook us a feast.”
He smiled down at her, so grateful that she’d come into his life. “A feast?”
“With bacon. Which is a miracle that does not come from cute little pigs.”
“I can do bacon. Let’s go.”
He slid from the bed, pulling on his clothes. Watching her do the same. Then he took her hand and together they made their way to the kitchen, where friendship—and coffee—waited.
