“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 believehe 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 throughher. 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 mebecause 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 treewith 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 thecode 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 ofNew 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 wouldhave 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 diedwhen 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 whatI’d really like to
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 believehe 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 throughher. 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 mebecause 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 treewith 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 thecode 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 ofNew 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 wouldhave 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 diedwhen 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 whatI’d really like to
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