As Max watched taillights disappear out the gate, he offered words she hadn’t waited to hear.
“Be careful.” Then, more softly, “Come back to me.”
– – –
“How the hell did this happen?”
Alain Babineau had no answer for her.
Cee Cee stared dispassionately at Leo Pomarelli who’d sat down to a platter of Gulf shrimp at Pour Boys Bar & Grille. His fingers were still curled about his place setting in anticipation of that first bite denied by the small-caliber bullet to his forehead.
“Shoulda played ball, Leo,” Charlotte muttered, “then we would have had your back.”
He’d managed a high-ticket lawyer who rattled off all the usual outrage to get the little weasel sprung before they could leverage a deal. Someone with a lot of muscle had wanted him out. Their request for surveillance had stalled, opening this window of deadly opportunity.
First responders had cleared the private dining room, corralling witnesses in the bar area where they diligently gathered information. Cee Cee saw no point in interfering with the routine process of the scene. Not until one of the staff ducked into the kitchen after first making anxious eye contact.
She pressed Babineau’s forearm, inclining her head in that direction, muttering, “Be right back,” before slipping away.
The kitchen stood empty, it’s stations unattended. Abandoned orders stretched along steel counters in various stages of prep. Fragrant gumbo simmered on a burner, wringing a plaintive rumble from her stomach as a side door clicked shut.
Hand on her service piece, Cee Cee stepped out into the dim alley running between restaurant and a closed-for-the-night NOLA souvenir boutique. The sound of drunken merrymakers drifted down from the street on booze and refuse-laden air. A unit blocked that exit, flashers briefly highlighting a shadow ducking behind one of the dumpsters. She followed, caution tempering curiosity.
A male server sagged against the still-wet from the earlier downpour brick of the building, his trembling hand tucking a cigarette between his lips. When he couldn’t coax a steady flame from his lighter, Cee Cee took it from him, holding it still so he could lean in. An inhale and a quiet, “Thanks,” released in a jet of smoke.
“You working the dining room tonight?”
He sucked another drag. “Yeah.” Dark eyes darted nervously. “Can’t lose this job. Folks spent their savings for school so I can run my own place someday. I’m paying ‘em back best I can. Can’t let ’em down.”
Cee Cee sized him up. Young, good looking, complexion not much deeper than her own. He wasn’t anxious, just determined.
“They want you to be a man who speaks up or stays silent?”
After mulling it over, he said, “They knew each other.”
Alerted, she took out her small notebook. “Did you hear what they were saying?”
“Naw. They stopped when I come in.”
“Would you recognize the other man if you saw him again?”
A long pause before one crisp nod.
“Could you give me a description?”
Wide eyes jumped in the direction of the door. “Not here. Still on the clock. Gotta go back ’fore I be missed.”
Cee Cee fished out her card. “Come down to the station in the morning to give a statement and look at some pictures. Ask for me. Don’t talk to anyone else or make me regret not taking you in now.”
He drew a pull, hissing smoke shakily through his teeth. “Have to be early. Got class at nine. Can’t miss it.”
“Eight?”
“Sure. Okay.”
She gave him another card and plucked a ballpoint from his apron pocket. “Jot down your name, address and number.”
He snubbed the cigarette on the side of the dumpster before complying. Cee Cee glanced at the card then tucked it into her pocket before nodding toward the door, “You’d better get back. I’ll see you at eight, DeShawn. Don’t make me come looking.”
“No, ma’am.” He darted away, leaving her to wistfully breathe in forbidden smoke and hope he was good for his word.
After a minute or so passed, she returned to the scene of Leo’s abrupt exit from her list of potentials. Noting her reappearance, Babineau tucked in beside her.
“Got something?”
A nanosecond of hesitation. “No. Thought I might have had a witness, but it was nothing.”
With that intentional omission, Charlotte Caissie unofficially added her partner as a person of interest.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Preoccupied by his brooding, it took the nudge of an elbow to alert Max to the Terriot king’s presence.
In worn jeans and faded oversized Reno Aces minor league baseball team sweatshirt, feet clad in heavy work boots, Cale didn’t resemble a clan leader as he took a seat on the steps beside his host