neither of them have any prior convictions. Both of them have military academy educations, and both are currently employed by a reputable company, Payne Industries. In fact, the white guy in your car is CEO of the corporation.”
“You mean it’s his corporation?” Rutherford asked.
“Yes, sir. He’s the head honcho. Flew down here on his private jet.”
“I’ll be damned. What the hell is a rich corporate type doing in a New Orleans ghetto in the middle of the damn night?”
“Apparently getting a tattoo.”
Rutherford laughed at the suggestion. “Kind of unlikely, huh?”
“Yeah, but I’ll be honest with you. I don’t think he flew all the way down here to kill Jamaican Sam, either. A rich man like that doesn’t commit his own crimes. A millionaire pays to have them done for him.”
Rutherford nodded. “True, but we’ve already decided that Payne and Jones didn’t kill anyone, right? So what brings them here at this hour?”
“Drugs?”
“I doubt it. I ordered a background check on Jamaican Sam Fletcher, and he had no record other than a few busts for marijuana. The guy was a smoker, not a seller. The cops that patrol this neighborhood claim he ran a clean place. In fact, his artwork was so admired by the local gangs that thugs went out of their way to protect him.”
“Where does that leave us?”
Rutherford didn’t want to admit it, but he had no choice. “Honestly, it leaves us without a case. We can’t charge these two without just cause, and we can’t prove that these guys did anything wrong. We could hold them for twenty-four hours of questioning if we wanted to, but I guarantee that Payne would have a fancy-pants lawyer down here in the blink of an eye causing a big stink about something. No, thank you! It just wouldn’t be worth it.”
“Then we’re kinda forced to let them go, huh?”
“It looks that way, but that doesn’t mean we’re gonna forget ’em.”
The cop looked at his superior and grinned. “What do you have in mind? Some kind of tail?”
Rutherford laughed at the suggestion. “Nothing that drastic, at least not yet. I’m gonna do some digging when I get back to the station and see if I can turn up anything that makes sense. If I do, I’ll nail these guys before they know what hit ’em.” Rutherford groaned as he stared at the captives in the back of his squad car. “Let ’em loose, but tell ’em I want to have a brief chat with them before they leave.”
While waiting for the duo, Rutherford leaned against a nearby building, ready to verbally pounce on the men at the first opportunity. Payne and Jones barely had time to stretch their legs before the veteran cop started his lecture.
“Gentlemen,” he said sternly, “y’all should know better than to be roaming this type of neighborhood in the middle of the night. Violence is pretty common here, and the idiot that told you to visit Sam’s shop at night should’ve known better. Y’all are lucky to be alive.”
Payne nodded his head in agreement as he walked toward the sergeant. “Thanks to you, we are. If you guys didn’t show up when you did, we would’ve been killed by the sniper for sure.”
“Don’t thank me,” admitted the cop. “Thank the person who called 911. He was the one that made us aware of the shooting.”
“Actually, I’d like to. Is the guy around?”
Rutherford shrugged while staring at the crowd that had gathered across the street. “Probably, but I don’t know where to find him. He used a pay phone to report the incident, but refused to leave his name.”
Jones smiled to himself, wondering if Levon Greene was the person who’d made the call. If he had, they probably owed the Buffalo Soldier their lives. “If you manage to find out who it was, thank him for us, okay?”
Rutherford shook Jones’s hand and smiled. “You got it.” Then he turned to shake Payne’s. “In the meantime, stay out of trouble, all right? Keep in mind if I hear your names mentioned at the station in connection with any other suspicious events during your vacation in New Orleans, I might be forced to reconsider your involvement. Do I make myself clear?”
Both men nodded even though they realized that their trouble was far from over.
In fact, it was just beginning.
CHAPTER 23
LIGHTNING bolts. The pain felt like lightning bolts surging through her brain.
Ariane did her best to ignore it—tried to open her eyes, tried to fight through the jackhammer that thumped inside