as proudly as he carried the Patrol’s flaming wolf’s head tattoo on his forearm.
That arm bumped Philo’s, spilling froth from the glass he’d been lifting for a first sip.
“Hey, it’s bad luck to drink alone.”
“Then save me from misfortune.” Philo waved down the beefy owner. A cold one quickly appeared as Rico got comfortable on the next barstool.
“’Sup?”
“Making wedding plans.”
Eyes rounded in feigned surprise. “Anyone I know?”
Philo gave him a sharp elbow. “Don’t be a dumb ass.”
“Can’t help it. Born that way.” Rico lifted his glass. “Congrats!”
They clinked and drank deep.
“Good woman. We both got better than we deserve.”
Heart twisting at that truth, Philo nodded then got serious. “Find out anything?”
Rico sighed his frustration. “Dammit, I don’t want to suspect any of them. They’re all good men.”
“I hear ya. But good men can be led astray.” As he’d been.
“I’d bet my life on every one of the squad leaders. Hell, I have.”
Tib nodded. “Same. But there’s a lot of new faces, some I can’t put a name to. Wish I could be sure it was them we need to worry about and not our friends.” Thinking of Poe and Donnie, may they rest in Hell, the bitter taste filling his mouth had him pushing his beer aside. “Sad day when you can’t count on a friend to have your back insteada stabbing you in it.”
Rico took a breath. “Been thinkin’.”
“Oh, God help us!”
A grin then back to business. “What say I call in some of my people to slip into the ranks and poke around. If there’s a conspiracy brewing, maybe they can sniff it out.”
“These folks you trust?”
“Colin does. Helped train ’em. They’re scattered, so it’ll take some time to round ′em up,” his expression firmed, “and to make sure where their loyalty stands, with us or with our father.”
Philo emptied his glass and wiped the trace of foam from his thin red mustache the way he wished he could make this whole unpleasantness disappear. “Do it. Bring ′em in. They report to you only. I don’t need to know who they are.”
Rico gave him a surprisingly thoughtful stare. “I’m not worried about you.”
“But them that know me might catch on. It only takes one tell to give the whole hand away, and this ain’t a play we can afford to lose.”
Rico knocked his fist atop one hard forearm. “Gotcha.” He got to his feet. “And congrats again on grabbing up a good one. Someday, you’ll have to clue me in on how that happens with a nun.” A sly grin.
“F-off, Terriot.”
Rico turned to leave, almost running over the waitress who’d replaced his mate behind LaRoche’s bar. “Whoa!” When she stumbled back, he caught her upper arms to steady her. “Sorry,” he teased with a smile. “Wasn’t looking where I shoulda been.”
Fran eased from his grip, never spilling a drop from the two pitchers she carried. “You boys never are,” she sassed right back, appreciative stare giving him the up and down. “Or I woulda nabbed one of you first.” She winked before calling to her boss, “Sorry, I’m late. Can’t have you stealing all my tips. I’ll get those boys up top.”
The bar owner laughed. “They aren’t half as quick asking me for refills as they are you.”
“Maybe you should try a lower neckline on that tee shirt.” After another heavy-lidded glance at Rico, she turned to Philo. “Top you off first, good looking?”
He grinned. “Probably not a good idea seeing as how I’m getting married. But a refill would be nice.” When she complied and sashayed out onto the floor, Philo let out a breath, chuckling to himself as he spun on the stool to catch Rico frowning. “What?”
Wide shoulders shrugged. “Nothin’.” He bumped a fist against Philo’s shoulder. “Say hey to your lady.”
“And to yours.” His voice lowered. “Bring me something, anything, soon.”
“Do my best.”
As Rico headed for the backdoor, Jacques stepped up across from Philo. “So . . . your intended? Charlotte’s friend . . . the nun?” Brows lifted in comic emphasis.
“No. Mary Kate Malone, the cheerleader who taught Tito to read music.”
“Start talking, Mr. Soon-to-be Married.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“How safe is my family?”
Max met his best friend’s stare in the rearview. “I pity anyone who thinks to mess with your missus.”
Laugh lines creased the corners of intelligent blue eyes. “Didn’t mean her. She and my mama are ′bout the toughest customers I know. Was thinking further up river.” His sister and cousin worked in Rueben Guedry’s Memphis high-rise.