Wrong Question, Right Answer (The Bourbon Street Boys #3) - Elle Casey Page 0,43
be seen, since all of our surveillance is being done online and via bugs, so I’m not worried about blowing my cover. And I don’t want to just take off and lay rubber behind because then the gang will know someone’s watching and it’ll ruin everything. No, this is my only option. I take a deep breath and make my move.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I go quickly, certain that if I delay, May will give me more trouble. I’m out the back door and shutting it behind me in less than five seconds. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I hear our target moving. I’m just pulling my hair out of its ponytail when Marc appears around the back bumper of the van.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” He looks me up and down like I’m a big, fat, juicy steak, and he’s a really hungry paleo dieter. “Look what rolled into my neighborhood.”
I lift my chin at him. “What’s up?” I stick my hands into my front pockets, doing my best to look like a homegirl. My dark hair and olive skin allow me to blend into a lot of places. Obviously, he knows I’m not from his neighborhood, but New Orleans is a big place.
Marc looks at my van and then at me. “What’re you doin’ here on my street, chica? You spyin’ on me?”
I smile and laugh a little. “Why would I want to do that? You somebody special, Hollywood?”
He shrugs, moving a little closer. “I don’t know. Maybe I am. Maybe you’re with the po-lice.” Both of his hands go behind his back, where I’m certain he has a gun tucked into his waistband. I left my weapon in the van, knowing he’d see it on me and take it as a threat. He needs to believe I’m not here to ask for trouble, and I need to get away before something stupid happens.
“Police?” I snort indelicately. “Please. I served my time. I ain’t nobody’s snitch.”
His eyes narrow on me. “You served time? Where? When?”
I shrug. “Saint Gabe. Manslaughter. Couple years ago. I don’t like to talk about it.” I lift my chin at him again. “You live here?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Who’s asking?”
I open my mouth to answer, but I never get the words out. Suddenly there are three of us outside. May has decided to join us after stepping out of the driver’s-side door and coming around to the back of the van.
My heart drops into my toes as she practically skips over, wearing the ridiculous black boots that she’s convinced are great for fighting. That’s what she said when she wore them the first day. She held them up at me and said, “Look, Toni! Now we both wear butt-kicking boots!” Hers have pink flowers embroidered on the sides.
I drop my gaze to the ground and shake my head, letting out a long sigh. Now we’re in deep shit, and I have no idea what to do from here. I’m going to kill her when we’re alone again. Hopefully she won’t be dead already.
“Hey, guys! What’s going on?” May puts her hand on my shoulder. “Did you ask him? About the reception hall?”
I look up at her with my jaw falling open. I have absolutely no clue where she’s going with this.
May waves a hand in the space between the three of us. “Oh my god, my friend is so silly.” She sticks her hand out at Marc. “My name is Allison. I like to tell people my name is Alice Inwonderland but it’s not. It’s Allison Guckenburger.” She rolls her eyes. “I know. Crazy name, right? But the good news is I’m getting married, and I’m going to trade that name in for a brand-new one.” She giggles, leaving her hand dangling in the air in front of the gangster who’s probably trying to decide whether to shoot her now or wait to see what other ridiculous things she’s going to say first.
Marc looks at me with a question in his eyes, but his hand comes out slowly and he takes the end of May’s fingers to give them a little shake before letting go. Both of his arms fall to his sides, the weapon in his pants temporarily forgotten.
I don’t find any relief in that, though, because I have a feeling the more he gets to know May, the happier he’s going to be about the idea of shooting us. This is only a temporary reprieve. My mind is racing to