Still, the museum had quite a good collection, and the council meetings had proven destructive. I hated to see priceless art in jeopardy.
“Okay, I’ll let you know something in the morning,” I said. “For now, I’d recommend you at least go into Old Orleans for the night, Adrian. I think you’re pretty low on Zrakovi’s to-do list right now, but you can be tracked eventually if you’re in New Orleans.”
Adrian stood. “Yes, I just wanted to talk to you first. I hope you’ll do the right thing, DJ.”
That made two of us.
I said good night and returned to my room, pulled a diet soda and a candy bar from the mini-fridge, and took out my cell phone.
I needed some advice.
CHAPTER 27
An hour later, I sat on the bed in my hotel room, watching Rene Delachaise take me at my word when I said, “Order whatever you want from room service.”
After he’d placed an order for turtle soup, grilled grouper, pecan-crusted trout, and cheesecake, I stopped trying to tally up the financial damage in my head. Good thing my credit line had recently been increased.
He held his hand over the phone and spoke in an exaggerated whisper. “What you want, babe?”
“A plate of andouille and a bottle of bourbon.” I stretched out on the bed, pulling a pillow over my face and wondering if I could suffocate myself without chickening out. It would solve so many problems.
Rene jumped on the bed with a bounce and sat cross-legged; I could see him from underneath the edges of the pillow.
“Okay, you said you needed to talk, and lucky for you I was already in town ’cause the roads to Plaquemines done been closed again and I can’t get home. It’s too damned cold to swim.” He grabbed my pillow and tossed it aside. “We could cuddle up in bed again, but you look like hell, babe.”
“Thanks.” Glad to know my looks matched my mood. “I needed to talk preternatural politics with someone neutral.”
Rene scratched his chin. “I ain’t exactly neutral, DJ. My papa’s the head of the water clans and Jean, he’s my friend and business partner.”
I sat up and scooted until my back rested against the upholstered headboard. “I know, but you’re familiar with the players yet not involved in this particular problem.”
Rene stretched out and bunched up my face-covering pillow beneath his head. “Okay, shoot.”
I went through the story as Adrian had told it to me.
As usually, Rene’s sharp mind distilled it into its simplest issue. “So you’re wondering who can get this information to Zrakovi and cause the least amount of shit to fly.”
“Right. Let’s go through the possibilities, assuming we have a taped version of Adrian’s testimony against Garrett Melnick and Mace Banyan. Melnick won’t be at the hearing tomorrow night, but Mace will. Adrian doesn’t dare show up in person.”
Rene pursed his lips. “You think they’ll believe him, even on tape?”
Good question. “I don’t know. Maybe. I think even Zrakovi would admit that Adrian’s real crime was getting in over his head and succumbing to blackmail. As far as I know he doesn’t have any personal grudge against Adrian.”
Rene nodded. “Why can’t Jean take the tape in?”
“The biggest problem with Jean is that Zrakovi already distrusts him.” Never mind Alex. “And Jake works for him, so they’d expect Jean to come up with something to get Jake off the hook. Mostly, though, Jean only understands a recording in a very theoretical sense. If he shows up at the council meeting with a DVD, they’ll know Adrian’s hiding out with him or else someone is acting as go-between.” Someone like yours truly.
“Yeah, you right,” Rene said. “Mark the pirate off the list.”
I was pretty sure Jean had come to the same conclusion, or he wouldn’t have called me in the first place. “Mark me off the list, too. If I show up with Adrian’s testimony, not only am I already in hot water with Zrakovi for disobeying a direct order, but I have a history with Jake and…”
Holy crap. Double holy crap. Mace Banyan knew that Jake had lost control and infected me with the loup-garou virus a couple of months ago. He couldn’t prove it, but he knew damned well that I’d bonded with Rand to keep from turning loup-garou. He had witnesses to plundering my memories and learning about Jake.
A loup-garou losing control meant a death sentence in our world. And now he could claim Jake had lost control twice, with me and now with Hoffman.
All of which I shared with Rene as soon as he forged my name for room service and wheeled over the huge tray of food. “I hate those fucking elves,” he said amiably, inspecting his dinner options. “What direct order did you disobey?”