Cemetery Road

“What do you think it was?”

Jet takes a deep breath, exhales slowly. “I’m worried someone busted us without our knowing, then went to her about it.”

My heart kicks again. “How careful were you coming out here today? You said you had issues.”

“Just logistical complications. Nothing to do with Paul.” She takes the K-Cup out of the Keurig and drops it in the trash can under the sink. “I know for sure he’s out at the baseball field right now with Kevin and the team.”

I sigh with relief. “Okay. But I’d better not go to that party tonight.”

“The Aurora party? Were you invited?”

“No. But Nadine Sullivan asked me to be her plus-one.”

Jet’s eyes flicker with interest. “Really. You told her you’d go with her?”

“I did, actually. Are you okay with that?”

“Well . . . sure. I’m just surprised.”

“Why? I thought it was good cover. I want to look over the Poker Club guys, see how they’re acting after Buck’s death. Maybe question them a little bit.”

Jet is giving me a sidelong look. After a few seconds, she clucks her tongue and says, “You’re right. You showing up with Nadine could be the best possible move. She’s a credible love interest for you.”

This makes me laugh. “What does that mean? One who can compete with you?”

“You tell me.”

“Are you jealous? Seriously?”

She looks back at me for a while without speaking. In the dim light of the kitchen, her dark eyes appear luminous. Against her brown skin, her sapphire earrings look like stones taken from the eyes of some idol in a distant land. Just as I feel the impulse to reach under her T-shirt, I wonder whether she bought the earrings herself or if Paul dropped ten grand on them one night while surfing the web.

“What are you thinking?” she asks, reaching for the button of my jeans.

“Maybe you should head on home. Just to be safe.”

Her unblinking gaze deepens. “You say that like I won’t be coming back for a while.”

I’d like to argue with her, but the idea that Paul might know about us has profoundly altered my view of our situation.

“If Paul knows,” she says, “I’ll know it tonight. I’ll feel it.”

“When he throws you off the roof of the Aurora?”

“Let’s hope not.” She drinks a big swallow of coffee, then looks toward the back door. “I bought new burner phones at Walmart. They’re in my pants, out in the yard.”

Now I remember her clothes strewn across the grass. “You paid cash?”

Her eyes say, Do you think I’m an idiot? But her mouth says, “Of course.”

“Jet . . . we can’t keep doing this. Not with Paul acting paranoid. If he’s looking for clues, he’s going to find them. Just you peeling away from your normal life every day is dangerous.”

“Not while they’re at baseball practice.”

“Paul could get someone else to follow you easily. He’s got dozens of employees.”

“I know. Are you really saying we need to stay separate for a while? Because that will suck.”

“I’m saying more than that.”

Fear flashes in her eyes, but she waits for me to go on.

“Our whole plan—me going back to D.C. first, then you working toward divorce—that’s just not realistic anymore. No matter how much we try to delay or ease the pain, there’s never going to be a good time to tell Paul. Whether I’m in Bienville or D.C. doesn’t make much difference.”

“I think you’re wrong about that. Plus, the issue isn’t simply divorce.”

I take hold of her arms. “It’s custody, I know. But this is the flaw we’re ignoring. You were always going to hit the wall of Max’s control over the chancery court. How the hell can you ever really hope to get custody of Kevin?”

She looks at the floor and sighs heavily, and I worry that I’ve pushed her too far. But then she looks up with a new light in her eyes. “I’ve been working on that,” she says cryptically.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to talk about it yet. Let’s just say I’ve focused my not inconsiderable abilities on finding a way to neutralize Max’s power.”

“The whole Poker Club’s power? Or just Max’s?”

“Just Max. If I discredited him with the club, they wouldn’t lift a finger to interfere in my divorce.”

“Why won’t you tell me what this involves?”

“Because it’s a little dangerous. And it’s not strictly legal. I’m still working on the logistics. I just want you to know that I’m not living in a dream world. I know what the obstacle to our being together is, and I intend to remove it.”

Pushing her isn’t going to get me the answers I want.

“I hate to ask this at this moment,” she says, “but how is your father doing?”

“A little worse, actually. His heart, not his Parkinson’s. But there’s no way to predict how he’s going to do in the short run.”

“Please don’t get the wrong idea,” she says. “I don’t want Duncan to die at all. And if my little project works out, my divorce won’t depend on you going back to Washington first.”

“You’re starting to piss me off now. Giving me hope, but not being specific.”

She pops up on her tiptoes and kisses my mouth. “I like to promise small, then overdeliver.” She bites my bottom lip, then gives my groin a firm squeeze. “You want to go again?” She looks at her watch. “Five minutes or less. I can bend over the counter.”

As much as I would like to, I want to question her further before she leaves. “We haven’t talked about Buck.”

“I’m listening.”

I quickly catch her up on the temp pathologist and rushed autopsy. “I’d say ‘accidental death’ has already been bought and paid for.”

“Where’d you get that?” she asks.

“The coroner. Byron Ellis. He also told me he found reddish-orange brick dust in Buck’s skull wound. One of those old Natchez bricks. He’s going on the record in tomorrow’s paper.”

“Wow. That’ll ring some alarm bells downtown. What’s the significance of the Natchez brick?”

“There aren’t any at Lafitte’s Den. But there are plenty out at the mill site. The old electroplating factory was built from them. Byron and I think somebody caught Buck out there digging last night and killed him.”

Jet bites her lip as she races through mental scenarios. “I noticed that earthmoving equipment starting up as I left the site today. Were they destroying evidence?”

“Probably.”

“Should we go out there tonight and see what we can find?”

“How the hell would you do that? Can you get away from the house?”

She sighs in frustration. “Not tonight. Too late to cook up a business trip.”

“I’ve got some maps Buck made, also some drone footage that shows where he was probably digging. I’d like to go out there, but there could still be guards. Although Quinn says Buck told her there were none posted last night.”

“Too dangerous,” she says, squeezing my left hand. “You’re worried about my clothes being outside, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know why, considering we’re locked behind the gate. But yeah, it’s on my mind.”

She tilts her head toward the door, and we walk outside together. Her clothes lie like little islands in the green sea of grass between the patio and the woods. Any other day I would laugh, but not today.

“Killing Buck was a big step,” she says, stopping at the edge of the patio. “I think there’s something really dark behind that paper mill deal. Really dirty.”

“Dirtier than the corruption we already suspect?”

She nods. “Drop all lesser questions about the mill deal and ask the big one: Why did Azure Dragon come here? If I’d been on their site selection committee, I’d have picked six other cities before Bienville. Maybe ten.”

“The city and the state sweetened the hell out of their offer.”

“Not enough to top Arkansas and Alabama.”

She has a point. “They’re routing I-14 through here, pretty much solely for Azure Dragon. That’s big, Jet.”

“The public schools are still crap.”