As they entered and went down a long hallway toward Pierre’s apartment, Brett sensed people watching silently through peepholes. Half the residents were undoubtedly terrified of arrest, he thought.
Pierre’s wife and children certainly were, but Pierre quickly spoke to her in his native patois, his words so fast and clipped that Brett couldn’t hope to follow them. Within minutes they had packed up their few belongings. But then Pierre turned stubborn; he’d apparently realized his bargaining chip. He insisted that Brett also help the couple living with them.
Brett winced, doubting his own power, but Matt, standing next to him, said, “Do it. I’ve already called Adam about Pierre and his family. If there’s any trouble, Adam will step in. That’s a guarantee.”
Brett nodded to Pierre, and the young couple who also lived in the tiny apartment came along, too. No doubt everyone watching assumed they were being arrested and turned over to La Migra, Immigration, and that was fine with Brett. Boss Man was unlikely to go after them if he thought they were in police custody.
It was almost midnight by the time Pierre, his family and their friends, Mali and Jacques Brigand, were settled in a safe house. Brett and the others all drove back to Lara’s house at that point, though he knew he and Diego should have simply gone home.
But Matt, Diego and Meg were talking about pizza, since they’d missed out on dinner and were starving.
“I need pizza,” Diego insisted. “I can feel my belly button touching my spine.”
“Then, pizza you shall have, if I have to use my badge to force Papa Giuseppe to stay open past closing,” Meg said with a grin.
Brett realized they weren’t just feeling hungry, they were feeling exhilarated, because at last something seemed to be going their way.
They needed Pierre. Needed him badly. They needed him to identify “Boss Man,” and they needed him to find out where his brother’s body had supposedly been buried, because that could link them to Boss Man. Police and municipal records should let them know where Antoine had ended up after his second death, though that was undoubtedly the city’s potter’s field.
Antoine’s body might be the missing piece Phil Kinny needed to solve the puzzle of dead men walking.
If nothing else, Pierre could give them a good description of Boss Man, who might be working for the man at the top or might himself be the puppet master who managed to kill and kill again with complete impunity.
They ordered pizza, and Matt and Diego drove to the restaurant to pick it up. Diego wolfed down half a pie and then told them that he had to call it quits for the night. “Agent Cody may not need sleep, but I sure as hell do,” he teased.
After he left, Meg begged forgiveness and said that she was going up to bed, because she was exhausted, too. Matt waited, saying that he would lock up and see that the alarms were set once Brett went home.
Lara followed Brett to the door, where he paused and looked down at her. “Thank you,” he said. “We wouldn’t have gotten this break in the case without your help.”
She smiled and stepped closer to him. He wanted to touch her, not to talk anymore. Wanted to touch her face. Pull her closer still. Wanted to kiss her. He focused on her mouth.
“You know, it’s really late. I can just make up the sofa,” she said, breaking the spell.
Matt was tossing out the paper plates, ready to follow Brett out and lock the gate when he left.
Brett felt ridiculously young and awkward, which was foolish. He’d never been the love-’em-and-leave-’em type, but he’d had relationships over the years, a few of them serious, one he’d thought was the real thing, but most of his dealings with women had been pretty casual. With Lara, though, he could already tell that there was something different.
“No, but thanks,” he said softly. “I really need to go home. Clean suit for tomorrow and all that.”
She lowered her head for a few seconds and then looked back up at him, smiling. “Too bad. I feel really safe when you’re around. I mean, I feel safe with Meg and Matt, too. I just mean, if you ever want to stay here...you’d be welcome.”
“Thanks. Before this is over, I may take you up on that.” Even as he spoke, he wondered if she’d meant her words the way they’d sounded. The way he hoped she’d meant them.
She was even closer to him now. He wanted to forget talking, forget that other people were in the house. He wanted to escape the case by pulling her close, holding her, feeling her heart beat, warming himself at that fire within her...
Okay, and also by ripping their clothes off and...
“Gotta get going,” he said.
She stood on tiptoe, her body touching his, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she said. “For trusting me, working with me, or letting me work with you, really. Helping.”
Temptation almost overwhelmed him. He stepped back, burning.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, and called out in a voice that was far too husky, “Hey, Matt, can you come out and lock up the gate?”