With shaking hands I slide my .357 back into my pants at the small of my back, then start up the hill. If Lincoln is still following me, and Forrest Knox is dispatching dirty cops to commit murder, I need to find a more private place to hide Annie and my mother than Edelweiss. Hiding in plain sight is a good principle, but it can’t work forever. The Natchez bluff has too much tourist traffic for someone not to notice that somebody has taken up residence in the famous house. How long before someone gets curious and climbs the steps to the gallery to look through the windows?
Hiding Mom and Annie somewhere safer will require serious thought, and probably some very quiet negotiation with someone I can trust with my family’s lives. But for now I need rest. If I go back to Edelweiss, I won’t get it. Annie is bound to be bored out of her skull, and she’ll talk to me nonstop. City Hall is no refuge either, especially after three days of ignoring my mayoral duties. In this moment, the only place that seems to offer sanctuary is my town house on Washington Street. There I could get some peace.
As I reach my city car, I decide to call Caitlin and ask her to meet me at home. We haven’t seen each other since last night’s nightmare, and while I know she’s probably working at a fever pitch, no one who went through what she did in Brody Royal’s basement can be all right. More to the point, I feel a strong urge to reconnect with her before events spin any farther out of control. In situations like this one, we’re almost always pushed apart by the things we’re forced to keep from each other.
The vibration of the starting engine comforts me a little, but the car has sat too long for the heater to provide any warmth. As I pull onto the road, it strikes me that Grimsby was telling the truth. Dad shot and killed his partner last night. If Forrest Knox isn’t exploiting this fact, it can only be because he’s working a more subtle plan. In my present state of ignorance, I have little chance of guessing what that might be. I only pray that Walt and Dad possess enough information to unravel Forrest’s intent. If they don’t, they’re certain to wind up right where he wants them, which I assume is dead.
CHAPTER 27
CLAUDE DEVEREUX HAD lived a long life, but the old lawyer had never been as afraid as he had since last night, after hearing Brody Royal had died. Yet that fear increased as he walked into the Baton Rouge headquarters of the Louisiana State Police. Unlike most people who dealt with Forrest Knox, Claude Devereux had known his father. And he knew that the will and anger that drove Frank Knox burned in Forrest also. Claude did not fancy bearing bad news to Frank’s son.
Worse yet, the FBI was investigating the recent deaths in Concordia Parish, as well as those dating back over forty years. Though Claude had worked hard to insulate himself from the more violent activities of his clients over the decades, remaining immaculate was impossible. If the Bureau looked hard enough at Brody Royal’s dealings, they would find enough to send Claude to prison.
Claude was shown into the office by Forrest’s Redbone acolyte, a fairly recent recruit who made Claude’s skin crawl. Claude took a seat before Forrest’s desk, ignoring the plaques, awards, and shooting trophies that adorned the walls and focusing on the single samurai sword that hung behind Forrest’s head—one of the katanas that Frank had brought back from the Pacific in 1945.
To Claude’s surprise, a pit bull sat like a statue beside Forrest’s desk. Surely there must be a rule against that, he thought. Then he guessed that Forrest must be testing the boundaries of the authority he hoped to make official in a short time.
“You look nervous, Claude,” Forrest said.
“Oh, I am.”
“Because Brody was killed? Surely you expected that, as reckless as he’s been lately?”
Claude glanced over his shoulder. The Redbone had taken up a station beside the office door, like a second attack dog. “In all honesty, it’s a relief that he’s gone, though I’ll miss the fees. I didn’t think he’d go as far as he did last night. Kidnapping Penn Cage was suicidal. But that’s not why I’m nervous.”
“What is it, then?”
“I’d rather discuss that in private. I have some news.”
Forrest motioned for him to continue. Clearly, Alphonse Ozan was going nowhere.
Claude cleared his throat. “Sheriff Walker Dennis asked that I relay a message to Snake and the other Double Eagles.”
Forrest laid his elbows on the desk. “What message?”
“He’d like the surviving Double Eagles to come to his office tomorrow morning to answer some questions.”
“Voluntarily?”
Claude nodded.
“Is he serious?”
“Deadly serious. He’s lost a deputy. Another one’s in critical condition.”
“He should have left well enough alone,” Ozan said from behind Claude. “He let that Penn Cage get him into trouble.”
“Is that what I should tell him?” Claude asked.
Forrest shook his head. “Does he want Billy to come in, too?”
“He didn’t mention Billy.”
Forrest pursed his lips as he mulled this over. Claude tried not to stare at the mutilated left ear. He’d often wondered why Forrest hadn’t gotten plastic surgery to mask the injury. His best guess was that it served as a primitive badge of combat experience.
“What’s the latest from the moneymen?” Forrest asked, changing the subject. “Any word on the housing-project decision?”
“I spoke with a couple of attorneys during the drive down. Getting a public housing project rezoned for mixed use is no small matter. A lot of money is changing hands. A lot of favors are being called in.”
Forrest gave him an expectant look. “But I’m still in the deal.”
“As of now, yes. But I would venture to say that if things worsen in Concordia Parish, that might change.”
Forrest Knox’s flat stare chilled Claude as much as Frank’s ever had. “I have no say in the matter,” Claude said. “Most of my time’s been taken up trying to sort out probate issues with Brody’s estate. The children are already fighting over it.”
“Not one of them’s worth a cup of spit. Who gets that Italian turboprop?”
“The plane will be sold, I’m afraid.” Claude forced a smile. “May I ask how things are progressing with Colonel Mackiever?”