Quarter to Midnight (A New Orleans Novel Book 1)

Gabe had taken only two steps toward the garage when he heard the quick tap of a car horn. Spinning toward the street, he saw their borrowed car—and Farrah getting out of the driver’s seat to wave them over.

Molly put her arm around Chelsea, urging her along. “It’s okay. She’s a friend.”

Gabe followed, poor little Harper’s arms wrapped around his neck so tightly that he was having trouble breathing. But he let her. She was eight years old, and she was terrified.

She was just recovering from the last bastard who’d touched her. Her own father. She’d already heard two gunfights—when her father shot her grandfather and when her father had been shot by her aunt, who’d been protecting her mother. Now this? How would she ever feel safe again? He hoped like hell for a miracle, for Harper’s sake. He knew few children her age and had no idea how their minds worked. Had no idea how much they could experience and… bounce back? Was that even possible?

Molly helped Chelsea into the back seat and Gabe handed Harper over as gently as he could. The child clung for a heartbreaking moment before leaping into her mother’s arms. Molly got in after them and Shoe jumped in, all on his own, quickly moving over their feet to be closest to Harper. By the time Gabe was in the front seat, the dog had laid his head on Harper’s knee.

Such a good dog.

“Buckle up,” Farrah said. “We’re out of here.” She pulled away from the curb as a call came through on her phone. She answered, putting it to her ear. “I got them. They’re okay. They came out down the fire escape.” She glanced at Gabe, with a slight shake of her head. “Made more noise than a herd of elephants. I could hear them over the car’s engine, but I didn’t see anyone around, so I don’t think anyone else did.”

Gabe winced. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Farrah just smiled, handing him the phone. “André wants to talk to you. Take a deep breath, Gabe. Everyone is okay.”

Everyone but the bodies they’d left behind and poor Lucien, Gabe thought with a flutter of fear now that they were away from the scene. He thought about the man he’d shot. How he’d fallen. How much he was bleeding.

He suddenly knew exactly how Xavier had felt Monday night. I might have killed someone.

In fact, it was highly likely he’d done so.

But he didn’t regret it. Not for a single moment. Because Molly was still breathing. “Hey,” he said to André. “Where are you?”

“In Molly’s apartment. I must have come up the stairs as you went down the fire escape. I nearly had a heart attack when I found the place empty. Do you have any injuries?”

“No. Thank God.”

“Ask him about Lucien,” Molly said from behind him.

“He’s fine,” André answered, evidently hearing her. “He’s still bleeding, but Molly got the worst of it stopped before you guys ran.”

Gabe should have known Molly wouldn’t leave her colleague injured without trying to fix him up. “Good. I’ve been feeling guilty for leaving him.”

“You did the right thing. Lucien can’t make it down the stairs without a stretcher. Don’t worry, I’ve got medics coming. Tell Molly that I found him on his hands and knees in her living room, holding his gun on that bastard she left hog-tied. He’d crawled in from the hallway.”

“I’ll tell her. What happened, André? Burke called the cops. Why didn’t they come?”

“Good question,” he said grimly. “I’m going to find out. And Mr. Tobin won’t be escaping again. I promise you that.”

Gabe really wanted to believe him. He knew that if it was at all under André’s control, it would be true. “Thank you. Where are we going?”

“Back to our camp,” André said. “I’ve called on a few guys I trust to stand guard. And Farrah’s become very proficient with a rifle recently. Don’t let her sweet smile fool you. That woman of mine is brave.”

“Never a doubt,” Gabe said truthfully. “Does Burke know where we are?”

“He will. I’m calling him as soon as I hang up with you. I’m waiting for my team to arrive to secure the scene. There’s quite a lot of blood here.”

“None of it ours. Just Lucien’s and the pr—” He cut himself off from saying pricks because there was a child in the car, and his mother had raised him right. “And the men who came after Chelsea and Harper.”

“I’ll need your statements soon, but for now take a breath and try to relax. I’ll make sure that Lucien gets to the hospital, but after that I have a lot of work to do. I may not call you for a while. And I’ll need to interview you and Molly sooner versus later. I’ll try to do it at our camp, but I may have to bring you two downtown. Can you ask her if there are security cameras?”

Gabe turned in his seat to see Molly stroking Harper’s hair with a hand that trembled. “André wants to know if there are any security cameras in your building.”

She nodded. “Several. One in the garage, one in the stairwell, and one at each landing. The feed is saved to a hard drive in the building owner’s apartment, which is the unit below ours.” Her hand abruptly stopped stroking Harper’s hair, flying to cover her own mouth. “Oh God. Mr. Wilkins. I didn’t even check on him. He’s an old man. Can you have André see if he’s okay? If he’d heard the gunshots, he definitely would have tried to help us. That he didn’t? I… Please, just ask André to check on him.”

“I’ll do that right now,” André promised when Gabe relayed the information. “So that I’m prepared, who is responsible for the three bodies I had to step over on my way up the stairs?”

Bodies. Shit. “Is the man in the garage—” He broke it off, not wanting to say dead around Harper.

“Dead?” André asked. “He is.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.Gabe swallowed hard, bile burning his throat. I killed a man. “The, um, the man in the garage was mine, but I was aiming for his shoulder.”

“Damn, Gabe.” André sounded impressed. “The guy on the stairs?”

“Lucien.”

“And the guy on the landing outside Molly’s place?”

“Molly.”

“That she didn’t kill the bastard on her living room floor was a testament to her good nature,” André muttered.

“His ID says he’s Nicholas Tobin.”

“I know. I saw it. He said that you tampered with his phone.”

“I did not.” He wasn’t going to admit what he had done. He wasn’t sure if texting screenshots from a killer’s phone was illegal—although he’d killed a man, so how could anything be worse than that?

I killed a man. Oh my God.

“Okay,” André said simply. “I’ll check on the building owner downstairs and let you know. Is there anyone living upstairs?”

Gabe asked Molly, and she shook her head. “Tell him that the third-floor unit is unoccupied right now.”

Gabe relayed it, then thanked André again when he said the medics had arrived for Lucien. Ending the call, he gave Farrah back her phone. “He said he’d call when he could.”

“I know the drill,” Farrah said with the sweet smile that André had mentioned.

Pressing his fingers to his temples against a headache, Gabe looked to the back seat and found a little pocket of peace. Shoe had all but climbed into Harper’s lap and she was petting him, her face pressed into the fur at his neck.

“Good boy,” Gabe said softly, and Shoe’s tail wagged. “He bit the man who was in the apartment.”

“Good boy,” Farrah echoed. “He’s a hero.”

Molly managed a tired smile and stroked Shoe’s back. “He really is.”

Gabe was startled by a buzzing in his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. Three missed calls, all from the same number that was calling him now. New dread settled on him like a shroud. “Hello?”

“This is Val, and Patty is okay.”

Tears stung Gabe’s eyes. No more, please. “What happened, and what number are you calling me from?” Although he was afraid that he already knew.

“We’re at the hospital. Patty has a mild concussion.”

Gabe scrambled to sit up straighter. “I’ll come there now.”

Farrah shot a concerned glance his way. “Go where?”

“Patty’s in the hospital,” he said, hearing his own fear.

“No, you will not come to the hospital,” Val snapped. “For all we know, that’s what they’re hoping you’ll do so that they can shoot you on your way inside. I said that she’s okay, and I’m not lying to you. She’s had a CT scan and everything.”

“A CT scan?” Gabe asked, his voice ratcheting higher. “What happened?”

Two hands covered his shoulders, kneading softly. Molly. Hell of it was, her touch really helped. She was uniquely able to settle him.

“They sent two men after Patty,” Val said. “I stopped them.”

There was so much to unpack from those two sentences. “Where are they now?”

“On their way to the morgue,” Val said flatly. “Like I said: I stopped them.”

“Holy shit,” he whispered, then remembered that Harper was listening and bit his tongue. “They sent four to Molly’s.”

“Holy shit,” Val said, much more loudly. “That’s discrimination!”

Gabe barked out a shocked laugh. “What?”

“They thought they could get by me with two and sent four to Lucien? That is gender discrimination, pure and simple.”

Gabe blinked hard. “This night has been surreal.”

“I guess it has,” Val said quietly, and he realized her outburst had been to distract him. Nicely done. “Patty’s sleeping. I’m in her room and nobody will touch her. I promise you.”

“Do you need the hospital, Gabe?” Farrah asked.

“No, you do not,” Val answered, having overheard. “I’m serious. One of those calls you missed was from Patty, because she wanted to tell you not to come. She did well, Gabe. Smacked one of the intruders with a frying pan upside his head. It was art in motion. I need to go now. Tell Molly that I’ll call her later. You’re all okay?”

“We are. Lucien is on his way to the hospital.”

“Shit. Poor Burke. We’re dropping like flies.”

Gabe blinked. “We? What happened to you?”

The hands massaging his shoulders abruptly tensed, but Molly waited silently for him to relay Val’s answer.

“Flesh wound,” Val said dismissively. “Needed a few stitches and an antibiotic shot. The shot was the worst part. I’m fine. Patty’s fine. Don’t make Molly have to protect you here. Go somewhere safe and I promise to call you as soon as Patty wakes up. They’ll have to wake her frequently anyway for the concussion, so it shouldn’t be too long.”

Gabe’s throat tightened. Not your fault, he tried to tell himself, and logically he knew it was true. But too many people had nearly lost their lives tonight.

Because some fucker killed Nadia Hall during Katrina and is now trying to hush it up.

“Thank you, Val,” he said hoarsely and ended the call. “Farrah, take us to the camp, please. Val says that Patty is resting, and that I’ll create more danger if I visit her in the hospital.”

“She’s right,” Farrah said firmly. “Close your eyes, Gabe. You, too, Molly. Rest a bit.”

“In a minute.” He twisted around in his seat so that he could see Molly. “I texted some screenshots from Tobin’s phone to your burner. Can you send them to Antoine?”

Interest—and admiration—sparkled in her eyes. “Very nice, Gabe.” She gasped softly when she checked her texts. “Motherlode. I wish we had his phone.”

“I thought about taking it, but I didn’t want to disturb the crime scene any more than we already did.”

“Honey,” Molly drawled, “we made the crime scene. Seriously, this is good stuff.” She tapped on the phone’s screen then nodded. “Sent them to Antoine. Hope he can work his magic.” She sat back in her seat and resumed stroking Harper’s hair. “Now we rest. I think we’ve all earned it. Chels, I was super proud of you tonight.”

Chelsea’s sigh was tremulous. She opened her mouth to say something, but, glancing down at her daughter, she closed it. “Thank you,” was all she said, then chuckled wetly. “To you, too, Shoe. I think you made a friend in Harper.”

Gabe felt suddenly exhausted. Adrenaline crash. He’d just close his eyes for a little while.

Lake Salvatore, Louisiana

THURSDAY, JULY 28, 3:15 A.M.

“Is she asleep?” Farrah murmured as Molly sat next to Gabe at the kitchen table of the cabin that they’d left only a few hours before.

Molly gratefully accepted the cup of tea that Gabe slid her way. It was good. It would have been even better with a healthy shot of whiskey, but this would do for now. “Yes. Chelsea’s with her. They’re both asleep. Shoe’s lying next to their bed.”

“That is one good dog,” Farrah said with a smile.

“My dad trained him well,” Gabe agreed. “He went after Tobin like he was a pork chop.”

“And then he comforted Harper,” Molly added. She rested her head on Gabe’s shoulder when he put his arm around her. Despite the terror of the evening, she still had him by her side. It gave her comfort. “I’m so sorry, Farrah. We’re putting you in danger.”

Farrah waved a beautifully manicured hand. “I’m marrying a cop. Comes with the territory. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been in danger, and it’s unlikely to be the last. Your clothes are in the dryer, by the way. I didn’t get all the bloodstains out, but they aren’t too obvious.”

Farrah had been generous, loaning them clothes while she washed the ones they’d been wearing. Now they wore T-shirts and sweats. André’s clothes were a little big on Gabe, but Farrah’s fit Molly pretty well. It was always nice to borrow clothes from another buxom woman.

She and Gabe had set their Kevlar vests aside to air out. They’d become ripe over the course of the day. But they’d put them on again when they left the house, no matter how bad they smelled.

Smelling like ass was way better than being dead.

“Thank you,” Molly said, then turned to Gabe. “How’s Patty?”

“She’s good. I talked to her for a little while. Farrah let me use her phone so that no one would be able to trace the call to me. André put someone he trusts at her door and they’ll escort her and Val back to Patty’s house tomorrow when she’s released. She was lucky. The bastard who grabbed her hit her head with the butt of his gun.”

“Well, she did hit him with a frying pan first,” Farrah commented dryly. “I can’t wait to meet her. I think we’ll be great friends.”

“I think you will, too,” Gabe said, then sobered. “She said that the leader of the two said that they needed to take her alive, but that they could kill Val.”

Molly shuddered. “That’s what Val said when I talked to her. But, then again, I guess they learned not to mess with a roller derby queen.”

Farrah smiled. “That is so very satisfying. I hope Val hurt them both.”

Molly sighed. “They’re both in the morgue, so I’d say so. I mean, I’m not going to mourn them any more than I’m going to mourn the guys we took out, but now we can’t try to turn them on each other in exchange for information. I hope Antoine’s able to trace that phone number you got off of Tobin’s phone.”

Gabe scowled. “I should have just stolen it. I’ve been kicking myself ever since.”

“You did the right thing,” Farrah told him. “André will get it all sorted.”

Molly personally agreed with Gabe’s current assessment, but she wasn’t about to disagree with Farrah in her own home. Or in her family’s camp, anyway. Plus, Gabe’s logic had been sound. If they tampered with evidence, Tobin might escape justice. Again.

Gabe shook his head. “I sure hope so.” He glanced at the time on his phone. “Can we check in with Burke? I need to know that I didn’t colossally fuck up by not taking that phone.”

“He’s in the waiting room at the hospital,” Molly said. “Lucien’s still in surgery and he doesn’t have family except for us, so Burke’s staying until the surgeon comes out with an update. Let’s call Antoine instead. He’ll be doing the real work on this anyway.”

Farrah took out her own phone and dialed her soon-to-be brother-in-law. “Hey, it’s me. I’ve got Molly and Gabe here, and they’d like an update.”

“I might have been asleep,” Antoine grumbled. “You should apologize for calling so late.”

“But you weren’t asleep,” Farrah replied lightly. “You’re on speaker.”

“Hey, guys,” Antoine said. “I was actually just about to call you. Let me link Burke in. He said to call him when I had info. He’ll find a room there at the hospital that’s private.”

A minute later, Burke was on the line. “I need some good news,” he said heavily. “Lucien’s surgery’s taking a lot longer than they thought. I don’t know how he was able to make it into your apartment, Molly. Not with a bullet hole in his gut.”

And she and Lucien would be discussing that later. He’d made it seem like his injuries weren’t all that bad. Gabe might be second-guessing leaving Tobin’s phone behind, but she’d been second-guessing leaving Lucien behind.

“I have some new connections,” Antoine said. “First, good job, Gabe. I was able to use all the information you gave me to get into Tobin’s cloud account.”

“Oh, thank God,” Gabe said on a rush of air. “I’ve been cussing myself to hell and back over that damn phone.”

“No need, my man,” Antoine said cheerfully. “It’s all good. So… first, Nicholas Tobin has no priors and no criminal record. He has, however, been linked to several crimes. Because he’s never been arrested, there are no prints on record. He didn’t have his wallet the day he was caught following Xavier into the city. He must have been confident to have it on him today.”

“Cocky bastard,” Molly muttered.

“Lucky us,” Antoine countered. “We’ll have to see what the cops turn up when they search Tobin’s apartment. He might still have Paul Lott’s phone and laptop, so that would be evidence toward a murder charge. But again, luckily for us, I am awesome and have obtained both Tobin’s and Paul Lott’s cell phone records.”

Farrah mimed putting her fingers in her ears. “I don’t want to know, Antoine.”

“No, you really don’t,” he said good-naturedly. “Okay. The texts you copied, Gabe, showed that Tobin was taking orders from someone else to kidnap Chelsea and Harper. The number those orders came from… wait for it…” He paused dramatically. “… also called Paul Lott’s phone. Several times, in fact. Specifically, whoever ordered Tobin tonight also talked to Paul Lott for nearly thirty minutes on the night that your father was killed, Gabe.”

“Oh my God,” Gabe breathed. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, then looked down at Molly. “It’s the first real actionable link we’ve had to Dad’s death.”

She took his hand and kissed it, feeling his excitement bubble through her as well. “I know. We’re getting closer.”

“Do we know who owns the phone that gave the orders for tonight’s attempted kidnapping?” Burke asked.

“No. It’s a burner. All we know is that Tobin had him listed as ‘Jackass.’ ”

“What?” Burke nearly shouted, then muttered an apology for yelling. “Did you say Jackass?” he added in a whispered hiss.

“Yes,” Gabe said. “That was the name on the text message. Do you know him?”

“Oh yeah,” Burke said bitterly. “His name is Jackson M-u-l-e. Last name is Italian—pronounced ‘Moo-lay’—but most of us grunts just called him Jackass. Though not to his face.”

“What horrible parents,” Farrah murmured, “to give him that name. ‘Mule’ was bad enough, but to add ‘Jackson’ to that was just irresponsible.”

“How do you know him, Burke?” Molly asked.

“He’s Cresswell’s freakin’ boss.”

Molly was momentarily speechless, and she wasn’t alone. She’d figured Mule was a cop, just not one of NOPD’s brass. She shared a stunned look with Gabe, then Farrah. “When I said I’d be looking for high-profile connections in Rocky’s cases, I had no idea it went that high up.”

“Yeah,” Burke said wearily. “We need to get this info to André right away. He’ll want more proof before he accuses one of their own, especially Mule, so I don’t expect anything to happen quickly. If it happens at all. I had no idea Mule was involved in anything dirty. He appears squeaky-clean. Pinning anything on him is gonna be a hard sell.”

“Don’t underestimate André,” Farrah said quietly.

“I never do,” Burke said sincerely. “I trust him. I just hope that him going after Mule doesn’t tank his career.”

Farrah looked troubled, but resolute. “He’ll figure it out. And if it does tank his career, he probably wouldn’t have wanted it anymore, anyway.”

“Can we put someone on Mule?” Antoine asked.

“Yeah,” Burke said. “Let me think. I’m going to have to move some people around.”

“I’ll go,” Molly said. “Give me his address, and I’ll wait outside his house and follow him if he leaves.”

Gabe shook his head. “You’re exhausted.”

She shook her head. It didn’t matter if she was exhausted. She was going to surveil Mule. It was the right thing to do. She could feel it in her bones. “We’re close, Gabe. I can feel it. André is busy with Tobin, and Burke doesn’t have any more staff. Val and Lucien are in the hospital and his part-timers are guarding Xavier. It’s going to be me.”

Burke sighed. “Dammit, Molly. You’re throwing logic my way again.”

“No,” Gabe insisted. “What about Phin?”

No, she thought, not Phin. Not yet. The man was still too volatile in situations outside of his firm control. She didn’t think he’d hurt anyone, but he might have to take off to avoid doing so. Leaving himself vulnerable and Mule unsupervised.

“Phin’s… not ready,” Burke hedged. “Molly, you go and watch Mule’s house. He’ll be at home this time of the night. Guys at his level don’t do shift work. Once Lucien’s out of surgery, I’ll relieve you. Is that better, Gabe?”

Gabe grunted. “No, but if it’s the best I can get, I’ll take it. I’m going with you.”

Molly considered protesting, then remembered how calm and collected he’d been earlier. He’d saved her life when he’d shot that first thug in the neck. “I’d like that,” she said, then stopped herself. My family. She couldn’t leave them. What was I thinking? Slowly she shook her head. “But I can’t leave Chelsea and Harper alone.”

Farrah harrumphed. “What am I? Chopped liver? They can stay here. I’ve got a rifle and André’s trained me to use it. We ran into some trouble last year and I decided I needed to know how to defend myself. I’m no sniper, but I am a decent shot. Plus, André’s got three of his own officers on their way. They’ll be here within the next thirty minutes. We’ll be fine.”

Molly studied the other woman’s face. “Are you sure?”

Farrah met her gaze. “Very sure. You’re Burke’s family, so you’re our family, too. We’ll keep Chelsea and Harper safe.”

“Then thank you,” Molly said fervently. “Thank you so much.”

Farrah patted her hand. “You’re welcome. I’ll make some coffee and put it in a thermos. It’ll help you stay awake.”

Molly tugged on Gabe’s hand. “Come on. We need to put our vests back on.”

Gabe followed her to the room they’d been given and picked up the vest, wrinkling his nose. “We’re not going to be able to hide from anyone. They’ll smell us a mile away.”

Molly chuckled. “Take off your T-shirt, Mr. Hebert.” He did so, and she let her mouth water. Just a little. “You have a very nice chest,” she said as she helped him into the vest and fastened the Velcro flaps.

He pulled her T-shirt over her head and looked his fill. She was completely bared to him, her bra in the wash. “So do you. Seems a shame to cover up such pretty breasts.” But he followed her lead, helping her into her vest and fastening her up.

She moved her shoulders, trying to get more comfortable. It felt weird wearing the vest without a bra, but she wasn’t about to ask Farrah to borrow one of those.

Boundaries, after all.

She handed him his T-shirt and they redressed. “You’ll wear a helmet,” she said. “I don’t want to lose you.”

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “Same goes. No charging off by yourself like you did tonight. I nearly had heart failure when that guy pulled a gun on you.”

She started to argue, then sighed. “I promise. You were pretty awesome there. You saved my life.”

He kissed her again. “I’m glad you noticed. Now let’s go. I want this whole nightmare over with.”

She held on to his wrists, holding him in place for another few seconds before letting him go. And then? she wanted to ask. What would happen then? What would happen to them then?

But this wasn’t the time to ask. This was the time to do her job. To keep assholes from trying to kill him and Xavier and all of their families.

Then. Then she’d ask and hope that he wanted them to continue.

The Garden District, New Orleans, Louisiana

THURSDAY, JULY 28, 5:00 A.M.

“It doesn’t seem fair that Mule gets to sleep and we’re sitting outside his very fine house not sleeping,” Gabe grumbled. He was tired and cranky and—although he was really trying—unable to keep his thoughts to himself.

Mule’s house was very fine. A mansion, in fact. With pillars in front and everything. The house had to have five or six bedrooms. It was too fine for a cop to afford, even one of the brass. Gabe’s own father had lived in the same small house for Gabe’s entire life. It didn’t seem fair that a crooked cop got to live in a place like this.

Bitterness might have been adding to the crankiness, if he were being honest.

“So you’ve said,” Molly said dryly. “Several times.”

“I’m sorry,” Gabe said on a sigh.

She reached over the console and patted his thigh. “It’s okay. It’s actually kind of nice to know that you have a flaw.”

He smiled at her. “Just the one?”

“I haven’t seen any others.”

“There’s still time,” he said cheerfully.

Her smile bloomed into something so beautiful that he had to swallow hard to dislodge the sudden obstruction in his throat. “I’m glad,” she said softly. “I was hoping that you’d want to… you know, continue after all this was over.”

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it lightly. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days? If so, I definitely want to, you know, continue.”

She grinned. “Good. Now that that’s settled, sit back and close your eyes. I’ll wake you up if anything exciting happens.”

“No, I’ll stay awake with you. Who knows if I’ll have to save your life again?”

She snorted. “Rude.” Then she jerked upright. “Shit. Here he comes.”

Sure enough, Mule’s garage door was opening, the taillights of a Range Rover glowing in the darkness.

She handed Gabe her burner. “Text Burke, please. Tell him that the target is moving, and we are in pursuit.”

Gabe did as she asked, then waited for a reply, wincing when it came.

Goddammit. Of course the prick couldn’t wait 15 more mins. I’m just leaving the hospital. Lucien is out of surgery and drs expect full recovery. Keep me updated with your location. BE CAREFUL.

Will do, Gabe texted back. “First, Lucien’s going to be all right.”

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed.

Gabe had told her that first because he’d sensed how guilty she’d felt leaving him behind. “Second, Burke’s annoyed that Mule didn’t wait a little longer. He’s on his way and wants us to leave bread crumbs so that he can follow us.”

Molly lifted a shoulder, her gaze fixed on the Range Rover, which was now halfway down the street. She started the car, keeping the lights off as she began to follow. “Burke can track my phone. He’s just being dramatic.”

“He can track us?” That made Gabe feel much better. Not so alone.

“Antoine can. That was one of the purposes of the company burners. Antoine hands them out like candy on Halloween, and they’re all tricked out to be little homing beacons.”

“No pun intended?”

She frowned, then laughed. “Right. Halloween, tricked out. Got it. Definitely not intended. Apparently, exhaustion makes you cranky and brings out the horrible puns in me.”

“Your one flaw,” he said with a flourish, and she laughed again.

“Hush, now. I have to concentrate.”

He hushed, watching how she pulled to the side of the road when Mule turned onto a more crowded road. She switched on her headlights and maneuvered them back into the traffic flow.

Mule drove straight through the city to one of the state highways and headed south, the surroundings already becoming more remote.

“He’s headed into the bayou,” Molly said, her jaw stiff. “Not sure if anything good comes from a trip into the bayou before dawn.”

“Maybe he’s going fishing?” Gabe asked sardonically, knowing that wasn’t the case.

Molly’s lips quirked up. “You sweet summer child. I’m thinking more along the lines of a clandestine meeting or a drug handoff or a body dump.”

“I figured as much. I’ll text Burke our location.”

He did so, keeping the other man updated as Mule’s Range Rover continued down the lonely road, abruptly pulling onto a side road. Molly kept going.

“We’re not going to follow?” Gabe asked.

“Nope. He turned too suddenly. I think he’s faking it. He’ll be back behind us soon. If he’s not, I’ll backtrack.”

Gabe’s anxiety climbed a little. If they lost him…

But Molly was right. Soon enough, the Range Rover reappeared behind them, driving faster than the speed limit until it overtook them, passing on the left. Then they were following again.

Gabe checked the speedometer of their borrowed car. “He’s in a hurry.”

“Yeah, he is. I’m trying to keep up without being too obvious about it. I’d turn off my headlights, but it’s going to be dawn soon and he’ll see me anyway.”

Gabe didn’t say any more. They were driving entirely too fast for this road. This was how accidents happened.

He thought about Dusty Woodruff. The mortician had died after running off the road and hitting a tree. Had he been followed? Forced off the road?

Pain in his chest had Gabe pressing the heel of his hand to his sternum.

“You okay?” Molly asked quietly.

“Yeah. Just thinking about Dusty. I hope he didn’t suffer.”

“I hope not, too. I meant what I said, Gabe. I’ll go with you when you pay your respects to his widow. You’re not alone in this.”

Another lump lodged in Gabe’s throat. “Thank you.” Then he leaned forward. “The road ends up here. There’s a gate blocking anyone from going farther.”

“He’s going off road.” She glanced at the map on her phone, then turned into the parking lot of the last local business on the road before it ended at the old gate. “I’m going to wait here for a few minutes.”

She turned off their borrowed car’s lights and they watched as Mule got out of his Range Rover and pushed at the gate. It swung open easily.

“He’s got to be meeting someone,” she murmured. “I wonder who.”

“Are we going to find out?” Gabe asked, not sure how he hoped that she’d answer.

“You bet your fine ass we are,” she said without moving her gaze from Mule, who had gotten back into his Rover and was going through the gate. He didn’t bother closing it.

“He wants a quick getaway,” she said. “Which is fine by me.”

Leaving her lights off, she waited until Mule’s lights were no longer visible before pulling out of the parking lot and following. “I needed to give him time to get a little ahead of us,” she said. “Always a tightrope, following someone like this. Need to give them enough space to confidently get where they’re going without arousing any suspicion.”

The road had disappeared, becoming more of a beaten path, and Molly slowed their speed, rolling down the windows as she inched along. The air smelled earthy, already thick with humidity. They were very close to the bayou, yet Gabe could hear the roar of the Range Rover just up ahead, still driving way too fast.

He didn’t say a word. He could barely even breathe.

This was significant.

This could be it.

We’ll catch them, Dad.

He only hoped that he and Molly walked away once they had.