Quarter to Midnight (A New Orleans Novel Book 1)

It’s too loud,” Gabe complained from where they sat parked on Iberville Street down the street from the back entrance of the Monteleone. They were in a loading zone, but since they were being guarded by Officer McCauley—who stood next to Burke’s SUV, hand on his holstered gun—Gabe figured they weren’t likely to be towed.

Everyone was partying and there was music everywhere, loud enough to be heard through the closed windows of Burke’s SUV. Normally Gabe loved the noise of the Quarter during a festival, but this was off the charts, especially since he’d been hiding out on the bayou where the only real noise was that of the birds.

“It’s because of Satchmo,” Molly said from the front seat, her gaze never pausing, looking for threats.

I know, Gabe wanted to snap, but bit it back. It wasn’t Molly’s fault that he was wound tighter than a damn drum. He could still see Joelle Ducote’s lifeless body on the ground, her eyes staring up at the sky as he and Burke had done CPR.

He’d seen more dead bodies this week than he had in his whole life. And his father had seen them so much more often for more than thirty-five years. So suck it up, Hebert.

He tried, drawing in a lungful of air and holding it for a few beats before letting it out.

“You okay?” Xavier muttered.

“No, not really. But I will be.” But Xavier continued to look worried, so Gabe leaned in to whisper, “I’d never seen a dead body outside of a funeral home before this week.”

Xavier nodded sadly. “I have. They were floating by my roof while I sat there waiting for your dad that night.”

Gabe froze, his heart in his throat. “Oh, Xavier. I’m sorry.”

Xavier shrugged, looking uncomfortable because Burke and Molly had turned in their seats to stare back at him. “It’s fine. I had therapy. I think I’m gonna need a lot more after this.” He grinned lopsidedly. “Maybe you and I can get a two-for-one discount.”

Gabe had to smile, if for no other reason than to reward Xavier for trying to make him feel better. “You’re on.”

“Can you see anything?” Xavier asked Burke, effectively changing the subject. “Any sign of Ducote?”

Burke turned to face forward, then shook his head. “No. Only a few hotel staffers out back in the alley taking a smoking break. The ballroom on the second floor is where they’re having the fundraiser.” Then he tensed. “Sonofabitch.”

The three of them turned in the direction that Burke was staring, and Gabe couldn’t stop the growl that tore from his throat at the sight of the uniformed man walking along Iberville toward the alley behind the hotel. “Cresswell.”

His father’s old boss. The man who’d “accidentally” shown him his father’s body, slumped over the kitchen table where he’d eaten family dinners for most of his life.

The man who believed his father would steal drugs from the evidence locker.

The man who may have even framed his father to look guilty.

Gabe wasn’t aware that he’d opened his door to get out until Molly’s sharp reprimand yanked him back.

“Not now, Gabe. You’ll get your chance. For now, stay with us. We need to stay safe and where Officer McCauley can alibi us if something goes wrong.”

Because André might be in the hotel, arresting Ducote. Or at least taking him in for questioning.

Exhaling hard, Gabe closed the door. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Xavier slid a finger under his wig to scratch his head. “I wonder what else André knows. It’s got to be more than a hand-me-down dog if they’re hauling Ducote in, even for questioning.”

“Fuck,” Molly muttered. “Stay calm, Gabe. Cresswell’s coming this way.”

Gabe had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from balling them into fists. Probably not smart to punch a cop. Even one who deserved it like Cresswell.

And then… everything changed. Cresswell stopped walking, listening to the police radio in his hand. Then he turned on his heel and began walking back toward the rear of the hotel.

Officer McCauley was also listening to his radio and Burke opened his window in time for them to hear a deep voice say, “We have a hostage situation.”

Gabe stiffened. That was André’s voice.

“Cresswell, get to the back stairwell now,” André continued.

McCauley drew his gun from his holster, giving Burke a mild glare. “You heard that?”

“We did,” Burke said. “What’s happening?”

“Just stay put,” McCauley commanded. “Roll up your windows and keep your heads down.”

Burke complied, but Molly rolled hers down enough that they could hear what was happening. Both Burke and Molly had tensed, both sliding their own weapons from their holsters.

Gabe had to remember to breathe. He put a hand on Xavier’s shoulder, ready to push the young man out of the way should bullets begin to fly.

And then a screeching sound tore the air.

An emergency exit, Gabe guessed, then knew he was right a few seconds later when a man stumbled from the alley into the street, his arm around an older woman’s throat.

And a gun to the woman’s temple.

Lamont Ducote.Gabe felt a growl start in his chest, but he shoved it down. The bastard did indeed have a hostage. “What are we going to do?” he asked.

“We’re going to stay here,” Burke barked, his body coiled to move. As was Molly’s. “It’s Cresswell’s job to stop him.”

But Cresswell hadn’t stopped him. Ducote was dragging the woman along the sidewalk and, by now, people were noticing the gun. Some ran away screaming. Others pressed closer, phones held high as they recorded the unfolding drama.

Assholes.

“Where’s Cresswell?” Molly shouted over the noise coming through the car window, which was now mostly the screams of the passersby.

“I don’t know,” Burke shouted back. “But Ducote is coming this way.”

And McCauley was approaching the man and his hostage, his service weapon drawn. “Let her go!” McCauley yelled.

Ducote’s answer was to pull the gun from his hostage’s head long enough to fire at McCauley. The officer dropped like a rock.

Xavier cried out in shock. Gabe felt frozen.

Outside the car, chaos erupted, the crowd pushing and shoving to escape the scene.

Then Burke was moving, rushing out of the SUV to drag McCauley behind it.

Molly cursed. “Where the fuck is NOPD? Where is André? Burke?” she called through Burke’s open door. “What’s McCauley’s status?”

“He’s dead,” Burke said grimly. “He took a bullet to his temple. It doesn’t look like anyone is coming for Ducote. Something bad must have gone down inside the hotel. If Ducote drags her into that crowd…”

They’d lose him. He’d get away.

We’ll never be safe from him.

“He shot that cop,” Xavier whispered hoarsely. “He killed that cop. Oh my God.”

“I know.” Gabe could feel panic skirting the edges of his mind and pushed it back. He’d known that Ducote was a killer. He’d seen him shoot Mule.

Ducote had killed so many others. Nadia. Joelle. The woman from the bayou the day before.

His breath hitched in his chest. My father. He killed my father. I’m sorry, Dad. I’m so sorry.

Sorry that it had happened. Sorry that he hadn’t been able to stop it. Sorry that Ducote was still killing people.

But he couldn’t deal with that now. Later. He’d fall apart later. He drew a breath and straightened his spine, disturbed by the realization that he was becoming too adept at compartmentalizing murder. He pushed back that worry as well.

Burke and Molly shared a quick look, then Molly jumped out of the SUV and followed Burke toward Ducote.

Okay, Gabe thought. So we’re doing this, then.

“Stay here,” he commanded Xavier, and, deliberately not looking at the body of the fallen officer, got out of the car to follow them. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but all he could think was that he couldn’t let Ducote hurt anyone else. He couldn’t let Ducote kill anyone else. At the very least, he could direct the crowd away, giving Molly and Burke room to work.

Molly and Burke had split up, one going left of Ducote and the other going right. It looked like they planned to approach him from behind. But Ducote was still dragging the woman, whose face was streaked with helpless tears.

And then Xavier was at Gabe’s side. Goddammit.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” Gabe demanded.

“Same thing you are,” Xavier answered evenly.

Gabe grabbed Xavier’s arm. “Xavier, go. Please.”

Xavier gave him a look that didn’t bode well. “No way in hell. We both go or we both stay. What are you planning to do?”

Gabe shook his head. “He’s coming this way. If he gets into that crowd, he’ll be gone. Or even more people will get hurt. Please, Xavier, go.”

“Fine,” Xavier said, but didn’t move an inch.

“I swear to God you are as stubborn as my father,” Gabe gritted out.

“So are you.”

Ducote was close enough now that Gabe could see the fear in the hostage’s eyes. Taking a deep breath, Gabe strode toward them, purposefully not looking for Molly or Burke.

If the two took Ducote down from behind, the old lady could be hurt in the process.

And that wasn’t okay.

He hadn’t been able to save Dr. McLain or Dusty Woodruff or even Joelle Ducote, but he’d be damned if this old lady got hurt today.

Gabe held up his hands, aware of Xavier behind him. Run, he wanted to yell to the younger man, but he didn’t think it’d do any good.

“Mr. Ducote,” Gabe said loudly.

Ducote’s head had been swiveling back and forth as he frantically searched for a way out, but now he stopped hard, shock flickering in his eyes. The lady was grabbing at Ducote’s forearm, trying to breathe.

He’s going to kill her.Gabe knew it like he knew his own name.

Gabe took a few more steps forward, his focus narrowing on the man and his hostage. “Let her go, Ducote,” he said. “She’s not the one you want. I’m the one you want.”

“No, I’m the one you want,” Xavier said from beside him.

Gabe wanted to shove Xavier out of the way, out of danger. He’s been through enough already, dammit.

Ducote looked from Gabe to Xavier. His eyes were wild, flicking one way then the other. Looking for a way out. “Who the hell is he?”

Xavier took off the wig and glasses. “I’m the five-year-old kid who saw you murder Nadia Hall. I’m the one you’ve been trying to kill all week. Let the lady go, and I’ll go with you.”

Something flickered in Ducote’s eyes. Hope? Calculation? Then disbelief. “You lie.”

The woman Ducote held whimpered, and Gabe realized that everyone around them had gone silent. He could still hear noise from the crowd farther down the block and there was a band playing jazz close by, but it was like the people around them were holding their breath.

“I’m not lying,” Xavier insisted, and Gabe believed him.

Dear God. Xavier really was going to give himself up.

And then Gabe caught a glint of gold. The sun reflecting off of Molly’s hair. She was mere feet behind Ducote, her gun positioned just as it had been the night they’d stopped Nicholas Tobin from hurting Chelsea and Harper.

Gabe knew exactly what she was planning to do.

“My father died protecting Xavier,” Gabe said. “You’re not getting him. But you can try to take me.”

Ducote shook his head. “Your daddy didn’t even fight. He was a damn coward.”

Gabe felt the rage bubbling up from his gut. “Because you drugged him.” He wanted to look at Xavier, to be sure that he was okay, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off of Ducote. He needed Ducote to move the gun away from the woman’s head, to point it at him. Then Molly could do her thing.

“Rocky Hebert was brave,” Xavier said, his voice loud and clear. “The kind of man you’ll never be.”

And even without looking, Gabe could tell the young man held his head high.

“Hands where I can see them, Hebert,” Ducote barked. “Or I will shoot your little friend and he can spend eternity with your father.”

Gabe could see Burke now, standing just behind Molly. But he didn’t see Cresswell or any other cops.

Where the hell is André?

It looked like this was up to them. Gabe needed the bastard to point his gun away from the old lady. Point it at me. “Go to hell, Ducote.”

Ducote’s face was red and dripping with sweat. “I’ll take you with me.”

Xavier took another step forward so that he was within touching distance of the woman, who was looking positively gray. She no longer clutched at Ducote’s arm, now clutching at her heart instead. Something needed to happen fast, or she’d die from heart failure before Ducote could shoot her.

“Do it,” Xavier said. “If you’re such a big, bad guy, then do it. Or do you just hide behind other people who do the hard work for you?”

Ducote was gritting his teeth. “You fucking—”

And before Gabe could draw another breath, Ducote’s arm swung, the gun moving from the woman’s head to point at Xavier. Gabe shoved the young man out of the way and leapt forward, falling to his knees at the woman’s feet as Ducote’s gun swung away from Xavier and pointed at him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the shot.

But it never came. Instead, Ducote screamed, his gun clattering to the ground.

Gabe opened his eyes in time to catch the old woman as she slumped to the ground. Cradling her, he knee-walked her to safety, looking up just as Ducote went down—just like Tobin had, Molly’s knee gouging the bastard’s kidney.

Xavier rushed to Gabe’s side, kneeling beside the woman and pressing his fingers to her throat. “I’m not getting a pulse,” he said, then sucked in a breath. “Yeah, I am, but it’s faint. Put her down, Gabe. We need to do CPR.”

But Gabe barely heard him because Molly and Burke were still fighting with Ducote. Burke held the man down on the other side, but he wasn’t giving up, thrashing and kicking his legs, desperate to escape.

“Cresswell!” Burke yelled. “Get your sorry ass over here and cuff him!”

Gabe heard Molly cry out in pain and watched as Ducote got his hand free. No. That fucker was not touching Molly. Not today. Not ever.

“Put her down, Gabe,” Xavier said urgently. “She’s dying.”

Obeying, Gabe laid the woman on the pavement as gently as he could, then threw himself over Ducote’s legs. From where he lay, he could see two cops running up to them, guns drawn. Finally.

“Get out of the way,” one of them commanded. “Now.”

Shuddering out a breath, Molly rolled to her feet and the officer started to take her place. A second later, Burke followed suit as the second cop took over for him. Gabe didn’t move because Ducote was still kicking.

“Finally,” Molly said, panting. “Where the fuck is Cress—”

The shot was a shock.

Gabe froze, not sure where it had come from. Then he lurched up, adding his own scream to that of the crowd. “Molly!”

And then he realized that Ducote wasn’t fighting anymore.

Molly stood like a statue, staring down at the former ADA of New Orleans.

Who now had a huge hole in his head.

Gabe gaped, unable to form a single word.

“What the fuck?” Burke whispered.

“What did you do?” the officer yelled.

We didn’t do anything, Gabe wanted to yell back. Then saw that the cop wasn’t talking to Burke.

He was talking to Cresswell, who still had his gun pointed at Ducote’s head. The man who’d been Gabe’s father’s boss didn’t look shocked or grim.

He looked relieved.

“He was resisting arrest,” Cresswell said calmly.

The two uniformed officers just stared at him.

A man in a suit ran up to them. “What the hell just happened here?”

It took Gabe a moment to recognize ADA Cardozo. Slowly Gabe rolled off the dead man’s legs. He tried to stand, but his legs were like wet noodles.

Cardozo glared at Burke and Molly. “Why did you kill him?”

Burke opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, Molly stepped forward. “We didn’t.” She pointed to Cresswell. “He did.”

The two cops rose, and Gabe had to swallow back the bile that rushed up to burn his throat. The officers were covered in blood and brains. Ducote’s blood and brains.

Do not throw up. Donot throw up. He took a deep breath through his mouth, trying to settle his churning stomach.

“He did,” one of the cops confirmed. “Cresswell shot him.”

“He was resisting arrest,” Cresswell repeated just as calmly as the first time. “He’d already shot and killed Officer McCauley.”

Cardozo blanched. “What?”

“Ducote shot the officer that Captain Holmes assigned to guard us,” Molly said, her voice shaking. “He shot him in the head. His body is on the sidewalk, behind our SUV.”

“Cresswell knew that,” Gabe realized. “He had to have been close enough to see McCauley go down, to hear Burke pronounce him dead. He’s been close by all this time. And he did nothing.”

Cardozo’s lips thinned. “I see.”

Cresswell merely lifted his chin and said nothing.

“Where’s André?” Burke asked abruptly, looking around.

“He’s coming,” Cardozo said. “Mr. Ducote here shot him twice in the chest, but he had a vest on.” He spun and stalked over to Cresswell. “We need to talk, Cresswell.”

Cresswell holstered his gun and shrugged. “Fine. He was resisting arrest and officers were in danger.”

Cardozo looked at the two cops. Both were shaking their heads.

“Where’s Mrs. Nelson?” Cardozo asked, looking around.

And Gabe remembered the older woman. Oh shit.

He crawled over to where Xavier was still doing chest compressions. “Call 911,” Gabe called over his shoulder.

“Oh no,” Molly said as she and Burke rushed over to join them.

“What the—?” Cardozo started to ask. “Fuck. Get an ambulance for Mrs. Nelson.”

“Can you do mouth-to-mouth?” Gabe asked Xavier, hearing one of the cops calling it in on his radio. “I wasn’t trained for that, but I can do the compressions.”

Which he’d already done once that evening.

“I can,” Xavier said, putting the older woman’s head into position, and Gabe remembered that the young man had worked as a lifeguard to put himself through college.

Molly began to count off and the three of them coordinated the CPR. Gabe lost track of time, barely aware of the older man who’d dropped to his knees beside them, wringing his hands as he watched.

“Lorraine,” he called pitifully. “Lorraine, baby, don’t leave me.”

Her husband, Gabe realized, but couldn’t remember the man’s name. He only remembered that this was the man who was trying to make Ducote a senator.

Burke gently urged the husband out of the way. “Let them work, Mr. Nelson.”

Finally, one of the cops crouched next to Gabe and put a hand on his shoulder. “You can stop. EMTs are here.”

Gabe looked up to see two paramedics park bicycles on the street corner and rush up with their equipment. Exhausted, he fell back on his ass, unable to stand. He shuffled back a few feet, careful not to come too close to Ducote’s body.

Or to Officer McCauley’s. That loss would sink in soon. The man had died protecting them.

Gabe looked around, stunned and feeling… surreal. The crowd that had been pushing and screaming now gathered behind crime scene tape. When had the cops strung that?

Every single person had their phone out, or so it seemed. And he was too tired to even care.

He watched, detached, as one of the paramedics gave Mrs. Nelson an oxygen mask and, to his extreme relief, her chest was finally rising and falling on its own.

Gabe’s gaze sought out the one person who mattered. Molly collapsed beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Hey there,” she murmured. “You okay?”

“I have no idea,” he said truthfully.

“I know what you mean. I wonder if anyone would mind if we stay here for the next week.”

“I didn’t want to sleep on Burke’s grass. I really don’t want to sleep here.”

“Then I guess we need to get out of here.” Lifting her head, she first stared at McCauley’s body, then, swallowing hard, turned and pointed to where Xavier stood, talking to one of the paramedics. “Xavier did good.”

“He did,” Gabe said, pride surfacing from his shock. “Just tuned out all of the drama to save that woman’s life.”

“You didn’t do so bad yourself, throwing yourself over Ducote’s legs like that. I didn’t think I could hold him down much longer. You’re a hero. You sure you don’t want to be a PI?”

Gabe shuddered. “No. I’ll leave the heroics to you from now on.”

She smiled up at him. “You can be my hero.”

Suddenly he could breathe again. “I will make you chocolate cake every damn day.”

“Oh no. I’ll go into a sugar coma. Once a week is fine.”

A shadow fell across them and they turned to look over their shoulders. André stood there, hunched over like he was hurting. “You guys okay?” he asked.

“We’re… here,” Gabe answered. “I heard you got shot.”

André shot a baleful glare toward Ducote’s body. “Sonofabitch shot me twice. Hurts like a bitch. I think I’ve got a busted rib. Maybe two.” Then he sighed, his next words tinged with guilt. “I think that’s why he aimed higher at McCauley, to avoid his vest.” His throat worked and he cleared his throat. “I’ve worked beside McCauley for years. He was a good man. A good cop.” His broad shoulders sagged. “I’m going to have to tell his wife.”

“I’m sorry,” Gabe murmured. “It happened so fast. We couldn’t stop it.”

André’s nod was solemn. “I know. I know you would’ve tried if you could.” He took a step back, hands out. “I’ve got a lot to take care of. I’ll take your statements in a little bit.”

“There are enough videos that you really don’t need to,” Molly said. “I’m sure they’re already online.”

André shook his head, his expression pained. “We’re already trending on Twitter. But I’ll need all of your statements for my report. Can you stick around for another hour?”

Gabe didn’t want to. He wanted to get out of the heat and take a nice cool shower. He wanted to hold Molly and never let her go.

But he nodded. “Of course.”

“I’m going to have one of my guys take you into the hotel. I’ll call a medic to check you over, just in case.”

“What about Cresswell?” Molly asked frostily.

“I took his weapon and he’s sitting in the back of one of the department SUVs. He has some explaining to do. A lot of explaining to do.”

Molly looked around for the cops’ vehicle, glaring when she saw it. “He didn’t even try to subdue Ducote. He just shot him.”

“I know. The two officers who followed Ducote out of the building said the same. They said once they got out on the street, you’d put your plan into action and they were afraid they’d hurt one of you, so they had to let it play out. Don’t do that again, okay? I’m begging you.”

“I’m done with my life of crime-fighting,” Gabe declared, then looked at the woman lying on the ground. “Will she be okay?”

“She’s alive,” André said. “Thanks to you.”

Gabe shook his head. “Thanks to Xavier. He’s going to make a great doctor someday. Go on, do what you need to do. We’ll wait for you inside the hotel.” He forced himself to stand, swallowing his groan, then held his hand to Molly.

Together they stood, watching as Mr. Nelson thanked Xavier, shaking his hand over and over and finally embracing him, the older man’s body shaking with sobs. Xavier hugged him, patting his back.

“His mama’s gonna be so proud,” Molly murmured.

“She really is,” Gabe murmured back.

Mr. Nelson let Xavier go and their friend ambled over to them, his eyes bright with excitement and relief. “She’s breathing on her own. I hope she’s gonna be okay.”

Molly hugged Xavier hard and he pressed his face into her shoulder. “You were amazing,” she said fiercely.

“We couldn’t save Officer McCauley or Joelle Ducote,” Xavier said, his voice muffled against Molly’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to lose Mrs. Nelson, too.”

“She’s alive because of you.” She let him go then poked him in the chest. “Don’t ever do that again, taunting a killer to shoot you. For fuck’s sake. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Gabe did the same thing.”

“And I will deal with him later. Promise me. No more offering yourself.”

“I promise.” Xavier leaned his head back, staring up at the sky thankfully. “It’s over. It’s really over.”

Gabe glanced over at Ducote’s body, now surrounded with barriers so that the crowd couldn’t take any more photos. “It really is. My dad would be proud.” Taking Molly’s hand, he put his other arm around Xavier’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get inside, away from all these cameras.”