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“I don’t care about your apologies or anything else. What I want is the name of whoever paid you.” She motioned for Lou to pick him up so the idiot could see her before she continued. “And think very carefully before the words ‘I don’t know’ come out of your mouth. Because you’ll regret them more than you’ll ever imagine.”

“I don’t know his name, I swear. He works for the FBI. He showed me his badge. I got a hundred for the one next to the bed and two for the one in the bathroom this morning.”

Todd was talking so fast Emma thought he would pass out. Not once in her life had she seen such fear in another human being, but instead of condemning Cain for having to resort to violence and intimidation, she tried to concentrate on what had landed Todd on his knees.

“How did he contact you?”

“He just walked up to me in the parking lot one night before work. Somehow he knew I worked on your floor, but I wasn’t assigned to your room so I switched with a buddy. This guy, the guy who paid me, he said he’d call me here if he needed anything else.” All the excitement he felt when the agent first approached him had disappeared and felt pale in comparison to the fear he was experiencing now.

“What did he look like?” Cain sat again as she asked the question and tried to ignore the pain in her side.

“Dark hair, not as tall as you, and built kinda stocky.”

“And that would describe half the men in the city,” Merrick said.

“If I knew more, believe me, I’d tell you.” Todd put his hands together and held them up to Cain.

“Todd, I want you to listen to me very carefully.” Cain leaned forward and pinned the man with her eyes. “I’m thinking of letting you walk through that door in a few minutes—”

“Please, let me go and I won’t tell a soul about this.”

Lou drew back and hit the side of his head, knocking Todd down again and leaving him woozy.

“I’d appreciate if you let me finish. I said I’m thinking about it, but if I do, you’re going to walk out of here and never, and I mean never, be seen in New Orleans again. Don’t go to your apartment. Don’t call your girlfriend if you have one. Just go.”

Cain waited until Lou had peeled him off the floor again before she finished. “If I hear of you talking to anyone, Todd, you remember today as the warning. Next time, if there is one, I’m going to tell Lou here to just put a bullet in the middle of your forehead, and I’m going to leave you to rot where you fall.”

Her words caused a wet spot in his pants that spread in the direction of the floor.

“Do we understand each other?”

“Perfectly.” Todd stood with as much dignity as he had left and walked toward the door, hoping Cain didn’t change her mind before he made it outside and to freedom. Fortunately, she’d let him keep his money, though he wasn’t sure how far two hundred and thirty bucks would get him.

“What do you think the FBI is after now?” For years Emma had wondered what happened when Cain went off to meet someone who was causing her problems, but any questions she had were finally put to rest. After having witnessed this incident firsthand, she found a certain lure in doing business this way.

Most of society obeyed rules because they feared the consequences of breaking them. In circumstances like this, Cain made the rules and enforced them no matter what happened. Being completely honest with herself, Emma realized why this rogue who lived life on her own terms kept her enthralled.

The money and the life that Cain had afforded her weren’t paramount; she loved this mix of devil and compassionate soul. Now, even if it cost her the lasting paradise her mother loved to preach about, Emma would never run from the truth of who she was, and she would accept whatever she had to in order to stay at Cain’s side.

“I thought you said they would lay off after what happened at the warehouse that night.”

“They did—well, as much as the feds are ever going to lay off our operations. This isn’t the feds, though, baby,” Cain said. As she watched Todd walk to the door, she thought of how lucky he was. She’d gone easy on him because of Emma, but in the future she couldn’t afford to be so generous, and she hoped Emma would hold up. “We’re dealing with someone else here, and they’re not interested in what we’re up to.”

“Then what are they interested in, and how do you know that?”

“Why do you want to know?” Merrick asked Emma.

“For the love of God,” Cain said, exasperated with Merrick and her suspicions. What they were talking about, even if Emma was wired, was no different that what the FBI was pondering as well.

“The equipment is too antiquated to be FBI, and I’m only guessing here, but I think they were just interested in finding out how healthy I am. Half-dead targets aren’t as much fun, I’m assuming. If not, the final blow would have come by now.” She’d given Emma the best answer she could think of.

“You’re thinking Giovanni Bracato?” Merrick asked.

“Why not? Word on the street is that every one of the goons lying dead outside our house was on Stephano’s payroll. The club and Muriel’s office, though—that wasn’t him. Something so splashy isn’t his style.”

“Gino Jr.,” Merrick said.

“That’s what I’m thinking too. What I need now is two good weeks to get back on my feet. Then we finish this.”

“And we do it together,” Emma added.

“You’re left out from now on only if you want to be, lass. That I promise you on my mum’s grave. But I want you to walk into this knowing what the outcome’s going to be.”

Emma put her hands on Cain’s cheeks and bent down and kissed her. She obviously knew what she wanted and was staking her claim to it.

She pulled away, but not so far that Cain couldn’t see the openness in her eyes. “No mercy, my love. If they go after our children and you, I want you to show no mercy.”

“Then we want the same things.”

“Forever,” Emma said.

More than anything, Cain wanted to believe the sincerity in Emma’s eyes and the fervor of her tone.

Chapter Fourteen

“Shelby?”

“Speaking,” Shelby said into the phone balanced on her shoulder. She was in the office for the afternoon finishing up the report on the Barney Kyle incident. “Can I help you?”

“This is Agent Franks. Conner, remember?”

“I remember.” Shelby had first been assigned to Conner’s team before Kyle had poached her for his, thinking her looks would help further his investigation against Cain. Now she wished that she’d stayed with Conner, since he’d shown her the ropes so well.

She pictured the short redhead assigned to different areas around the city, currently assigned to Ramon Jatibon and his gambling ventures. “What can I do for you, Conner?”

“Are you all still tailing Casey and gang?”

“You need to come in more often. Didn’t you hear?” she asked, wondering if one more person was going to rub it in. The day after they’d wrapped up the warehouse inventory, someone had left a bottle of whiskey on her desk with a sticky note attached describing what to look for when confiscating illegal liquor.

“I’m not calling to razz you. I just thought you might want to know that Ramon and a couple of his goons just drove up to Mercy Hospital with a big bunch of flowers. Any guess as to who he’s here to visit?”

“What’s Cain doing with him?”

“Look, I have to go. He’s heading inside.” The phone went dead, and Shelby was left listening to the dial tone.

The drone let her concentrate on what the next-best move should be, and Shelby didn’t wait too long to decide. She punched in a number and waited for it to connect. “Joe, where are y’all?”

“Are we speaking again? I thought you were mad at us.”

“Come on. Tell me where you are.”