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Author: Ali Vali

Category: LGBT

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  “They aren’t, and I pray to God no one like Perlis ever enters our lives again. Crime is down right now, but it’s only a matter of time before that trend’s over. As people start to come home after Hurricane Katrina, they’ll start killing each other, but one at a time.”

  Keegan jumped when someone pounded on the door. “Were you expecting anyone?”

  Sept shook her head. “It’s probably Della making sure I didn’t screw up the proposal, and if I didn’t, she’s had the prenup drawn up.”

  She laughed as she got off Sept to answer the door, since whoever it was didn’t seem to want to stop knocking. “I’m coming,” she said, with Sept right behind her. “Or I could be if someone wasn’t at the door,” she said softer to Sept.

  The UPS delivery guy had his fist up to knock again when she opened the door, almost falling forward into her, but she stopped his momentum. “Sorry to bother you, but I have a delivery for Detective Sept Savoie. Is she here? She has to sign for it.”

  “From who?” Sept asked. The box in the guy’s other hand was small and nondescript.

  “I don’t have any information on that.” He held up his electronic clipboard. “You her? If so, please sign right here.”

  Sept did as he requested and asked the guy for his name as she directed him to place the box on the kitchen counter.

  “What’s wrong?” Keegan asked as Sept told the guy to hold on after he followed her directions. On a blank sheet of paper, she had him press his fingers down to get a good set of prints. “Seven, you’re freaking me out. What’s the matter?”

  “Do you think Della or anyone in our families sent us something through a carrier service? When we open it, I want to know everyone who touched it.”

  The delivery guy didn’t seem to want to leave after Sept said that.

  “If Della did send us something, I doubt it could kill you.” She tried to joke, but Sept’s grim expression didn’t change. “What is it?”

  Sept shook her head and, with as little contact as possible, opened the package. She sat down with a thud when the small jar rolled out.

  “Is that a human toe?” Keegan took a few deep breaths, but they weren’t helping much with her nausea. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “I’m going to need all the information your company can send me on this delivery,” Sept said to the driver. “Let’s start with where it originated.” She put her arms around Keegan. “You okay?”

  “What’s happening?” Sept’s last case had been so bizarre that it had shook her, and she didn’t want to repeat the experience.

  “I wish I knew, baby, but it’s not good.” Sept stepped in front of the counter, blocking the disgusting gift from her view. “If I had to guess, it’s like an invitation.”

  “To what? That’s fucked up…sorry,” the delivery guy said.

  “He’s right about that,” Keegan said, nodding and shivering at the same time. “Everything we’ll get invited to from my end will only involve hors d’oeuvres and drinks. Nothing like that will ever be given as a party favor.” Sept finally laughed as she held her tighter. “What now?”

  “We call the local police and hope they’re willing to punt to the NOPD.”

  The delivery guy snorted, then stopped when Sept glared at him. “You’re not from around here, are you?” She and Sept shook their heads. “The local sheriff, Earl Boonebury, has waited his whole life for something like this. Do you get me?”

  “Totally,” Sept said.

  “So, no punting?” Keegan asked.

  “More like trying to block a brick wall wearing mirrored sunglasses, once he gets one look at this,” Sept said, turning her head a little to glance at the counter again.

  “Ah,” the guy said. “You really do understand.”

  Chapter Three

  The NOPD headquarters appeared to still be in hurricane-recovery mode like much of the city, as a cleaning crew moved around the main entrance with lethargic movements that nonetheless stripped grime off the floor. A few others were wiping the walls with a strong-smelling cleaner, but they too were moving in slow motion.

  It was Monday morning so they couldn’t blame a hard, long workweek for their utter laziness. Seven months had passed since Katrina, but still most of the city was uninhabited and slow to rebuild, so it was easy to understand why the cleaning crew was so low-energy. Nicole studied them for a moment and thought of a few lines for her book.

  “Can I help you?” one of the officers manning the desk asked.

  “Hello, I’m Nicole Voles, and I have an appointment with Captain Savoie. Could you let him know I’m here?”

  She moved to the spot the guy pointed out and tried to imagine the desperation of this city in the hours and days after the storm. Nothing she’d read or seen in the news had captured the darkness of those moments, followed by the fear that began when Perlis started killing. That was the angle she was trying to aim for in her book.

  “Ms. Voles,” a tall, handsome man said, and he seemed to instantly size her up.

  “Captain Savoie?”

  “No, ma’am.” He pointed to her seat and took the one across from her. “Captain Savoie was called away on business and apologizes for not being here.”

  “Nothing bad, I hope,” she said, trying not to show annoyance at the wasted morning. She’d been sitting around since she’d arrived on Friday and was ready to get started.

  “It’s not anything I can discuss at this time, and he really does send his regrets for not calling you sooner to save you the trip. I’d reschedule, but there’s no way to know how involved he’ll be for the foreseeable future.”

  “I’ll give you a few days and call back.” She stood and plastered on a smile.

  “I have your number, so I’ll call you. Are you staying in town?”

  “This project will keep me busy for at least three months, maybe more, so I rented a place in the warehouse district.” She took a card from her purse and handed it over. “There’s my contact information, so please call me. The books are always better with local cooperation, but I can proceed without you. Only then, don’t complain about any misunderstandings that are open to interpretation.”

  “Captain Savoie has been my boss for five years, ma’am, so trust me, he doesn’t respond well to threats. The facts of this case, like any other we bring to the district attorney’s office for prosecution, are black-and-white. They’re not open to any interpretation, so if I were you, I’d stick to the facts.” He placed her card in his jacket pocket and stood. “I’ll call you when the captain wants to reschedule.”

  “Shit,” she said under her breath, realizing she hadn’t played that one smart at all. Local cops were either eager to spill everything about themselves, or they wanted to keep quiet as a way of hiding any mistakes. The quiet ones were the kind that loved to sue if you exposed them to the world for their incompetence.

  “You’re done already?” Gwen asked once the call connected, and Nicole could sense the smile on her assistant’s face. “Was it a meeting to simply schedule interviews?”

  “Savoie wasn’t there, and his gatekeeper wouldn’t tell me where he was. Today was a total waste of time.” She crossed the street and stared at the building where Sebastian and his like ran the city. Everything her father had said about local law enforcement made sense. “Have you talked to our friend in the department?”

  “I did, and I need more time. The files we got are all we’re getting. I’ve put everything together in a report.” Gwen typed something, which added to Nicole’s aggravation. “It’s in your email.”

  “Text me the contact information. I want all the case files, and I’m going to get them.”

  “Be careful. I’m sure you’ve done this before, but heavy-handedness could derail any cooperation we might get.”

  “Thanks, but I know what I’m doing. Just send me what I asked for.” She hung up and flagged a cab. The only thing she could do while in limbo was read all the facts again. “Let’s see what makes you tick, Sept S
avoie.”

  * * *

  “Are we really going to court over this?” Sebastian said, sounding like he’d lost every ounce of patience he possessed. “It shouldn’t matter where the jar was sent—”

  “It matters who it was sent to,” Sheriff Earl Boonebury said, leaning back in the office chair that appeared to be original to the hundred-and-forty-eight-year-old courthouse and police station. “The problem is,” Earl said, seemingly enjoying his captive audience, “the jar arrived here. And because it did, it’s my case.”

  “Court it is, then,” Sebastian said, throwing up his hands.

  “Dad,” Sept said, patting him on the back. “Sheriff, how about a compromise, since it is your case.”

  “What you thinking, little lady?” Earl said, and her father snorted.

  “You keep the jar and investigate from here, but you let us bring our forensics team in to take a look. Once they’re done, we share whatever we find to help your guys crack the case.” Sept winked at Sebastian, deciding to let the little-lady condescension go for now.

  “And if I say no?” The sheriff really was a brick wall and appeared to be digging his heels in.

  “Then we go to court and drag it out as long as it’ll take to suck up the rest of your department’s budget for the rest of this year and maybe cut into next year’s coffers. I don’t want to sound threatening—” Sept explained, smiling the whole time.

  “Ha.” Earl slammed his fist on his desk. “It sure as shit sounds like it.”

  “Believe me, I’d love nothing more than to drive back home and forget this and let you handle it. My last case gave me enough excitement for a lifetime, so why not compromise and everyone goes away happy?” Sept asked.

  “They’d do the tests here?”

  “Yes,” Sebastian said. “They’re right outside, so all they need is a place to work.” Earl grunted, which they all assumed meant yes, so they left before he changed his mind.

  Sept’s uncle, George Falgout, was standing out in the hall with a young woman who Sept assumed was Alex Perlis’s replacement on the crime-scene unit. “Hey, Uncle George. You’re set to go?”

  “Let me introduce you to Jennifer Shultz,” George said, making the young woman put down the cases she was carrying. “She just started on my team.”

  Sept wondered why Jennifer had joined his team but would never bring it up. Her uncle was in a way the most haunted by their last case, having worked with and mentored one of the worst killers in the city’s history. Her father had told her George had wished she or her partner Nathan had pulled the trigger. In his opinion, Perlis didn’t deserve to live, and given the chance, George would’ve ended his life.

  “Welcome aboard, Jennifer,” Sept said, shaking her hand. “You two have the go-ahead, so take all the time you need. Dad will go with you to keep George from strangling Sheriff Earl.”

  “Where are you going?” George asked.

  “To pick up Keegan and relieve the deputies the sheriff assigned to her.”

  “Tell her congratulations from me and your Aunt Mary. You finally wised up and snagged the best girl in town,” George said and hugged her. “Having Keegan keeping you in line will give your poor mama a rest.”

  “Don’t tell people I’m already whipped, Uncle George. I’ll lose all my street creds.”

  Sept drove back to the cabin, glancing in her rearview mirror occasionally to make sure no one was following her. The chance was nil, and her gift in the mail probably wouldn’t amount to much, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She had so much more to worry about now that she was with Keegan, and she didn’t want some sicko touching anything in Keegan’s world.

  “Learn anything?” Keegan asked when she got out of the car.

  “The mailing information was a dead end, and Uncle George and his new assistant are working on the mystery toe.” She waved to the deputies, who didn’t seem inclined to leave but were staring at them like they expected her to commit a crime. “We can stop at the courthouse and check on their progress, but if they don’t need us for anything, we can go home.”

  “George’s new assistant doesn’t have any marital problems, right?”

  She laughed at Keegan’s ability to stay upbeat even when she was afraid. Even before Alex Perlis had started his killing spree, he’d been a serial abuser, his wife and young son his first victims. “She came across okay, but I’ll check her personal life later. You ready to go?”

  “We’re all packed, but will you promise me something before we head out?” Keegan pressed against her, and the deputies leaned forward and removed their sunglasses as if shocked and wanting to get a better look.

  “Name it.”

  “When we go on our honeymoon, can we skip stuff like this? Not that I don’t love your family, but I prefer the non-work-related stuff instead.”

  She laughed, since her father had spent the last two nights with them, mostly using his time to fight with the sheriff from hell. “You got it, baby, and I promise to open the door only to room service.”

  They packed the car and got the okay to leave, so she started the five-hour trip back, which would give her time to think about what this was all about and how best to tackle it. Usually when someone wanted to send a message or make a point, there was actually a message. Body parts were good for shock value, but nothing beat a handwritten note.

  “What are you brooding about?” Keegan asked.

  “The delivery, considering where we were, is strange,” she said hesitantly, not having her thoughts in order. “Like I said, it’s almost an invitation to something, but I’m not interested. Don’t you think it’s someone else’s turn to hog the headlines?”

  “Maybe it’s an invitation to play with the cop who captured Perlis.”

  “I doubt they’re interested in playing with our dog, babe,” she said, and Keegan elbowed her.

  “Mike is brilliant, but he can’t take credit for all your hard work. And I almost forgot. What did your dad call you about a few days ago? It slipped my mind to ask when he arrived.”

  “Some woman called him and Chief Jernigan about writing a book on the Perlis case. She wants to interview me and everyone who worked the case, but she’s concentrating on me.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Keegan said, squeezing her hand. “Isn’t it?”

  “You know how much I love media and being the center of attention.” She laughed along with Keegan, but what she’d said was true. “The job and doing my best is enough for me, and it’s not me against the world. I have a good team and plenty of support.”

  “I know that, love, but if Fritz Jernigan okayed this, you know how he is, so I doubt he’ll let it go if it’s something he wants you to do. After some of the stuff about the department that made national headlines during the storm, he’s going to want all the good press he can get.” Keegan rested her head back and ran her hand up and down Sept’s arm. “And I know how you are. If you’re forced to do this, you won’t make it about you.”

  “I’m ready to get back to work, but I’m nervous about it too. Perlis took a little of what I most believe in and count on, and I’m trying to convince myself it was a one-time thing.” It had been a long time since she’d taken time off simply to have a good time, and she couldn’t wait to do it again with Keegan. “You’re the one thing I can count on, and I’m happy about it. It’s good to have you all to myself.”

  “That’s always going to be true, but tell me what you think he took from you.”

  “Trust, and I mean absolute trust in my team. I’ve never worried about the people who are supposed to have my back. Getting shot by one of my own isn’t the way it should go.”

  “Alex Perlis is a crazy bastard who fell through the cracks, so don’t lump everyone else you work with in with him. You’re a good cop, and I’m going to be blissfully happy sharing my life with you since, aside from being the noblest person I’ve ever met, you’re sexy as hell. You just have to promise me that you’ll talk to me no matter what.” Keeg
an moved and kissed her cheek, then her neck. “You promise?”

  “I promise, and the same goes for you. If anything’s worrying you, don’t clam up on me.”

  “I’m not the tough, stoic one in this relationship, baby, so that’s a given.” Keegan’s phone rang, and she put it on speaker after her tease. “You didn’t burn the restaurant down, did you?” she asked her sister Jacqueline.

  “Be nice to me. I’m calling to congratulate you and stud muffin, and to check on you guys. Gran said Sept’s dad had to go up there and meet you two for something. Are y’all okay?”

  “How in the hell does Della know everything that’s happening in the city?” Sept asked, and she and Jacqueline laughed. “Someone sent us a toe as an engagement present, so Dad came up and tried to take charge of the investigation.”

  “A human toe?” Jacqueline paused as if not knowing how to respond. “Never mind. I don’t want to know right this minute, since I’d rather hear about the happy, hot time you two had.”

  Keegan rolled her eyes and laughed. “We’re not talking about our sex lives no matter how often you ask, so drop it already.”

  “It’s spectacular. That’s the only thing you need to know on the subject,” Sept said.

  “Thank God one of you is sensible. When are you getting home?”

  “By six, if the traffic’s decent,” Keegan said, and she nodded.

  “Good. Meet me at Blanchard’s at eight, and do not put on the muumuu outfit. We’re celebrating your engagement, so you can start cooking tomorrow.”

  “We’ll be there, and thank you for the champagne,” Sept said.

  “In case you haven’t figured it out, we’re glad you’re going to be a part of our family.”

  “Thank you,” she said as Keegan said her good-byes. “Let’s hope your family always feels that way.”

  “You’re stuck with us now, Seven, no matter what happens.”

 

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