“Where in the hell is that?” Anthony asked as they drove through one of the roughest neighborhoods in the city.
“Look to your right. It’s the abandoned building at the foot of the block.”
“What are you, a walking historian of old city architecture?” He had never heard of the business, much less what building it had occupied.
“Yeah, I’m a genius who can read the company name and logo on the side of the building, even though it’s faded. Hurry up and bring the audio booster with you, and be careful on the stairs. They were a little shaky when Lionel and I went up.”
“A little shaky? I’d hate to see what you would consider dangerous.” Lionel looked through his binoculars and laughed, thinking of the four times they had almost fallen through the wooden steps on the five flights up.
“Shut up and tell me everything’s working perfectly, and we’re taping all of this?”
“Chill, Shelby, we’re getting it all, and man oh man.”
Lionel Jones was a mousy-looking little man who was never mistaken, at any time or by anyone, for a law enforcement officer of any kind. Fine brown hair and a milky white complexion, no matter the time of year, made him the focus of more than one bully on the playground that had been his life. He had passed the FBI’s grueling requirements, not with speed on the obstacle course or high scores at the shooting range, but with his brain and computer capability. Kyle had been lucky to get him assigned to the New Orleans office to help with the wiretaps and other surveillance they had set up for Cain’s case.
He turned back to Shelby, and from the creases around his eyes caused by his big open smile, she could tell he was happy. She noticed, not for the first time, that he had the lushest, longest eyelashes she had ever seen on anyone, male or female.
“What’s got you so rocked today, Li?”
“You ever feel like a big bucket of shit and those two guys down there are a fan?”
“Don’t worry about it, Li. We’re high up enough here to come out of this smelling like veritable roses, once the manure settles down. Glad you guys could join the party. Took you long enough, don’t you think?” She could hear the heavy breathing behind them, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the meeting on the wharf.
“This had better be damned good, Shelby. I think we almost met a very messy end at least twice on those damned stairs.” Anthony put down the equipment she had asked for and waited for someone to explain what he was doing there. Lionel handed him the pair of binoculars he had been using so he could add the new piece of equipment to what he had already set up.
“What’s so interesting down on the water?”
“Jesus, Tony, could you just stand up here and wave a red flag so they’ll see us.”
“Please don’t call me that.
“Yes, I would say this confirms everything in that box Cain gave us.”
Joe nodded as he adjusted his own set of lenses. “I just thought it was a big case of sour grapes on Cain’s part when you first showed me all that stuff, but who would’ve guessed she’d turn out to be the class act.”
“Am I the only one having a huge problem with the fact that you all seem to be on a chummy first-name basis with the head of one of the city’s crime bosses?” Anthony asked as he reached into his pocket for a roll of antacids.
Shelby leaned back against the small half wall and looked at her team members. “He’s right, guys. This is your last chance if you want out. I promised a friend I’d do my job, and that’s what I’m doing. If you think differently, it won’t hurt me if you want to just climb down and forget about all this. Because I can’t promise there won’t be any fallout once this goes down.” Just because she owed Cain didn’t mean they did.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Shelby. You’re right. This is our job just as much as bringing down Cain is. It just stings that she was the one who uncovered this. I feel like I’ve had my head up my ass to have missed something so big.” Anthony reached over and patted her on the knee.
“She’s really not all that bad, if you forget all the stuff she does for a living.” She laughed and blushed a little, remembering the way Cain felt when she had pressed against her.
“Shelby, she’s not worth losing your career over,” said Anthony.
“The way I see it, Anthony, she’s the one who’ll launch our careers when all this is over. Can you live with that?”
Both Anthony and Joe looked back to the wharf and nodded, but Anthony answered for both of them. “I can live with that, if she isn’t expecting anything in return.”
“Maybe a nice dinner.”
“We’ll be happy to take her out for donuts.”
All of them laughed at Anthony before they continued to monitor the talk still taking place below them.
*
“My men tell me Cain’s bitch is back in town sniffing around. Any truth to that?” Giovanni Bracato chewed on the end of the unlit cigar in his mouth and never took his eyes off the muddy, swirling waters of the Mississippi River. He had waited a long time for this day, and he didn’t want anything messing it up.
Giovanni Bracato was what most people called swarthy when they were trying to avoid using the words “greasy” or “slimy,” lest they be thought of as politically incorrect. Too much of the city’s good food and liquor had put on the pounds over the years, and Big Gino, as he was known to his men, with his tight shiny suits and his trademark custom-made alligator shoes, looked like a movie rendition of a bad gangster.
Through the years the Bracato family had fought, along with all the other up-and-comers, for their piece of the city and their share of the action. The third-generation Italian Americans had chosen heroin and cocaine as the means to fill their coffers, setting them apart. They killed without hesitation or remorse, so people on the street had learned to fear the name. Forty years had passed since the first Bracato had immigrated to the states. The family still controlled the biggest part of the drug trade in New Orleans, but Big Gino was ambitious. He wanted control of
