“Were you always with them, or did they get to you after we showed up in New Orleans?”
Jones’s eyes widened when he heard Payne’s proclamation. “What are you talking about?”
But Payne ignored him. “Just answer me that, Levon. From the beginning or just recently? I’ve got to know. To me, it’ll make all the difference in the world.”
Greene continued to stare at Payne, no emotions crossing his face.
“Come on, Levon, just one little answer. Which was it? Before we arrived, or after?”
Greene refused to dignify the question, and to Jones, the silence was maddening. Because of his current position, he couldn’t see what was going on. “Bennie!” he called, trying to get involved in the conversation. He strained his neck, trying to find the dreadlocked servant. “Bennie! Help a brother out! Kick me closer to the action! Anything!”
“Be quiet,” Payne ordered. “If my guess is correct, Bennie’s one of them, too, so he won’t help you. He’s on Levon’s side.”
Jones’s eyes got even larger. He had no idea where any of Payne’s theories were coming from, but the mere possibility that they were true was mind-blowing. “Bennie? Levon? Guards? Will somebody tell me what the hell is going on? I’m supposed to be the detective here. Someone throw me a crumb.”
Payne shook his head. “D.J., just shut up and listen. Levon’s about to tell us everything.”
Greene glanced at Jones, then returned his gaze to Payne. “I can’t believe you, man. How can you think that after all the things I’ve done for you? I showed you my city. I let you sleep in my house. I let you eat my food-”
Payne interrupted him. “You gave us faulty guns. You tried to have us shot. You kidnapped my girlfriend. . . . Should I go on?”
“No,” Greene growled, “you shouldn’t. I’ve heard all that I’m gonna take. You called me up, and I went out of my way to help you guys. And this is how you’re gonna repay me? You accuse me of trying to have you killed? Get fucking real!”
In a burst of rage, Greene kicked a nearby rock, then stormed away in anger. But that was fine with Payne, because it gave him a chance to talk to Jones.
“Do you believe me?” he asked.
Jones tried to shrug. “I know you too well not to believe you, but I’d love to hear something that supports your theory.”
Payne nodded. “Bennie? Do you want to fill him in, or should I?”
Blount glanced at the two men near his feet, then stared at Greene in the distance. “I thinks you better do the talkin’. I don’t wanna make Mr. Greene mad at me.”
Payne smiled. Blount was a hard man to read, but if Payne’s theory about Greene was correct, then Blount had to know more than he was willing to reveal. He simply had to.
“Okay, Bennie, have it your way. I’ll do all of the talking. . . . Remember how things started bugging me on the boat? How my gut knew something was wrong? Well, it was the guards. The guards acted wrong when we showed up.”
Jones scrunched his face. “The guards? I could barely see the guards from the boat, but you could tell that they did something wrong? What, are you psychic or something?”
“When we pulled up to the dock, they approached the boat expecting Bennie. They called to him, asking about the fireworks. Remember? But before Bennie could say anything, Levon told them about a security problem and started giving orders. Right?”
Jones nodded his head.
“What did they do after that?”
“They jumped to attention.”
“And then?”
Jones thought back, trying to remember. He knew the guards ran onto the dock, following Greene’s instructions, but he couldn’t recall anything else. “I give up. Tell me.”
“What did they do with their guns?”
It took a moment, but the solution eventually popped into his head. “I’ll be damned. They threw them to the ground, didn’t they?”
“Even though Levon should’ve been a stranger to these guys, he tells them that there’s a security problem, and they throw away their guns. How in the hell does that make any sense? Come on, even mall security guards would know better than that! Unless . . .”
“Unless they were told what to expect ahead of time.”
“That’s what I figured.”
Jones nodded, admiring his friend’s theory. “I have to admit, that’s pretty good. In fact, I’d give you a round of applause, but . . .”
“You can’t because we let Levon tie us up?”
“Exactly.”
“Probably not the brightest thing in the world that we could’ve done, huh?”
“Nope. Probably not.”
“Right up there with being handcuffed to the desk, isn’t it?”
Jones smiled. The last few days had suddenly become cyclical. “So, did you have doubts about Levon before the guards?”
“Nope. The guards woke me up, but then I started to think back over the past couple of days. The broken guns, his rule against police involvement, his escape through Sam’s secret door, his discovery of Bennie, and so on. I figured all of that was too coincidental to be a coincidence.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Detective work should never be
easy. I mean, two days ago, we were in Pittsburgh with a license plate and a tattoo as our only clues, and here we are on the threshold of finding Ariane. Please! Things were too simple.”
“To be honest, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure about Levon until I mentioned it to him. There was a look in his eye that told me everything. He looked like a big ol’ dog that was caught sleeping on the couch-guilt all over his face!”
“It wasn’t guilt,” Greene remarked. He had circled in behind them, trying to acquire as much information as possible. “It was shock. I couldn’t believe that you caught onto me. I thought I’d done everything right.”
“Don’t kick yourself.” Payne sighed. “It was the guards’ fault. They ruined the entire scene. They should be fired immediately.”
“I concur,” Jones echoed. “In fact, I think you have a big future in acting, just like that other ex-football player from Buffalo. Hmm? What was his name? O.J. something.”
“Nah, Levon’s too good for that! He decided to skip O.J.’s second career and went right to his third . . . a life of crime!”
Jones laughed. Then, using the melody and the accent of the classic Bob Marley song, he began to sing. “He’s just a Buffalo Convict . . . works for da Posse! He took a bunch of steroids . . . now he’s their boss-y!”
“That was clever,” Greene admitted. “Very clever indeed.”
Jones gave him a big wink. “Thank you, Louisiana! I’ll be here all week!”
“Actually, you will be. Might not be alive the whole time, but we’ll worry about that later.”
Payne twisted his head and glanced at Jones. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to worry about that now.”
“Damn.” Greene laughed. “You guys don’t stop. I thought your black humor was just an act, but you guys are even like this in the darkest of situations.”
Payne ignored the comment, opting to change the subject. “Hey, Levon? I gotta know. Did you sell us out before we came to New Orleans or after?”
A grin crossed Greene’s lips. Since his cover was blown, he figured the answer to one question wouldn’t do too much damage to his ruined reputation. He crouched to his knees so he could stare Payne in the eyes. The kindness that had been present during the past few days had been replaced by a cold, hard glare.
“Jon, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been involved with the Plantation from the very beginning. And just so you know, if you had told me why you needed my help during your initial phone call, I wouldn’t have invited you down here. Can you imagine my surprise when you finally told me why you were in town? I almost shit myself! But
