Page 29 of Shadows Redeemed
His thumb hovered over Jacob’s contact info. He ached to call his brother, to tell him his thoughts. Perhaps together, theycould figure out who the bad guys truly were. But he knew Jacob wouldn’t pick up. Not now. Besides, the sound of the phone ringing could give away his brother’s hiding spot if Broussard and his thugs were close. Parker couldn’t risk it.
Then he stared at Luc Broussard’s name on his notepad. The man, probably barely in his thirties but having seen enough living to make him look like he was in his sixties, seemed singularly focused on recovering his missing drugs and money. Not to mention a side order of bloody revenge against Jacob. He still could have killed Fontaine, but why risk bringing pissed off cops into his headache and making it worse? Would he know who the dirty cops were, though? He had to have someone feeding him information—bad information—to think Jacob was in on it, so who would he go to?
Parker’s brow furrowed as he considered his options. Who else might have insight into the cop’s murder? He needed someone with connections to both the police force and the criminal underworld. Someone who…
His train of thought derailed as a familiar figure caught his eye. Across the street, engaged in an intense conversation, stood Bryce Anderson. The grizzled private investigator cut a disheveled figure, his weathered face set in hard lines as he spoke in low tones to none other than Luc Broussard himself.
Parker’s heart rate spiked. What was Sage’s mentor doing talking to a known criminal like Broussard just after they had filled him in on what was happening? At least if Luc was there, he was no longer chasing Jacob. But did that mean they lost him or caught him?
Parker pressed himself against the wall, straining to hear their conversation over the bustle of the Quarter, but he was too far away.
Gritting his teeth, he turned the corner, keeping the others in his line of sight through the reflection in the shop windows ashe eased his way down a couple of storefronts. When he felt sure the others wouldn’t notice him, he crossed the street, keeping to the shadows of awnings and sidewalk merchandise until he got close enough to duck behind another wall leading into an alley. Pressing himself against the warm brick, he edged his face as close to the side of the building as he could until he could finally make out what they were saying.
“…cabin was supposed to be foolproof,” Luc hissed. “How the hell did you screw that up?”
Frustration pinched Bryce’s features as he crossed his thick arms over his chest. “I can’t help it if he heard me coming. It’s not like there’s a lot of city noise out there to cover my tracks. Just crickets and frogs. I hate it out there.”
“I don’t care,” Luc snapped. “You weren’t supposed to shoot him. Just snatch his ass up. That man took our drugs. I want them found. My old man is losing his patience.”
Bryce shrugged. “Then you shouldn’t have promised what you couldn’t deliver. And Jacob shot at me. What the hell did you think I would do? I shot back. Look, it’s no skin off my nose. Besides, the cops will do Jacob in, which means we can sit back and relax.”
Luc rolled his eyes as he tossed his hands into the air. “Are you brain dead? If Jacob’s in prison, how are we getting our hands on our drugs?”
“You’re gonna have to eat that, I’m afraid. They’re going to pin that cop’s death on Jacob, and the other cops are going to see that he never makes it to the courtroom.”
Luc shoved his hands into his pockets. “Do you think he did it? Killed that cop? But why? Why would he want to bring heat to himself?”
Bryce scoffed. “Are you kidding me? You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
Parker held his breath as he leaned in closer. “The man’s a cop, you idiot. You hired a cop to haul your drugs around. That’s why whoever took them knew where they would be. Your thief’s a cop.”
Luc growled. “Yeah, I just found that out, no thanks to you. Which begs the question—why the hell didn’t you tell me who he was?”
A sinking feeling pulled at Parker’s gut. At least he hadn’t been too far off on his theory. There was a dirty cop out there. Now Parker just had to find whoever it was.
And then the twisting in his gut grew worse as his mind raced to the beginning part of their conversation. Cabin? They just admitted to attacking Jacob out at their cabin? But how could Bryce possibly know about that place? Unless…
A cold realization washed over him. Sage. The timeline fit. She still worked for Bryce when she started dating Jacob and must have mentioned the cabin to the older man at some point, not realizing its significance in the Franklins’ lives. Now, something so innocent, a conversation over lunch or unwinding after a case, almost got Jacob killed.
He stared at the window across the street, glaring at Bryce. The man had been someone Sage idolized, the detective she aspired to be, and he had been the one who shot Jacob. This would crush her more than when Jacob betrayed her. Parker’s heart ached for her, knowing how devastated she would be when she learned the truth about her mentor.
He edged closer, desperate to catch more of their conversation. His foot scuffed against the pavement, and Bryce’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto Parker’s with laser-like intensity.
Fear froze Parker in place as Bryce’s expression shifted from surprise to cold calculation. In that moment, Parker knew he was in serious trouble. It was time to make a quick escape.
His heart hammered in his chest as he forced himself to move, to act casual, to pretend he hadn’t just overheard a conversation that could get him killed. He fumbled for his phone, pretending to be engrossed in a text message as he slowly backed away from the two men. As soon as he could, he turned and ran.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE STENCH OF STALE coffee and bureaucracy assaulted Sage’s nostrils as she strode into the New Orleans Police Department. The cacophony of ringing phones, shuffling papers, and muttered curses formed a discordant symphony that grated on her nerves. She ran a hand through her fiery red hair, suppressing the urge to turn tail and bolt as she remembered how much she hated this part of her former job. Coming here brought up too many sour memories.
Dane led the way with his usual air of calm authority, and Elvis brought up the rear, leaving her sandwiched between them, a slice of determination in a sandwich of anxiety. The last time she’d walked these halls, it had been to bail Jacob out of trouble, and now she was back to do the exact same thing. The irony wasn’t lost on her. She’d stuck her neck out for Jacob before, and now it looked like he might have made her efforts a complete waste of time. She knew Parker believed his brother, but he didn’t know what she knew. Didn’t know that last time, Jacob fudged the evidence. That left her doubting everything this time around, so why was she even there? Good question.
As they approached the detectives’ bullpen, the smell of burnt coffee intensified, mingling with the acrid odor of cheapcigars and flop sweat. Sage wrinkled her nose, wishing she could breathe through her ears instead. She recognized the two men immediately and when Blake Nealey looked up from his desk, his expression soured like milk left out in the Louisiana sun. Apparently, he recognized her as well, and by the look on his face, his memories were just as bad as hers.
He leaned back in his chair, tossing his pen onto his desk. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Silver Investigations. I had heard you were in town, and I can probably surmise why. Back to defend the indefensible?”
