Page 24 of Rowe

“I did not authorize you to explain me.” Victor opened the folder. A traffic camera still showed Dean beneath the hospital entrance camera, his face unobstructed and one hand inside his jacket.

“You placed your hand on a weapon in a hospital.” It wasn’t an accusation. It was a statement. One that could not be argued.

“I never drew it.” He knew the words sounded hollow even as he spoke them. But he wasn’t about to die for one stupid woman.

“Because the five men made the outcome clear.” Dean looked towards Hollis and Mercer.

“They stood there and let me handle the room.” Mercer finally met his eyes.

“The desk clerk handled you. An old woman who put you in your place with a blink.” The office door opened. Armand entered in a charcoal suit and closed the door behind him. Victor addressed Hollis and Mercer.

“You followed a reckless man because challenging him required courage. Surrender your credentials, vehicles, and access devices. You will remain under review until I decide whether either of you can still follow instructions or I should kill you.” They accepted the judgment and left without looking at Dean. Victor aligned the folder’s edges.

“Everything you were trusted with is revoked. Every account, key, code, contact, and protection attached to my name ends now. Armand will escort you to a secure room while your access is removed. After that, you will leave this city under supervision and never return.” Dean stared at him.

“You’re erasing me over one bad afternoon.” Rossi was pissed that he was questioning him. Clearly this man needed to go.

“You erased yourself. I am correcting the paperwork. You should be fucking glad that I’m not taking your head off your shoulders. I’m feeling generous today.”

“I won’t go quietly.” Victor met his eyes.

“Then for once, you will be exactly where noise cannot help you.” Armand opened the door. Dean searched Victor’s face for mercy and found none. He left, and the door shut behind him, soft and final.

Victor remained at the desk until the room was silent again. He did not regret Dean’s removal. Regret was for ambiguous decisions. Dean had confused fear with authority and impulse with courage. Men like that survived only while better men absorbed the cost.

Victor pressed a button beneath the desk. His assistant entered carrying a tablet.

“I need the hospital’s exact name.”

“The men called it Belle Fleur,” she said carefully. “I can’t find a listing for it. There was no name on the front of the building, no signs in the parking lot.”

“Belle Fleur may be the town, the parish, or something they heard incorrectly.” She touched the screen.

“The desk clerk answered the phone as Belle Fleur Clinic and Medical Center.” Victor looked up.

“Clinic.”

“Yes.”

“Not hospital.”

“The facility appears to use both terms informally, but the name given was Belle Fleur Clinic and Medical Center.”

“Address?”

She read it aloud although it was vague and non-descript. “1000 River Road.”

Victor repeated it once. He knew the region well enough to recognize the route: highway south, parish road near the abandoned cotton mill, east at the chapel, then a narrow access road through cypress and cane. But he’d never, not once, seen a medical center.

“Send Vance with two men. Day clothes. No matching vehicles. They are to inspect only. They will photograph entrances, roads, cameras, service access, and any route toward the bayou. They will not enter the building. They will not speak to staff. They will not mention Mara Guillory or my name.”

“Understood.”

“Make Vance repeat the last sentence.” His assistant almost smiled.

“I will.”

Vance left forty minutes later in a white utility truck with magnetic pest-control signs on both doors. The signs belonged to a real company, the uniforms had real embroidery, and the work order on the dashboard described an inspection at a grain warehouse thirty miles beyond Belle Fleur. One man drove. Another sat in the passenger seat with a clipboard. Vance rode in back beside equipment no one intended to use.