Page 47 of Rowe

Emilio watched him carefully. Killing forty men for failing to find Mara would not locate Mara. Victor knew it. Everyone knew it. But Victor had built his authority on never forgiving weakness, and now his own threat had trapped him as neatly as any dead-end road.

He could kill them and weaken himself. He could spare them and reveal the limits of his word. Outside, thunder sounded far away. The men waited. Victor looked at Theo. Theo waited too. Finally, Victor turned toward the window.

“Get out.” No one moved at first. Victor's voice dropped. “Before I change my mind.”

Forty men moved at once.

The counting room emptied with astonishing efficiency. Boots hammered down the stairs. Engines started below. Doors slammed. Within minutes, the warehouse yard cleared until only Emilio remained.

Victor did not tell him to leave. For a long time neither spoke. At last Emilio picked up the ceramic frog. Victor saw him.

“Put that down.” Emilio obeyed. Victor stared through wet glass toward the river.

He had sent enough men to occupy a neighborhood and received nothing. No Mara. No Belle Fleur Medical Center. No reliable road. No frightened witness dragged from hiding. Not even a useful name.

Only stories. Worse, the stories would travel.

They would travel through marinas and kitchens, under church fans and across bait counters. They would acquire details. Forty men would become fifty. The alligator would become twenty feet long. The clown would become an entire circus. Victor Rossi, who could make businessmen lower their voices and dock owners check their locks, would become the man defeated by cows, grandmothers, bad directions, and a ceramic frog.

Victor's jaw tightened.

“Three years.” Emilio kept his eyes forward. “Three years,” Victor said again.

On the floor, the frog stared upward through dark glasses. Victor kicked it. It slid beneath a cabinet. Emilio decided not to mention that it still had not broken.

Far from the warehouse, in a place Victor's maps did not name, rain ticked against a screened porch. A woman sat in shadow. On a small table rested an old newspaper photograph of Nico Rossi, folded so many times the creases had nearly erased his face.

For the moment, that was enough.

Back at the warehouse, Victor remained at the window until the river disappeared into darkness. He had wanted Mara Guillory. He had wanted her silence. He had wanted the secret she carried about Pelican Insurance buried with every other obstacle between him and the docks.

Instead, forty men had gone into the bayou and returned carrying the same thing Victor Rossi now held.

Nothing.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“No one is chasing rainbows today,” smirked Gator. “All the animals were really the stars of the show. We owe that damn rooster a lot.”

“We’ll send…” Ham frowned looking at the other men. “What do roosters eat? Not chickens, that’s cannibalism. Send whatever they eat.”

The room full of men chuckled, staring at one another.

“He’s going to be angry now,” said Cowboy. “He’s exhausted, his men are exhausted, and he’s still looking. What now?”

“We’re waiting for some feedback from the comms boys. We need the dock owners to change their minds about doing business with him or selling. If we can get a unanimous vote, he’ll be out of luck and out of business,” said Gator.

“At least we know our security systems are working just fine,” smiled Rush. “It was a beautiful thing to watch. We owe Miss Odette a debt. She was spectacular. Everyone was.”

“We’re helping all of them rebuild so I’m sure they did it out of kindness,” said Patrick. “Even so, it was funny to watch from the drones.”

“Funny as shit” smirked Rowe.

“How is Mara handling all of this?” asked Ham.

“She seems to be doing well. She’s scared. For us, not her. I think this showed her how easily we can defend her. But she is right about one thing. We can’t keep doing this with Rossi. Sooner or later, someone will talk and he’ll show up on our doorstep.”

“Which is why we’re going to end this,” said Hiro walking into the room. “We heard back from every dock, all the way to Baton Rouge. No one wants Rossi to take over. They just didn’t have anyone who could help them tell him no.”