Home > Beneath Dark Waters (New Orleans #2)(7)

Beneath Dark Waters (New Orleans #2)(7)
Author: Karen Rose

   Her jaw tightened. “Most people didn’t know Rico Nova’s name until he was arrested for murder.”

   Kaj noted her tension. It was very well covered, but it was there. “Everyone said that Talley went under after Sixth Day fell apart. Nobody’s seen him for almost four years.”

   “Maybe he’s dead,” she said, her tone flat and grim.

   Kaj sighed. “If he is, it’s a real recent thing.” He handed his phone to Val, one of Sandra Springfield’s photos they’d found on his screen.

   She went perfectly still, her gaze locked on the off-center photo of Aaron Gates and Dewey Talley laughing. Her mouth tightened and she exhaled silently. “He looks different. Older. A lot more than four years older.” She glanced at Kaj. “The beard, the shaggy hair, and the ratty clothes are new. He used to be clean-shaven and well-dressed. I wouldn’t recognize him if I passed him on the street, which I suppose has helped him hide for the past four years. How do you know this is recent?”

   “That’s Aaron Gates’s living room,” Kaj told her. “The movie on the TV was only released a few months ago. In all the photos, they appeared to be friends.”

   She handed him his phone. “Is Talley still dealing?”

   “I checked with an old friend from my days in Narcotics,” Burke said quietly. Almost warily. “Talley is rumored to still be the go-to guy for high-quality meth, heroin, and any pill a user could want. He’s just become smarter about not getting caught. His client list—again, this is rumor—is high-society types. Businessmen, trophy wives, that kind of thing. Aaron might not be part of Sixth Day, but he is somehow involved with Talley.”

   “That makes sense,” she agreed begrudgingly. “The fact that Aaron’s girlfriend hid those photos indicates that they’re somehow important. My guess would be blackmail or some kind of insurance. Photos like that generally are. But that doesn’t necessarily mean Talley was involved in last night’s abduction attempt.”

   “Rick dropped a gun at the scene last night,” Kaj said, and his blood ran cold once again. Rick Gates had a gun in one hand and my son in the other. “Ballistics matched it to a gun used to murder a low-level dealer last year.”

   Val opened her mouth to say something, but Burke silenced her with a look. “Talley’s body type matches last night’s driver—who had a dragon tattoo on his right upper arm.”

   “Like Talley’s.” Val seemed to deflate before squaring her shoulders. “Y’all could have just led with that, y’know,” she grumbled. “But it still doesn’t make sense. The driver told Elijah to run. That’s the opposite of what Dewey Talley would do.”

   “I agree,” Burke said. “But for now, these are the two leads we have. A definitive identification of Rick Gates working with someone who has a tattoo like Dewey Talley’s, who is at least friendly with Aaron Gates. Let’s see where that takes us.”

   She nodded once. “All right, then. Where is Rick Gates now?”

   “We don’t know,” Kaj admitted. “He and the driver got away. NOPD is searching.”

   “What about their camp?” she asked. “Sixth Day has a place out on the bayou. Or at least they did four years ago.”

   Val Sorensen was very knowledgeable about Sixth Day. She’d known about Talley’s tattoo and the existence of their bayou camp, neither of which had been released to the press. Kaj knew because he’d pored over the Sixth Day files all night long to learn whatever he could. More than her knowledge, Val’s interest seemed personal. He needed to find out why before hiring her to protect his son.

   Burke cleared his throat. “The land was private property and the owners back then claimed to have no knowledge of Sixth Day squatting. NOPD believes that they have another camp, and they’re looking for it, but so far, no dice.”

   Her mouth turned down. “So Dewey Talley’s out there somewhere, maybe planning another attempt. Do you want me to take Elijah out of the city?”

   “No,” Elijah said forcefully. “I won’t leave my dad or Aunt Genie.”

   Val started to say something to Elijah, but Kaj lifted his hand. “Actually, Elijah can’t leave. Not easily, anyway. He’s undergoing treatment for juvenile diabetes. His doctor is here in New Orleans. If we can keep him safe at home, that would be our preference.”

   Elijah’s lips trembled, and Kaj’s frozen, terrified heart cracked. His son’s life wasn’t in immediate danger from his disease, but Elijah hated the constant monitoring.

   Val darted a glance back at the little table, her gaze focusing in on the cupcake missing just one bite. “You should have said something,” she said quietly, and Kaj wasn’t sure who she meant to gently chastise—him or his son.

   Elijah bristled. “I didn’t because I’m not stupid. I know what I can eat and what I can’t. I did the carb math in my head before I took a bite. Gave myself a unit of bolus insulin once you’d left to sit over here. I don’t need a needle. I can control my insulin pump with my phone.”

   Val glanced at Kaj before turning her full attention on Elijah. “Okay,” she said with a single nod. “I’ll do the research and you can help me plan our meals. What impact did the adrenaline from your scare yesterday have on your blood sugar?”

   That she asked the question made Kaj relax a little. Despite being thrown off her game at the mention of Dewey Talley, this woman was a thinker and appeared to be a planner, which was exactly what they needed right now.

   Elijah shrugged sullenly. “It spiked. I have a pump, and it did its thing. After a few hours it went back down. I’m not stupid.”

   A simplistic explanation, because the spike had been frighteningly severe, made only worse by Elijah’s worry over Genie. The doctor had wanted to keep Elijah overnight to observe him, relenting when that made Elijah even more upset. But Kaj wouldn’t bruise his son’s ego in front of Val by pointing it out right now.

   “I can see that you’re not stupid, so you don’t need to keep saying that.” She tilted her head, studying Elijah. “Who prepares your meals?”

   “My aunt does.” Elijah flinched. “Did.”

   “She’s been your caregiver while your dad’s at work?” Val asked carefully.

   Kaj thought that she wanted to ask about Elijah’s mother but seemed hesitant. The woman could read a room. Another point in her favor.

   “Yes,” Elijah said. “Since I was small.” He lifted his chin defiantly, as if daring her to say that he was still small.

   He was, of course. His mother had been petite as well, barely five feet tall in her socks.

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