Page 70 of Quarter to Midnight

9

I-10, New Orleans, Louisiana

TUESDAY, JULY 26, 10:05 A.M.

Thank you,” Gabe told the woman at the veterinarian’s office, who’d called because Shoe was ready to come home. “I’ve had to take a quick trip out of town. Can you keep him until I can pick him up later tonight?”

“Of course, Mr. Hebert,” she said kindly. “We all love Shoe here. He’s been an office favorite ever since your daddy brought him home from the shelter, may he rest in peace.”

“Thank you,” he said again, never knowing what to say when people said may he rest in peace. Because his father was not resting in peace. He’d been murdered and he wouldn’t rest peacefully until his killer was behind bars. Or dead. Gabe didn’t really care.

No, that wasn’t true. He’d like to see the killer dead.

“Shoe’s good?” Molly asked after he’d ended the call. She was driving them to Houston in her big red truck. Which made them kind of a target, Gabe thought.

But also had more ramming power than her other car, she’d asserted. And ramming power might come in handy if someone got too close.

That had made him feel better, although it probably shouldn’t have.

“What are we going to say when we find him?” Gabe asked, trying to plan the encounter in his mind.

“Well, we probably shouldn’t lead with ‘Are you Rocky Hebert’s secret second son?’ ” she said. “I think we should say the truth. That we found the payments to his mother through John Alan Industries and wanted to find out why. It’s a fair question.”

“And if he refuses to answer?”

“We cross that bridge when we get there.” She pointed to the radio. “Feel free to find something you like, if you want. I usually go for silence when I’m driving, but if music will help you, then go for it.”

“No, silence is good for me, too.” He pivoted in his seat, checking to see if anyone was following them.

“Nope,” Molly said, giving him an encouraging smile. “Nobody behind us. I’ve been watching.”

Because of course she had. She was good at her job. He nearly apologized again for doubting her but bit it back. “I didn’t get a chance to make you a proper breakfast.”

“No worries. The egg sandwich was just fine.”

It was really the leftover omelet that Burke had been too full to eat, sandwiched between two halves of a toasted bagel. He’d nearly refused to serve it to her, but she’d grabbed it and told him to stop being a food snob.

Which had made him laugh. Which had been her intent.

He let himself study her profile, taking the moment of quiet to admire her shiny blond hair that she’d tamed back into a bun. She was classically pretty, wearing no makeup. He liked that. He especially liked the curves below her pretty face. On a different day, under different circumstances, he’d like to explore those curves.

But that wouldn’t be today, he thought as his gaze landed on the gun at her hip.

She cleared her throat. “Something wrong, Gabe?”

Translated: Stop perving on me.

He searched for something to say that didn’t make him sound like the perv she clearly thought he was. “Why do you have a holster on your belt? Why not a shoulder holster?”

Her lips twitched. “You really want to know?”

Her tone said that he probably didn’t. “Maybe?”

“Shoulder holsters don’t work for... more buxom girls like me. Anything over a B cup and you can’t easily reach across your bosom to grab your gun.”

His mouth fell open, his mind now wondering what she was, if she wasn’t a B. And that was a really unwise train of thought. “I never would have considered that.”

“Men don’t,” she said dryly. “It’s an uncomfortable truth.”

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