Chapter 11

Triana sat at a table in the back of the club on Dauphine Street with Kim, both of them trying their best to ignore the skeevy way the guys at the bar were leering at them. It was still early in the afternoon, and probably two or three hours before the normal evening crowd started trickling into the underground speakeasy to drink their fancy cocktails and listen to the blues musicians strum their instruments in the joint’s almost cave-like ambience, but that hadn’t stopped the half-dozen professional drinkers at the bar from starting early—or taking a marked interest in them.

“This guy is showing, right?” Kim asked softly.

Triana glanced at her watch. The man she and Kim were waiting to meet was already ten minutes late. Ten minutes wasn’t that late in this part of town, where it could take that long just to find a parking space, but with the guys at the bar eyeing her and Kim like they were candy in a vending machine, it felt a lot longer.

“He’ll be here,” Triana said firmly.

She had to believe that, if for no other reason than the fact that she’d dragged Kim all the way down here with her in the first place.

“You sound pretty convinced considering you don’t even know the name of the guy we’re supposed to be meeting,” Kim muttered.

Triana couldn’t argue with that since it was true. But Bodine had promised the guy would be there, and she trusted Bodine. Mostly.

She was here for one simple reason—she’d opened that sealed envelope of crime scene photos Bodine had given her. Everything had changed the moment she’d seen them. She knew she shouldn’t have looked, especially since Bodine had warned her against it, but she’d been digging through the rest of the files full of information on her father’s death early that morning and the plain brown envelope had been lying there, bugging her. So she’d opened it and pulled out the photos.

She knew it wasn’t as much the need to see if there was new evidence in there as it was the curiosity of not knowing. She hated not knowing stuff.

Part of her realized this sudden burst of curiosity probably had something to do with the fact that she didn’t know what was going on with Remy. Last night had been strange. She’d first picked up on the vibe at her mom’s place, during dessert. Remy had been looking at her, not with the interested, hungry expression she’d seen earlier, but almost with a distracted and distant one. She also noticed he hadn’t laughed too much the rest of the evening either.

It had only gotten worse when they’d gone back to his hotel room. Yes, they’d made love, and it had been beautiful and amazing. But afterward, Remy had been tense and hadn’t spoken more than a word or two as she’d fallen asleep on his chest. She was sure she’d done something wrong but had no idea what.

She couldn’t help feeling Remy was pulling away from her all of a sudden. That had confused the hell out of her and left her sitting in her room at her mother’s apartment trying to figure out what had changed. When she couldn’t figure that puzzle out, she’d decided to work on another one instead.

Unfortunately, once she’d spread the photos across the top of the small desk in her bedroom, she’d realized why Bodine hadn’t wanted her to see them. To say they were horrible was an understatement. She’d known her father had been shot multiple times, but she hadn’t been ready to see the amount of damage.

She worked in an ME’s office, so she’d seen horrible things before and had dealt with them. She told herself she’d be able to look at them in a detached manner, maybe see a clue the police and Bodine had missed. She could treat it like another case at work.

But this wasn’t another case. This was her father, and it was different.

Tears in her eyes, she’d shoved the photos back in the envelope, never wanting to think of her father that way again, but it was too late. What she’d seen couldn’t be unseen. She’d never forget what those men had done to her father.

She was glad her mother had been out shopping at the time because she’d cried for a long time after that. Later, the pain and tears had turned to anger, and she’d started seething. That was when she’d vowed she would catch the people who had murdered her father. Suddenly, she didn’t want them in prison any longer; she wanted them dead. It was a horrible thing to think, but it was there, and she couldn’t act like it wasn’t.

That was also about the time Bodine had called and told her he’d spent the night talking with a guy who’d heard someone bragging about killing a “mean old man in a jazz club and putting a bullet right in his head.” The man told Bodine it had been a while ago, but he still remembered the braggart clearly because the guy had been one big-ass dirtbag.

Bodine had a good description and was going to start nosing around for the guy. “A big blowhard like him shouldn’t be too difficult to find. If he’s bragged about it once right out in the open in a bar, there’s a good chance he’s done it other times.”

That had seemed like a reasonable plan, but with thoughts of her father’s violent murder still fresh in her mind, Triana said she wanted to meet the guy and talk to him personally. Bodine hadn’t been thrilled with the idea, but she’d insisted, pointing out she was the one paying the bills.

Triana glanced at her watch again, then sighed.

“What’s going on with you and Zane?” she asked Kim, hoping to distract herself from thoughts of how crazy it had been to come to a place like this to talk to a man who obviously hung out in bars with murderers. Kim could probably use the distraction too.

Kim smiled. “Nothing much. We mostly hang out and talk. He’s easy to talk to, and I have to admit, I could listen to that sexy accent of his all day.”

Triana considered asking exactly what her friend meant by mostly but then reconsidered. It was obvious that Kim was more relaxed than she’d been since Shawn the Jerk had left her. If Zane was responsible for that, she was fine with it, regardless of what they did or didn’t do when they were together. Triana was just happy to see a smile on her friend’s face again.

“Zane’s figured out I’m not really in a relationship place right now, that I’m rebounding and just need a way to get my frustrations out,” Kim continued. “We make out a little, but nothing serious. I don’t think it would be fair to Zane. He’s too amazing to jerk around. Besides, I’m still in love with Shawn, even if he isn’t in the picture anymore.”

Triana tried to read between the lines of those last few sentences, still not sure if Kim and Zane were sleeping together, but something told her they weren’t.

“How about you and Remy?” Kim asked. “Did you take my advice and use this week as a chance to make up for all that time you wasted back in high school?”

Triana smiled.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Kim said. “So, are you guys going to be doing the long-distance-relationship thing then?”

Triana’s smiled faded at that. Before last night, she would have said the two of them were definitely heading in that direction, but now, she didn’t think so. The ache in her chest hurt so much she could barely breathe. It was her own fault. She’d let things get a little out of control, started feeling things for Remy way too fast.

“What’s wrong?” Kim asked.

“Nothing.” Triana pasted on a fake smile. “We’ve had a lot of fun this week, but I don’t think there’s a future between Remy and me.”

Kim’s eyes widened, but before she could say anything, movement near their table interrupted her. Triana lifted her head to see a skinny, gray-haired man standing there. The way he looked at her made her think he wasn’t all there, and Triana was doubly glad she’d asked Kim to come with here. Even though she had no idea what Kim would do to help in a scary situation involving this man.

“Are you Triana?” he asked in a rough voice.

Triana nodded, sure he must be the guy she was there to meet. He certainly fit the part of a man who spent a large part of his life in a bar. His voice had that distinctive throaty rasp she imagined came from a lifetime of living off booze and cigarettes.

“That’s me,” she said. “Are you the person Marcus Bodine told me about?”

The guy nodded but didn’t sit. Instead, he looked back and forth between her and Kim. “Marcus said you’d be here alone.”

There was no question in the statement, just a simple declaration of fact.

“I didn’t think it was a very good idea to come here alone, so I brought my friend,” she said.

The man regarded them for a moment, then nodded. “Probably smart. This joint can get a little rough when the alcohol starts pouring.” He glanced at the bar. “For some of these guys, it never stops.” He pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’m Dominic. Marcus told me about how you’re looking for the man who murdered your father. I told him everything I know about the guy I heard bragging about killing someone. It might have been your father or someone else, or maybe he just made it up. I know you probably want details, but I’m not sure what else I can tell you.”

Triana really didn’t know what kind of details she was looking for, but as a forensic analyst, she knew that sometimes the littlest clues made all the difference.

“Just tell me everything you remember from that night,” she said. “Sometimes, talking helps you remember stuff you thought you’d forgotten.”

Dominic didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “I was barhopping that Thursday night. I remember because it was payday. It was also getting near closing time, around four o’clock in the morning maybe. Most of the tourist types were off the street.

“There were a bunch of rough guys at the bar in this one place. Can’t for the life of me remember which place it was, though.” He shook his head. “Anyway, these guys were telling stories to prove to each other they were a bunch of badasses. Most of the stories were lame, like punching some drunk guy who was already too tanked to see it coming.

“But then this big guy started telling this story about walking into an empty jazz club and killing an old man. A lot of people laughed at first, but they all stopped when the dickhead started adding details about how many times the old man was shot and where. It got really graphic, and by the time he was done, half the bar had emptied out. No one wanted to be anywhere near this guy. He smelled like ten kinds of crazy wrapped up in a bag of horse crap.”

Triana swallowed hard. “Tell me exactly what he said.”

Dominic hesitated but then did as she asked. By the time he was done, Triana was convinced the man had definitely been talking about her father. He even said the old man had growled. That was something her father did when he was mad.

“What did the man look like?” she asked Dominic. “Can you describe him?”

Dominic thought about it for a while. “Like I said, he was a big man. I mean, the guy had muscles on top of muscles. He had a tattoo on his arm too—a ship’s anchor, I think.”

Triana glanced at Kim, wondering if her friend was thinking the same thing she was, that maybe the guy had been a sailor or worked on a ship. New Orleans was a port city, so there were a lot of sailors. But how many would fit this guy’s description? He sounded like a man who’d stand out in a crowd.

“Have you ever seen him again?” Triana asked.

Dominic shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

Regardless of what he looked like, Bodine would still need a lot of luck to find him, Triana thought.

“Did you recognize anyone else who’d been at the bar that night, someone who might know who this guy is?” Kim asked.

The question seemed to catch Dominic off guard, but after a moment, he nodded. “Yeah, actually I’m pretty sure I’ve seen some of those guys around before. They’re a group of us regulars who live in the bars of this town.”

Triana tried to keep herself from getting too excited—and failed. “Do you think you could talk to some of those other guys, see if they might know the name of this big man?”

Dominic looked concerned. “I don’t know about that. I understand you wanting to find this guy if he was the one who killed your father, but I wasn’t intending to get involved like that.”

“I can pay you,” Triana said quickly.

At the mention of money, Dominic’s whole demeanor changed. “How much?”

She pulled out her purse, digging through it under the table until she came up with eighty-seven dollars. She shoved it across the table at him. “This is all I have on me, but if you find this guy, I’ll give you five hundred more.”

That must have convinced him because he nodded, quickly scooping up the money. “If you give me your number, I’ll call as soon as I find out something.”

Triana wasn’t thrilled to be handing out her number to a random stranger, but if this worked, she’d happily get a new phone number.

Five minutes later, she and Kim left the bar and were walking down the street, glad that the on-again, off-again rain had decided to stop for a while. As she turned toward her mother’s shop, Triana quickened her pace until she was practically running. This was going to work; she could just feel it. She was going to finally find the guy who murdered her father.

She was still thinking about that possibility when Kim brought her crashing back down to earth a few minutes later.

“Okay, I came with you to see that creepy guy, and I really hope something good comes of it, but right now I want to hear about you and Remy,” her friend said. “Why do you think you guys don’t have a future?”

Triana sighed. Even though she didn’t want to talk about it, the words came tumbling out on their own and she told Kim everything, starting with the night she and Remy had first slept together and finishing with what had happened last night. She hadn’t intended to get emotional about the whole thing, but all her worries and doubts came rushing back to the surface, and before she knew it, she was crying. Not just for what she might have already lost, but for what now might never be at all.

* * *

Remy glanced over at Triana, where she sat in the booth across from him scanning the menu. He couldn’t miss the fact that she seemed more subdued than usual. Her heart was beating a little faster than it usually did and she was putting off a weird vibe.

Then again, maybe it was the weather. It was making everything seem off. He looked out the big windows that overlooked Lake Pontchartrain. The rain and wind had gotten stronger throughout the day, making him think it had probably been stupid to drive all the way out to the far side of the lake for dinner. But he’d wanted to take Triana someplace quiet and private so they could talk. On the other hand, coming to a restaurant that was a thirty-minute drive from her mother’s shop might not have been the best idea, considering the topic he planned to bring up tonight.

He hated to do it, but after the conversation he’d had today with Max, it was obvious that he needed to be honest with Triana and tell her where things were—or rather weren’t—heading. The mere thought of telling her he wanted to stop seeing her was enough to make him want to throw up. He prayed she’d handle the breakup well. If not, he didn’t know what he would do.

If he was lucky, Triana would be the one to suggest she wasn’t interested in seeing him after they got back to Texas, so he wouldn’t have to handle the chore.

What a completely gutless piece of crap he was.

Since he wasn’t very hungry, Remy didn’t really pay too much attention to the menu. His stomach was feeling a little tender anyway. A side effect of those burgers he’d eaten today at lunch, he supposed. He’d probably just get whatever Triana ordered. That turned out to be a seafood plate with shrimp, crabmeat, and steamed vegetables. It wasn’t something he would have normally ordered, but it would do for tonight.

After the waitress left, an uncomfortable silence descended over the table. Remy searched for something to say, wondering where the easy connection that had existed between them the past few days had gone.

“Have you missed working with your team in Dallas this week?” Triana finally asked.

Remy’s mouth edged up as he thought of his pack mates. Now that she mentioned it, he actually did miss them despite the fact that they could be irritating as hell sometimes.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” he admitted. “I thought I’d enjoy some time away from the insanity that’s our lives on the Dallas SWAT team, but now that I’m here, I kind of feel like I’m missing a part of myself, you know?”

She smiled. “Not really. I mean, I love my job at the crime lab, but outside of a few close friends, the only time I see most of them is during the annual Christmas party. I can’t imagine being so close with my coworkers that I’d think of them as family. It must be pretty awesome.”

He chuckled, feeling a weight dropping off his shoulders as the tension that had been filling the space between them melted away, reawakening their vibrant connection. Maybe he could put off the serious part of the conversation until he dropped Triana off at her mother’s shop.

“It is.” He couldn’t count how many times his pack mates had covered his ass on the job, even taking bullets for him when necessary. “There’s something special about knowing people will always have your back but will still call you out when you’re screwing up.”

She laughed. “I can’t imagine you ever screwing up.”

“We all screw up,” he said. “The thing that’s important is having people around that you trust enough to get you out of trouble when it happens.”

She considered that for a moment. “If the rest of your team is like Max, Brooks, and Zane, they must be pretty incredible. You must have a million stories about them.”

That was an understatement. But if he told her any, he’d have to censor some of the best parts. He couldn’t have her figuring out the whole Dallas SWAT team was made up of werewolves.

Remy rested his forearms on the table and grinned. “Well, if you want to hear a funny story, I should probably tell you about Cooper first. He met his future wife in line at the bank right before the place got held up.”

“No way!” Triana’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

“He arranged a date, then kicked the crap out of the bank robbers.”

“Whoa.” Triana smiled. “How’d their date go?”

“Exceptionally well,” Remy told her. “They met in June and got married two weeks ago.”

“You’re full of it,” she said, smacking his arm. “You’re making that part up.”

As the waitress set down their plates, Remy promised her he wasn’t joking. To prove it, over dinner, he went into greater detail about Cooper’s whirlwind romance with his wife, Everly.

Triana laughed and asked lots of questions, saying it sounded insane but that she believed Remy. Before long, he found himself telling her about all the guys meeting their significant others, while leaving out all the werewolf stuff, of course.

A little while ago, he had wondered why he’d even brought Triana all the way out here in such crappy weather, and now he was beginning to think the tension he’d felt was all just a figment of his imagination. Hell, even his appetite was back. He’d absolutely demolished the plate of seafood in front of him.

“Wait a minute,” Triana said with a laugh. “I think I’m picking up a theme with all these stories you’re telling me. Is it me, or do most of them revolve around your teammates getting themselves into crazy situations with women they just met?”

Remy shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Relationships do seem to be the central theme of most of the insanity that’s been going on lately.”

She sipped her wine thoughtfully. “Speaking of relationships, do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

Remy’s gut clenched as he wondered where she was going with the question. Nowhere good that he could think of. But it wasn’t like he could say no, not without coming off weird.

So he nodded—and prayed.

“How is it possible that a guy as good-looking, sweet, and single as you hasn’t gotten seriously involved with anyone yet?” Triana asked.

Remy felt his fingertips start to tingle, as if another shift was coming on. He forced himself to calm down as he tried to laugh off the question, not sure how to even begin to answer it.

“I guess I just haven’t met the right person yet,” he said.

Triana’s gaze darted to him. Suddenly, he realized he’d left a lot of room for interpretation with that lame-ass answer. Shit. What if she assumed he was implying she was the right person? Which he supposed she was…just at the wrong time.

But Triana didn’t bite one way or the other. “I think you’re avoiding the question,” she said. “Are you honestly telling me that with all of your teammates finding love in the most unusual of circumstances, you’ve never found anyone you thought might be the right person for you?”

Remy swallowed hard. He couldn’t help thinking about what he’d had with Jess, but that wasn’t anything he wanted to get into. He had wanted to talk to Triana about their relationship, though—or at least the relationship they couldn’t have. Now was as good a time as any to do it.

“There was someone,” he finally admitted quietly. “But that was a long time ago.”

Triana looked stunned. “Did you love her?”

He nodded, unable to say the words.

On the other side of the table, Triana looked ashen. “What happened? Why didn’t it work out?”

Damn, he didn’t want to get into this. “It’s something I’d really rather not talk about.”

“Why not?”

Remy gripped the edge of the table, afraid if he didn’t, he might shift at any moment. On the other side of the table, Triana regarded him curiously, and he knew he couldn’t leave her hanging. He’d wanted her to understand there couldn’t be anything between them, hadn’t he? It was time to man up and say what needed to be said.

“It didn’t work out, okay?” he said, his voice sharper than he intended. “It ended badly, and since then, I haven’t been able to find anyone who could convince me to try again.”

He cringed as he realized how harsh his words had been. That was nothing compared to how shitty he felt when he saw the pain in Triana’s eyes. But what else could he have said? It was the truth. He didn’t have it in him to open his heart up again, to get hurt again. Wasn’t it better for Triana to know that now, instead of waiting until later when it would be even harder for her to take?

“So, there’s no…” Voice trailing off, she looked down at her half-empty plate, blinking her eyes rapidly.

“No,” he said softly. “There isn’t.”

Triana shook her head, then pushed back her chair and made a beeline for the door. Remy hastily tossed money on the table, running out of the restaurant to catch up to her. By the time he did, she was halfway to his car, oblivious to the rain soaking her pretty dress. He got the umbrella up and over her, but she didn’t seem to notice that either. At least he could lie and tell himself the wetness he saw on her face was the rain.

As he got her in the car and walked around to the driver’s side, he thought he might actually throw up.

The drive back into the city was long and painfully quiet, except for the constant thump-thump of the windshield wipers and the splash of the tires on the wet road. Remy tried to convince himself he’d done the right thing, but damn, if that was the case, why the hell did it hurt so much to see Triana simply shut down like she had? It was like someone had turned off a light bulb, leaving everything in darkness.