Cally grinned. “You don’t have to. Hey, you said earlier Mr. Williams mentioned your fried okra and collard greens. Why don’t you cook supper and I’ll clean the rooms today?”
Luella nodded.
“I’ve got to remember to refill those brandy decanters. I forgot to put one in Mr. North’s room yesterday.” And I was so distracted by the man I forgot to take it up to his room last night with the sandwich.
Okay, so she was interested in Marcus North. Not really her type, but a great listener. A rare quality that Cally discovered she found rather sexy.
Maybe that explained why she’d talked so much last night. Clearly, she needed a confidante. Maybe she should get a dog.
“GOOD MORNING, Mrs. Burnett,” said Gregor.
“Good morning. Did you all sleep well?” Cally directed her question to the table of four as she set down the casserole and started serving coffee and juice.
Luella came in behind her and began serving the fruit.
“Yes, we did.” Gregor spoke for the group as heads nodded all around. “Just like babies.”
Cally smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“We thought we might water-ski or fish today.”
“The lake’s up, so the skiing should be great. Although the water might be a bit chilly.” She finished pouring the coffee and began serving the casserole.
Peter Sams laughed, “Oh, we can handle it, Mrs. Burnett.” The other men chuckled.
Cally blushed slightly but her eyes flashed a deep blue. “Oh, I’m sure you can,” she said with a cool smile. “It’s just that the water has been unusually high because of the spring thaw upstream. I’m amazed to see everything that comes down river from up north. You wonder how some of it got in the water. Harris and I drove out to the levee last week and saw a huge telephone pole drifting right along. It looked downright peaceful until we realized how fast the pole was moving.”
Gregor dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand. “We’ll only be on the lake, so we won’t be in any kind of danger like that, I assure you.” He smiled patronizingly. If she only knew the kind of danger these men had faced in their careers. “We’ll leave right after breakfast.”
“I’ll clean your rooms while you’re out.” She finished serving and set the rest of the casserole on the sideboard alongside the fruit Luella had left a moment before.
“You mentioned fried okra and collard greens yesterday to Luella. If you’d like, I can have her fix that along with some cornbread for dinner tonight, instead of the menu we’d talked about when you made reservations.”
“That sounds fine. Sams here has never had true Southern ‘soul food.’”
“Well, we can take care of that. Dinner at six o’clock?”
“We’ll be here.”
Gregor watched her leave the room, waiting to be sure she was out of earshot. “That’ll give us plenty of time to check out Palmers and go pick up the boat in town.”
The men nodded as they ate.
“Damn, this is good,” said Sams. “I see why River Trace made such an impression on you, Gregor.”
“Told you I’d picked the perfect location.” Gregor stared hard at the door Cally had just walked through, his eyes taking on a feral gleam. “Besides, there’s no reason we can’t mix business with pleasure.”
MARCUS’S CALVES burned and his chest ached as he ran up the graveled driveway. He needed to run more regularly. He told himself that every time he jogged.
A shame it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Time was in much too short supply these days. This case was about to reach critical mass, not taking into account the trouble brewing in Jackson.
Hodges and his captain couldn’t believe what Marcus and Asa had turned over in the two-horse town of Murphy’s Point. The lieutenant would never have given them McCay County if he suspected it was going to be a hotbed of activity.
This governor’s special casino task force was meant to be a punishment from Hodges—a you-may-be-on-the-team-but-you-won’t-see-any-real-action kind of assignment.
As counties along the Mississippi River passed their own gaming amendments, the potential for petty and violent crime increased. Twenty years ago and two hundred and fifty miles north on Highway 61, Tunica County was a prime example. When the gaming amendments were initially passed, Tunica had only five deputies and no set infrastructure to handle the huge influx of cash suddenly coming into the county.
Today, Tunica was a mini-Vegas. The county itself had definitely had some growing pains along the way. Robbery, as well as fraud and tax evasion, were potentially huge problems.
The best way to get a handle on those problems was to send in undercover employees in areas of responsibility within the casinos themselves. It was effective, but extraordinarily slow undercover work. Because they were on Internal Affairs’ hit list, Marcus and Asa had been given what was thought to be the least-desirable location in the state.
Initially, Internal Affairs had no solid proof to stop Marcus or his partner from going on the governor’s special task force. But now it seemed that they did have evidence of misconduct in the Donny Simmons case—enough evidence to pull Asa from active duty. The investigation could end Asa’s career and seriously damage Marcus’s by association. Everything was being examined with a fine-tooth comb.
Marcus had gone back to Jackson last weekend thinking he might take some time to decompress before this assignment got intense. He hadn’t even planned on going into the office.
What a joke.
Hodges had found out he was in town, and Marcus had spent the better part of Friday and Saturday being grilled by Internal Affairs and his boss. He could still smell the stale cigars in Hodges’s airless office.
The lieutenant had ranted and raved for hours with one of those same cheap, unlit cigars hanging out of the corner of his mouth, his bald head shiny from perpetual perspiration.
“I understand your hesitation to testify against your partner. But hear me now. You are on a very short leash. You even sneeze funny, IA will be all over you like white on rice. Do this assignment by the book or there won’t be a job to come back to. You got it?”
Yeah, he got it all right. What was he going to do? Internal Affairs was breathing down his neck.
He’d tried to tell them he had no testimony to give. Hell, he’d gotten shot during the raid and taken away in an ambulance. How could he know anything about what had happened afterward? And regardless, there was no way he was testifying against his partner. He’d quit before throwing Asa under the bus. Besides, Marcus had his own demons to deal with on the Simmons case.
After the “quality time” with his lieutenant, he’d gone back to his apartment and stared at a glass of Scotch for ten minutes before pouring it down the drain. Oblivion had never seemed more appealing, but he’d promised himself never to go there again.
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