Ghost River by Jon Coon (best non fiction books of all time TXT) 📕

topped with real cream along with eggs, grits, toast, and andouille sausage.

When they finished eating Alethea excused herself momentarily. Cas leaned over in her chair and kissed him, saying quietly, “We’re family, you and me. Please come home.”

“Cas—”

They heard Alethea coming down the stairs, and Cas eased away.

Once Gabe was ready to leave, Alethea followed him out to the cruiser. She opened the passenger door and sat for a moment. “I’ll decide in the next few days what to do about the cabin and let you know. Souriciere will be fine; don’t worry about her. But there’s something else. When you left, Cas was heartbroken. Now that pain has had years to fester. Don’t underestimate how far she might go to get you back or get back at you. I’ll keep on praying for you, even though you are the worst roof contractor I’ve ever met.” She kissed his cheek and opened the door. “I’ll call you in the next few days. Be careful in the river.”

Gabe sat motionless for a moment, remembering the old days with Cas. She could be simultaneously impetuous, endearing, sometimes cruel and petulant. Being in a relationship with Cas was like flying tandem on a broomstick through a hurricane, the ride of a lifetime . . . with survival unlikely.

He remembered her anger when he told her he was leaving. Hot-blooded Cajun? Nope, a panther with its tail in a trap would have been easier to reason with. He started the engine and looked back at the house. Cas was watching from the upstairs bedroom.

“Mo laime twa.”

Gabe saw her mouth the words as she waved. He waved back. It was a phrase his mother had said often, “I love you.” Now there’s something to worry about.

Gabe found reverse and backed down the cobblestone drive. He took old Highway 90 through Biloxi and tried to remember the grand old homes destroyed by the past thirty years of storms. But that failed. Only conflicted memories of eighteen-year-old Cas prevailed. Of all the things I’ve messed up in my life, this is . . . the rest wasn’t worth saying.

His cell phone jarred Gabe back from his memories of Cas. Bob sounded anxious. “Rogers and one of his men went to the Greenly house last night. They attacked Zack and the girl. Mickey, isn’t that her name? She shot the one with Rogers. From their description, it sounds like he’s the other shooter in Captain Brady’s murder, the one the dog bit. We got blood and a knife with his prints. How soon are you coming back?”

“Are the kids okay?” Gabe asked.

“Yeah, pretty rattled, especially the girl. We took them back to your place on the river. Carol’s there.”

“How about the guy she shot?”

“It was a twenty-two, not fatal. They got away in a Lincoln Town Car that belongs to Peterson. How interesting is that? How close are you?”

“I’ll be there in three hours. Where do you want to meet?”

“Better come to the office. I think we need to get District Attorney Carruthers up to speed.”

“Got it. See you there.”

Of course I’d be with Cas when those kids needed me. New Orleans is nothing but trouble. After beating himself up for another fifty miles, he called Carol.

“Are you on your way back?”

“Yeah, are Mickey and Zack okay?”

“Under the circumstances, they’re doing pretty well. Tell me about New Orleans.”

“Alethea has a beautiful home in the Garden District. She and her daughter took me out for dinner, and it was late. I stayed—”

“Daughter?”

“Casilda, Cas, we met after Katrina. She was a student at Tulane.”

“So she’s in her thirties now. Does she look like her mother?” Carol asked. There was an edge in her voice.

“A little I guess.” This is not going well.

Silence. Then, “Are you planning on going back there any time soon?”

“No, no plans.”

“If you change your mind I want to go with you. I love the city. It would be fun to see it again.”

“Sure.” So, it’s the city you want to see? Right.

CHAPTER 20

0900

DA Jessica Carruthers’s Office

Lots of wind

In the DA’s office, Jessica Carruthers, Bob, Gabe, and Captain Martin huddled around a conference table.

“We’ve got all points on Rogers,” Bob began. “We got his prints off the file boxes taken from Carol’s, and Peterson’s housekeeper said he was a frequent visitor. She also said the old man was pretty upset at him about something the last time he was at the house.”

“Any word on where Peterson went after he ditched us?” Gabe asked.

“Nothing yet, but we don’t think he could have gone far.”

“How sick is he?”

“The housekeeper says stage-three or stage-four cancer, but he’s still able to get around a little with help. Hasn’t got long . . . probably a few weeks or less.”

“Have you tried the daughter, Zack’s mom?” Gabe followed up.

“She’s gone too. Neighbors saw her pack the car the morning before Rogers broke into her house.”

DA Carruthers made notes in an iPad then looked up at Gabe, “Have you got anything substantial on Peterson and the bridge? Bob said you have new evidence.”

Gabe pulled out his pocket pad and quickly glanced at his notes. “Before Rogers took the inspection reports, we went through them looking for anything on the I-10 bridge.”

Gabe and Bob told the rest of the story ending with the attack on Zack and Mickey last night.

“We suspect Peterson was in bed with McFarland Construction,” Bob said. “Owned by the Conners family with ties to the congressman. Can’t prove it yet, but my gut says they were skimming state money back into political campaign funds and pensions for cooperative state engineers. After making a tidy profit for themselves of course.”

“Congressman Conners? Friend of law enforcement, defender of pensions and benefits? That Congressman Conners?” Captain Martin asked.

“Afraid so,” Gabe answered.

“Going after him is a career move the up-and-comers will want to avoid,” Captain Martin noted.

“Well, fortunately . . .” Gabe replied.

“Oh, great. I have two kids who want to go to college. But you go right ahead, get us all