I whistle, surprised she is already in her mid-twenties. It’s hard to imagine. “Okay. And we’re sure she will be at Indigo tomorrow night? Are we sure that’s the best place?”
Vin smirks. “Certain she will be there. It’s public enough that she won’t be on guard, but contained enough for us to move without drawing attention. The side street stays quiet. We wait. We take her when the moment’s right.”
I lean back, rolling it over. Indigo is predictable. Predictable is good. Predictable also means witnesses if something goes sideways.
I look at Vin.
“I’m not having her dragged through a crowd,” I say. “No marks. No panic. This ends with her walking out alive and untouched. That’s nonnegotiable.”
Vin nods once, already adjusting. “Got it. Rocky Hendricks will know how to move someone without turning it into a spectacle.”
I don’t answer immediately. I let the silence stretch just long enough to remind him who decides.
“She sees me first,” I say finally. “Not him. Not anyone else.”
“That’s the point,” Vin replies. “Rocky moves her. You’re the authority, the face. Your command is the reason this happened.”
I consider it. Not the plan, but the message.
“And if she fights?” I ask. “I’m telling you, I don’t want this to go sideways.”
“She won’t,” Vin says. “And if she does, it stops beforeit turns ugly. She’s leverage, not collateral. That line doesn’t get crossed unless her father crosses it first.”
I nod once.
“Then that’s how it goes.”
Vin works his jaw before taking a sip of his liquor.
“Once we have her, we move her to the cabin in Slidell,” I say. “She stays there until Laurent gives us a reason to move.”
Vin nods once. “Handled. It’s a fortress. One road in, one road out. You should be there most of the time. That’s how everyone understands this came from you.”
“I can do that,” I say. “I want to be clear. No contact, no leaks. Nothing reaches Laurent unless I decide it does.”
“Of course.”
I accept that with a single nod. “How long do you think this will take? Do you have any insight on him?”
Vin considers it. “I suspect with his daughter being dragged into this, it won’t take long at all.”
I lean forward, forearms on the table. Vin meets my gaze without flinching.
“She’s his pressure point, Ridge. Taking her forces his hand.”
“I know what she represents,” I reply.
The plan settles into place.
“Tomorrow night,” I say. “Indigo Blue.”
Vin lifts his glass slightly. Not a toast, but an acknowledgment.
I don’t raise mine.
“This ends with Laurent Boudreaux answering for what he did,” I say. “Nothing else.”
I lift my glass to my lips but don’t drink. My thoughts are already racing ahead to tomorrow night. Every detail has to go perfectly. One slip and this whole thing blows up in our faces.
