I grab my beard and hold it while I consider all the moving parts.
A few exits later, I pull into the Port of New Orleans, our city’s biggest and oldest dock. We keep an office on the East end, one my father has had since before I was born. Now it’s about to be the place where I step up and prove I can hold it together.
The twenty-minute drive felt longer than it should have. The fog followed me here, hanging low along the river. Through the haze, Algiers Point, my home I haven’t been to in days, is barely visible across the water.
Vin and Keller are waiting near the warehouse door. Vin, as steady as ever, gives me a nod, while Keller straightens. His arms crossed in his perfectly tailored suit, displaying his curated mix of calm and quiet intensity.
Keller’s always been a bit of an enigma. At twenty-eight, he is wise beyond his years. He loves to look the part. But he is more than an image in a custom suit. He has built the gambling part of our business up to be quite formidable.
The Stone tables are the most sought-after private games on the Mississippi circuit, drawing in some of the biggest players in the world.
He’s the one who keeps contacts straight and finds the seam in a problem before anyone else sees it. My father taught him to spot trouble early, while it still looks like noise.
“Glad the three of us could meet on short notice,” Vin says in a clipped but calm tone. "Shall we go inside to discuss? Rocco isn’t here yet. We can chat before he arrives.”
Keller looks at me. His expression is thoughtful, and I can see he’s thinking through the scenarios.
“Brother,” he says in greeting. Confidence and bravado seep from him. “You ready to dive into this mess? I told you I can take a bigger role in the docks.”
“I was born ready,” I say, glancing between them. “In due time, though. Let’s get a handle on everything. What do we know about these guys?”
Vin speaks up first. “Alright, first problem’s still our guy sitting in county. We’re short the only set of hands who know the verification for tonight’s handoff at the docks. If he’s out of play, we’re fucked. But I’ve got an idea. I think I can get in on short notice to talk to him.”
Keller’s confidence wavers slightly. “Without him, it’sgoing to be tough. He’s the only one who knows the damn codes.”
I glance between them, already piecing together a plan. “We’ll cover it. Vin, see what strings you can pull to get in to see him. If that’s a no-go, I’ll have the attorney make an official attorney-client meeting. One way or another, we’re getting what we need from him before tonight.”
Vin hesitates. “And if we can’t get in?”
My voice is steady and commanding. “Then I talk to the people involved myself. They’ll understand it’s still business as usual. If they don’t, they’ll adjust.”
“Perfect,” Vin says.
I nod, with that settled. “What’s the second problem?”
Vin’s expression darkens. “Tripp. We’re starting to see signs that he might be operating outside authorized channels. Wells’s been tracking him and noticed he’s been making contact with people outside our circle, including,” he pauses and looks around. “I think he’s been talking to Duvall.”
I let the name sink in. Tripp LaSalle. He’s an external relations and terminal coordination manager, operating embedded in cross-terminal coordination and third-party access oversight.
My father always trusted him for some reason, but I always wondered if he was the kind of guy who just told you what you wanted to hear.
He’d always seemed too eager, too restless. Now he’s thinking he can outsmart us. It’s almost laughable.
I grit my teeth at the name. “The Duvalls. He knows better than to mess with them. How solid is the intel?”
Keller steps in, his voice smooth but serious.
“Solid enough. Wells said he’s seen him meeting with one of the Duvalls’ associates on more than one occasion. He’s been careful, but not careful enough. He thinks noone’s watching him, which means he’s either arrogant or stupid.” He pauses, his eyes locking with mine. “Or both.”
I take a slow breath as I consider what this could mean. Two fires to put out, both with stakes that are too damn high. Tripp's betrayal needs to be handled, but the dock’s exchange can’t wait.
First things first.
“We’ll split this,” I say, the decision coming quickly, decisively. “Vin, you’re on it with Luc.”
Vin nods, already pulling out his phone, his expression hard.
“Keller,” I say, turning to him. “Quietly audit Tripp’s access footprint. Let him think we aren’t digging into him, but if his dock patterns change again, pull him from rotation and secure him off-site. I want to know everyone he’s been in contact with, every call, every meeting. We’re not moving on him yet, but if he takes a shit, I want it documented.”
