My phone rings. Unknown number. I almost don't answer, but something makes me pick up.
"Ms. LaCroix, this is David Bethany with the Times-Picayune. I'm working on a story about the Deveraux arrest and I wanted to give you an opportunity to comment."
"I already gave a statement through my attorney."
"I understand. But we've just received surveillance footage that appears to show you at Dominion, the private club mentioned in the FBI press conference. The footage was provided by an anonymous source. I wanted to ask if you have any comment before we publish."
The bottom drops out of my stomach. "What footage?"
"Video showing you in what appears to be a private room at the club. The anonymous source claims this is representative of the material Armand Deveraux was monitoring. I'm required to give you an opportunity to respond before publication."
Someone leaked the surveillance footage. Not just photographs. Actual video from the monitoring station. And they leaked it to the media.
"No comment," I say, voice coming out steadier than I feel. "Contact my attorney Henry Castellanos for any official statements."
I end the call. Turn to Luc. "Someone leaked surveillance footage to the media. Video from Dominion. The Times-Picayune is publishing it."
His expression goes lethal. "When?"
"I don't know. Soon." I pull up the Times-Picayune website on my laptop. Nothing yet. But it's coming.
Another text from Henry appears:
Just got a call from Times-Picayune. Someone leaked surveillance footage. They're publishing within the hour. This changes everything. Emergency call in 10 minutes.
I stare at the screen. Someone leaked evidence from a federal case. The FBI wouldn't compromise their own investigation. NOPD wouldn't risk the prosecution. That leaves someone with access to case details, someone who knew what the surveillance captured.
Someone who benefits from maximum damage to my reputation right before a board vote.
"Patricia." The name comes out bitter. "Has to be. She's been working every angle all week, and now surveillance footage conveniently leaks right before they push for my resignation?" I look at Luc. "No one else benefits from maximum damage right now."
"Can you prove it?"
"No. But the timing..." I shake my head. "Even if she didn't leak it directly, she's connected enough to make it happen. A friend in law enforcement, someone with access to case files, a PI she hired." My jaw clenches. "Henry needs to investigate. If she's dirty enough to leak federal evidence, we can bury her."
Luc's jaw sets, something violent flickering behind his eyes. "Want me to handle that?"
The words are flat. Matter-of-fact. Not a joke.
"Legally," I clarify. "We bury her legally."
His mouth curves, sharp and cold. "Your way." A pause. "For now."
The footage is going to be everywhere by tonight. Every news outlet will pick it up.
Luc pulls me to my feet, hands framing my face. Tight enough to make me focus. "Someone leaked footage to destroy you. Same play Armand ran. Same play Julien ran." His eyes go cold. Empty. The look that says violence is on the table. "You don't back down. You make them regret it."
"The footage is going to be brutal."
"So?" He doesn't flinch. "Armand violated you. Now someone else is. They should be ashamed. Not you." His thumb drags across my jaw, claiming. "Fight. Make them see what they did. Make them live with it."
My phone rings. Henry.
I take a breath, steady myself, and answer. "I'm here."
"Footage is publishing in less than an hour," Henry says without preamble. "We need a damage control strategy immediately. I'm looking into the leak source, but whoever did this was careful. The timing is too perfect to be coincidence."
"Patricia."
