Page 44 of Unlock My Heart

“This is Fabien.”

“Did some digging,” Detective Pierre says by way of greeting. “You were right about your Hotel D’Amico friend. Federal Agent Benjamin Ringer.”

“Ringer? Don’t trust him already. What’s he doing in NOLA?” The feds’ Louisiana field office is in Baton Rouge, and palms are greased so they stay out of our business.

“Ringer met with the Chief as a ‘courtesy.’ Hasn’t been announced publicly yet, but the feds are opening a field office in NOLA.”

“What?” My jaw ticks.

“That was our reaction. Anyway, Ringer made sure to let everyone know he’s the Special Agent in Charge.”

I curse quietly. “Is this Ringer by the books?”

“Nobody knows. Ringer comes to us by way of Dallas; the fed’s got nearly twenty-five years in, so he should be close to retirement. From what I’ve seen of him, he’s a shifty motherfucker. Do with that what you will.”

Shifty. I can work with that.

“Thanks, man. Keep your ear to the ground for me.”

“Will do.”

The call ends, and immediately, another incoming call flashes. My nosy-ass cousin.

“What’s up?” I answer.

“You gonna leave me hanging like this?” Nic cries.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Nic’s voice rises several octaves. “You don’t know the shitstorm you’ve kicked up?”

“Nope,” I say, popping the p.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Nic shouts. “You and Michele get into a pissing contest, you pull a gun on him⁠—”

“That’s being a little dramatic.” Yeah, I pulled my gun, but Michele wasn’t within range.

“And now he’s on a fucking rampage. And guess who had to deal with his bad attitude while you’ve been conveniently MIA? Oh, and that’s after I had to play food delivery boy and go to that dump of a motel—risking life and limb to get your girl’s stuff.”

“You’re a saint,” I tell my cousin.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters. “Is she worth it?”

Sienna exits the building, her attention landing on me. The biggest smile stretches across her face. She’s so damn beautiful, the wind’s knocked out of my lungs.

“Yes,” I breathe.

Nic whistles. “Somebody’s down bad.”

Yeah, somebody is.

Giving my head a little shake, I tell my cousin, “I’m sending you a picture of Benjamin Ringer⁠—”

“Ringer. Don’t trust him already.”

“What I said.” I forward Nic the photo. “He’s the fed that’s been lurking at the hotel lounge. Let me know if you spot him; I’d like to introduce myself.” Lest this fucker think he has the upper hand.

Sienna throws her arms around me.