Broken crusade, p.27
Lord of the Bayou, page 27
“My dear Rebecca, judging by the empty bottles of wine in the wastebasket, you will need assistance just delivering your refuse to the curb.”
Embarrassed, Rebecca snapped, “Those weren’t all mine—I had a party.”
“Indeed. And what a party it must have been.” Robert took another bite of omelet.
Rebecca did not appreciate his sarcasm. She pressed for his story. “You were saying you are David’s twin.”
“Ah yes. David and I are twins. Our mother, Emily, who I never knew, had an older sister, Gwen. Gwen and her husband, Charles, who I lovingly refer to as my mother and father, were infertile. When Emily discovered that she carried twins, she and our father, Carter, made an enormous sacrifice and decided to allow Gwen and Charles to adopt me. I was raised in England and lived there and in France my entire life. It wasn’t until Emily and Carter were murdered that I learned of the truth of my biological parents and that I had a brother. Quite the scuttlebutt ensued. You see, Gwen and Charles wanted David to come live with us, but Carter’s instructions were explicit concerning David’s future. My life had been kept a secret because Carter knew the dangers of the family business. They believed, if they all were to perish, that through me, the LaRoux bloodline would remain safe. My entire existence is one of the family’s greatest secrets.”
Rebecca stared at Robert as she slowly chewed her first bite. “Robert, you’ll have to forgive me if I seem skeptical. Naturally, any documentation you could provide proving any of this would be greatly appreciated.” She turned her attention to her food and took another bite. “This is quite delicious,” she said.
“I promise you, Rebecca, I am completely prepared to provide whatever documentation you, or anyone else, might require. I am quite certain my appearance in New Orleans will be scandalous to say the least.”
“New Orleans?” Rebecca startled as if she had been shocked.
“Yes. As per David’s instructions, I am to make sure your business in New Orleans goes smoothly.”
Rebecca set her fork on her plate and stared at the man before her. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to see the dispersion of David’s estate?”
Robert chuckled. “Oh heavens no, dear.” He cocked his head to the side. “Is this the root of your attitude? I’m not here for one pound of my family’s estate. After our parents passed, David shared his abundant family wealth equally. I have enjoyed wealth beyond our means, thanks to my biological parents and brother. What David left behind is truly yours. I am merely here to lend my support until you are comfortable with your assets.”
Rebecca looked around the room. “I am quite comfortable with my assets already.”
Robert smiled again as he looked at a half-empty bottle of wine on the end table across the room. “Indeed.”
Rebecca followed his gaze until she found the source of his sarcasm. Looking back, she was greeted by that damned crooked smile. “What’s wrong with your smile? Did you break your jaw or something?”
“Yes. Apparently, David was quite the rambunctious wombmate. As a result, I was born with a dislodged jaw.”
“With all that LaRoux money, I’d think you might want to get it fixed.”
“Most women have said they find it rather charming, rather like Harrison Ford’s smile.” Robert’s attitude was playfully light as he covered his lips. “Heavens, do you suppose those women were lying to get at my money?”
“I’m sorry, Robert. I hope you understand how hard it is for me to sit across from the ghost of my husband.”
“Oh, I understand completely. It is not so different from my beleaguered situation. Thanks to David, I had the privilege of knowing you well before you knew me. You see, I had already seen the beauty that made my brother swoon, and I know in time I will suffer your charms as well. My brother’s taste for love is not unlike my own. And that, my dear Rebecca, may prove to be a tragedy of an altogether different sort.”
CHAPTER 25
THE SHORT FLIGHT BACK to New Orleans proved much less stressful than the limo ride into the city. As Robert recounted tales of growing up in London and his travels through France, Rebecca probed for a nick in his story. He claimed many things, including that he was a barrister of sorts. He told Rebecca that he was prepared to offer legal counsel to her in regards to CCI and the DEA. Not only did he want to help her, but he was charming, polite, and humorous. Despite these positive attributes, she resented his remarkable physical characteristics. For all practical purposes, she had spent the last three days with an understudy version of David LaRoux. It was downright cruel to suffer the company of a man so amazingly like her lost love.
As downtown New Orleans appeared, Rebecca’s stomach knotted, and Robert grew uncharacteristically quiet. The silence riled her internal storm, so she grasped for a thread of conversation. “I never realized you could get such a great tan in England.”
“When I learned of my brother’s death, I flew to America via Miami, with the intention of coming to my brother’s funeral. But then I considered how much consternation my sudden appearance would create, how it might be disruptive to his memorial and his friends, and especially you. So, much against my personal desire, I stayed in Miami. Once I learned you were headed to Florida, I decided to give you a few days to settle in.”
Rebecca digested his explanation without reply. She had asked Walt to assemble David’s inner circle at the plantation. Preferring to temporarily distance herself from the business side of her empire, she thought the mansion would be the best setting to address the crew, yet it would be one of her biggest emotional hurdles. Although it was not completely clear at this point, she wanted to define her expectations and introduce Robert LaRoux to David’s people.
After crossing the Mississippi and what seemed like not nearly enough time, the limo turned onto the familiar oyster-shell- and twisted-oak-lined drive. As the mansion came into view, Rebecca cried. She grabbed Robert’s forearm and sniffled, “Oh God. I don’t think I can do this.”
“There, there, Rebecca.” Robert patted her hand. “You can do this, you’ll see. I’ll be there as David’s spokesperson and your shoulder to lean on if needed.”
Minutes later, as Rebecca climbed the spiral, marble steps, memories of the effort it took to climb them in her ball gown replayed in her mind. Then at the door, an employee greeted her and Robert with a look of utter bewilderment, and though he was unable to keep his eyes from dancing with questions, he ushered them to David’s second-floor office. There, Rebecca and Robert found Ryan, Taz, and Walt mired in a jovial conversation.
Ryan was the only one facing the door and reacted to Robert immediately. “David? What the hell?” Taz and Walt spun around instantly, and their jaws dropped.
Rebecca was prepared for the kneejerk reaction and fully expected it would diffuse whatever strategy the three had concocted. “No,” she relied forcefully. “This is David’s twin brother, Robert. I assume you have heard mention of a brother.”
Walt was the first to approach, followed by Ryan and Taz. “We have, although David never said he was a twin.”
“We were told many years ago,” Ryan began, “as a matter of knowledge not to be shared or discussed.” Ryan stepped around Walt to improve his inspection.
“Robert LaRoux,” Robert said as he extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet all of you.”
As Rebecca began explaining Robert’s sudden appearance and her future plans, David’s crew surprisingly appeared to settle in without objections. Their grand inquisition of Robert was not unlike Rebecca’s archeological dig into his past. Patient and courteous, Robert explained every detail until David’s crew had exhausted their interrogation.
“Gentlemen, I must say that I am not accustomed to being on this side of the witness stand, mind you, twice now in a single week,” said Robert, who explained he practiced law in his native country. “I appreciate your diligence, and I am confident that once I have returned to England, Rebecca will be in the best of hands.”
“She will,” Taz proclaimed. Uncharacteristically quiet throughout much of the visit, he was ready to make his opinion known, loud and proud. He turned to Rebecca and added, “There won’t be any more of David’s cowboy nonsense. That’s what got him killed. We’re gonna take care of you and the baby.”
“So, what are your immediate plans?” Ryan asked Rebecca.
“Robert and I, and hopefully one of you, are going to pay a visit to the DEA office. I need to formally resign and explain Robert’s presence. We wouldn’t want Will Martin to get a murder pass because everyone thinks David is still alive, would we?”
“Hell no,” Ryan agreed. “If you don’t mind, I think we’d all like to tag along.”
“I’d like that,” Rebecca said with a smile.
***
The hush that fell over the office was unnerving. Rebecca walked with a purpose, not slowing for the gawking eyes or whispers that surely were about to commence. Robert trailed in a more casual manner, sipping at his coffee and smiling cordially as he passed through the sea of astonished agents. Without knocking, Rebecca blew into Director Cutchins’s office like a spring thunderstorm. Her fury quickly dissipated when she discovered Will Martin seated against the wall. He was sorting through documents.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Rebecca scolded.
Cutchins got an eyeful of Robert LaRoux. “Who the hell is this?”
“Jesus, Rebecca, are you fucking kidding me?” Martin chimed.
It took several seconds for Rebecca to regain her composure. Once she felt her heartbeat slow down, she began to explain. “This is my attorney, Robert LaRoux. He is David’s brother.”
“Brother my ass,” Martin exclaimed as he surged forward. “Do you know how many weeks I’ve spent in your shitty jails, thanks to your corrupt judges, you miserable son of a bitch?” Just as Martin began to reach for Robert’s collar, Robert fired a jab into his throat and dropped him to the floor. Director Cutchins opened his desk drawer and reached for his gun. Robert threw his hands up and bellowed, “That man just assaulted me. And if you are considering to further threaten my safety, I will be forced to press charges.”
The fracas drew the attention of the entire squad room, with numerous agents beginning to swarm toward the director’s office. Martin remained on his knees, gasping for breath while Cutchins hesitantly closed his drawer. Robert moved away from Martin and approached the director. “I insist that you remove that man from your office immediately. He is a criminal and a detriment to the nature of our business today.”
Seething, Martin looked at the director for support. But Cutchins nodded, signaling for Martin to leave the office. Rebecca watched as her former boyfriend gathered his documents.
She ascertained they all concerned the case against David. As Martin began to depart, he cut a malicious glare at Rebecca, and remaining outside of Robert LaRoux’s striking distance, he struggled to growl, “This isn’t over, LaRoux.”
Once Martin was gone, Robert closed the door. “I’m truly sorry about my behavior, Director Cutchins. But given William Martins’s history of aggravated assault against my brother, and his slanderous accusations against my family enterprise, I am sure you will understand my fearful reaction.”
Cutchins nodded as he studied Robert’s mannerisms.
“May we sit?”
Again, Cutchins nodded.
Robert pulled a second chair to Cutchins’s desk and waited for Rebecca to sit before he did. Now in a chair, he opened his satchel and cleared his throat. “As I will be acting as counsel on Mrs. LaRoux’s behalf, and representing my brother’s estate, I have prepared several documents for your department. The first and most critical document, which I assure you has been properly filed, is a restraining order to keep that animal,” Robert said, pointing toward the squad room, “away from Mrs. LaRoux, CCI employees, and all properties and business interests.” He handed over the small stack of documents. “I trust that you will make sure he is duly warned. As to his violent nature, if he trespasses or violates any of these orders, our security forces have been instructed to apply appropriate measures to protect our people.”
Cutchins placed the documents on his desk without as much as a glimpse.
“Secondly, although we have no obligation at this time to divulge this information, here is a video we have obtained of William Martin assaulting my brother when he was in Martin’s custody.” As Robert placed the thumb drive on Cutchins’s desk, the director cut his eyes to the device before returning his blank stare to Robert. “I believe it will be in the DEA’s best interest to distance yourselves from William Martin. After you have viewed the video, I think you will agree. Next packet is Rebecca LaRoux’s official letter of resignation, along with a complete debriefing concerning her opinions and observations concerning this case. Any further request for information should be directed to me. I trust after you have examined it, you will restore all monies and benefits lawfully due.” Again, Cutchins ignored the documents as they were placed on his desk.
“Finally, as I know there may be some suspicion concerning my appearance, I have included enough documentation to verify my identity.” Robert placed the last folder down. “I will remain in New Orleans until William Martin has been convicted and is safely incarcerated. You will find sufficient contact information inside the folder, if you should have any need to speak with Mrs. LaRoux. And now, unless you have any further business to discuss, I think this should conclude our interview.”
Cutchins sneered at Rebecca, who returned the courtesy. His list of interrogation questions seemed somewhat pointless as Rebecca’s resignation eliminated any leverage he once held. “I’ll be in touch.” Considering the mountain of paperwork before him, that was the best counter he could manage.
Robert set down his coffee cup on Cutchins’s desk and turned to leave. “Former Agent Martin is a disgrace to all law enforcement. In the future, I certainly hope you will make better choices of the people you allow in your service. Good day, sir.”
As Rebecca passed Martin, she noticed that practically any evidence of his once devilish charm had vanished. The man had finally received his just rewards. Once out on the sidewalk, she turned to Robert and hugged him. “Thank you for taking care of that for me.”
“Anything less would be a disservice to my brother’s name.”
***
Martin barged back into Cutchins’s office. “I can’t believe you allowed that cocksucker to walk right out of the office, especially after he assaulted me. That is fucking David LaRoux!”
Cutchins stared at Martin, his anger tempered by years of experience. “What would you have me do, Will? Waterboard him right here in my office until he confessed? The man has handed over a stack of documents that I need to examine before I do a damn thing. I, for one, have seen more than enough results from half-cocked vendetta-driven investigations. If there is a play to be made, it will be a slam dunk before I lace up my sneakers. But enough of my investigation, let’s talk about you.”
Martin appeared befuddled as Cutchins thumbed through the stack of paperwork Robert LaRoux had deposited. Cutchins pulled the thumb drive from the first envelope, then he placed it on the desk and tapped it with his finger. “The day you arrested LaRoux—would you care to revise your version of the scuffle?”
Martin looked at the thumb drive and hesitated. “Let me guess—a video has surfaced. Ain’t that a big fucking surprise? Yeah, it might appear that I put a beatdown on him in the streets, but he assaulted me in the car. That fucker must have set that up as well.”
Cutchins sighed. “In the event that this recording, or any other that might surface, reveals contradictory evidence, I need to know all of the details, minus the bullshit.”
Martin gritted his teeth. “He disrespected Agent Pearson and myself. He threatened her life.”
“You dragged a handcuffed man from your car and beat him over verbal threats and insults?” Cutchins was no longer able to hide his wrath. “Will, go home before I have you arrested.”
“Wait just a fu—”
“No, Will. You’re done.” Cutchins waved a stack of documents in front of Martin’s face. “Additionally, Robert LaRoux has acquired restraining orders—against you. You are not to approach Rebecca LaRoux, or LaRoux’s employees, or trespass on any of their property.” Cutchins slammed the paperwork on his desk. “I have consented to allow LaRoux’s people to shoot you should you violate the terms of these orders. Understand? Now, go park your ass on the bench out there. I will have Lorraine bring you a copy of the orders.”
Martin stared at Cutchins with utter contempt. Cutchins stood with his white-knuckled fist pressed firmly into the desk. “Now would be the time to get the hell out of my sight.”
As Martin stormed from the office, Cutchins punched the intercom on his desk. “Lorraine, send Truman in. And have him bring an evidence bag, please.”
Cutchins stared out into the squad room, wishing he had gone fishing today. Three more years of this shit, he mused. Truman entered, interrupting his thoughts. Cutchins carefully extracted the restraining orders from the envelope. “Bag that coffee cup and this envelope. I want prints and DNA.” He handed Truman the court orders. “Have Lorraine make copies of these, then give a set to Martin. Then please get that dipshit out of my sight.”
CHAPTER 26
“YOU HANDLE THE BOAT quite well,” Rebecca remarked as Robert navigated through the river.
Turning abruptly up a narrow stream, he quickly killed the motor and the Chris-Craft slowed to a drift, its wake swamping up behind the boat. As the water settled, Robert turned to Rebecca. “I own a boat in the British Virgin Islands. Not as nice as this, mind you, but it serves the purpose.”
“I’d like to go there one day,” Rebecca smiled.
