The bartender surveyed me from the door.“Like he’d let an ex-cop take him out.”She laughed and left the office, and I turned toward the goon who’d stripped me of myweapons.
He glared in my direction.“I’ll kill you.Don’t fucking care who you are.Don’t make me do it.I hate going toconfession.”
I couldn’t imagine what this man’s priest had heard, but that wasn’t my problem.“I’m not here to cause trouble.I just want information, and I’m willing to tradeforit.”
“Don’t know why he agreed to see you, but you step out of line and you’ll be going out thebackdoor.”
“Got it.Dead.Check.We good now?”My tone was annoyed.I’d been in enough tough situations over the years that I wasn’t about to let this guyrattleme.
“You got brass balls.”As soon as he said the words, the bookcase slid open and revealed a set of stairs.“Followme.”
He plodded up the dimly lit stairs like a mule, and it took all the patience I had not to hurry him up.At the top was a wood-paneled hallway with multiple doors, all closed.Brass sconces lined the walls with bulbs flickering like gaslights, casting shadows across the old woodenfloor.
The man led me toward the last door, his pace like molasses, at best.Was he under orders from Mount to move this frigging slow?I had towonder.
When we reached the door at the end of the hall, he pushed it open to reveal a library.Floor-to-ceiling shelves covered almost every inch of the walls, overflowing with books.Two empty chairs sat in front of an emptyfireplace.
NoMount.
While I was surveying the room, my escort triggered yet another hidden door and led me behind the fireplace.I followed him through a maze of rooms, stairs, and secret doors until I stepped into another room carrying the scent of cigar smoke andleather.
The man himself sat behind a massive wooden desk, but this room was totally different from the others.A glass ceiling supported by an intricate design of oxidized copper let in shafts of light from outdoors.The walls were white.No decoration.Two chairs sat in front of the desk, and I wondered how many missing men had sat there before they were never seenagain.
It wasn’t what I expected, but for some reason, it was completely fitting for the self-proclaimed king of NewOrleans.
“Detective Hennessy.Although that’s not right.It’s Mr.Hennessy now.”His rough, deep voice delivered the dig withprecision.
“That’s right.No badge.Nogun.”
Mount nodded at the goon behind me.“You can wait outside, Z.”The door opened and closed on silent hinges, and when we were alone, he nodded toward one of the leather chairs in front of hisdesk.“Sit.”
I didn’t take commands well, but I wasn’t going to fuck up my one shot at getting the information I needed from the only person who might be able to get it for me.SoIsat.
Mount leaned back in his chair, already looking bored.“What the hell doyouwant?”
Straight to the point.I couldhandlethat.
“Information about the cartel.Who’s running what in this town.Who the fuck blew up my parents’ house.Who targeted an ex-cop lastnight.”
One of Mount’s dark eyebrows rose, and he cut through what I delivered to stab at the heart of the matter.“So sure it wasn’t your father whodidit?”
His question confirmed that he really did know what was going on inthistown.
“Hewouldn’t.”
“Youthink.”
“Iknow.”
Mount reached for the cigar smoldering in the ashtray and lifted it to his lips to take a puff before replying.“And if I had the information you wanted or could get it, why would I give ittoyou?”
“Because I can give youclosure.”
His hand barely paused as he returned the cigar to its previous position.“Explain yourself.”His gaze narrowed on me, and I hoped I’d tapped into hiscuriosity.
“Your mother abandoned you, according to the rumors.Don’t you want to know what reallyhappened?”
His nostrils flared with the first sign of emotion.“I wouldn’t waste a dime to find out what happened to thatbitch.”