How could a man who had worked so closely as part of their team double-cross her by ordering the deaths of her family? The question had no reasonable answer, but that’s what Anthony Curtis had done before running off with the Luis family.

“What are you hearing?” she asked. Cain’s car crossed Canal Street into the French Quarter, and it appeared Joe was right. They were headed to Vincent’s place.

“There’s some new players in town, and they’re looking to map the landscape. Once they do, they’ll stick a pin in it and declare it theirs.”

“Try to remember this isn’t a James Bond movie, and speak so we can all understand.” She laughed and was joined by their newest team member, Dylan Gardner. The blonde looked more like a surfer beach bum than an agent, but she was the replacement for Brent Cehan, who was serving a fifteen-year stretch at Angola State Penitentiary. He was still screaming about his innocence and how Cain set him up, but they’d all testified and corroborated Cain’s alibi.

“One of the snitches familiar with the situation—” Joe stopped talking as Cain and Emma got out of the car and stared at their vehicle as if they could see them sitting inside. “Someone is paying for information about the people we follow around all day, and plenty of it. If that’s true, your premonition might be right on the money. I mean, who pays for information unless they plan to use it for something?”

“Want to take Dylan inside?” she asked.

“You two go. You’re not going to get anything, but at least you’ll get a decent meal out of it. Vincent’s a killer, but the guy knows how to make a mean sauce.”

“Dylan, do you like Italian?” she asked, shaking her head at Joe again. “Call the guys assigned to Remi and Vinny, and see if they have something we don’t, Joe. They shouldn’t be hard to find since they’re probably parked right next to us.”

“All right, smartass. Get going and bring me a cannoli.”

“Let’s go, Gardner. It’s time to run with the big dogs.” She put her jacket on and headed to the restaurant where she found the Caseys still in the lobby greeting Vincent Carlotti. “Table for two please?” she said to the host.

“Are you having a nice evening, Ms. Phillips?” Cain asked as Emma took her hand. “It’s been a while, and I haven’t met your friend.”

“Wait, you don’t know who she is?” She was pushing it, but she did like to yank Cain’s thin leash every so often. “I’ll have to tell the boss you really don’t know everything.”