a con man who’d fooled everyone, even his own family, had masked his crimes behind the persona of a successful financial adviser and businessman.
No wonder she didn’t trust Connor Randall.
She’d made up for the sins of her father by helping to bring in a couple of other most-wanted criminals. But then things had taken a bad turn. She didn’t like being glued at the hip to a man who represented everything she hated, but maybe that was the price she had to pay right now.
Since that art heist had also involved the infamous Mafia lord, everyone at the New Orleans division of the FBI had been on the alert. Connor Randall had been there that night in the dank, dark wine cellar of an old mansion in the Quarter. And he had shot and killed Frederick Cordello, the man who’d wanted the princess dead so he could take the priceless Benoit paintings he’d believed she had.
Ironically, Louis Armond, allegedly a millionaire con man himself who mostly dealt in fake designer purses and shoes and illegal sales of priceless art, had proof that the paintings belonged to him. But after the ensuing publicity and scandal behind the whole affair, Armond had decided to take the high road to stoke some of the heat. He’d sent the paintings off on a museum art tour and then he’d become a very important witness for the FBI. A reluctant secret witness who had yet to give them anything of significance.
“You need to come back to New Orleans,” she said now, her gaze scanning the street behind her.
“No can do.”
Anything could happen with Randall. Nice to look at but hard to read. She hadn’t managed to get a bead on the real Connor Randall. Yet. But she couldn’t leave him hanging. Armond wouldn’t have any qualms about either shooting Connor or pinning the blame on him. Or worse, persuading Connor to turn. If he hadn’t already.
She worked her own persuasion. “Louis Armond agreed to immunity in exchange for information, remember?”
“I took that into consideration when he scrambled into my car and held a gun on me. I can’t come back to the city right now. Too hot. I found him...right after it happened, holding a weapon.”
He lowered his voice. “Whoever did this sure scared the man. I’m his last hope and he’s my only hope. If I don’t help him cover this up, he’ll kill me and be done with it.”
“Well, that sure makes this more understandable,” she said on a sarcastic note. Then she regretted that note. She’d learned not to take anything for granted, not even an informant who grated on her last nerve. Heading northwest out of town, she decided to play along. “Tell me what you need.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, this is bad, but it’s a chance to...get you inside his world.”
Good point. That way, she could keep an eye on both of them and maybe convince Armond to cooperate.
“But what if this is a setup?” she asked, her mind moving through several scenarios. “Maybe he’s luring you out so he can kill you. I mean, has he told you the big secret he wanted to share?”
“Not yet.” She heard a chuckle. “As for him killing me, yes, he could do that. I’ve already considered that angle, but right now he’s in no shape to kill anyone. He says he didn’t kill his mistress and I believe him. I think a sniper made this hit. He thinks they’re onto him and that they’ll come after anyone associated with him, including me.
“He’s so scared he might be willing to save us a lot of trouble by cutting an even better deal.” He went silent for a second or two. “Armond isn’t the kind to scare easily, so I’d say we’re onto something big here. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now I’m not at liberty to walk away.”
Josie read between the lines. The man had him right where he wanted him. Connor could testify against Armond, and if he told the truth—that he’d seen the man holding a gun over a woman lying on the street—things could go bad for Armond. But if Connor could be persuaded to put a different spin on that story...well...he might get to live.
Right. She’d never known a Mafia boss to have a change of heart unless he thought there was something in it for him. This could get messy. Connor could turn back to the dark side to save his own hide.
“Where are you now?” she asked. She had the car out on the street, moving.
“We just arrived at his estate on the Old River Road. It’s like a fortress, so he should be safe here for a while. I’m not sure how safe.”
He gave her the address and some directions, but Josie was pretty sure this place wasn’t on any map.
“Okay, got it. On my way.”
“Oh, and by the way, we have to make him believe you will help us clean up this mess. If he asks, and trust me, he will, you have to be prepared to make this go away.”
Connor ended the call before she had a chance to burst out laughing. Or protest.
Wondering why she hadn’t become a teacher like her mother had suggested, Josie quickly called Special Agent in Charge Joseph Sherwood and explained what Connor had told her. “I’d like to go in alone and undercover for now, sir.”
After a long silence, the older man said, “You can go in alone, but I’ll have a team on standby in case you get into trouble. We’ve worked too hard to bring Armond in to let anything go wrong now.”
There was another slight pause and then he added, “Meantime, let me know if you need any backstopping. I’ll get the techs involved and I’ll work with the locals on the shooting.”
“Yes, sir.” If he was willing to set up an undercover background for her, Sherwood must understand the magnitude of this mission. She might be in this for days, possibly weeks.
She’d go out to the Armond compound and get Armond and Connor to safety. That is, if someone else didn’t beat her to the place and do harm to both of them.
TWO
Josie checked her rearview mirror several times to make sure she wasn’t being followed. Normal Saturday-night traffic streamed along the interstate.
She bumped up her speed, her pulse zooming along with the vehicle’s high speed. Why was she so worried anyway? Connor could handle himself. He knew all the tricks of survival.
But...Connor Randall was almost legendary around the bureau, so maybe Armond considered him more valuable alive than dead right now. If anyone could charm a snake, it’d be Connor Randall. She didn’t want to think about how he could turn a woman’s head, too.
She hadn’t decided if the debonair Mr. Randall had finally mended his ways or if he was just working on one last big con. They’d had several conversations, or as Connor liked to call them—interrogations. She asked questions, and he either answered with a cool disregard or said nothing at all. She’d pulled him in earlier today to get a better handle on tonight’s mission, and the man had waltzed in wearing a custom-made tuxedo and a custom-made smile.
Get that out of your head, she told herself. So he was handsome and debonair and...still a criminal in her mind.
She only wanted to get Armond and him out alive and make sure Armond lived up to his side of this bargain. Her career needed
