French Silk(112)

"Ah, well, I'm relieved," he said. He gave a breathy little laugh. "It's no secret to you that I hold Yasmine in the highest regard."

"No, it's no secret to me." Claire's teasing smile was soon replaced with another frown. "Maybe I've given her too much leeway. I think it's time we had another woman-to-woman talk."

"Please let me know if there's anything I can do. Anything at all."

"I will."

"Claire, you're … you're not angry with me? That matter with Mr. Cassidy—"

"Forget it, Andre. Please. You were unscrupulously tricked. As I've been," she added quietly. "Don't fret about it."

She assured him that it would take more than Cassidy's exploitation to affect their long-standing friendship. They agreed to have dinner together very soon. Shortly after saying goodbye and hanging up, she reached for the telephone again.

* * *

Cassidy sidled up to the undercover cop who'd been assigned to tail Joshua Wilde. As one stranger to another, he asked for a light.

"Didn't know you smoked," the cop said in a low, confidential voice. From his pocket he withdrew a lighter and flipped it open. It shot forth a blaze like a miniature flamethrower.

"I quit a couple of years ago," Cassidy said, choking on the smoke he inhaled.

"You taking it up again?"

"I just asked you for a light, okay? What else could I casually walk up and ask you for? A blow-job?"

The slender black man grinned. His long hair was pulled into a sleek queue at the back of his head and held there with a tight rubber band. He winked and gave Cassidy's shoulder a light squeeze. "I'm expensive. Can you afford me?"

Cassidy threw off the caress. "Fuck you."

"Oooh, sounds delicious, sweet thing." Obviously the young cop, whom Cassidy knew was as straight as a plumb line, was enjoying himself at his expense.

The guy was tall, slender, and good-looking, so he often worked the French Quarter in this cover. A study of insolence and nonchalance, he leaned against a gaslight post located across the street from The Gumbo Shop on St. Peter Street. Through the microphone hidden beneath the lapel of his flashy sharkskin suit, he'd reported to a central monitor that he'd tailed Josh to the popular restaurant. Cassidy, too keyed up to remain either in his downtown office or his stuffy, lonely apartment, had decided to participate actively in the surveillance.

"How long's he been in there?"

The cop checked the counterfeit Rolex on his wrist. "Thirty-two minutes."

"Is he having dinner?"

"Seems so."

Cassidy's eyes squinted against the smoke curling from between his lips. He peered through the blue-gray haze, trying to penetrate the windows of the restaurant. "How long does it take for a party of one to eat dinner?"

In character, the cop gave Cassidy an appraisal like a male prostitute sizing up a prospective client. Assuming the lilting lingo of his cover, he said, "Hey man, your ass is way too tight. If we're gonna have any fun, you gotta relax."

Cassidy shot him a baleful look and was about to move away when Josh appeared in the enclosed alley that served as the restaurant's entrance. Cassidy quickly turned his back and pretended to be shopping the T-shirts hanging in the doorway of the souvenir store. Taking glimpses of Josh over his shoulder, Cassidy could see that his jaw was set, his entire aspect angry.

"Uh-oh," the cop whispered. "Our man's good and pissed."

His mind was on what was going on behind him, but once again Cassidy pretended interest in a T-shirt with a ribald message spelled out in glittering letters. A smiling Asian clerk moved forward to give him a sales pitch. "No, thanks. Just looking."

"Might have known," the cop muttered. "Only a squeeze can get a man that pissed."

"A woman?" Cassidy glanced at the restaurant across the street, then whipped his head back around. "Fuck!" he exclaimed with soft but potent emphasis.

"Excuse?" the smiling Asian said.

The cop laughed beneath his breath.

The woman who had emerged from the restaurant with Josh didn't take notice of her surroundings. She said something to him, then turned and started walking down the sidewalk. Josh seemed on the verge of following her, but reconsidered and only glared at her retreating back. His long, musician's fingers flexed into fists. Then, with the bearing of an affronted prophet, he stalked off down the sidewalk in the opposite direction.

Cassidy tossed his cigarette into the gutter and bore down on the cop. "I thought you said he was alone."

"You're blowing my cover, man." He smiled and laid his hand on Cassidy's arm. Eyes smoldering, seductive grin in place, he cooed, "He was alone when he got here. He must've met her inside."

"You take him." Cassidy hitched his chin toward Josh, who had already reached the intersection with Royal Street.

"You going after the lady?"

"That's no lady," Cassidy said as he stepped off the curb and started across the street in pursuit. "That's Claire Laurent."





* * *



Chapter 23

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Claire drew up short when she rounded the corner and saw Cassidy standing at the door of French Silk. It was the first time she'd seen him since the morning he'd stormed from her bedroom at Rosesharon. Seeing him so unexpectedly caused a catch in her breath. Her heart jumped. But she kept her expression impassive and tried to appear unruffled as she approached him. "Hello, Cassidy."