Cajun Justice(104)

New Orleans was celebrating Mardi Gras, and the French Quarter was bursting at the seams with excitement. More than a million visitors had gathered near Café du Monde, Cain’s favorite place to relax and enjoy coffee and beignets. The rowdy tourists lined Decatur Street, hooting and hollering as masked kings and queens threw beads and doubloons from atop ornate purple, green, and yellow floats.

Cain sat under one of the café’s rotating wooden ceiling fans, sipping his chicory coffee from a white mug and wiping the beignets’ powdered sugar off his lips. He loved the Big Easy’s energy during this special time of year. He double-checked the time. I have time for another round of coffee, he told himself. He pulled out his copy of the Times-Picayune newspaper. The news was predominantly about sports, Louisiana politics, and Mardi Gras, but a headline caught his attention: a story reprinted from USA Today by none other than Champ Albright the Third.

Cain was snickering as he read Champ’s story but was interrupted by the buzzing cell phone in his shirt pocket.

“Hello?”

“Hi, twin brother.”

“You gotta talk much louder,” Cain shouted into his phone. “It’s a wonderful madhouse down here. I wish you could have joined me.”

“Me, too! Are you at Café du Monde?”

“You know it, sis.”

“I don’t know anyone who loves that chicory coffee as much as you and Pops,” Bonnie said. “By the way, have you checked out today’s paper? Our old friend Cat has a big story. Looks like Japanese prosecutors have indicted seven senior-level yakuza members and seized over ten of their businesses—including the Angel Cloud and Hakugei.”

“Hooyah!” Cain said. “That is how you take down an enterprise. You gotta hit ’em where it hurts: in their pocketbook. We can thank LeRoy for sending that information that helped track their assets.”

“No, we can thank you. None of this would have ever happened if you were not in the equation.”

“You’re just biased, sis.”

“Maybe. You are my favorite twin. That’s why I did something special for you.”

“Oh, no.” Cain feigned worry. “I’m afraid to ask. What did you do this time?”

“Relax,” Bonnie said. “You’ll like this one. It should be arriving any minute now.”

“Thank you, sis. I’ll call as soon as I get it.” He placed his phone back in his pocket and took a few more swigs of his coffee. To his left, the Mardi Gras parade was crawling through the French Quarter. He took a break from the spectacle and turned to the right. He looked at the boats cruising the Mississippi River. It was a sight that always calmed him and connected him to his South Louisiana roots.

“Is this seat taken?”

Her voice was faint, but he would have recognized it anywhere in the world. He turned to face her. It was Umiko.

Cain was shocked but stood and embraced her. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve always wanted to see Mardi Gras,” she said with that disarming smile. “Plus, you promised me beignets.”

“That I did, Umi.” Cain smiled wide. “That I did.”