Big Easy Temptation (The Perfect Gentlemen #3)(107)

“Yeah, not so much since what happened a few weeks back,” Lara admitted. “I’ve decided that fighting for one’s life is a natural response. Not that I brought a weapon. I’m really bad with guns, so if the bullets start flying, I’m supposed to hide behind Connor.”

“You will keep your head down and wait for my instructions,” Connor reinforced in a low voice.

Lara rolled her eyes. “He’s so bossy.”

And it was obvious she loved him that way. She tangled her fingers with Connor’s, of course on his left side. His firing hand had to be free.

Holland holstered her weapon, and Dax relaxed a little when she stepped beside him. “It’s going to be okay. Whoever is on our tail . . . we need to figure out how they tracked us down. I’m fairly certain we weren’t followed earlier.”

Dax bet he knew. “Someone was watching my mother’s house. I tried to get in and out without being seen, but if anyone was watching closely, they could have seen me and followed me back. I thought Freddy had traps.”

“It’s a lot of ground to cover and we haven’t had time to set up cameras,” Connor admitted. “Again, this is where an urban environment would help.”

They made it to the front door. “We’ll call Freddy when we get a cell signal again. We tell him to clear out and we won’t go back.”

“We head straight for D.C.,” Connor agreed. “It’s time to get out of New Orleans.”

He knocked on Morgan’s front door before Holland could put in her two cents. He was fairly certain he would get an earful about her job with NCIS and that New Orleans was her home. Screw that. Dax intended to be ruthless this time. He would use the whole presidential-task-force thing to keep her by his side. Just because one part of the case was over didn’t mean she got to quit. Uncovering all the pieces and players could take a while. They needed to go to London. He would use that, too. He would keep her close and before she knew it she would find herself with a ring on her finger.

Maybe he should get her a little drunk. Hell, it had worked on him.

A quiet fell around them as they waited. Not silence. There was never silence on the bayou, but he could still hear the floorboards creak as the man inside the house moved.

The door opened and a weary face looked out from behind the screen. Peter Morgan was dressed in his pajamas and a robe, glasses sitting on his face. He’d aged ten years in the three since Dax had seen him last. He’d lost weight. That kind of gauntness bespoke disease.

“I always wondered if you would find me, Captain.”

He didn’t need to kill Peter Morgan. It looked like life was doing a good job of that. “I have some questions.”

Morgan hesitated but then finally nodded. “Of course. Come in. You’ll have to excuse the place. It’s not what you’re used to, of course. Mr. Sparks, I presume. And Ms. Kirk.” He looked Lara’s way. “I’m sorry, dear, I don’t know what part you play in this game.”

Connor’s bride smiled as though she was being invited in for tea. “Lara Sparks. I’m married to the big guy who will not be torturing you this evening. Consider me an investigative journalist.”

“Ah, they brought a weak link. I was hoping for one.” Morgan shut the door behind them.

“Lara’s not weak,” Dax shot back. He glanced around the room. Despite its dilapidated nature, it was neat and tidy. Austere. Morgan wasn’t one for knickknacks. There was a sofa and lounge chair, two bookshelves, and a few lamps. He didn’t see a television, but a neat stack of newspapers and magazines took up a corner of the small dining room table.

“I didn’t mean that in a moral or physical sense,” Morgan clarified, gesturing for them to sit. “I meant I can appeal to her softer sensibilities in a way I cannot with you. You blame me for what happened to your father. Ms. Kirk is law enforcement. She won’t see past justice to compassion, and Sparks . . . well, from what I know, you have no compassion.”

“None.” Connor’s smile would have made anyone squirm.

Lara frowned as she sat down on the couch. “He does. But we’re not here to hurt you. We simply have a few questions.”

Connor walked around the room, his eyes seeking the corners. “Many questions.”

“I’m not a threat, Mr. Sparks,” Morgan said wearily, sinking onto the lounge chair. “There are no traps. I never was a violent man. I always thought it amusing I ended up in the Navy. After I left Admiral Spencer’s command, I found work in intelligence. I was much happier there. It was a good fit for me. I was safe there, too.”

It didn’t look like anyone nefarious would jump out and murder them, but Dax was on guard anyway. He didn’t like the slow way Connor was prowling around the cabin. Something had his friend on high alert, and he trusted Connor’s gut.

The faster they got what they needed, the better.

“Why do you need to be safe?” Dax asked.

Morgan sat back. “Because of what I did. I assume you’re here because you’ve finally figured out what I did to your father.”

Holland had her cop face on. She pressed a button on her phone and set it down on the coffee table. “I’m going to tape this interview, if you don’t mind.”

Morgan waved a hand. “Only if the sweet one promises to look in on my mother from time to time. The nursing home is all right, but they don’t always change her sheets regularly. I pay extra to ensure her comfort.”