“We’re here,” the short guy said. Nolan opened the rear car door and Arthur and the short man got out. They were parked beneath a green-striped awning in front of a separate entrance into the Pot-of-Gold Resort Casino, the flagship of DeMarco’s gambling domain.
In Louisiana, gaming was allowed only on riverboats, which were permanently docked on the water, in this case the muddy Red River that slugged through Shreveport heading south.
“Get going,” the man with the black hair said, shoving him forward, enjoying it. “Boss doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Nolan pushed the button on the elevator and it began its ascent to DeMarco’s penthouse apartment on the top floor of the club. Arthur wished he had remembered to grab his suit coat as he’d walked out the door. He looked wrinkled and tired after the long drive from Dallas. He hated being at a disadvantage.
DeMarco was waiting when the doors slid open and he stepped into the black-and-white marble entry beneath a huge crystal chandelier. Everything in the penthouse was overdone. Gold and scarlet, white gilded furniture, imitation Greek statues. It reeked of DeMarco’s lower-class beginnings, Arthur thought.
“You want a drink?” The words rasped out in DeMarco’s smoker’s voice. He took a sip of the expensive scotch he favored, making the ice clink in his glass. He was several inches shorter than Arthur, built like a linebacker, with broad shoulders and a thick barrel chest. He had dark brown hair that always needed trimming, black eyes, and a bad complexion. Sawyer DeMarco was not a handsome man.
“Club soda,” Arthur said. Getting drunk was not an option.
“Take care of it, Eddie.” The black-haired guy headed for the built-in bar, his lips pressed together. Clearly, he didn’t like menial tasks.
Eddie returned and handed him the heavy crystal glass. Arthur took a sip, concentrating so his hand wouldn’t shake.
“Leave us,” DeMarco said, abruptly sending his two henchmen away. He turned back to Arthur. “I hear you’re having some problems.” DeMarco sipped his scotch.
Arthur said nothing. DeMarco was behind his son’s murder. He knew it, had received DeMarco’s message loud and clear. And the man wouldn’t hesitate to kill again.
“You don’t have the money to pay me back, right?”
“Not at this time, but I assure you—”
“Oh, you’re going to pay me. We both know that. Unfortunately, you owe me interest as well as principal.”
Arthur said nothing, the gruff voice grating on his nerves.
Both still standing, DeMarco wandered casually closer. “Here’s the thing. With all the competition from the Indian casinos that have opened in Oklahoma, business is down. We need to expand. We want to locate on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain and also in the northeast region of Louisiana.”
DeMarco took another sip of scotch. “Your son, Daniel, is one of the most influential legislators in Louisiana. Daniel Haines comes out in favor of our proposals, we’ll get the approvals we need.”
“I’ll pay you back,” Arthur said. “I just need a little more time. I’ll pay what I owe plus interest.”
“Oh, I know you will.” He patted Arthur on the shoulder hard enough to spill club soda over the rim of his glass. “And I’m going to help you. I’m going to get you that oil rig you’ve been trying to steal.”
A ripple of fear moved down Arthur’s spine. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“The Poseidon. You don’t think I know what you’ve been up to? When I want something, Arthur, I go after it. I get it by whatever means necessary. I need your son’s support and you need that drilling platform. So I’m going to get it for you.”
Arthur opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
DeMarco just smiled. “I’m going to do what you failed to accomplish. I’m going to force Garrett Resources to pull out of the deal. You’re going to buy the rig and get your company back on track so you can pay me the money you owe and move your business forward. In return, you’re going to get Daniel to do exactly what I ask.”
Arthur’s heart was thudding, his mind spinning, fighting to stay in control.
“Daniel’s support is the interest payment you owe. I’ll even throw in the photos of you and the hooker who tied you up and beat your bare ass with a whip. Does that seem fair?”
His face flushed. He ran his tongue over his dry lips. “It seems fair.”
“Good, because if you don’t convince Daniel to support our proposals, I’m going to have to find a way to convince him myself. Since you’ve already lost one son, I don’t imagine you want to lose another. Or anyone else in your family.”
Arthur felt a wave of nausea as he stared into DeMarco’s cold black eyes. Then the door opened and Nolan and Eddie walked back into the room.
“Get him out of here,” DeMarco said.
In that instant, Arthur was actually glad to see them.
TWENTY-TWO
Kenzie took Friday off to spend with her son. Reese had called after the funeral and suggested it. He’d spoken to Griff at the graveside service.
“I know it’s hard,” Reese had said. “I was older than you when my dad died, but it was still rough. He was a businessman like your father, so we didn’t get to spend a lot of time together. But I still remember him, remember some of the little things we did together.”
“Dad took me out to the lake once,” Griff said, fighting back tears. “I wanted him to teach me to water-ski but he said it was too dangerous.”
“One of my friends has a boat,” Reese said. “Maybe we can go sometime.”
Kenzie looked at her son. For the first time that day, something besides sadness shone in Griff’s eyes. “Really?”
“If we go and your mom thinks it’s okay, I’ll teach you.”
Gratitude slipped through her. She looked up at Reese, saw the caring in his eyes, and a warm feeling expanded inside her. From that moment on, Kenzie thought the day had somehow seemed brighter.
She couldn’t help thinking how different Reese was from Lee. How he actually seemed to take an interest in her son. It scared her to think how deeply she was getting involved with him. She knew what Reese was like, that odds were he’d get bored with her and move on. She told herself she could handle it when the time came.
Friday morning slipped away, drifted into afternoon. The sun was out, the September air still warm after last night’s rain.
“Why don’t you two go for a swim?” Gran suggested. “Weather’s nice today.”