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He figured his voice mail would be full within an hour with crackpots and true crime wannabes trying to cash in on the ten grand reward, but he would not be calling anyone back. Because none of them would know where Rick was.
Corey knew, of course. Rick was with Jace at Corey’s camp on the bayou, being guarded by Corey’s best friend, Bobby. The camp had been the only place Corey had been able to think to hide them last night after Jace’s frantic call for assistance. Corey had been rattled and angry, able to think only about the blow his brothers had struck to his business.
ADA Cardozo, for fuck’s sake. It just had to be ADA Cardozo. It had been bad enough when Aaron had landed the same prosecutor who was also prosecuting Trevor Doyle. Their client had been very displeased. But then Rick had to go and grab Cardozo’s kid? The ADA and the NOPD would be coming after anyone named Gates.
Which included Corey, unfortunately.
“Where’s your youngest brother Jace?” another reporter called out.
“He’s with some friends.” Luckily, no one knew that Jace had been driving the van. He’d managed to keep his ski mask on, unlike Rick, who was supposed to be the smart one. “Jace isn’t involved in any of this. Please respect his privacy. Now, if you’ll excuse—”
“Mr.Gates!” A redhead forced her way to the front of the crowd, her microphone extended. “Did Rick’s abduction attempt have anything to do with the fact that your older brother Aaron is in jail awaiting trial for the murder of Dr.Singh last week? Was Rick trying to use ADA Cardozo’s son to get Aaron out of jail?”
Of course he was, he wanted to snap. You’re as big an idiot as Rick is. But he said no such thing. The redhead was Noni Feldman and her news program was viewed by thousands.
So he shrugged sadly. “Who knows what was going through his mind? We’ve all been on edge since Aaron’s crime last week, but that doesn’t excuse Rick’s behavior, either. We’ve undergone a great deal of stress this year. Six months ago, we lost our nephew Liam to cancer, and he was only eight years old. His death sent Rick spiraling deeper into depression. Rick’s not a bad kid, but he’s not making good choices right now. Please, help me find him.”
Corey started to back away, knowing that they’d continue to pepper him with questions.
“Mr.Gates!” Noni called again. “You mentioned Rick was involved with a gang. Which one, and how do you know?”
Finally. This was the question he’d been waiting for, the major element of the spin.
Corey let his shoulders sag and hoped he looked as worried as he’d practiced in the mirror. “Sixth Day.”
That got everyone talking.
“But Sixth Day isn’t operating anymore,” a male reporter protested. “They collapsed four years ago.”
“I didn’t know anything about Sixth Day until last night,” Corey told the camera, with exhaustion that was not feigned. The tip that the NOPD believed Dewey Talley had been driving the van hadn’t been passed on to them until nearly dawn. But it had made all the difference. “I’d never even heard of them.” More lies.
Corey knew Sixth Day very well. He knew Dewey Talley particularly well, because the man was Aaron’s partner. Prior to their partnership, Sixth Day had sold drugs to anyone from schoolkids to rich socialites. Over the last four years, Dewey and Aaron had grown the business into a boutique racket, no longer focusing on the schoolkids. Sixth Day’s clientele was now exclusively the rich and famous of New Orleans, the movers and shakers.
Well, it had been. With Aaron in jail and Dewey about to be set up for Rick’s crime, local high society would have to get their happy pills somewhere else. Corey had no desire to keep that business going.
“But we found evidence that Rick was communicating with one of Sixth Day’s leaders—a guy named Dewey Talley.” Gasps rippled through the gathered crowd. This was going better than he’d hoped. “After I read about what Sixth Day did in the past...” He shuddered. “I’m terrified for my brother, as I’m sure you understand. I need to find him so that he can get the help he needs. Now, I really have to go. Thank you for your time.”
He turned around, conscious of the reporters’ shouts and the camera flashes.
“Mr.Gates!” Noni Feldman again. “Are you going to bail your brother Aaron out of jail?”
Corey turned slowly to face the cameras, allowing them to see his true reaction—disbelief and contempt. “No. I have no intention of bailing him out. He killed a man with his bare hands. That he was high at the time was no excuse.” He shook his head. “And even if I wanted to, I don’t have that kind of money. His bail was set at two million dollars. Even ten percent of that for a bail bond is completely out of my reach. This house and Three Vets Renovation are all that I have.”
Which totally wasn’t true. His business doing dirty jobs for powerful people had enabled him to amass a fairly hefty bank account. Enough that he could pay Aaron’s bail. But Aaron’s betrayal was still way too fresh. Corey had always known that Aaron was a dick and a user, but he hadn’t expected Aaron to steal from his own family.
From me. From Dianne.
Corey was perfectly content to let Aaron rot in prison.
And when Aaron tried to draw on his own funds to bail himself out? He’d find he’d been cleaned out. By me.
He turned for his door once again, grinding his teeth when Noni Feldman’s voice rang out once more. “Your father did time for murder. Twelve years in Angola.”
Corey froze, his back to the crowd. The statement was true, of course, but every time he heard it spoken his gut turned to ice. He’d always despised Aaron, but the hatred he felt for his father eclipsed everything else.
“Do you think having a convicted felon for a father influenced your brothers to commit felonies?” she pushed. “Aaron killed Dr.Singh with his bare hands, just like your father killed his victim.”
Staring at his front door, Corey opened his mouth. Fuck you, bitch was on the tip of his tongue. His pulse pounded in his head, drowning out all other sounds. He wanted to kill Noni Feldman. Strangle her, just like his father had done to that stranger in a bar brawl when Corey had been only five years old. He remembered the reporters back then. Remembered the shame.
