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Danny shook her head. “No. I left the military to get away from whoever it was. I came home to Louisiana and chose Bayou Mambaloa because it was a small town where everyone knows everyone else’s business. I’ve never felt like anyone followed me here.”

She glanced up at a clock on the wall and shot to her feet. “Damn. I’m going to be late.”

“I’m headed to the Crawdad Hole.” Jacques rose and collected their plates. “The team’s meeting there. You could ride with me.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be there until we close.” She walked to the door and held it open for him. “I’ll take my truck.”

Jacques didn’t push or tell her he planned to stay until they closed. He’d stay. “Then I guess I’ll see you later.” He exited her apartment and hurried back to where he’d left his Jeep a couple blocks away. He’d just pulled out onto Main Street when Danny’s battered old pickup emerged from behind the yoga studio onto Main.

Jacques followed at a distance. He didn’t want her to think he was a stalker, but he worried about her. Yes, the Fontenots were vindictive. They might come after her for taking down their kin. Even more disturbing was that the man who’d raped her would soon have no leverage to keep her silent. Surely he would worry that she would file charges against him as soon as he could no longer threaten her brother’s career and retirement.

She hadn’t gone to the authorities when it happened. He might think his warning had kept her from doing so, rather than the fact that she couldn’t remember who he was. Her brother's retirement was three weeks away. Maybe the clock was ticking. Maybe not.

Jacques would talk with Remy and have Swede do some digging into the people who’d been at the Fort Benning Ranger School at the same time as Danny. It was a shot in the dark, with anywhere from five hundred to a thousand students in attendance at any one time, plus cadre.

He followed her to the Crawdad Hole, waiting until she entered the building before he parked his SUV in the lot. Then he waited a little longer.

When Remy arrived with Jeffries and the other two members of his team, Jacques walked in with them.

Hank was already there with several more Bayou Brotherhood members, having dropped Sadie off with Remy’s wife and son for the evening.

They pulled several tables together and gathered around.

Danny, a welcoming smile plastered across her face, approached. “Gentlemen, could I take your orders?”

Jacques saw past the smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes to the tightness of her jaw.

“Thanks, Danny,” Remy said. “You could start by bringing several pitchers of beer and mugs for everyone. If anyone wants something different, you can place orders after we get this meeting started.”

The colonel nodded toward Danny. “A cold beer sounds great. I’m buying. You can bring me the tab.”

Remy made the introductions. “For those who haven’t met him, this is Colonel Promotable, Grant Jeffries, his aide, Major Todd Beaumont and Defense contractor Curtis Hale.” Remy nodded toward the other men at the table. “You’ve met Hank Patterson, the founder of Brotherhood Protectors. Members of the Bayou Brotherhood here tonight are Jacques Jardin, Anton Noel, Gerard Guidry, Beau Boyette, Rafael Romero and Maurice Boucher—and you know Xavier Xander.”

Colonel Jeffries smiled and nodded toward Xavier. “Yes, indeed, we know Xander. He’s the reason we’ve come all the way from Washington to Bayou Mambaloa. When we couldn’t convince him to come to Washington and set up a security force there, we decided to hire one already in operation. Hence, our proposal to hire Brotherhood Protectors to provide security for me and my team.”

“Is it usual for a colonel promotable to hire a security team?” Anton asked.

The colonel’s smile faded, and his brow furrowed. “Not actually, but circumstances have made it necessary, at least until we can identify and neutralize the threat.” He turned to his aide. “Major Beaumont?”

The major opened a black leather brief, pulled out a pen, and tapped it against the pad of paper. “A few weeks ago, Colonel Jeffries received his presidential nomination and subsequent Senate confirmation. Shortly after, he began receiving threatening letters. We have yet to determine who is sending them. Until that time, we need to provide for his protection now until his promotion ceremony in five weeks. Beyond that, we want to provide security for general officers where and when needed.” He nodded to his boss for him to continue.

“As I said,” Colonel Jeffries smile returned, “rather than set up a whole new security team, we propose to contract with Brotherhood Protectors. Montagne has also promised to help us find the one responsible for the threatening letters. Mr. Hale accompanied us here to work through the contracting details.”

Major Beaumont leaned forward. “We were able to work through some of the particulars with Mr. Montagne this afternoon. We think bringing on former special forces operators that the Brotherhood Protectors can provide will be the best solution for our security needs. Who better to protect our military’s general officers than men with the highest standard of military training? All we need now is to settle on a price and names of those who will be assigned to the mission.”

Beaumont’s pen poised over the pad.

“I can work with other regional branches of the Brotherhood Protectors to help fill the quota,” Hank offered. “I have new members coming on board who haven’t been assigned to a region. Positioning them in DC would be ideal for an ongoing assignment, but they won’t be available for at least a month.”

“We need people in place sooner than a month,” Jeffries said. “My promotion is in five weeks. I feel the threats on my life are tied to the promotion. Frankly, I’d like to make it to that promotion ceremony alive.”

Anton raised a hand. “I’ll go.”

“You do realize that you could be in DC into the new year,” Xavier said.

“Didn’t you volunteer to be Papa Noel this year?” Gerard asked.

Anton frowned. “I didn’t volunteer, and working in DC into the new year would be fine with me.”