Chapter 3 - Lucien MarchandLucien Marchand invited Carmine to lunch before Carmine could invite him to war.
That told Carmine enough.
The restaurant was one of Marchand’s.
Private room.
White tablecloth.
No menus.
Lucien arrived ten minutes late.
Power games.
Carmine did not care.
“You’ve been asking questions,” Lucien said.
“Yes.”
“About old property matters.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Pecan pie.”
Lucien stared.
Carmine almost enjoyed that.
Then he said:
“Fontaine Bakery.”
Lucien leaned back.
“Ancient history.”
“Not to Nell.”
“Who?”
“Eleanor Fontaine.”
Recognition flashed.
“Ah.”
The disrespect in that sound nearly cost him.
Carmine remained still.
“What happened the night of the fire?”
“Carelessness.”
“No.”
Lucien smiled.
“Do you have proof?”
“Not yet.”
“Then perhaps don't accuse me.”
“I didn't.”
Lucien’s smile faded.
Carmine continued:
“I asked.”
Silence.
Then Lucien sighed.
“Emmett Fontaine was stubborn.”
“That isn't a crime.”
“Neither is wanting to develop property.”
“Arson is.”
Lucien’s eyes hardened.
“You should be careful throwing words around.”
Carmine leaned forward.
“You should be careful assuming I throw anything.”
The meeting ended politely.
That was worse.
By sunset, Benny had found something.
A former Marchand employee.
Darius Cole.
Maintenance contractor.
Alcohol problem.
Now sober.
Living in Alabama.
Darius agreed to talk only after hearing Nell’s father was alive.
“I thought Emmett died.”
“He didn't.”
Darius cried.
That surprised Benny.
Then the story came.
Lucien had ordered him to disable an alarm system the night before the fire.
Not set the fire.
Just disable alarms.
“Who set it?”
“I don't know.”
“Who chained the rear door?”
Darius looked sick.
“I did.”
Nell listened to the recording in Carmine’s office.
Her face drained.
“Why?”
Darius’s recorded voice cracked.
“Lucien said it was to stop thieves entering from the alley.”
“Did he know people would be inside?”
“I didn't.”
Nell closed her eyes.
Carmine stopped playback.
“Enough.”
“No.”
“Nell.”
“Play it.”
He did.
Darius continued.
“I went back when I heard about the fire. Saw the chain. I knew.”
“Why didn't you tell police?”
“Marchand had my brother arrested on a drug charge. Said he could make the case disappear if I kept quiet.”
Carmine stopped the recording.
Nell stared at nothing.
Then whispered:
“Everybody was afraid.”
“Yes.”
“Keene.”
“Yes.”
“Darius.”
“Yes.”
“My father.”
“Yes.”
“And Marchand just kept winning.”
“Until now.”
Nell looked at Carmine.
“You sound very sure.”
“I dislike him.”
“That isn’t evidence.”
“No.”
She surprised him again.
“Good.”
“What?”
“You need to keep saying things like that.”
He almost smiled.
“What things?”
“Things that remind me not to become stupid because I’m angry.”
Nell looked at him.
“Then don’t.”
Something passed between them.
Not romance.
Not yet.
Trust beginning where neither expected it.
Then Benny entered.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We found the insurance adjuster.”
Nell looked up.
“She’s alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“New Orleans.”
The adjuster, Patricia Wynn, had approved Fontaine’s claim originally.
Then reversed it.
Why?
A payment.
Seventy-five thousand dollars.
From a consulting firm connected to Marchand.
That was enough for fraud investigators.
Not enough for arson.
But pressure accumulated.
Lucien felt it.
And three nights later, someone broke into Emmett Fontaine’s care facility.
They didn't reach Emmett.
Carmine’s security did.
The intruder was caught.
Phone records connected him to Marchand’s former security chief.
Nell stood in the hallway after.
“He tried to hurt Dad.”
“Yes.”
“Because I started asking questions.”
“Yes.”
She turned.
“Then I’m not stopping.”
Carmine looked at her.
“Good.”
“Good?”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
For the first time, Nell smiled at him.
Really smiled.
It changed her entire face.
Carmine forgot what he was about to say.
Nell noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That was strange.”
“Agreed.”
May you like
She laughed.
And Carmine Orsini, who had spent years learning not to reveal weakness, discovered that one woman’s laugh could make him dangerously careless.
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