Chapter 5 - The Man Who Actually Set the FireThe brick contained trace paint.
Cheap industrial red.
Benny traced the type to maintenance equipment used by one of Marchand’s old warehouses.
Then came the breakthrough.
A fingerprint.
Partial.
Belonged to Thomas Rusk.
Former Marchand security.
Rusk had disappeared after the bakery fire.
Now lived under another name in Mississippi.
Federal agents found him first.
Rusk talked.
Because Lucien Marchand had stopped paying him years ago.
Because old loyalty becomes fragile when money ends.
He admitted setting the fire.
Nell listened from another room.
Rusk said:
“Lucien wanted the building empty.”
“Did you know Emmett was inside?”
“Yes.”
Nell covered her mouth.
“Eleanor?”
“I thought she’d left.”
She hadn’t.
Nell had been upstairs sleeping after a fourteen-hour shift.
She woke to smoke.
Her father dragged her down.
The rear door wouldn’t open.
They escaped through a front window.
Emmett suffered severe injury.
Rusk continued:
“Marchand said scare them. He didn't say kill them.”
“Then why chain the door?”
“To make sure nobody came through the back and saw me.”
Nell started shaking.
Carmine moved closer.
Did not touch her.
She reached for his hand herself.
He held it.
Rusk’s testimony connected Lucien directly to conspiracy.
Insurance fraud followed.
Witness intimidation.
Property fraud.
Attempted violence at the care facility.
The case became enormous.
Lucien’s reputation collapsed first.
Then businesses.
Then freedom.
He was arrested outside a charity gala.
Nell watched on television.
No satisfaction.
Only exhaustion.
Carmine asked:
“You expected more?”
“I thought I’d feel better.”
“You will.”
“When?”
He looked at her.
“Slowly.”
That night, Emmett returned to New Orleans.
Nell arranged a room above the bakery.
He could not work.
But he could smell bread.
He cried the first morning she baked.
“Too sweet,” he mumbled when he tasted pecan filling.
Nell laughed.
Carmine stood nearby.
Emmett looked at him.
“You.”
Carmine straightened.
“Sir.”
Nell stared.
Nobody called Emmett Fontaine sir anymore.
Emmett pointed weakly.
“Orsini.”
“Yes.”
“Bad family.”
Carmine nodded.
“Historically.”
Nell covered a laugh.
Emmett looked at his daughter.
“You like him?”
Nell went red.
Carmine looked away.
“Dad.”
Emmett smiled.
“Good.”
Then:
“Make him work.”
Carmine looked back.
“Excuse me?”
Emmett pointed toward flour bags.
Carmine spent the afternoon carrying flour.
Benny nearly died laughing when he saw.
“Boss.”
“Not one word.”
“Never.”
“You’re smiling.”
“I have allergies.”
May you like
Nell laughed from the kitchen.
And for the first time in years, Fontaine Bakery sounded alive.
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