Chapter 8 #2
"Pull his recent communications. Calls, texts, emails. Focus on any contact with Armand or LaCroix Petroleum personnel. Coordinate with Detective Broussard on the warrants."
"Already reached out. He's working it."
"What about the booking system compromise?" Simone asks. "How did Julien know which room we'd be using?"
Margot grimaces. "Still investigating. The attendant checks out on quick review. No prior incidents, no obvious red flags in our membership database. But someone accessed the booking system between when I made the reservation this morning and when Julien showed up."
"Inside help or hack?"
"Tech team's analyzing system logs. Few hours minimum to trace it properly."
It's late enough the team should be sleeping. Hours remain until the board meeting, and we need rest.
But something doesn't fit.
"Why would Julien be this sloppy?" The question cuts through the briefing.
"He's been running surveillance for weeks.
Professional equipment. Careful planning.
Strategic timing. Then he walks into Dominion in disguise, plants a camera in a room we're about to use, and lets us trace the signal back to a warehouse in under an hour? "
The room goes still.
"You think it's a setup," Remy says.
"I think someone this careful doesn't suddenly fuck up unless they want to be found." I pull up the warehouse photo again. "Look at this. Professional monitoring station. High-end equipment. But completely sterile. No one's been working from this location. It's a fucking stage set."
"Decoy," Margot says slowly.
"Misdirection. Give us Julien to chase while the real threat moves." I turn back to the comm. "Andy. Keep forensics working through the night if you need to. This is staged, whoever staged it made a mistake somewhere. Find it."
"Copy that."
I pull up the suspect list. "Who else benefits from destroying Simone?"
Simone moves closer to the screen. "Patricia Moreau wanted my job. Board considered her before choosing me. She's COO now, but she's never forgiven me for getting the position she thought was hers."
"Technical capability?"
"Operations management. Supply chain logistics. She'd know how to hire people who could set this up."
"Add her to the list." I scan the other names. "Who else?"
"Mateo Santos. CTO. Has the technical knowledge to build sophisticated surveillance systems. But weak motive. He's more interested in solving problems than playing politics."
"Weak motive doesn't mean no motive." I turn to the comm. "Andy, when you finish at the warehouse, start pulling financials on Patricia Moreau and Mateo Santos. Look for unusual expenditures. Payments to contractors. Anything that might fund this operation. Work on the warrants."
"Will do."
Remy stands. "It's late. Board meeting coming up. Simone needs rest."
He's right. But I don't want to stop. Not when Julien's location is unknown and his phone is dark. Not when pieces are still missing.
"Andy, keep monitoring Julien's phone. It pings, I want to know immediately." I gather my notes. "Margot, increase security at Dominion. No one enters private areas without two-person verification. Finish background checks on everyone who accessed the building today."
"Done."
We head to the SUV and I open the passenger door. She slides in without protest.
We're halfway to the estate when she breaks the silence.
"You think it's not just Julien," she says.
"Julien's part of it. So is your uncle. But we don't know if it stops there." Mirrors show the road clear behind us. "Could be just the two of them. Could be someone else working with Armand. Patricia. Mateo. Someone we haven't identified yet."
"Could be both."
"Could be."
I let her process. Sometimes silence is better than filling space with words that don't help.
The estate appears through the trees. Security lights illuminate the main house and guest house. Everything looks secure, but I run through my mental checklist anyway. Perimeter clear. Motion sensors active. Cameras operational. No alerts.
I park near the guest house. Cut the engine. Neither of us moves.
"Thank you," Simone says quietly. "For tonight. For Henry. For all of it."
"That's the job."
"Is it?" She turns to face me. "Because it felt like more than just operational necessity back there."
The scene at Dominion. She's talking about what happened before we discovered the camera. When I pushed her past performance into actual surrender. When I claimed her in ways that had nothing to do with protection details.
"We needed to sell it," I say. Keep my voice level. "Make whoever was watching believe you're under my protection."
"And did we? Sell it, I mean."
I meet her gaze. "Yes."
Her eyes search my face. Understanding. Relief, maybe.
Because it did affect me. Watching her finally let go. Feeling her surrender. Knowing I was the one who broke through years of performance to reach the real woman underneath. That wasn't part of the tactical plan. That was me wanting her in ways that have nothing to do with keeping her safe.
I'm emotionally invested. Caring about an asset I'm supposed to be protecting with professional detachment. Every tactical instinct says that's dangerous.
I don't give a fuck. She's mine.
"Get some rest," I tell her. "Tomorrow's going to be hard. You're standing in front of your board admitting you're being stalked. They're going to have questions. Some of them won't be kind."
"I know." She opens the door. Pauses. "Luc? Earlier, when you said I finally felt the difference between performing and actually submitting?"
"Yeah."
"You were right. About all of it." She looks back at me. "I've spent years pretending I was brave enough to surrender when all I was doing was chasing endorphins and maintaining control. Tonight was the first time I actually let go. And it terrified me. Still terrifies me."
I can see it in the tension around her eyes, the guarded way she's holding herself together.
"Fear's normal when foundations crack," I say. "You've built your whole life on control. Surrendering that feels like falling. But you didn't fall tonight. You flew."
Her breath catches. "Is that what it's supposed to feel like?"
"When it's real? Yes."
She nods slowly. Turning it over. Then she climbs out of the SUV and heads for the guest house. I watch until she's inside, door locked behind her, security system armed.
The feeds cycle through their loops when I pull them up on my phone. Everything's quiet. Perimeter secure. No alerts from Andy about Julien's phone.
But something's wrong. The pieces fit too cleanly. A professional stalker doesn't hand us his location unless he wants to be found.
I head inside the guest house. Water runs upstairs. Simone's in the shower, washing away the club, the surveillance, the violation of being watched.
The kitchen table becomes my command post. I open the laptop and spread case files across the surface.
Why plant a camera we'd find in under an hour?
The warehouse ping. The phone going dark right after. Too convenient. Too clean.
Unless he wanted us to find it.
I pull up his background again. Multiple former partners. Multiple restraining orders. Obsessive behavior. But also strategic enough to settle out of court with NDAs attached to all. Smart enough to avoid criminal charges despite clear stalking patterns.
This is someone who plans exits before he makes moves.
My phone buzzes. Text from Andy.
Julien's phone just pinged. LaCroix Petroleum headquarters.
He's at Simone's building right now.
I text Remy immediately.
Need you at the guest house. Now. Julien's at LaCroix Petroleum.
His response comes within seconds.
On my way.
I'm at the door when I hear the main house door open. Remy's crossing the lawn at a jog. He nods when he sees me, moves to the guest house entrance.
"She's upstairs," I tell him.
"Go. I've got her."
Now I move.