Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 145729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Sonia gave an exaggerated sigh, carrying out the ritual they were both familiar with. He was always talking. She was always waiting impatiently. After five minutes, she drummed her fingers loudly on his desk. At ten she paced. At fifteen she pointed to the door and started walking.
“Wait,” Jerry called. “Gotta go,” he added, and hung up abruptly on his client. “Sheesh, woman, you could have a little patience.”
“That was me being patient,” Sonia pointed out.
Jerry gave a snort of disbelief. “Regardless of your rudeness, I have a job for you.”
“Jerry, I have three already. Dickerson’s porch, Molly Sheffield’s garage and Donna Miller’s outside kitchen that isn’t really outside because she wants it enclosed with a wall.”
“On three sides.”
“Now four. It’s a room, Jerry, and it’s stupid.”
To her shock he waved that ongoing argument away. “This,” he said, leaning over the desk, his eyes bright, “is a real job. The real deal. Rafe Cordeau owned one of the biggest pieces of land around here. One of the nicest plantation houses. Recently, it got shot up all to hell; at least, that’s the rumor. Someone’s moved in, and they apparently tried to repair it themselves, but it’s a mess. He wants an estimate on repairing the outside damage, a kitchen remodel and possibly more work. He’ll talk about that when you go out there and take a look.”
“What do you mean, ‘shot up all to hell’?” she asked, suspicion in her voice.
He waved that away. “Rafe Cordeau was a mobster. Big-time. He left and hasn’t returned. They say he’s dead.”
“They?” She was not getting mixed up with the mob. Been there, done that. Never again. “Who, exactly, are they?”
Jerry scowled at her, meaning to look intimidating, succeeding in making himself look cute. Jerry would hate being called cute, so she kept that for a different time when she really wanted to annoy him. “They are the people in the know. The point, Sonia, is that he’s gone and we’ve got a new guy willing to pay money to fix up his house. That’s what we do. We fix up houses. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, that’s your particular love. You fix up old houses and restore them to their original beauty.” He grinned at her. “He’s got money. He can pay us.”
Okay. That was good. “You sure?” Just checking because no one in town had much in the way of real cash. Molly bought three sheets of drywall at a time. Dickerson had Sonia building the porch in stages. The outdoor kitchen was in the planning phase, meaning Donna Miller changed her mind every other minute. She was the only one with actual money, although Sonia was beginning to doubt the truth of that.
“I’m sure. I had him checked out. He comes from an old family from the New Orleans area. The Tregre family has been around from nearly the beginning of the history of New Orleans. The family is shrouded in secrecy, which means you have the opportunity to get to know them.”
She rolled her eyes. “Am I restoring a house or becoming a spy, Jerry? Sometimes I think you live for gossip.”
“Gossip is for women. I’m a businessman, Sonia. That means I need information. The more information I have on the people living in this town and the surrounding parishes, the better I can do at my business. You leave that side to me.”
She knew he loved what he did. The wheeling and dealing. The mingling with the mayor and bankers. His men had deserted him when he’d been in the accident, a silly move on their part since there was nothing wrong with Jerry’s brain. He brought in the jobs despite the slow time they were temporarily in. Winter had been harsh on everyone.
“Will do, boss. When do you want me out there?”
He handed her a Post-it note with Tregre and the address written on it. She recognized it immediately. The address was the only other home on her road. A chill slid down her spine. Her neighbor? “Um, Jerry? You said Rafe Cordeau was in the mob and bullets were flying around his house? How do you know that he was a gangster?”
“Everyone knows he had mob connections.”
“Why the bullets?”
“When he disappeared, a bunch of his men tried a takeover, or something like that. I’m still getting details. Apparently no one managed the takeover.”
“And this Tregre?”
Jerry shook his head. “Old family, not mob. I think there was some scandal attached to his grandfather, but not this man. He went off to some foreign country and did things like rescue kidnap victims. Hero shit. Not mafia.”
She let her breath out. Okay, she could deal with bullet holes as long as any living, breathing mafia wasn’t involved.
“He wants you out there as soon as possible. His people are making a mess out of his home. He loves the plantation house and wants it restored. Sonia, this is our chance. He’s got the money, and you have the know-how. I can get a large work crew if you need one, and hopefully you will. We need this. We’re surviving, but not by much.”