He raised one brow at me in question, and I tossed my head toward the entrance to tell him I was ready to go. He gave me a single, brief nod and tapped Kevin on the shoulder. Together, they stood, and Corinne slid out of the booth behind Marc. He offered her his hand, but she hugged him instead, standing on her toes to whisper something in his ear. Her lips actually moved that time, but I didn’t want to know what she was saying, so I turned and wound my way through a jumble of tables, heading toward the door. We had lunch at the Cajun Bar and Grill, where Marc and I exchanged information over spicy jambalaya, doing our best to ignore Kevin’s interruptions. He was working overtime to get on our collective good side, but he might as well have saved his breath. We’d be reporting him to my father even if he’d been able to hand over the murdering tabby bound and gagged. After lunch, Kevin drove us across the Mississippi border into Picayune, where we found Robert Harper’s apartment with little trouble.
