After a murder at a voodoo ceremony in a charming New Orleans bistro, street cops Jordan O’Reilly, Liam O’Reilly, and Zachary Doucet have a personal stake in solving the case. But if they meddle in the investigation, they may get thrown off the force—or worse.
Par 3: Zachary
Officer Zachary Doucet arrives at a murder scene‒‒the victim another voodoo ceremony participant‒‒only to face his ex-partner Detective Rebecca Romero. Zachary sees this murder as proof that the wrong man is in jail and intends to clear his half-brother Jordan. From experience, Rebecca fears he’ll do anything to get what he needs, so she unofficially works the case with him. Their unconsummated attraction to each other flares anew, but with Rebecca a straight arrow and Zachary a maverick, is there hope for a future together?
New Orleans Magic: Jordan…Liam…Zachary…each of these compelling stories ends with an HEA for the hero and heroine. But only the full set will finally get to the bottom of the murder mystery. Be sure to read them all!
“And what would you know about blood, Yancy?” Zachary asked as he slid into the open. “You got any in those veins?” Before a sputtering Yancy could answer, Zachary added, “Liam isn’t one to manufacture anything and you know it.”
“No, he can leave that to you!”
With that jab at Zachary’s past, Yancy went to give orders to the forensic team.
Leaving a wide-eyed Becca staring at him.
Zachary stared back, appreciative as always of the contradiction that was Rebecca Romero, an exotic beauty in a plain paper wrapper. Lush dark-brown hair with red highlights was scraped back from an angular face and tucked into a French braid. Wide-spaced dark eyes and a full mouth went unadorned by makeup. Slender curves remained hidden beneath a loose pale-aqua shirt and pleated tan trousers. Long fingers with short burgundy-polished nails worried the heavy gold cross hanging from a chain around her graceful neck. The same cross she’d worn all those years ago when she’d graduated from the Police Academy and been assigned as his partner, Zachary remembered. Her fingering the cross was a sure tell.
She was nervous.
Because of him.
He gave her a wry smile. “It’s been a long time, Becca.”
“Our paths don’t cross much anymore,” she admitted. “Well, not until this case.”
He’d seen Becca around the station, but they hadn’t come face-to-face on a case since she’d made detective. Not since she’d turned against him for making certain a perp hadn’t been able to get into his apartment and destroy evidence before the warrant arrived. Amazing tool, a little piece of twig. Jammed a lock good with a little effort. The small-time drug dealer had known he’d been made, though, and his lock tampered with. And when questioned, Rebecca had too quickly admitted what she’d seen her partner do.
Rebecca Romero was a sterling cop, a regular straight arrow in a city force that had enough corruption to make investigative reporters salivate for the next damning story. Zachary understood her motivation in telling the truth, though he didn’t appreciate the results for himself. He hadn’t made detective or even been promoted since the incident. And all he’d been doing was assuring them a collar of a hard-assed criminal.
Because of her, he might be wearing the same damn uniform for the rest of his natural life.