Sex, Lies & Lipstick (A Moonlight and Magnolias Novel Book 2) Read online

  Agent Leo Xanthis walked in as Polly raved on, her back turned to the door.

  “Believe it or not, Mac,” she continued to rant. “It’s been longer than I want to admit since I’ve had sex. And I’m not settling for just anyone. I want a real man who’s kind and supportive. One who will sweep me off my motherfucking feet and make me feel like a goddamned Cinderella. So if King Giles wants to show me the mirrors on the ceiling of his bedroom or what’s in his red room of pain, I think I might just have a look. Do you feel me?” she finished with gusto.

  Turning on her heels, Mac, Leo and I stood at the door waiting.

  “Well now,” Leo uttered in his thick Cajun drawl. “I think I like this girl. C’mon cher, let’s roll.”

  Leo walked to Polly and offered his arm to her. “I think the Big Easy and Miss Polly are gonna get along just fine,” he smiled.

  Polly remained silent, and I watched the heat of the moment fill her cheeks with embarrassment. I bit down on my bottom lip and tried not to smile. If I went there, a laugh was going to follow and I didn’t want to embarrass Polly any more than she’d already embarrassed herself.

  Polly took his arm and the silence in the room became uncomfortable. Everyone was thankful when Katy decided to give a little cry as she stretched her arms out of the blanket she was tightly wrapped in.

  Leo and Polly walked to the cars and Mac smiled and shook his head at me. “Can’t take her anywhere.”

  I walked out the door of King’s lake house, never looking back.

  With Mimi and Nancy secured in Shadeland and Celia and Richard taking care of our homes, all we needed to do was sit tight, let the FBI find Hector and then we could all go home and live happily ever after.

  Mimi told me once to never look back, and I hadn’t. I wasn’t going that way.

  We pulled through the gate of Z’s home in the Garden District of New Orleans.

  The Third Street home was like a beautiful jewel set in an amazing string of pearls along the neighborhood streets. The two story neoclassical home was about one hundred and fifty years old and contained everything an old Southern home should – pillars, a garden and charm.

  The perfectly manicured lawn made me long for Lone Oak and the home I was anxious to make for us back in Alabama. The magnificent white manor Leo called home had always been known as Jackson House and was covered in ornate ironwork – a sign of wealth from years gone by.

  As we pulled through the gate and into the circular cobblestone driveway I couldn’t help but be impressed. I stepped out into the warm Louisiana sunshine and took a deep breath. The azaleas were in full bloom and the entire area was warm and inviting. It was like coming home to a place I’d never known.

  A butler met us on the porch and gave Leo a “good day” bow. “Mr. Leo,” he smiled. “It’s good to have you back.”

  “Hello, Oscar,” Leo smiled as he took a deep breath. “It’s good to be back.”

  I unhooked Katy from the car seat as Polly did the same for Dax and looked up as I took in all that was the grounds of Jackson House.

  “C’mon in, folks. Let’s have a little sweet tea and talk over what’s to become of us,” Leo laughed as he waited at the door for us to make it into the entrance hall.

  “I hate to miss the sweet tea, y’all,” Polly interjected, giving the Southerners a little jab. “But I need to put a little girl down for a nap and a little boy probably needs some downtime too.”

  “Not a problem, cher,” Leo replied with a smile.

  “Oscar, will you escort Miss Polly to her guestroom and please tell Adelay that Polly will require her assistance.”

  “Oh,” Polly breathed. “I don’t need any assistance.”

  “Miss Polly,” Leo drawled as he moved closer to her and took her hand. “We’ve some safety issues to cover, and I’d like to only go over them once. If that’s alright with you.”

  “Sure, I mean, sorry.” Polly’s voice dropped.

  “No, no,” he smiled. “I’m the one who’s sorry, cher. Just get the babies settled and come down directly.”

  “I’ll help you, Polly, and then we can get back down for the ah…security briefing even sooner,” I nodded with a smile, taking Polly’s free hand in mine and urging her up the stairs with Katy in my arms and Dax in hers.

  We followed Oscar to the second floor of the magnificent home. The white walls of the entrance made it seem even larger.

  “Mr. Leo has you in the Golden Room, Miss Polly,” Oscar explained as he opened the door and ushered us in.

  It was warm and breathtaking in its ornate décor. Every single thing in the room was gold and the space reverberated in the color. The walls were covered in an ancient golden fabric that matched the bed and drapes. The mirrors were gold as was the furniture. The large canopy bed was draped in miles of gold fabric. It was as French and fancy as any photo of the Versailles home of King Louis.

  “It’s magnificent,” I remarked.

  “Wow,” Polly smiled. “Can we bring in a bed for the baby and Dax?” she asked as she looked to the ceiling, admiring the crystal chandelier that was the center masterpiece of the room.

  “No need, ma’am,” Oscar smiled. “The golden room is connected through the washroom to the nursery. I hope that suits.”

  “It’s wonderful, Oscar,” I nodded. “I feel as though we are putting everyone out,”

  “No, ma’am. Mr. Leo gave specific instructions that Miss Polly was to have a private room.”

  “Okay then,” Polly smiled as she let go of Dax’s hand and sat in an ornate chair by the window.

  “Where am I sleeping?” Dax asked Oscar.

  “Follow me, Master Callahan,” he smiled, ushering him through a hidden door that led to the large marbled bathroom.

  As he led us through, Oscar opened the door on the opposite side and looked to Dax. “You, fine sir, will be staying in the White Room.”

  We walked through the door Oscar held open into a blinding light. Like the Golden Room, everything in the White Room was white – the furniture, the bed and the crisp linens. A mound of white roses sat on a center table between a bed and a bassinet.

  “It’s a big boy bed,” Dax smiled.

  “Your sister has a bed as well.” Oscar motioned toward a beautiful round bassinet complete with a white satin bow.

  “It’s beautiful,” I smiled.

  “Good day, everyone,” a cheerful voice said from the door. We turned and a young girl of no more than twenty stood in the doorway in a khaki skirt and polo shirt. “I’m Adelay, and you must be Dax.”

  “I’m Dax!” he shouted, excited that someone knew his name already.

  “Can you say Adelay?” she asked with an inviting smile.

  Dax looked up to me as if to ask permission and I gave him a nod, letting him know it was okay to speak to her.

  “Ad-ah-lay,” he sounded out.

  “Wonderful!” she shouted with enthusiasm. “We’re going to have such fun, you and me. What do you think about that?”

  “Polly’s gonna make me nap,” he scowled.

  “It’s up to your mother.” Polly shook her head, making me the heavy.

  “Katy needs a nap, but if you can play quietly and not wake her, I think that would be just fine.”

  “I have crayons,” Dax announced to Adelay. “I’m a good draw-ler.”

  “C’est magnifique!” she smiled.

  “What does that mean?” Dax asked.

  “It means that is great,” Adelay laughed.

  “Great,” he repeated.

  I put Katy down in the bassinet for a nap and looked to Adelay for a sign that everything was okay.

  “Mrs. Callahan,” she smiled. “Here’s a monitor to the room,” she explained as she handed me a small hand-held television. It was the size of my phone, but the screen clearly showed the nursery and the attached bathroom.

  “You’ll be able to watch from this,” Adelay assured me. “Don’t worry. We’ll be just fine.”

  I wa
lked out of the room and looked to Oscar. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Callahan. Adelay is wonderful with the children.”

  “No…no,” I stuttered. “I’m sure she’s great. I’m just feeling…relaxed for the first time in a couple of days.”

  “I understand, ma’am. The Big Easy will do that for you. Shall I show you to your room?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Polly and I followed Oscar down the hall, giving each other looks as if we’d just checked into a luxury hotel that was too good to be true.

  “Ma’am, you and Mr. Callahan will be in the Blue Room.”

  As he opened the door, I expected floor to ceiling blue, but was completely surprised. The room was a steely grey with silver accents and white linens. Beautiful, it opened onto a balcony that overlooked the back yard of the home.

  The white curtains flowed into the room, catching the afternoon breeze with a vengeance.

  “It’s beautiful,” I sighed.

  “It is,” Polly agreed. “I just expected it to be blue.”

  Oscar nodded but gave no explanation. I didn’t want to push it, as it was more than what we would need for the next few days.

  “Oscar,” I smiled, taking his hand. “Thank you for getting us settled.”

  “My pleasure, Mrs. Callahan.”

  “Please,” I begged. “Call me Sam.”

  “And I’m Polly.”

  Oscar nodded. “I think Mr. Leo wanted me to escort you back into the front parlor so you can join the discussion. I’ll have some sweet tea brought in for you.”

  He escorted us down the grand white staircase and motioned for us to go left and into a beautiful parlor. Mac and Leo sat on the couch, file folders and legal pads in their hands.

  I watched as Leo dropped a thick file folder on the coffee table.

  “Leo,” I smiled. “Thank you so much for taking us in like this. Your home is lovely.”

  “It’s my pleasure, cher. I know if I were in the same position, Mac wouldn’t hesitate to take me to Lone Oak. How you gettin’ along at the old homestead anyway?”

  “Sam just moved in. We were making it official after the honeymoon,” Mac explained.

  “I see,” Leo sighed. “Well maybe petit Paris will do for a couple of days until we can get things under control and you can head to the other city of lights and love.”

  I nodded and he looked past me to catch Polly’s eye.

  “Do you prefer Leo? Or Z?” Polly asked as she took a seat in the room and made herself comfortable.

  “Either,” he smiled. “Most of the household calls me Leo. It’s what my parents called me. But I’ve always been Z at the Bureau. I’m pretty sure Mac made sure of that.”

  “Yeah,” Mac joked. “Because no one wanted to say Xanthis all the time. It made you sound like an evil comic book character. Z was easier.”

  “And what did they call you, sweetheart?” I asked Mac sarcastically as I sat on the couch beside him.

  “Mac,” he said flatly.

  “We didn’t want him to think he was Dirty Harry,” Leo smirked.

  “What?” Polly asked.

  “You know, Clint Eastwood in Dirty Harry.”

  “His name was Callahan?”

  “See Mac, chicks just don’t dig a man with a gun.”

  “Sure they do.” Mac smiled my way as he picked up the folder.

  “Ladies,” Leo began as he pulled up a chair. “I’ve been filling Mac in on what I’ve learned about this case in the last forty-eight hours. Mac will get more in Washington himself when he gets there tomorrow–”

  “Wait. What?” I interrupted. “Mac, is there something you want to tell me?”

  Mac gave a heavy sigh and stood and began to pace the room. “I was going to tell you this morning but didn’t get a chance.”

  “Tell me now.”

  “I’m leaving for D.C. Just a couple of days to wrap things up. I’m still handing over the case, but I need to do it in person. I need to meet with Dan and not on a conference call.”

  I shook my head. “You’re leaving us here?”

  “You’re in the best hands I know, Sam. Z’s house is a fortress and no one is getting in or out.”

  “Including us,” Polly sighed.

  “Well, that’s not entirely true, cher,” Leo interjected. “I was hoping to show you around New Orleans while you were here.”

  I was confused and scared. I didn’t want Mac to leave me in a strange city in a stranger’s home while he ran off and played FBI agent. “Mac, I don’t understand.”

  “I’ll be back before you know it. I can work faster from D.C. where I’ll have access to the DEA’s records and everything the CIA might have on Hector.”

  “I don’t know if you understand this or not, Samantha,” Leo drawled. “But spooks and G-men aren’t a house on fire.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “CIA and FBI don’t play nice in the sandbox,” Polly explained.

  “Nicely done, Miss Polly,” Leo smiled.

  “I’m going back to D.C. to do as much of the legwork as I can for Dan. The last thing I want is for Hector to go back into hiding and show up in six months to terrorize us. I want Hector caught, but as I promised I’m going off the case,” Mac assured me.

  “How are we going to make sure he doesn’t go back into hiding?” I asked, looking to both of them.

  “We’re going to bait him a little, Samantha,” Leo explained.

  “What? How?”

  “His drug cartel has all but abandoned him. We know this because we have a man on the inside.”

  “You mean inside the drug cartel?”

  Mac and Leo both nodded calmly.

  “What can he do?” I asked.

  “Get word to Hector that his scare tactic didn’t work and hope he’ll be eager to make a move,” Leo continued.

  “Then what happens?” I asked.

  “We track him and arrest him,” Leo continued.

  “Just like that?” Polly asked. “If it’s that easy, how come it’s taken until now to get to him?”

  “Hector was not welcomed back into his drug family with open arms after trying to kill me. They knew the FBI would track him to the cartel. Frankly, I’m surprised they let him live. He had to lay low while they hoped the case would be filed away and they could find another avenue to run the drugs through the South. Small towns like Shadeland are a perfect hideout for drug runners. Local police don’t know what to look for. They can fly under the radar, establish legitimate employment – like at Autumn Valley – and set up the exchange from the suppliers to dealers,” Mac explained. “Problem was, Hector fell in love.”

  “With my boss.”

  Mac nodded. “Unfortunately. Hector fell in love with a sixty year old man who was living two lives. One as a pillar of the community with a wife and grown children and the other the unsuspecting gay lover of a drug dealer at the wrong time,” Mac continued.

  I listened and felt like for the first time I truly understood the whole story.

  “Hector has probably repressed his homosexual feelings most of his life,” Leo explained as he stood to pace the room. “Before Miller, we don’t think he expressed his sexuality. That’s why it made it all the more devastating when Miller committed suicide.”

  “And why he wanted some sort of retribution,” Polly added.

  “Yes,” Leo agreed.

  “Sam,” Mac pleaded as he took my hands and pulled them to his mouth for a quick kiss. “You know I wouldn’t leave you unless I absolutely had to. But I feel it’s the best way to wrap the case quickly.”

  I nodded and looked to the floor.

  “And then we can go to Paris for our honeymoon,” he added.

  “I think I might need a vacation from all this vacationing before we make plans to leave the country,” I confessed.

  “Whatever you like, baby.”

  “Hector’s probably psychotic, Sam,” Leo explained. “Now whether that’s due to some past emotional trauma before he ever
made it to Shadeland and his affair with Miller, or it’s a result of a combination of lots of things, Miller’s suicide, the death of his son Diego, schizophrenia, bipolar…” Leo trailed.

  “Wait.” I stopped the conversation and stood. “Hector had a son? And he’s dead?”

  “I wasn’t going to tell you that,” Mac frowned in Leo’s direction. “But yes. We think the cartel killed his young boy. It’s part of why he’s off the rails.”

  “He’s certainly delusional,” Polly offered.

  “Interesting diagnosis, Polly,” Leo nodded.

  “Polly’s a psychologist. We went to Princeton together,” I mumbled as I watched Leo give Polly the once over from head to toe as I wrapped my head around Hector’s loss. I felt bad for Hector. Even though I knew he wanted me dead, somehow I felt bad for his young son.

  “Jersey girl, huh?” Leo drawled.

  “Where did you go to school, Leo?” Polly asked.

  “Stanford,” he drawled.

  “But you live in New Orleans?”

  “I live in Fredericksburg, Virginia. Just outside of Quantico.”

  “Z’s part of the Behavioral Analysis Unit,” Mac added.

  I watched as Leo and Polly maintained eye contact. We talked around them as if they were part of our conversation. They weren’t. They were carrying on their own tête-à-tête with their eyes.

  I gave Mac a frown as they looked at each other without saying a word. Leo with his dark skin and eyes was as mysterious as I would expect a psychologist from New Orleans to be. His shoulder length hair was always tied back in ponytail, but it gave him an edginess that I knew was a turn-on for Polly. He was far from the FBI norm, wearing dark jeans, black ankle boots and a white linen shirt that remained untucked. He was badass, and I could tell by the look in Polly’s eyes she thought he was hotter than hell.

  In return, Polly’s long legs and Midwestern charm seemed to be working on the gentleman from Louisiana.

  “Z,” Mac finally spoke. “What do the ladies need to know about the grounds here?”

  “Yes,” Leo continued as he broke his stare on Polly and moved to the other side of the room. “It’s pretty simple. I come from a long line of bootleggers in the South. My family immigrated long ago from Greece and my great grandfather and grandfather made the family– ah, fortune – so to speak, in providing illegal alcohol for more than a few decades.”