Chapter Thirty-five

Rett

“They’re fucking with us,” I said after the trackers on Ingalls’s and Boudreau’s cars had taken my men on a wild goose chase. “They know we’ve tracked them.”

“I thought,” Leon said, watching the same screen I was watching, “they’d take us into the bayou. Ingalls’s car crossed the river just like the Cadillac with Mrs. Ramses had earlier. It seemed like he was heading in, but now he’s on I-12. And Boudreau, he went near where our boys dropped him and Ingalls off for their bayou adventure, but he passed all the roads too. Headed west on 10.”

“Where is the warehouse our mole within Boudreau’s organization talked about?”

“Northeast of Baton Rouge, near the train yard.”