Free Louisiana Stalker by J. R. Roberts Page A

Simmons had gone. Now that he knew the name of the man working for Capucine Devereaux, it would be easy for him to find out what hotel Clint Adams was staying in. Keller had enough contacts around Baton Rouge to accomplish that without much difficulty.
    Once he had the Gunsmith’s location, he would show Capucine which man was the most dangerous, which one was most worth her time.
    Clint Adams may have been a legend of the Old West, but he was in Baton Rouge now, and in Louisiana, it was Lee Keller who ruled the roost.
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    The rain came to Baton Rouge.
    But it had been raining to the north for days and even weeks. And the excess water fed into the Mississippi, flowing down to the Gulf of Mexico. And the river’s levels rose, flooding places like Vicksburg and Natchez.
    And now the river was rising in Baton Rouge . . .
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    The mayor looked over the levee and the river. Standing next to him were the members of the town council, and the engineer, Ed Pearson.
    There were men down at the river’s edge, working on reinforcing the levee.
    â€œThis doesn’t look good, Ed.”
    â€œSir,” Pearson said, “the river is rising faster than we can build.”
    â€œThen get more men, Ed,” the mayor said. “The last thing we need is for our city to flood. If that happens, I’m not taking the blame, do you understand?”
    â€œI understand, sir,” Pearson said.
    â€œGentlemen,” the mayor said to the others, “let’s get back to City Hall.”

TWENTY-THREE
    By morning the rain had not stopped. In fact, it had increased. It kept Clint inside, once again having breakfast in the hotel dining room.
    â€œIt’s really pouring out there,” he said as the waiter brought his steak and eggs.
    â€œThey are saying the city might flood,” the waiter said. “They are working on the levees, but the river is rising too quickly.”
    â€œHas it happened before?”
    â€œYes, sir,” the waiter said. “Both New Orleans and Baton Rouge have flooded before. It’s devastating to the city.”
    â€œWell,” Clint said, “I suppose the city has men working on it.”
    â€œYes, sir,” the waiter said. “That’s what we hope.” But the waiter’s tone did not seem very hopeful.
    The man walked away and Clint started on his breakfast.
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    Outside, across the street, standing in the rain, Lee Keller watched the hotel. He was waiting for Clint Adams to come out. His intention was to follow the man and wait for his opportunity.
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    Capucine looked out the front window of her house, the house she shared with her husband. The driving rain made it hard to see, but she thought there was a man across the street, watching.
    â€œWhat is it?” Simon Devereaux asked from behind her. “Do you see someone out there?”
    â€œI’m not sure,” she said.
    â€œWell,” Devereaux said, “you have a man who is supposed to be taking care of this for you, don’t you? Clint Adams?”
    â€œYes.” They had discussed her hiring of the Gunsmith the night before.
    â€œThen let him handle it,” Devereaux said. “What about your girls?”
    She turned and looked at him.
    â€œWhat about them?” she asked.
    â€œAnybody following them?”
    â€œNot that they’ve mentioned.”
    â€œSo it’s only you.”
    â€œI suppose.”
    Devereaux shrugged into his overcoat.
    â€œYou’re going out in this rain?”
    â€œI have to go to the office,” he said. “Why don’t you just stay inside?”
    â€œMaybe I will.”
    â€œAnd why not let your girls stay in?”
    She folded her arms and said, “They have work to do.”
    â€œWell, so have I,” Devereaux said. “I will see you tonight.”
    She just