Cry Me a River Page 7

  "Have you called the cops?" she asked.

  I shook my head, "No. I just got here," I looked at my watch, "and I have to get changed. Jack and Jordie are coming by to pick me up. Jack's the Sheriff, does he count?" She stalked me to the bedroom closet where I flung potential dinner dresses and shoes toward the bed.

  "Are you sure this guy was following you?" Montana demanded.

  "No. I'm probably making too much of it."

  I thought about how the bike had been coming toward my house and… I'd seen it before. I sighed, "Yes."

  "Which is it—yes or no?"

  "Yes."

  "Then we call Jack." She handed me her phone. I rolled my eyes.

  "I have a phone," I said sarcastically.

  "Then use it," she said.

  "I'm going to see him in about fifteen minutes anyway."

  "Ah, the dinner you mentioned." She grinned as Katerina walked through the front door, looking like she hadn't just turned into a black panther and run wild through the swamp looking for a motorcycle. Black on black, check. Sunglasses, check.

  "Nothing?" Montana asked.

  Kat shook her head and looked at Tempe. "Where are we going?" She eyed the dress on the bed as I rummaged in the closet for dressier heels. She picked up a pair of pointy-toed black pumps. Naturally.

  "Dinner with Jack," said Montana. She pointed to the black shoes. "Not those; they're out of style. Throw them out."

  "Dinner… as in a date?" asked Kat.

  "Not really. Jordie invited me and she's all dressed up. Now if you two want to make yourselves useful, you'll get down here and help me find some shoes that halfway match that dress." I pointed at the knee length navy dress. Montana and Kat exchanged a look. "I'm not going to be dressed nearly good enough to accompany the little Mardi Gras princess and her daddy to dinner as it is. The least I can do is not put them to shame."

  "No worries there," said Montana. "You know the eyes that aren't on that lovely young lady will be on that exquisite hunk of man flesh."

  "Wow. Nice compliment. Thanks." I said, wanting to sink between the floorboards.

  Kat elbowed Montana. Montana glared. "Ow, Kat. You both know it's true." She smiled at me. "Just accept it. It takes the pressure off you to compete anyway, right?"

  I thought about that. "You're absolutely right, Montana. Maybe I'll just wear jeans."

  They both jumped in then to help me find something to wear that wouldn't embarrass them as my friends. In the end we chose a silk pantsuit I'd picked up for a song at Twice Around Consignment Shop, which was owned by a friend of ours in Hugo. The design had small teal and black feathers floating across a background of shimmering copper. The material made you want to run your hands over it. I was kinda hoping Jack might feel the urge to do just that.

  "Thanks, guys." Just before Montana went out the door, she said, "Don't forget to tell Jack about the motorcycle."

  "I won't. I promise."

  But I did.

  Chapter 10

  Tempe

  Wed. 7pm Welcome to our parish (now get lost)

  * * *

  Jordie chose Campbell Green for dinner on the north shore near Hugo, frequented by locals from Hugo and a few tourists. We met a couple from Michigan while waiting on our table who said they had chosen to vacation here because of Storm Lake's interesting history, and of course, the scenery.

  They held hands as she explained, "We got the brochure from the Louisiana Culture and Tourism Center. We love exploring the weird and unexplainable."

  Great. I looked at Jack, who'd pasted his Welcome to our parish politician's smile on his face.

  She asked about Jordie's dress, if it was a special occasion and that led to questions about Mardi Gras and Destiny, when—bless her heart—Jordie mentioned the parade the following Tuesday. I aimed them in the opposite direction of Destiny—Rome, where they could catch a Mardi Gras parade this Friday instead. One local Mardi Gras parade would probably be enough to divert their attention to other attractions and keep them away from our side of ol' Stormy.

  There are no signs in Destiny that say Tourists beware or Strangers keep out, but there aren't any hotels or B&Bs either, except for one, the Faerie Inn.

  For Faeries only.

  Believe it not, the Fae find our area quite lovely and rejuvenating. Occasionally, a traveler will complain to the Tourism Board about the lack of accommodations, but a complimentary night at Campbell Green or a tour of one of the studios in Larue usually shuts them up.

  Campbell Green is an extension of the work that Mystiq Campbell began with the farm and properties she inherited from a relative. She's making quite a name for herself as the caretaker of our environment, at least on the north shore of Storm Lake. Her farm is now mostly green energy or moving in that direction and the restaurant reflected that with natural fresh green displays on each table, CG candles and dishes created at their artisans' barn. It was a warm atmosphere with a scenic view of the water.

  Jordie and I had their famous marinated salmon roasted on a cedar plank. Jack ordered a chargrilled rib eye with all the trimmings. "Good choice, honey," he told Jordie after tasting her salmon.

  She smiled. "Melissa's mom said they had the best steak on this end of Storm Lake so I figured you'd like it."

  Jack stopped chewing and glanced over his shoulder like he expected the town gossip to pop up at the next table. "Well, she was right."

  "It's their special grade of beef, too," I said. "Everything they do is all organic and made or grown at Campbell Green."

  Jordie put her napkin down and said, "Can I be excused? I saw one of the girls on the Hugo basketball team in the front room."

  When she'd left, I asked, "What happened in New Orleans with the sketch artist?"

  Jack put his fork down and sipped his Coke. "After spending a couple hours with Crain, the forensics artist told Kirkwood, Crain was trying very hard not to give an accurate composite. At first Will said he couldn't remember, but when our guy pressed him his memory became very accurate. The artist was able to create a second sketch by the features Crain studiously avoided." He reached into his jacket and brought out a copy, placed it in front of me. "Recognize her?"

  The woman illustrated in the sketch was clearly Paige. "Am I biased because I can't stand her, or is that my brother's ex-girlfriend?"

  "Nope. It fits her picture ID. Now, we just need to convince him to talk. If he won't, we'll throw him in jail over night. Depending on what happens I'm not sure we can hold him for more than 24 hours."

  My shoulders slumped. "Have you heard anything about Lancelot?" I asked.

  "The club was the one Mrs. Karrakas ordered. It was confirmed by the manufacturer but that wasn't what made the old alligator sick." He sat back. "He's twenty-three by the way. The vets at LSU gave him an alligator style stomach scope and found a bottle that still retained traces of a powerful drug that would have killed a normal man, and it would have killed Sir Knight if we hadn't found him when we did."

  "Is he going to be okay?"

  "They think he'll make a full recovery. They're trying to get a read on the drug. That may take a while," Jack said.

  "What do you think this means?"

  Jack grimaced. "My theory is whoever killed Ray, gave him a dose of that drug and then bashed—used the club to make it look like the murder weapon, possibly to implicate you which would mean our killer isn't very smart; he's very desperate; or, they didn't want Ray identified."

  He shook his head. "Every piece in the puzzle means something. We're getting close." He squeezed my hand. "Have faith, okay?"

  "I'm trying. I'm just worried we're going to run out of time." I couldn't say the rest, if we haven't already, but Jack seemed to read my mind.

  "I can feel the noose closing. Hang in there." He tossed his napkin on the table and said, "It's a school night so we'd better collect Jordie and get back to Destiny."

  Tempe

  10pm Okay, I'll lie, and tell you it's a dog…

 
* * *

  When we got to Jack's I was surprised to see Beffie still in residence. He licked my hand and seemed happy to follow Jordie down the hallway to her room, never attempting to jump up on her gown. He behaved better than a real dog!

  "How do you like Beffie, Jack?"

  Jack looked down the hall then back at me. "Why, did you notice something?"

  I shrugged.

  "That dog is too good to be true. He almost never needs to go out. He doesn't chew on the furniture or crap in my shoes, and he's devoted to Jordie. If I didn't know better…"

  I smiled when I saw him come to a conclusion he couldn't have reached a month ago. "Don't tell me, he's some kind of Paramortal dog? Can't you people leave the animals alone."

  I laughed, ignoring the 'you people'. "Okay, I won't tell you, because he's a not a Paramortal. Not every non-human is a Paramortal."

  He just shrugged.

  "It's a fairy creature whose purpose is protecting households. It often takes the form of a hound, in Beffie's case, a big Catahoula Cur dog, because hey, that's the state dog. You don't like him? I was just thinking he's very well mannered."

  "Yeah," he scratched his head, "it just kind of spoils the good feeling of having a canine in the house. I'll get used to it. He looks and acts like a well-trained dog anyway." He cocked his head, eyes narrowed on mine. "Did you arrange that?"

  "You mean for Beffie to be here? No, that was Aurora's idea. Jordie was sick and needed a buddy; his previous job was done; and he was available. That's all I really know about it—him. It helps when you have to be out late, right?"

  "I agree." He looked over his shoulder and gave me the once over. He had that look in his eyes, a simmering desire. I felt a matching heat curl in my belly. "Would you like to stay for a cup of Irish coffee. I'll build a fire in the fireplace."

  He crowded his body close to mine and took my face in his hands. The kiss was a toe-curler, and I leaned into him. Was he intentionally distracting me from my worries? I smiled liking the plan.

  With his arms around my waist he walked me backwards through a doorway and into his office. He eased the door shut behind us guiding me toward the desk with his right arm around my waist. When my butt hit the edge, I leaned against it.

  "Jack… Jordie is…" With the moonlight streaming through the windows, his smile was bright.

  "Is in bed and we're not doing anything…yet."

  I sighed as his hands eased under my top to clasp my waist, one big hand gliding over my skin. "I can't tell where that silky material ends and your skin begins," he whispered into my ear, tonguing the hollow and nipping at my earlobe.

  His fingers trailed across my stomach, dipped into my navel. I smiled at the tickling sensation and squirmed. "Ticklish?" he chuckled.

  My hands went to his sides, playing over the ridges of muscle. I could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt. I tugged it free of his pants and put my hands on those fine abs. His lips trailed kisses down the side of my face and neck, moved lower as my head knocked against the wall and I gasped, "Jack."

  A sound of pleasure escaped him as he found my breasts and cupped them. "Shh. You'll wake Jordie."

  Taking one of my hands, he guided it to the bulge behind his zipper and pressed it there. His tall, wide shouldered silhouette blocked the moonlight when he leaned down to kiss me again. Then his arm tightened around my waist pulling me up to him.

  He tasted so good. It felt right being in his arms, kissing him and making love to him. I ached for that to happen. I moaned again and he stopped kissing me, the touch on my breast easing. He placed his hands on my knees spreading them so he could step between, his erection bumping urgently against my pelvic bone.

  I reclined against the wall looking up at him, trying to make out his expression. Reaching for my blouse, he unbuttoned the last button, then the next. I felt air hit my skin when he separated the material and leaned over to place kisses on each of my shoulder blades.

  His head went lower, his tongue dipping past the rim of my bra, over the tops of my breasts, then, he tugged the cups down, freeing them. I heard his breath just before he put his mouth on my nipple suckling gently while his other hand played with its mate.

  I arched up to his mouth. I wanted more. I moaned again and the suckling stopped. He whispered softly, "You aren't going to be a quiet lover are you, sweetheart." His face peered down at me but I couldn't make out his features. "I wouldn't want you to be." He kissed me once more, a deep passionate declaration of what he promised for later.

  Reluctantly he released my lips, nipping at the bottom one before putting his hand gently over my mouth. He listened briefly, then removed his hand and said quietly, "I guess we'll have to continue this another time." He thrust against me once, took a deep breath, re-situated my bra and proceeded to fasten the buttons on my blouse. I laid my head on his chest, arms wrapped loosely around his waist, smiling, content to feel his heart thumping against my cheek.

  "Thank you for what you did for Jordie." He tilted my chin up and looked down into my face. "You and Aurora gave my baby something she's missed; the touch only a woman can give. I know it's important, but I'm out of my depth with the girly things."

  "It was a pleasure for us as well, Jack. She was perfection in that outfit wasn't she?"

  "Beautiful, but… so grown up. I've only had her with me for a few years now and she's maturing so fast it's scary."

  He paused. "She reminded me tonight that she won't be dependent on me much longer. She wants to 'carry her weight'." His sigh was heavy and laden with parental regret as his head touched mine. "I'm not ready for her to grow up, and I don't want her to feel the weight of responsibility on her sixteen year old shoulders. Dammit. If…" he dropped his hands and stepped back, running his hand through his hair.

  "I'm not saying what you went through or did for your brother was wrong, but I hate that you had to carry such a heavy load. It wasn't right. I shouldn't judge though. It sounds like things are different for you—your—people."

  I sighed. There it was again. That separation between his world and mine. "I don't know how 'things are', Jack. All I know is I was a happy little girl with two parents that loved me and a cute little brother I adored, and suddenly, my family was torn apart, and I had no choice but to grow up and become River's mother and father. It was not an easy task for a young teenager, Paramortal or human, to take over River's care. I don't know about other Paramortal families. What I do know is that you are a caring father; Jordie is a happy teenager who knows she's loved and it's her choice to be responsible and contribute, or not. I don't think you have a thing to worry about. She's enjoying school, basketball and her new job. Sounds like you've given her a pretty full life. I think you deserve a pat on the back."

  His body shifted so I couldn't see his face. "I'm sorry, Tempe. I didn't mean—"

  I leaned across the desk and flipped on the lamp. This was a conversation for the light. "I'm not offended, Jack. I'm finally growing up myself, I guess. I denied my heritage, rejected it." There, I'd said it. I didn't hunch my shoulders or pretend I hadn't meant it, and Jack seemed to really be listening.

  "For the first time, I feel like I have a purpose and choices. Maybe I always have and just didn't realize it. But before, I didn't know what my options were. I just realized today that I may actually see my family together again." I cleared my throat, and took a slow breath. "It's almost incomprehensible. But nothing is as important right now as saving my brother."

  "I want that for you, Tempe. All of it, and I promise to do everything I can to make it happen."

  That was saying a lot considering my family never even existed to him before yesterday. For Jack, the last two weeks would have been like going to bed during Top Gun and awakening to Supernatural.

  I studied this man who had come so far so fast. "Thank you, Jack. I know you mean it," I said brushing the wrinkles from my shirt. I eased off the desk. "I probably should go. I have to work in the morning—"

  "I'm
sorry we haven't turned up anything. With nothing concrete to go on, it's a lot of grunt work, driving the streets, passing out flyers and pounding on doors."

  "Please promise me you'll call immediately if you hear something."

  "I promise," and he sealed it with a deep pulse-pounding kiss.

  Chapter 11

  Tempe

  Thursday, 1pm If it sweats, it's not a toy

  * * *

  Barbara called, apologizing profusely, but said her daughter had kept her up all night with a stomach virus. She promised she would take over as soon as she got back from the pediatrician's if I still wanted her. I didn't want to be tied down so I told her we'd swap out around lunchtime.

  When I arrived at work, the mail center was a nightmare with tubs of junk mail stacked in the aisles and beside mail stations. We're not supposed to call the oversized commercial flyers junk, but I am of a mind to call masses of paper ads that end up on the highways, get wadded up and used to light fires and accumulate in mailboxes "trash". So fire me.

  I piled everything into my truck, yes, even the trash, and took to the street. The morning went very slowly since I had to stop frequently and refill the extra bundle at my side with flyers to be placed alongside each customer's regular mail. I was so used to the physical process that it still gave me too much time to think… and feel guilty, that I was working, and not out searching. The last time I'd talked to Jack that's what it sounded like his deputies were doing.

  I passed by the Spanish mission on the way to Enchanted Glen and heard one toll of the bell. The old stone church was no longer in use except on the local tour and for ringing each of the daylight hours. What if he was in there? What if there's a house or an abandoned store, somewhere I pass by everyday and River's there, but menori can't sense his presence?

  That thought made me want to turn the truck around and beginning at the first house on the block, knock on every door until I'd covered the parish, the entire state if necessary. But I knew that wasn't physically possible. Besides, my customers were aware of River's situation. They'd stepped up big time, distributing flyers, joining the search teams. I'd bet my brother's life he wasn't being held anywhere on my route.