It had taken years for her to get over Thibaut Cyr.
Her father had been quick to call her when Thibaut had abruptly joined the Navy and left, leaving behind his “free ride” at Tulane. She’d blamed herself for him giving up that opportunity, but she’d heard bits and pieces from old friends about how well he’d done in the Navy, that he’d become a SEAL, a hero. That he’d grown up to be one hell of a handsome man. They hadn’t been wrong.
His cousin, Laure Cyr, had never failed to mention the women who threw themselves at him whenever he visited. She’d remained friendly enough throughout the years, but Amelie had never been sure if Laure told her about the women to make her jealous or to reassure her Thibaut had moved on. Laure had had her own childhood crush on the handsome football player.
She moved back into the storeroom, rearranging inventory on the shelves, keeping things in the general vicinity of where her aunt always stored items, but tidying and discarding empty boxes and neatening the items. She gathered another stack of empty cartons to place in the garbage bin behind the shop and made her way to the back of the storage room and the door. However, when she pushed the bar to open the door, it refused to budge. So, she pushed harder but drew back her hand because the bar was red-hot.
That’s when she smelled smoke. Alarm shot through her, and she glanced downward. Smoke was filtering in around the edges of the door. She dropped the boxes, but then decided cardboard was the last thing she should set beside a smoldering door, so she bent and picked up the boxes then hurried back inside the shop to get to the phone and the fire extinguisher.
But when she stepped through the shop door, she detected movement in the corner of her eye. Before she could glance to the side, something hit the back of her head, and she crashed to her knees, the boxes crumpling beneath her.
Footsteps sped away. The doorbell tinkled. Dizzily, she got to her knees and crawled toward the counter. Now, a steady, growing crackling sounded, and smoke poured into the shop. She needed to get to the phone. No, she needed to get out the door. Tante Josette was going to be so upset if she didn’t find the fire extinguisher. Her muddled head couldn’t retain a thought long enough for her to act, so she knelt for a moment and felt the back of her head. When she held her hand in front of her face, she saw blood on her fingertips.
A crash sounded nearby, and alarm shot through her. Perhaps, her attacker had come back to finish the job. She crawled forward, reached for the edge of the counter, and hauled herself to her feet.
“Amelie!”
Recognizing the voice, she sobbed and teetered as she turned.
Strong arms caught her before she fell again. This time she didn’t need boxes to cushion her descent. Held high against his chest, she still reached toward the phone. “Have to call—”
He didn’t respond, and again, she thought she must have imagined it was Thibaut holding her, conjuring him in her dreams as she had so many times before.
Outside, she noted the streetlights were on, tourists undeterred, gawking as the man holding her set her on her feet and leaned her against the building. She moved her head back to look into his face, but the movement didn’t stop, and she felt herself falling again.
Chapter 3
Thibaut caught her as her eyelids slid closed. Panic, something he wasn’t accustomed to feeling, made him freeze for a second before he lifted her into his arms.
Sirens sounded. So did shouts—from the people fleeing the buildings adjacent to Josette’s shop.
A firetruck lumbered down the road, honking its horn to urge cars to move on, so that it could make its way down the narrow street.
“We can take her,” said a voice beside him, but he held her closer to his chest, unwilling to let her go. “Sir,” the voice said again.
Thibaut glanced sideways and noted the EMT’s uniform. Amelie needed help. His mind unstuck. “A gurney?” he bit out.
“Follow me.”
Bright lights strobed. Firefighters moved past him, lugging a fat hose. He placed her on a gurney but didn’t move back. The EMT began to work, listening to her heart, checking her vitals, then holding open her eyelids to flash a light.
She began to stir, lifting a hand to move away the tiny flashlight. Leaning on an elbow, she attempted to rise.
Thibaut reached out and placed his palm on her shoulder to push her back down. “Take it easy, Amelie. He’s just checkin’ you out.”
Her gaze shot to him. “Someone was in the store… He hit me.”
She reached back to touch her head, but the EMT moved his gloved fingers in the way and felt around her crown. “Yeah, you have a knot. Pupils look fine, but we need to get this x-rayed.”
Amelie tried again to push up from the gurney. “No, I have to stay. Josette’s going to have a mess to clean up.”
“Stop!” Thibaut ordered. “I’ll have someone go to Josette. You have to get checked out.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “You are not the boss of me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m bigger. If I say you’re going, you’ll go.”
She huffed, and her lips firmed into a straight line. “Fine.”
After she settled back, the EMT moved the gurney into the back of his ambulance then gave Thibaut a glance. “You comin’?”
Thibaut guessed he wanted him along to make sure she didn’t give him any more trouble. He climbed in and settled on the bench, close to her head, aware of the EMT shoving fluids into her vein while the ambulance pulled away. While Amelie was distracted, he reached into his pocket for his phone and dialed his brother Remy. It was time to bring in reinforcements.
“Yo, bro,” his brother said. “Long time, no hear.”
“I’m in New Orleans. Josette’s shop’s on fire. Amelie’s in an ambulance heading to…” He gave the EMT a sideways glance.
“Tulane Medical Center.”
“TMC,” he said to his brother.
“I’m at the station. I can be there—”
“Get to Josette’s. She needs to know what’s happening. Firetrucks are at the shop. Don’t know the damage yet. Amelie’s got a bump on her head. Someone set the fire and attacked Amelie. Have Josette sit tight.”
“You talk to the police on the scene?”
“No time. Will you let them know what went down?”
“Will do, but they’ll want a statement from her. I’ll fly by her shop to let them know. I’ll let Mama know she needs to inform the family. Josette’s gonna need help.” There was a pause, then, “So, how long you been home, bro?”
“Came in last night.”
Tsking sounded. “Maman is gonna take a switch to your ass for not callin’ her.”
“Mama will give you the stink eye for callin’ her maman; she’s not old.”
“I’ll take care of gettin’ la famille on it. You take care of your girl.”
Not my girl. “Thanks, Remy.”
“We’ll talk later about why you snuck into town.”
“I didn’t sn—” But the call ended. Thibaut grimaced.
“Your brother chew you out for not tellin’ him you’re here?” Amelie said, arching a brow.
Thibaut grunted. “How do you feel?”
Again, she frowned. “I’m fine. Just a headache. This is a waste of time.”
He ignored her irritation. “Tell me what happened.”
He listened as she described what transpired after he’d left—rearranging stock on the shelves, trying to open the back door to get rid of the boxes, the fire. Then her gaze slid away. “I rushed back into the shop. I don’t know, maybe to get the fire extinguisher or call for help… My mind was rushing from one thing to the next, when I heard a sound and felt something crash against my head. I went down.”
Thibaut frowned. “I smelled smoke after I left. Didn’t get far before I turned back to see where it was coming from. Saw smoke billowing behind the shop, so I came in to warn you to get out. I didn’t pass anyone, but he could have slid out when I found you.” He didn’t say that his wor
ld had narrowed to just the sight of her, lying crumpled over a pile of boxes.
She wrinkled her nose. “Guess I was pretty lucky you were there.”
He ignored her comment. “Josette have cameras in her shop?”
Amelie rolled her eyes. “She’s been there thirty years. Damn near blind for all that time. When her troubles started, I finally got her to concede we needed to update her security, but it’s summer, we got busy…” She shrugged. “I’m so glad she wasn’t there. She’s gonna be heartbroken over the damages. Did you see how bad it was?”
Thibaut shook his head. “Remy’ll get back to us. He’s on duty. Knowin’ him, even though arson isn’t his thing, he’ll be all over the detectives workin’ the scene.”
The ambulance slowed. Thibaut glanced through the window at the driver. The vehicle was pulling up to the curb next to a set of pneumatic doors.
Moments later, the back door of the ambo opened. Men in scrubs reached inside to accept the gurney as the EMT rolled it out then stepped down to the ground.
Thibaut jumped to the ground and followed as they wheeled Amelie into the emergency room and to a curtained cubicle, where they transferred her from the gurney to a bed on wheels.
He didn’t like seeing her eyes so wide or her skin so pale. The pinched look of her mouth told him she was getting ready to let loose another round of objections. So, he stepped close to her and reached for her hand. When her gaze cut to him, he shook his head.
Again, she rolled her eyes and gave a big sigh but didn’t make a single complaint as the EMT briefed the team and departed. Thibaut didn’t pay any attention to the people coming and going around them—just the warmth of her hand, the strength of the fingers squeezing his. Something inside him went quiet as he stood beside her. All around him, the noises, the smells, faded into the background. He had the stray thought that if Amelie had been anywhere near any of his missions, he wouldn’t have lasted a minute, because he couldn’t look away.
“Okay, we’re all set.”
Thibaut jerked toward the voice. A doctor in a white coat stood beside him.
“We’re sending her for a CT scan. You’ll need to head toward the waiting room.”
His shoulders bunched.
Amelie squeezed his hand. “Go. You’re the one who wanted this done.”
Yeah, but he didn’t like the idea of letting her out of his sight. Reluctantly, he let go of her hand. His gaze went to the doctor. “I wanna know when she’s back.”
The doctor cleared his throat but gave Thibaut a nod before moving toward another curtain. Thibaut watched as Amelie’s bed rolled out of sight then drew a deep breath, relieved his heart was settling back into its usual rhythm. Since he’d found her, he’d been a bundle of nerves, his heart rate kicking up, his muscles tense. As he moved down the corridor toward the waiting room, he gave himself an internal shake. He was never this way. Never distracted. So, Amelie had been hurt. He’d have been as concerned over any woman he’d found lying on a crumpled pile of boxes. He needed to get his shit together or someone might think he still had a thing for the woman.
He took a seat, crammed between an elderly woman in the middle of a coughing fit and a kid who stood in his seat, bouncing as he grasped the back of the chair. He tuned it all out.
What am I doing here? Not the ER. Here…New Orleans. He’d been surprised when his commander had so readily approved his leave. Maybe there was a “look” SEALs wore when they were ready to muster out. He’d shook his hand, told him to let him know if he needed more time. “Stay out of trouble,” he’d added with a half-smile.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he drew it out and looked at the screen. It was Remy again. He swept a finger across the screen.
“How’s Amelie?” his brother said without a greeting.
“They took her up for a CT scan.”
“Well, the fire was deliberately set. Someone pushed the dumpster against the back door, poured some gasoline into it, and lit a fire. That same someone must have come around the front of the shop and entered.”
“How bad’s the damage?”
“The back door and wall are toast. There’s smoke damage to the storage room, but the rest of the shop’s in good shape. I’ll call Henri and have him bring out some plywood to close the hole.”
Henri was his mother’s cousin. Being older, he’d been like an uncle to Thibaut when he was growing up. “We’ll also need a cleaning crew.”
“Mama’s already got it handled. She’s taking a casserole over to Josette’s right now.”
A smile tugged at Thibaut’s mouth. Everyone pitching in was just what friends and family did in southern Louisiana. The SEALs had their own version, but he knew a Cajun family was louder and more in your business, whether you wanted them there or not.
Dammit, he’d missed that. As annoying as his family could be, they were his blood.
Chapter 4
The door leading to the ER opened with a whoosh, and he glanced up to see the doctor motioning to him.
Thibaut pushed up from his chair and moved swiftly toward him. “Everything okay?” he asked when he drew near.
The doctor nodded. “No fracture. She might have a mild concussion, but I’m releasing her. Will you be caring for her?”
“What does she need?” he asked without hesitating, even knowing Amelie would likely have plenty to say.
“Rest. You’ll need to wake her up from time to time to make sure she wakens normally. She can take over-the-counter meds for any pain. But mostly rest. If you observe any changes, be sure to bring her back immediately.”
When he returned to the curtained treatment space, Amelie was seated on the side of her bed, wearing a fierce frown. “Told you this was a waste of time.”
“Doctor has orders. I’m going to make sure you follow them.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”
She blinked, and then her eyes narrowed.
He waited patiently as a woman carrying a clipboard appeared. Discharge instructions were signed.
“The doctor said you’d be observing her tonight…?” the woman said to Thibaut.
Amelie snorted.
He gave her a quelling glance and the woman with the clipboard a nod. “I’ll be with her. I’ll make sure she rests.”
And then they were free. He walked beside Amelie as she sat in a wheelchair. He’d assumed they’d have to hail a cab, but his brother stood beside his police sedan in the pickup zone.
Remy straightened as they drew near. “Amelie, hate the circumstances, but it’s always good to see you.” He held out his hand and helped her stand.
Amelie gave him a small smile. “Good to see you, too, Remy. Have you been by the shop?”
“I’ll give you the update once we’re on the road, cher.”
Thibaut felt a little shock of surprise at how affectionate the two seemed toward each other. In the early days after they’d broken up, Remy had spat on the ground every time her name was mentioned.
After Remy closed the passenger door for Amelie, he glanced at Thibaut and gave him a wink.
Thibaut climbed into the back seat but sat forward to lean toward the occupants in the front.
“Not gonna wear your belt?” his brother drawled.
Thibaut ignored him. “So, tell us what you learned.”
Remy began by telling her everything he’d already related to Thibaut about the dumpster fire. “The cops working the scene said they’ve been called to the shop before…?”
Amelie glanced away. “Tante Josette’s been gettin’ phone calls, threats, telling her she needs to sell up, get out. Then there was the robbery a month ago—”
“You’ve been held up?” Thibaut interrupted.
“Yeah, by a man wearing a mask and a hoodie. Demanded all our cash from the drawer, and then he ran.”
“Was he armed?”
“Held something pointy in his
pocket. I wasn’t going to argue. But he’s never been caught. And we’re the only shop on the strip to be hit.”
“If these incidents are related, do you have any ideas about who could be behind this?” Remy asked.
She shrugged. “Ray Glover at The Baron’s Crossroad has been pressuring my aunt to sell. Before I came back to help her, he was nicer about it. Guess he thought it was only a matter of time before she’d be forced to sell, her being older now. Still, I can’t imagine him burning the place down.”
“I’ll make sure the guys investigating the fire pay him a visit.”
They fell silent, and Thibaut glanced out the window at an oak-lined street. They were entering Old Metairie. Home. As they pulled up to Josette’s cottage-style house, Thibaut suppressed a groan. His mother’s car was parked on the side of the street.
“Think Maman is gonna be glad to see you?” Remy teased.
They all exited the car, Amelie more slowly. Thibaut helped her out, cupping her elbow as she stood. She swayed on her feet for a second then tried to shake him off.
He pinched her elbow. “Behave,” he muttered. “Don’t want you fallin’ on your ass.”
Amelie groaned. “They’re watching us through the window.”
“Your aunt can’t see.”
“No doubt your mama’s giving her a running commentary.”
He leaned closer. “What do you think she’s saying?”
“She’s probably already commented on the fact you were so quick to get to my door.”
“Was I?”
“I barely had my legs swung toward the door.”
“What else?”
“That you’re leaning toward me. Whispering.”
“She’s not close enough to know I’m whispering.”
She turned her head to give him a glare. “You want to argue with me about everything?”
“Maybe.”
As they drew nearer, the women disappeared from the window. The front door flew open. Thibaut’s mother moved too quickly for his liking down the steep wooden steps. “Thibaut!”
Hot SEAL, New Orleans Nights Page 2
