by Robin Caroll
“Except Mr. Orlov noticed the scratches in the pictures and figured things out.”
“I am not proud of what I have done. I did the only thing I could think of to help someone, then everything else I had to do to keep that secret. I never thought it would turn out like this. Not with so many dead.” She let out a slow breath. “What happens now?”
“According to my captain, an official representative from Liechtenstein is already on their way. When they get here, they will take you and Mr. Orlov and the tiara back to your country.” Beau closed his notebook and slipped it into his pocket.
“What about Luca?” Katerina asked.
“He committed a murder of an American on American soil. Your country supports our right to hold him accountable. He is officially charged. An embassy legal representative is working with our district attorney to work out a plea arrangement so there won’t be a trial.”
Addy could empathize with the princess only so far. There were three people dead and one in custody, all because of the choices Katerina had made.
In that moment, Addy realized it was much like Willie’s situation. He had made choices because he had felt he had no alternative and needed to help someone else. While no one had died, crimes against others had still been committed.
Addy looked at Beau, understanding completely now why he’d had to arrest Willie. It was never a matter of what he wanted to do but what he was obligated to do.
What was right.
33
Beau
“We just got a hit on the BOLO on Lissette Bastien.” Marcel raced to his and Beau’s desks and set down his mug, sloshing coffee over the lip.
“Where?” Beau automatically stood and reached to open the drawer securing his gun.
Marcel mimicked his movements. “Congo Square.”
Going back to her voodoo roots.
Beau holstered his gun and tossed the car keys to Marcel. “Let’s go.”
Once in the car and on the way, Marcel filled in more details. “Patrol spotted her car parked in the area. As per our instructions, uniformed officers were removed from the area. Two undercover cops verified her with a visual ID in the square itself.”
Congo Square was an open space located in the southern corner of Louis Armstrong Park, just across from Rampart Street, north of the French Quarter, and had a rich history worthy of its belonging to New Orleans. Back in 1724 Code Noir was implemented, which gave enslaved Africans Sundays off. Even so, there were no laws giving them the right to congregate in public. Despite being constantly threatened, they often gathered in remote and public places. On Bayou St. John at a clearing called la place congo, these groups congregated.
In 1817 the mayor of New Orleans restricted any gathering of the enslaved to that one location of Congo Square—or, informally, Place Congo, the “back of town.” Today, local voodoo practitioners still considered Congo Square a spiritual base, many still gathering at the Square for voodoo rituals and rites.
It was only natural that Lissette would run back to the place where she felt she could blend in. Back to her voodoo upbringing.
Marcel stopped the car behind the unmarked police cruiser, outside the arched entrance to Armstrong Park. One of the undercover cops leaned against the trunk, smoking a cigarette.
In character.
Beau and Marcel headed toward him, taking notice of the people around them, watching.
“Hey, you.” Beau approached.
The undercover threw down his smoke and straightened. “I wasn’t doin’ nothin’.”
“It’s okay.” Beau stepped closer. “Where is she?” he whispered.
Holding up his arms, the undercover whispered under his breath, “Back where all the voodoo stuff is being traded.” He lifted his voice. “I don’t want no trouble.” He took two steps, then jogged off away from the park’s entrance.
Beau and Marcel stepped under the weathered white arch with Armstrong spelled out in lights. They passed the old and gnarly live oak trees on the right, staying on the path past the center of Congo Square to the back part where cops usually didn’t breach.
Lissette had limited her escape routes by showing up here, as most of the park was enclosed with black wrought-iron fencing. Maybe she hadn’t thought she’d be seen or identified. As Beau spotted her, he could see why she might think that.
Her long hair had been chopped into a buzz cut, only about two inches long. While most women might not be able to pull off such a look, it made those striking and unforgettable eyes of hers stick out even more. She looked almost other worldly.
Those eyes locked on him. Beau froze. Lissette froze.
Not Marcel. He moved with the speed of a jaguar until he was beside her. “Hello, Lissette. We’ve been looking for you.”
“So I hear.” She didn’t run, but straightened and stared at Marcel.
Unfrozen by her turning away from him, Beau pulled out his handcuffs. “Lissette Bastien, you’re under arrest for the abduction of Adelaide Fountaine.”
Lissette smiled as Marcel rattled off the Miranda rights while Beau handcuffed her. “You think you have a chance with her? You’re wrong. She’ll be Dimitri’s wife. I know this. The spirits have told me.” She cackled as Beau walked her through the square.
“I suggest you utilize your right to be silent,” Beau ground out.
She only laughed again. “Oh, she’s got both you and Dimitri so wound, but I know things. The spirits have told me she will marry Dimitri. Why do you think I took the actions I did? Because she’ll be Mrs. Pampalon.”
Everything in Beau ached.
“Shut up, Lissette.” Marcel jerked her out of the park and toward the back seat of their cruiser. “Nobody wants to hear your ramblings.”
She glanced over her shoulder at Beau. “He does. He’s in love with her, but she’s just playing with him. Or maybe she does love you, but she’ll choose Dimitri over you.”
Marcel shoved her in the back seat, then slammed the door. “Don’t you listen to her, man. Don’t let her get inside your head. That’s all she’s trying to do.”
“I know. I won’t.” But her words stung. Because they were mirrors of Beau’s own concerns? The fear that kept him awake at night?
“Why don’t you tell us what your big plan was? You had Willie abduct Adelaide, but then what? He wouldn’t have killed her for you, you know.” Marcel slipped behind the steering wheel and started the engine.
“No, but the spirits had told me that all I had to do was get her someplace out of the way and leave her to starve to death. Kind of fitting that I had to fight for every meal I had, and she would be the one who ended up starving.”
The voodoo stuff really had her mind messed up.
Beau buckled his seat belt as Lissette started in again. “Doesn’t it bother you? That she’ll break your heart just so she can get what she really wants? The hotel?”
He wanted to scream that Addy wasn’t like that, but he wouldn’t give even a little credence to Lissette’s rantings.
Marcel, on the other hand, was a great instigator. “You know, Lissette, your spirits really should have tipped you off that you didn’t need to do anything. Claude managed to mess things up all by himself.”
Beau nodded and glanced into the back seat. “Yeah, if you’d done nothing, the forced-heirship laws would have given you at least a fourth of the Pampalon estate, including the hotel.”
“But you just couldn’t wait.” Marcel turned the corner and let out a chuckle. “Your own greed caused you to get nothing. Zero. Nil. Nada.” He glanced at Lissette in the rearview mirror. “Oh, you don’t have anything to say now, huh?”
“Marcel Taton, may you—”
He slammed on the brakes, and her shoulder hit the back of the front seat. “Ouch. You jerk. That hurt.”
“Gee, I’m sure sorry about that.” Marcel eased back on the accelerator. “Maybe you should talk to some different spirits. I don’t think the ones you’ve been talking to like you very much. They sur
e haven’t seemed to help you out much lately.”
Beau shook his head. “I can’t believe Dimitri and Addy took up for you. They had your back, and you do this?”
Lissette let out a muffled scream.
Beau turned his back to her. “Whatever, Lissette. You’re going to jail for what you did to Addy, and to Willie. You’re just back to where you started—with no one on your side. Only this time? This time you did it all yourself.” He turned back to the front of the car, ignoring the frustrated noises coming from her.
Marcel winked at him as he pulled into the precinct’s parking lot. Beau forced himself to smile back, but his heart wasn’t in it. Sure, Lissette was bat-crap crazy, but there was no denying Addy and Dimitri had feelings for each other.
The question was how did her feelings toward Beau compare?
Addy
Why was she so nervous?
“You look beautiful without even trying, so stop fussing over your hair.” Tracey laid across Addy’s bed, watching her stress in the mirror.
“I’m just . . .” She shook her head and sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know. Nervous. Excited. Crazy.”
“Well, that last one I’ve known for years.” Tracey laughed and sat upright. “I know. It’s a date—a real date. Naturally you’re nervous.”
Addy stood back up and checked out her reflection for the umpteenth time. “Yeah. I want to just crawl in bed and bury myself under the covers.”
“Girl, come on. Yeah, you’re nervous, but this is Beau. Beau. You know, the guy you’ve known like forever. You share supper with him practically every Thursday night at your dad’s. You think his cat, Columbo, is the coolest feline ever.”
Addy smiled at her best friend in the mirror. “I do love that cat, and he is amazingly cool, even if he is fat.”
“See. This is fine. Besides, he’s probably as nervous as you are.”
“Do you think?”
Tracey smiled. “I do.”
A loud knock rapped on the door.
“He’s here.” Addy’s eyes widened as her heart kicked up a gear. “I’ll get it. You—” Tracey stood and pointed at her. “—don’t throw up.” She headed into the living room.
The door opened, and Addy heard Tracey talking, but she didn’t hear Beau’s voice. Had something come up? She left the bedroom to find Tracey shutting the door. She held a huge vase of flowers. Tulips.
“These are for you.” Tracey set down the massive arrangement on the kitchen counter.
Addy grabbed the card and opened the envelope. Her heart fluttered as she read the message: Be Responsible—D
She couldn’t stop herself from smiling.
“Are they from Beau?” Tracey studied her expression.
“Um. No. They’re from Dimitri.” She handed her the card.
“What does this mean?” Tracey asked.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
“He’s here.” Addy grabbed the flower arrangement and shoved it into Tracey’s hands. “Take these into my room, please.” She turned and waited until Tracey had disappeared before opening the door.
Beau stood there in a pair of worn jeans and a button-down shirt that either looked new or had just come from the cleaners. His hair was still damp from the shower, and his cologne . . . Oh, mercy, but he smelled good.
“Hi.”
Tracey was right—he was as nervous as she was. That knowledge let her breathe again. “Hi.”
“Ready?”
She nodded as Tracey walked out of the bedroom. “Hey, Beau.”
“Hi, Tracey.”
“Where are y’all going tonight?”
Addy shot her best friend a look. “You don’t have to answer that, Beau. It’s none of her business. Lock up when you leave, Trace.” They turned toward the door.
“I will,” Tracey said. “And Addy . . .”
Addy looked back over her shoulder at her best friend. “What?”
“Be responsible.”
34
Beau
Addy had gotten more beautiful in the span of a few hours, if that was even possible.
Beau opened the passenger’s door of the Charger for her. He didn’t get to take his personal car out as much, but he loved the Dodge. Had spent many a weekend working to fix up the old muscle car.
“So where are we off to?”
Beau started the car and eased out of the hotel’s lot. “I thought it was a nice evening for a picnic.”
Her whole face lit up. “That sounds perfect.”
They arrived at the Fly, and he grabbed the packed lunch and blanket from the trunk and gently led Addy to a spot under a tree looking out over the Mississippi River. The sun had just set over the river, and a few of the big boats, their lights making them seem more romantic than they really were, maneuvered through the currents.
“Oh, Beau, this is lovely.” She settled on the blanket he’d spread out, smiling at him as if he was the only man on the planet. He lit the two fat candles in their mosaic holders, setting them in the middle of the blanket, and the space was lit enough for them to see, but still gave the ambience of intimacy. Just like he’d planned.
She made him feel like a million bucks—that hadn’t changed— but his mind kept going back to what Lissette had said. Yes, he knew it was her playing mind games with him, but the sentiments still made him wonder. He shook off the doubts that threatened to overtake him. This was his and Addy’s time, and no one would intrude. Beau refused to allow it.
“I’m actually really hungry.” Addy grinned.
“Is that a hint? Well, your wish is my command.” He opened the big basket he’d stuck the take-out in.
“Is that Broussard’s? Oh, that’s one of my favorite places.” Addy’s face looked like a kid’s on birthday morning.
Beau chuckled. “Yes, I know.” He handed her a container. “Your truffle chicken breast with wild mushrooms, artichokes, and herb-roasted potatoes.”
“I’m in heaven.” She grabbed the plastic fork and took a bite. “I think I could eat Broussard’s every day and never get tired of it.” She nodded at his container. “What are you having?”
“I’m having the chicken and andouille gumbo. Want a bite?” He held the bowl out so she could see.
“I do. It all smells so divine.”
He dipped his spoon, filled it, then gently eased it into her mouth. It dripped just a little as he pulled the plastic spoon from her lips. Without thinking, he wiped her bottom lip with his thumb. She swallowed, then he did. He couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth. He felt flushed all over.
Beau set his bowl down, then eased the container from Addy’s hands without breaking eye contact. He slipped his hands on either side of her face and dug his fingers into her hair.
She parted her lips just a breath of a space. He couldn’t wait any longer.
Beau dipped his head and put his lips on hers. Slowly. Softly.
Addy leaned her head back and wrapped her hands around his neck. He deepened the kiss, gripping two handfuls of her hair. She tasted like salty sunshine and truffle oil.
Untold emotions flooded his senses as she kissed him back. He let go of her hair and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer to him. Close enough that he could feel her heart beating. Its erratic pounding matched his.
He gently ended the kiss and pulled back a fraction, resting his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes.
“You are quite the woman, Adelaide Fountaine.” His words were a little breathy, but he really couldn’t help that.
She smiled, tilting his world even more. “And you’re quite the man, Beauregard Savoie.”
He kissed the tip of her nose, then released her, putting a foot or so between them. “We’d better eat before it gets cold.”
She nodded and picked up her fork, but he recognized the flush across her face. She’d been just as affected by that kiss as he had, and it had rocked him to his very core.
Somehow, knowing that he had as much of an effect on her
as she did on him, well, it made him more confident and relaxed. He handed her a water bottle and set his on the blanket before handing her a biscuit.
Addy took another bite of her chicken and made little noises of appreciation as she chewed. “This is delicious.”
“Well, save room for dessert.”
“What do you have?”
He grinned. “Also from Broussard’s, we have Creole Bread Pudding with Bananas Foster sauce and Chantilly cream.”
“Oh, you are spoiling me.” She stabbed a potato and popped it into her mouth.
“You deserve to be spoiled, Addy.”
She laid her palm against the side of his face. “So do you, Beau. So do you.”
He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm, then let it go with a chuckle. “I have another surprise for you.”
“Aside from the bread pudding?” She opened her water bottle and took a drink.
He reached into the basket and pulled out the gift bag the lady at the store had done up for him.
“A present?” Her eyes lit up. “You know I love presents.”
He chuckled. “I know.”
Pushing aside the tissue paper, she pulled out the black traveler’s notebook journal and pen set she found. She ran her hands over the smooth leather. “It’s beautiful. I love it.” She locked gazes with him. “Thank you, Beau.”
“I thought maybe you could, I don’t know, write some of your poems in there.”
Her eyes shimmered with moisture as she pulled the journal to her chest, hugging it. “Thank you. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
She leaned forward, pulling him in for a kiss.
If the good Lord was to call him home at that exact moment, Beau would have died the happiest man ever.
Addy
Oh, Beauregard Savoie was full of surprises tonight. A picnic at dark by the Mississippi with some of her favorite foods, including the dessert, and a journal for poetry. None of that was as much of a surprise as how amazing she felt being with Beau in a romantic way.
And the man could kiss like nobody’s business! Mercy, but he could make her forget everything.
