Caught by Surprise

by Deborah Smith

  “Natty found out that Bo was lettin’ chemical companies set up toxic waste dumps without goin’ through the state environmental protection boys,” Brig explained. “Takin’ payoffs for it.”

  “He was putting these awful ol’ dumps outside little mountain towns that I love,” Natty said emphatically. “I have relatives up thataway. I had to do somethin’.”

  “So she decided to blow the whistle on Bo,” Brig added.

  Natty inhaled sadly. “And I was afraid of what he’d do—his family’s been in Tennessee politics since before the Civil War. You don’t mess with a man like Bo Halford. So Brig said he’d go with me when I put my cards on the table.”

  “How did you end up hitting him?” Millie asked Brig, her tone incredulous.

  “He told Natty that she’d never get enough evidence to hurt him, and he’d hurt her plenty if she tried.”

  Natty gestured excitedly. “And that’s when ol’ Brig popped him. Right in the nose! Bo took a swing back, and Brig punched him in the breadbasket. Bo went down like a felled tree! It was beautiful!”

  Millie stared at Natty Brannigan with growing admiration. Under that debutante exterior lurked a tiger’s heart.

  The singer looked at Brig sadly. “But Brig ended up in jail, despite everything his people and my people could do.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I still shudder when I think of what would have happened if we hadn’t got you transferred to the jail down here.”

  “What?” Millie asked, amazed. She gazed at Brig wide-eyed. “I thought your lawyers arranged the transfer to avoid bad publicity.”

  “Bad publicity and accidents.” He shrugged.

  “Accidents caused by Bo Halford’s people in a Nashville jail,” Natty explained grimly. “Somebody would have probably killed him.” She teared up again. “Somebody still might try. I think Bo’s tiyin’ to warn me, and Lord knows what he’d do to you if you go back to Nashville before the federal people get done.”

  Millie’s train of thought had stopped at the words, “Somebody still might try.” Trembling, she stood up. “You’re in danger,” she told Brig. “I’m definitely going to Nashville with you.”

  He groaned. “I don’t know if I’m in danger. I might not be.” He rose and went to her, grasping her shoulders tightly. “But since I’m not sure anymore, the last thing I’m gonna do is put you in the middle. You’ll stay here.”

  “No.”

  “Yep, Melly. For the time bein’.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asked desperately. “Wait for the man to try something?”

  “That’s all I can do until the investigation’s done.”

  “What investigation?”

  “Federal boys are workin’ on the case. That’s why Bo’s harassin’ Natty. He’s startin’ to squirm.”

  “Then you stay here. There’s nothing you can do.”

  Brig’s jaw tightened. “I’ve got business to take care of. And I’m not used to hidin’ like a scared rabbit. Besides, it’s not likely that the mangy bastard’ll try anything serious.”

  Millie touched her chest tentatively. Her heart was trying to pound a dent in her ribcage. She felt cold and terrified in a strange way she’d never experienced before.

  “Melisande?” Brig asked with concern.

  She gazed at him wretchedly. “I’m frightened for your sake.”

  His eyes melted with tenderness. He took her in his arms and swayed gently, holding her. “You stay here and don’t worry,” he whispered. After a moment he said, “And I think Natty ought to stay with you. It’s a good, safe place for her to be. There now. You can protect Natty.”

  “I love being protected,” Natty added quickly. “If you don’t mind the company.”

  Millie drew back and looked at Brig with desperate adoration. “I don’t know if I can let you go and not follow,” she murmured.

  “A little while ago you were ready to let me go alone,” he reminded her gently.

  “I didn’t think you were in danger then.”

  “No more worries that you’ll embarrass me?”

  She shook her head fervently. “I don’t care about anything but keeping you alive.”

  He made a soft sound of bittersweet joy and kissed her forehead. “Bo Halford’s not in a killin’ mood. He just wants to have some fun, Melly.”

  “Then why can’t I go with you?”

  Brig’s eyes darkened with exasperation. “If he hurt you, I’d mangle him. And then I’d spend the rest of my life in a jail. One not half so kindly as Paradise Springs, eh?”

  Millie grasped his shirt front. Her anxiety quieted suddenly, replaced by absolute, deadly calm. “If anything happens to you, Halford won’t get away from me.”

  The silence that followed was charged with emotion. The only sound was the soft catch of Natty’s breath as she watched Brig and Millie. “God,” she prayed out loud in utter sincerity, “Please let me find somebody to love that much.”

  Nine

  Brig realized how much he missed Millie after only a few days back in Nashville. He was holding Rucker and Dinah McClure hostage just to hear them talk about her. Rucker barely stifled a yawn over his bourbon.

  “I hate to mention this, but it’s getting late,” Dinah interrupted gently. She glanced around the swank Nashville restaurant to which Brig had invited them as soon as he heard that Rucker was in town on a book promotion tour. “It’s just us and the waiters. And the waiters are forming a vigilante committee to kick us out.”

  “Come on out to my house,” Brig urged.

  Rucker rubbed a hand across his thick auburn mustache and chuckled. “Friend, I’ve told you every true story I know about Millie, and a few I made up.”

  Brig groaned and leaned back in his chair. He felt awkward in his black sport coat, tan slacks, crisp shirt, and tie. It wasn’t that he didn’t like dressing up on occasion—it was just that he wanted to be back in the Florida heat, wearing little or nothing, with Millie.

  “It’s not fair,” he grumbled lightly. “I’ve written dozens of songs about the hell of bein’ lonely. Nobody warned me that they were true.”

  “Takes a special love to make the loneliness hurt so bad,” Rucker noted.

  Brig watched as he reached over and squeezed his wife’s hand. She gave her husband a look that said he was going to get extra-special treatment back in their hotel room tonight. Brig succumbed to an ache of pure envy.

  “Did you know that Millie likes children?” Dinah offered. “She says they’re the only people smaller than she is.”

  Brig nodded. “We’re gonna have about a dozen.”

  Rucker propped his chin on one hand. “I don’t think she likes them that much.”

  “I’ll compromise. Maybe have two or three of our own, then adopt a bunch.”

  “Good plan,” Dinah noted wryly.

  “I can imagine Melisande holdin’ our baby,” Brig said hoarsely. He raised one big hand as if he were touching someone visible only to him. Dropping the hand atop his bourbon glass, he brought it to his mouth and downed the contents in one swallow. “Lord, I’ve turned sentimental. Sorry.”

  “I think Millie’s very lucky,” Dinah told him, smiling.

  “Why don’t you bring her to Birmingham next weekend?” Rucker asked. “When you do that big charity concert. Your troubles with the state senator wouldn’t stretch to another state, would they?”

  “Maybe not.” Brig thought for a minute, gauging the safety factors. “I could hire a couple of security people to stick with Melisande the whole time. Maybe. Yeah.” Revitalized, he grinned. “I set you two free. You’ve cheered me up.”

  The three of them left the restaurant and stood amid the glitter of downtown, waiting for a cab. Brig glanced sideways as two hulking men in denim and tractor caps stepped from the shadows of a nearby building. He could tell that they were headed straight for him. Autograph seekers, most likely, but with an air of menace that caused his body to tighten in defense.

  “Thought it
was him,” one man said to the other.

  “Yeah, it’s him.”

  “Hello, mates,” Brig said, as they swaggered to a stop less than an arm’s length away. “I’m him.”

  “We just want to tell you that you are one ugly son of a—”

  “I got a lady here,” Rucker interrupted, his tone low and lethal.

  They leered at Dinah. “How much does a classy one like her cost?”

  “Oh, wonderful,” Dinah murmured in mild disgust. She grabbed Rucker’s arm as he stepped in front of her, his fists clenched. “You can’t sign books with your knuckles bandaged.”

  Brig angled in front of them both. He felt the cool flow of adrenaline into his muscles. It was always like this before a fight. “You blokes got business with me, not with my friends. Say what you got to say.”

  His neutral remark provoked a long stream of obscenities from one man, while the other grinned. Brig waited with a patient look on his face, while he calculated which man would be easier to slug first.

  “You boys aren’t happy,” he told them succinctly.

  “What you gonna do about it?”

  “Before I kick your butts, maybe you could let me in on the reason. Man wants to fight me, he’s usually got good cause.”

  “We don’t need no cause.”

  A small alarm went off in Brig’s mind. He smiled, while recognition gnawed at his stomach. “You boys wouldn’t be workin’ for Senator Halford, would you? ’Cause he knows I have to be on me best behavior until I get off parole. I just remembered that I could go back to jail if I was to lose me temper.”

  “Dón’t know no Senator Halford,” one man said too quickly. Brig’s eyes caught the flicker of caution in his face.

  “If you want to fight me, you’ll have to do it without my help.” Brig held up both hands. “Go ahead. My friends here’ll tell the police exactly what happened.”

  “Aw, to hell with you. You’re crazy.”

  The men turned and left quickly. Brig watched them until they disappeared around a comer. “Crazy like a fox,” he muttered. He turned around to find Rucker and Dinah gazing at him in concern. “No worries, folks.” But his voice was grim. “Let’s not mention this to Melisande, eh?”

  “Are you still going to bring her to Birmingham?” Dinah asked.

  “No way.” The night turned ten shades darker, and loneliness closed in on him again.

  Millie pulled the reclining chair upright with a decisive movement. “I’m going to that concert in Birmingham,” she announced flatly.

  From her place on the couch, where she was painting her toenails a muted burgundy color, Natty’s hand jerked, and she smeared burgundy across her instep. “You are not.”

  “Raybo knows you’re here. He’ll send Suds or Charlie over to check on you.”

  “I’m not worried about me, honey.”

  “I’ll be fine. The problems are in Tennessee, not Alabama.”

  “Ever hear of little ol’ cars, trains, and airplanes?” Natty drawled. “Problems can travel.”

  Millie got up and paced. “I can’t stand it. Brig’s so damned cheerful on the telephone. Something’s wrong!”

  “It won’t be made right by you sashayin’ off to see him. He’ll be upset.”

  “At first he’ll be upset. Then he’ll relax.”

  “Mercy, girl, you don’t give up.”

  “Will you help me? This concert—it’s a formal thing. He’s going to wear some sort of tuxedo. What should I take to wear?”

  “An armored body suit.”

  “Be serious, Natty!”

  “You’re determined?”

  “I’m determined.”

  Natty sighed. Then she picked up a phone on the coffee table and punched so many buttons that Millie knew the call was long distance. “Tito, honey, this is Natty. Sorry to call you at home, but I need an itsy bitsy favor. Can you ship some dresses to me tomorrow? Hmmm, just a loan. Lord, yes, I’ll mention your name on my cable show next month. Send cocktail type and everyday stuff too. Sexy but not indecent, honey. Street length. No, they’re for a friend.” Natty cupped her hand over the phone. “What size are you?”

  “Four petite.”

  “I hate your little ol’ doll-sized guts.” Natty put the phone to her mouth again. “Tito, four petite. And send accessories, honey.”

  “I need purses big enough to hold a handgun.”

  “Tito, this is for a Little Miss Rambo. Make sure she can pack a pistol in the purses. Hmmm? Honey, don’t. Don’t get hysterical. I know Italian designers get hysterical easy, but you calm down. I’ll explain later.”

  Millie listened with quiet fascination. Natty gave the hysterical Tito her address, soothed his nerves for a few minutes, and hung up.

  “Thanks, Nat. I owe you one.”

  “Honey, I just want you to be happy. When Brig sees you in one of Tito’s dresses, he’ll be so dazzled he’ll temporarily forget to paddle your fanny.”

  Brig spent all morning and most of the afternoon rehearsing with his band. Since the concert wasn’t until Saturday, he now had a long Friday night ahead of him in a luxurious but lonely hotel room. The only bright spot was the phone call he planned to make to Florida, just as soon as he took a bath. He ordered a sandwich from room service, unlocked the door, and ran a tub full of steaming water.

  Twenty minutes later he heard someone knocking. “Bring, it in and leave it on the bed!” he yelled. Brig dumped shampoo on his hair and shut his eyes.

  His head was covered in lather by the time he heard, “I’ll put it on the bed if you like, but I’d rather put it in the tub.”

  The voice. Low, husky, female, with more than a hint of the south. Brig slung soap from his face. “Melisande.” She stood in the bathroom door, smiling tentatively while her eyes roamed over him with desperate pleasure. “What are you doin’ here?” he demanded gruffly. Then, in amazement, “Strewth!”

  He’d finally noticed that she looked different. Millie proudly glanced down at the swirling silk dress she wore. The green color matched her eyes. Delicate appliques rimmed the discreet, but plunging, neckline. She felt willowly in high-heeled shoes. She touched her hair. The blond curls usually did what they pleased, but today she’d tamed them into sleek waves. And Natty had loaned her some light makeup.

  “I had to see you,” she told him bluntly. “If you send me away—”

  “You have to go back to Florida, dammit.” He exhaled, as if getting himself under control. “Stubborn Tasmanian devil. Reckless little she-wolf.”

  “How do I look?”

  His voice rose. “Good enough to eat! Now go call the airport and book yourself on a flight back!”

  “No.” She took two steps toward him. “I love you, and I want to be with you. Even if it’s just for a couple of days. Birmingham is safe, Brig. Please.”

  “I told you to stay in Florida!”

  “Why are you yelling?” She took another step toward him, her body aching for his touch. “I’ll take anything you can give me. A few minutes. An hour. One night.” Her voice trembled. “I know you just left Florida a few days ago, but I miss you.” She fought for control. “I worry about you. I came here even though I knew you’d be furious. That’s one reason I wanted to look pretty. To distract you.”

  “Melisande,” he said, half-groaning her name. “Stop it. It’s not fair for you to dress up. I’d have trouble resistin’ if you wore a burlap bag and army boots.”

  “I know. I have feminine wiles.”

  “Feminine wilds,”

  She held out her hands and stepped closer. “I love you,” she whispered.

  “That does it,” he said in a low growl of a voice. He grabbed her hand and pulled. Millie sank down on the side of the tub and yelped with delight as his wet arms went around her. She wasn’t certain whether he dragged her into the tub with him or whether she climbed in. The end result was the same. She lay on top of him, kissing him wantonly, her legs entwined with his. The skirt of her dress floated like a
green cloud.

  “Tito is going to get hysterical over this,” she murmured breathlessly.

  “Who? Kiss my neck.”

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “Bring it in and put it on the bed!” Brig yelled, his voice strained.

  The room service waiter breezed past the open bathroom door, glanced in, and nearly dropped his tray. Millie looked over her shoulder at the young man’s startled expression.

  “G’day, mate,” Brig said cheerfully. “You’ve heard about my reputation with the ladies, eh?”

  “Hi. I’ll … I’ll come back later with the check.”

  “Sign it for me, eh? And throw in about thirty percent for yourself.”

  “Thank you, Mr. McKay!”

  “And lock the door behind you.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  After the waiter left, Millie burst into soft laughter. “I think he blushed more than I did.”

  “Sheilas should blush. It’s sexy.”

  Brig anchored his hands in her soggy skirt and eased both it and her slip up to her waist. His fingers scooted over her black panties and garter belt. “A full attack, I see. Nothin’ left to chance.”

  “I’m devious. I can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, Natty says.”

  “You’re takin’ your honey back home tonight.”

  “All right. I’ll go quietly.” Her eyes impish, she tried to push herself out of his arms.

  “Later.”

  Millie slipped one hand deep into the water and stroked his thighs, taking liberal side trips to other, more private areas. “My, that’s a mean crocodile.”

  “Lonesome.” His hand sidled over her panties, then gripped them and tugged harshly. The filmy silk ripped apart, and he drew it away from her body.

  “What soothes the savage beast?” she purred.

  He closed his eyes and shuddered, all teasing lost. “Only you, Melly,” he whispered. “Only you.”

  She caught a soft moan in her throat and kissed him. Straddling his body, she eased herself fully onto his hard flesh. The sensation was so sublime that she bowed her head next to his and whimpered his name. The water lapped at them and moved in sync with the slow rocking of her hips.