by Jana DeLeon
When the shower of debris stopped, she looked up and saw Richard struggling to his feet just a couple of feet away from her. "What the hell was that?" Dorie asked. "Don't tell me Roland's gun connections also dabble in explosives."
Richard slowly shook his head and stared at what was left of the boat. The entire back and middle was gone. Only a portion of the bow remained, stuck in an upright position deep in the bayou mud.
"Explosives are a new one. I've never heard anything about Roland using explosives." His voice shook slightly as he answered. "You sure you're all right?" He stepped close to her and put his arms around her.
She gave him a squeeze and pulled away. "Well, at the moment, I have exactly seven hundred dollars in my checking account and absolutely no assets left at all, but I suppose things could be worse." She cast one final forlorn look at her previous residence and sighed. "I don't suppose you have a phone in your car, do you?"
"Yeah," he said and fumbled in his pocket for the keys. "I guess we better call Joe, right?"
She nodded. "No one else to call, and the boat's not presenting a fire threat to anyone, what's left of it anyway."
They headed back up the path to the car. Richard sighed and she looked over at him. "Something wrong? Other than the obvious."
He shrugged. "I'm just wondering who's going to kill me first, Joe or your dad. This wasn't exactly what we had in mind when we decided I should come out here tonight."
Dorie stopped dead in her tracks and stared at him." We decided? And who exactly constitutes we?"
He fidgeted a bit and finally blurted out the answer. "Me, Joe and your dad. Joe and I called him after you left the station. He was plenty mad. My ears are still raw, and Joe, well, let's just say that your dad cut him no slack."
"Damn it! I ought to whip the entire lot of you. What part of I can take care of myself' are you people not understanding?"
He looked instantly contrite. "1 didn't mean to imply you couldn't take care of yourself. But I don't want to see you hurt and if anything were to hap pen to you, I'd blame myself. Roland is supposed to be my problem."
"Roland is society's problem," she shot back and started to continue her tirade but the pitiful expression on his face made her back off a little from her indignation with a resolved sigh. She wouldn't want to be in Richard's position either. The last thing anyone in law enforcement wanted to do was endanger the very people they were paid to protect. Shaking her head at the entire mess, she stomped over to Richard's car. He unlocked the car door, pulled out his cell phone, and handed it to her.
"Coward," she said and dialed Joe's number. There was no answer at his house, so she hung up and dialed his cell.
"No answer?"
"Not at his house. Of course, the sound from that explosion probably carried halfway to Lake Charles. Joe would have immediately assumed that it had something to do with me and is probably already on his way." The cell phone finally made a connection, and Joe answered with a yell that could probably be heard from fifty yards away. It took Dorie a minute to explain to Joe that he was speaking to her, not Richard, and there was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone before the sound of Joe's cell phone snapping shut echoed in her ear.
The fact that Joe was obviously too angry to speak and hadn't even asked if Richard was alive or dead let her know that he was probably going to kill them both when he got there-just to save Roland the trouble.
“That went well," she said and handed the phone back to Richard. "You might want to think about drowning yourself, or making use of a firearm. Hell, at least rub some blood on your face. If you appear hurt, Joe will probably be less likely to kill you.”
He laughed at first, but when she didn't join in or even smile, he sobered a bit and went back to frowning. Dorie squinted, as she looked down the shell road trying to catch sight of headlights, but the tall, thick marsh grass blocked out any light whatsoever. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Richard swipe one bloody forearm across his head and she bit back a smile.
"What's taking him so long?" Richard asked.
"I don't know," Dorie replied. Even though she knew they hadn't been waiting long, she also knew that it felt like forever. Not happy standing around any longer, she was about to suggest they start walking and meet Joe on the road, when his truck squealed into the parking area throwing a shower of rocks and dust. Joe took his time getting out of the truck then strode purposefully toward them.
He only took a moment to ascertain their physical health then glared. "I ought to kill the both of you right here just to keep anyone from being accidentally hurt in the cross fire."
"I told you," Dorie muttered low enough so only Richard could hear.
Joe turned his glare specifically to Richard. "And some job you managed. I send you out here to protect her, and she still almost gets killed. How in the world did you miss someone rigging a bomb to her boat?" He looked back and forth between the two of them then held up one hand. "Never mind. I don't want to know."
"We were just sleeping, Joe," Dorie said. "Honest."
Richard nodded rapidly and held up one hand. "Scout's honor. We were just sleeping."
Joe narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, well, Dorie normally sleeps very lightly, like a cat. I've been to enough conferences with her to know what it takes to make her sleep soundly and since there wasn't enough time for her to consume that much beer, then it had to be the other."
Dorie gave Richard a guilty look and couldn't bring herself to look directly at Joe. "All right, Joe, you've made your point. I'll just have to step it up a notch."
Joe shook his head in disbelief. "You two are amazing, but your ridiculous lives have made me realize two things. One, when all of this is over, I'm taking a vacation-a long one."
"And the second?" Dorie asked.
"As soon as the cafe opens tomorrow," Joe said, "I'm asking Jenny out. Before it's too late to be asking. Working with you two is obviously not safe."
That said, he stalked back to his truck and climbed in the cab, slamming the door behind him. Richard gave Dorie a look of dismay. "This is going to be the longest five-mile ride of my life."
She took another look at Joe, the anger still clear on his face and nodded. “Maybe we ought to ride in the back. Give him a chance to cool off."
Richard nodded and seemed relieved. "Good idea," he said and climbed over the tailgate and into the back of the pickup. He extended one hand back for Dorie, and she grudgingly took it and hopped in the bed beside him.
The engine roared to life and they sat down, their backs leaning against the cab. Joe screeched out of the parking area and floored the truck, sending them bouncing on the hard metal bottom of the truck bed. Dust swirled around them and they both began to cough, trying to breathe. Joe was really going to have his fun with this one.
"Maybe we'll choke before we get back to town," Richard said as he gasped for air.
Dorie shook her head. "I'm not that lucky."
Richard grit his teeth every time his tailbone jarred against the bed of the truck, but despite the sheer agony in his butt, he wasn't looking forward to the end of this ride. Based on the expression on Joe's face when they'd left the dock, Richard wondered if he'd even slow down in front of the hotel or if he would expect Richard to fling himself out onto Main Street and be thankful for the ride. He guessed it would be the latter, but no matter which, he considered the whole truck-riding experience merely a warm-up for the ass-chewing that was certain to ensue later on.
He looked over at Dorie, trying to interpret her expression, but Dorie Berenger was one tough read. Aside from when she was supremely pissed or when they were having sex, Richard couldn't tell what she was thinking at all, and that surprised him. He didn't expect to understand the way women worked all the time but figured he ought to have a better idea than those two extremes.
Glancing over at her again, he saw her face was completely blank. What in the world could she be thinking? Was she in some state of shock? Was she worried about
explaining this second attack to her dad? Did she regret her entire involvement with Richard and this case?
What the hell. If I can't guess, I’ll just ask. The worst she can do is shoot me.
"What are you thinking about?" he blurted out before he could change his mind.
Apparently, he had caught her mid-thought because it took a moment for his question to register.
Finally, she looked at him and replied, "I was just thinking that my association with you has been hell on boats. I'll probably have to find a new insurance company after this. But then on the other hand, I've had my eye on that new bass boat in Stella's store ever since she got it in."
He stared at her, completely amazed. So much for a deep emotional state of thought. The woman's house had just exploded, almost taking both of them with it. Joe was surely plotting sixty different ways to hold them in protective custody, probably the nearest jail cell if he could manage it, and as soon as her dad got wind of this, he'd probably have his daughter kidnapped and held at gunpoint in a safe house in Antarctica. But she was thinking about buying a new bass boat.
He sighed and leaned back against the cab of the truck. Good Lord, was his perception of women this far off the mark? Of course, if he were honest with himself, he'd admit that even at his first glimpse of Dorie, she'd given him the impression she was nowhere near normal.
The truck made a huge bounce and mercifully climbed off the dirt road and onto the highway. Between the boat ride and the truck ride, he might have to spend a lot of time standing from now on. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the stinging pain in his backside.
Fortunately, the remainder of the ride was brief, or maybe it just felt that way since it was a lot smoother, and it was only a couple of minutes later that they made a hard right turn and the truck screeched to a stop. Richard rose up from the bed and looked around him at the row of neat little houses on stilts. "Where are we?"
"Joe's place," Dorie replied.
"Great. Why didn't he just take us to the motel?"
Dorie shrugged. "You may as well get used to it. Once Joe gets in his protector mode, it's all over but the suffering. I'll be lucky to pee unattended until Roland is caught."
She climbed out of the back of the truck and trailed into the house after Joe. Richard took one look at her departing figure and wondered if this situation could get any worse.
Dorie awakened the next morning with a sore rear end and a screaming headache. Probably from being too close to the blast. Desperate for an aspirin and coffee, and not necessarily in that order, she crawled out of bed and made her way into the kitchen. Richard and Joe were already there, sitting at the dining room table, glaring at each other, not saying a word.
"You guys should keep it down," she said. "How's a girl supposed to get her beauty rest?"
"You may as well give up on the joking, Dorie" Joe said. "I'm not taking this lightly, and I won't let you do so either."
"I wasn't making light of anything."
"You were going to try, and I'm not allowing it. This has gone way too far. It's one thing for you to go off half-cocked and think you're invincible, but there are other people in this town who could get caught in the cross fire. This Roland has got a set of balls on him that we are not accustomed to dealing with."
“So what would you like us to do-let him get away?"
"No, but we're going to have to change the way we think."
She looked at Richard, who raised his eyebrows and barely shook his head with a "you're not going to win, don't even try it" signal. "Okay, Joe. I'll agree that I underestimated the length Roland would go to get to me, but I wasn't exactly wrong."
Joe snorted, and she held up one hand to stop him from speaking. "Look, I still don't think Roland would be bothering with me if he had already moved his product through Gator Bait. The fact that he took the chance of being seen or caught by being so close to me tells me that his business here is not done. Which still gives us an opportunity to find out who he's doing business with."
"She's right," Richard said. Joe glared at both of them and turned his attention to his coffee mug.
"I'm not saying she's not right," Joe said."I'm saying she's going to have to start being a hell of a lot more careful. And being careful starts with me going everywhere she goes." He glared at Richard. "You can do what you choose. I can't control you, and am under no professional or moral obligation to protect you.”
Joe rose from his chair. "The first item on the agenda for this morning is a visit to your dad." He pointed a finger at Dorie. "You have got a hell of a lot of explaining to do. That explosion rocked the entire town. I'm sure he's already heard about it. After you talk to him and let him know you're all right, and if he doesn't kill you, then we'll ask him about this case."
Joe stalked off toward the bedroom and Dorie blew out a breath. "That went well," she said. "Just what I wanted to do first thing this morning is go see my dad. I don't even have clean underwear." She gave Richard a dirty look before he could speak. “And I'm not borrowing from you or Joe."
She downed the remainder of her coffee and got up to rinse the cup. "I guess I'll have Joe stop off at Wal-Mart in Lake Charles. I can get enough to tide me over. It's not like I'll be needing an evening gown or anything."
Richard just nodded in response.
"Are you going with us?" she asked.
He shook his head in obvious relief. "No. I need to get back to the motel and call the office."
"Chicken shit," Dorie muttered.
He had the decency to look a little guilty, but still managed to protest. "The DNA results should be in this morning. I know it's just a formality, but it will strengthen our case against Roland once he's captured."
She nodded and stared over his head out the window. "You know, with the way this thing is going, I'm not so sure I'd like to see him go to trial. I'm to the point that a cell six feet under is sounding better and better."
“Don't think for one second that I wouldn't take that opportunity if it presented itself," Richard said softly. "I'm not saying I would do anything in cold blood, and I certainly wouldn't advocate you doing so either, but if he gave me any reason, even blinking, I don't think I would hesitate for a moment."
Dorie considered for a minute how she would feel if it were her dad who was dead, and she had the opportunity to meet the killer face to face. Would her professional training and ethics be enough to outweigh the need for vengeance?
She felt her jaw tighten, and her right hand shifted automatically to her waist where she normally carried her gun. She looked at her hand and shook her head.
Obviously, the answer was no.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Joe was silent for the entire drive to Lake Charles, which was fine with Dorie. She had enough to think about without Joe throwing his opinion into the mix. And Joe always had an opinion, even if he didn't voice it. But today Dorie wasn't interested in hearing his thoughts, especially since she'd heard enough of them since last night.
They pulled into the parking lot of the retirement home, Joe parked the truck, and they made their way through the entry and up to the front desk. Sherry was at her usual post and gave Dorie a disapproving look as she walked in the door. "Your dad has been having fits over you. If you didn't come in today, he was going to make me drive him to Gator Bait. I don't have to tell you how much work it is to handle the sheriff when he's mad."
"I'm sorry, Sherry-"
"Don't want to hear it," Sherry cut her off. "Running around with a damn Yankee, getting shot at, your home destroyed. All for what? Let that man catch his own criminal. It's got nothing to do with you."
Knowing there was no use arguing, Dorie just nodded and mumbled a quick, "Yes, ma'am." It wouldn't do to tell Sherry that Richard's criminal did involve her because someone in Gator Bait was helping him. Dorie looked over at Joe, who leaned against the counter, quietly observing the exchange, a sour look on his face.
"You coming with me?" she asked.
; He shook his head. "Not for the first order of business. You're on your own for that one. When he gets done, and if you have any ass left, call me and I'll come in. Meantime, I'll be right here at the desk trying to talk Sherry out of some cookies."
Resigned to her fate, Dorie walked slowly down the hall toward her dad's room, hoping to delay the scene that she was positive was about to ensue. She was a few steps away from his door when she heard voices talking inside his apartment. Angry voices. There was a small crack in the door and she stepped closer and leaned in to try to hear what they were saying.
The first voice was her dad's and she strained a bit and made out the second voice as Buster's. What in the world was Buster doing here this early in the morning visiting her dad when he ought to be opening the shrimp house? And what were they arguing about? She had a very bad feeling about the whole thing and pushed the door open just a bit more, so she could hear exactly what they were saying.
"Damn it, Buster," Sheriff Berenger complained. "This is my daughter we're talking about. If I find out you're involved somehow, I swear to God, I'll kill you. Don't think I can't do it."
"I promise you," Buster said, his voice shaky, "I don't know anything about Roland. I didn't have anything to do with him coming back here. You know that's all in the past. I kept my end of the bargain."
Dorie felt her chest constrict and she sucked in a breath. It was her worst possible nightmare. Her dad and Roland? She leaned against the wall in the hallway, unable to think for all the blood rushing to her head. What am I going to do? I have to confront them.
Taking a deep breath, she stood up straight and stepped into the apartment, slamming the door behind her.
The two men jumped at the noise then looked horrified when they realized who was standing there. And with the angry expression on her face, she was sure they knew that she had heard their conversation.
