French Quarter

by Stella Cameron

She dropped her hands to his shoulders. In a very small voice she said, “Those men sent you a message.”

  The hair on the back of his neck prickled. He would wait, let her make all the steps on her own now.

  “I don’t want Dwayne or Cyrus to know what I’m going to tell you. I don’t want them more involved than they already are. Jack, if you do anything those men don’t like—anything that will cause them trouble—they will kill me.” Her fingertips dug into his muscle. “And they’ll kill Amelia.”

  The night was utterly still.

  “Amelia?” No one would touch his little girl, dammit.

  Sonny Clete believed you, Jack. Sonny had bought the story that Win was showing favoritism to Jack, and Sonny took that to mean he could be squeezed out as heir apparent to the boss if he didn’t protect himself. What Jack hadn’t foreseen was that Sonny would move against him rather than against Win. That would have to be changed.

  “Jack?”

  “Don’t worry. I know how to keep you and Amelia safe.” He’d better not make any mistakes after this.

  “We’ll make sure we all stay safe,” she told him. “I want to help. Only cowards use women and children to get what they want.”

  “You are really something, Miss Louisiana. Cool, no matter what.”

  “I’m not always cool. And I’ve never been so terrified. But now I’m mad, Jack, and I’ve never been so mad. Who are these people who think laws aren’t made for them? I’m going after them. You watch me. I’m going to hunt them down and make sure there isn’t a person in the world who doesn’t know their faces. I’ll figure out how they can be brought to justice without putting anyone in danger. They aren’t going to be able to find a place to hide, never. That’s when they get out of jail. They do awful things in jail to men who attack women. I hope they take them apart in there. I—”

  “Celina, chère—”

  “I’m going to launch a campaign to clean up crime in this city. It’s time New Orleans grew up. Enough is enough. We shouldn’t want to be known as a dangerous place to be. We—”

  He kissed her very carefully but very determinedly, and when he paused for breath and looked into her glittering eyes, he saw the tears that all the words had held back. “Cry, love. We’ll deal with those turkeys together. But it isn’t going to happen overnight. And you aren’t going to be running around on your own in the near future. Please let me be in the driver’s seat for a while, okay?”

  She nodded yes.

  His heart pounded. Amelia would have to be watched whenever she left the house. And Celina. He said, “Cyrus and Dwayne are out of their minds, too.”

  “I’m not out of my mind.”

  “I didn’t say you were,” he told her hastily. “I meant we’re all pushed to the max and this has been a terrible night. The police wouldn’t mount an active search because you hadn’t been gone long enough.”

  She pounded a fist on his chest. “I’m going after them too. I’m going to organize a citywide committee to look into the NOPD. There are things going on here that could bear a close examination. And I’m the woman to do it because I’m mad, Jack. Those hoods think they’ve frightened me into submission, but they’re wrong. I’m coming out fighting. Just as soon as I figure out how.”

  He smothered an irrational desire to laugh. She was incredible. Anger obviously worked very well to carry her through difficult—no, impossible times.

  “Let’s go up and put your brother and Dwayne out of their misery.”

  With his arm around her waist, they climbed upward more rapidly than he would have expected. He rested his hand on the side of her belly and spread his fingers. Junior was putting on weight. “This guy is growing,” he said. “I’d better get a doctor over to take a look at you and make sure everything’s okay.”

  “It is okay. I’ve got an appointment tomorrow, and I’ll keep it.”

  “We’re going to a wedding on Friday.” Even as he said it, he decided the wedding would come to them in Chartres Street. She halted and looked up at him. “Just like that?”

  “I thought it was a cute delivery.”

  “Oh, yes. Cute. We’re going to a wedding on Friday. How do you figure that’ll be the date?”

  “I’ve worked it out, and that’s when it’ll be.” He would do anything to take her mind off the terror she’d been through. “You just leave things to me.”

  He opened the door and took her inside.

  Dwayne and Cyrus came into the hallway and Dwayne let out a whoop. He rushed at Celina, but skidded to a halt just short of grabbing her. He gaped at her. “What’s happened? What have they done to you? Who did it?”

  “Kidnapped,” Celina said, her voice still hoarse. “Tied up. Left in the dark with a bag over my head and made to think I was on top of a stool, when I was really standing on a piece of wood on the ground. Noose around my neck. I thought it was tied to a rafter, when it wasn’t. I was afraid to move because I expected to fall and hang. Threatened… manhandled. Don’t ask. It was horrible, but now I’m so angry I intend to use their disgusting behavior to put them away forever.”

  “They don’t put people away forever,” Cyrus said.

  His sister responded, “I don’t want to listen to reason, so don’t bother.”

  “We’ll see they go somewhere forever, sweetcakes,” Dwayne said, his eyes hard. “I’ve got friends—large, dangerous friends. They’d love a righteous excuse to use force.”

  “Hey,” Jack said. “The reprisals will have to wait. I’ve got to take care of Celina.”

  “Finish,” Dwayne said. “What else?”

  “Threatened,” Celina went on. “Driven around on my face in a van. And then thrown down under the bushes in the courtyard with a gag on so 1 couldn’t even call for help.”

  “I’ll kill them,” Dwayne said. “Slowly.”

  “They must be brought to justice,” Cyrus said. He pushed Dwayne aside and embraced Celina. “Sorry, kid. Not adequate, I know, but I’ve been scared out of my wits. We all have. You’ve got to do exactly what Jack says. At least until we can feel you’re safe again.”

  “She’s safe now,” Jack said, wishing he felt as sure as he sounded. “Until we get satisfaction about Errol—and make sure whoever did this to her is behind bars—Celina isn’t going to be out of my sight.”

  “That’s a fine idea,” Cyrus said, “but I hardly think it’ll be easy to pull off. After all—”

  “Yes, it will,” Jack said, silencing him. “We’re getting married on Friday. Until then Celina will be with us at my place. And after that she’ll be with us at my place. When she isn’t with me somewhere else.”

  The expressions on the other men’s faces would have made him laugh if he had it in him. “Glad you’re both so excited for us.”

  “Friday?” Dwayne said. “As in this Friday?”

  “This coming Friday.”

  Cyrus cleared his throat and didn’t say a word.

  “Later we’ll ask you to bless the marriage,” Jack said, proud that he could still think clearly enough to cover all bases. “But there isn’t time to get everything done that needs to be done for a church wedding by the end of the week, and we don’t want to wait—for obvious reasons.”

  Cyrus nodded. “I’ll be there.” He stroked Celina’s hair and Jack marveled again that such unlikable people as Bitsy and Neville Payne had raised two great children.

  “I need to check on Amelia.” He felt an urgent need to see that she was safe. “I’m going to take Celina with me, but I’d like to ask you to stay with Cyrus, Dwayne. Someone needs to be here all the time in case the police decide to make a stab at solving the case. Any problems with that?”

  He expected a smart comeback, but Dwayne said, “Whatever you think. I’ll call Jean-Claude. In fact, I’ll call him right now and ask him to come and take you two home.”

  “That’s not—”

  Dwayne waved Celina to silence and placed the call. “He’ll be right over,” he said when he’d hung up.
“Then he’ll go back and close.”

  Celina went to gather some clothes.

  Only minutes passed before they heard the roar of Jean-Claude’s pride and joy, his vintage red Morgan, right-hand drive and complete with leather straps around the hood—or bonnet, as Jean-Claude insisted it be called.

  With Celina wedged in the middle, and her small bag squashed behind the seat, Jean-Claude drove to Jack’s place. A quiet, thoughtful man, the only comment he made was, “This is real bad stuff, isn’t it?”

  Jack said, “Yes. It’ll pass—soon, I hope—but we’ve got to do what the police won’t. We’ve got to look out for Dwayne and Celina. Don’t ask me to go into the whole thing now. I don’t want Dwayne anywhere he could be isolated and picked off, okay.”

  “You got it,” Jean-Claude said, drawing up in front of the Chartres Street property. “Be in touch, huh?”

  Jack assured him he would, and Jean-Claude drove away.

  Looking around, searching shadows, and staring at faces under the streetlights, Jack rang the bell on his own door. He and Tilly had an agreement that when she and Amelia were at home but Jack was out, the heavy old bolt would be used.

  Soon there were footsteps on the stairs inside and Tilly called out, “Who is it?”

  “A mannerless ghost,” Jack said, and the bolt slid back.

  When she opened the door, Tilly said, “I’ve been insane with worry about you two,” and Jack didn’t miss that she’d included Celina in her concern.

  “You get in here,” she said. “Upstairs with both of you. You look terrible, Miss Payne. You’d better have a shower and go to bed. Maybe some warm bread pudding and cream. Lots of butter and cream are good for women in the family way. Build yourself up, and the baby.

  Poor—” She paused, and gulped.

  Jack and Celina looked at each other.

  “I’m sorry,” Tilly said, sounding miserable. “I can’t think what came over me. Carried away, I guess.”

  “I thought maybe it wasn’t so obvious,” Celina said.

  “I knew when I first met you,” Tilly said. “I’ve always been good at noticing those things, and it isn’t what you think so much as what I see in the face, in the eyes. I thought that was it, and then I took a look elsewhere and knew I was right. But I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to be,” Jack said. “We certainly aren’t. Where’s Amelia?”

  Tilly looked bemused. “In bed. Where else would she be at this hour?”

  Avoiding Celina’s eyes, he said, “She has been known not to stay there.”

  “I just checked,” Tilly said. “Fast asleep with F.P.”

  “Her frog,” Jack said, unsure if Celina remembered. He couldn’t keep the fear at bay, but he was going to have to try. “There’s going to be a wedding on Friday, Tilly. Think you might like to come?”

  Tilly sniffed. “I’ll think about it.”

  “You do that.” Jack leaned down until she looked at him. “I’d be very sad if you weren’t there.”

  “In that case I’ll come,” she said.

  “Oh, good,” Jack told her. “Do you suppose we should get Celina off the street and inside for all that good, baby-buildin’ stuff? She’s had a horrible time, Tilly.”

  Flustered, Tilly turned and rushed upstairs while Jack secured the door and followed with an arm around Celina again. “I’m going to want more details,” he told her very quietly. “There may be things that mean nothing to you but they could give a hint of something to me. We’re going to need all the help we can get to make sure we put an end to this.” And he would surely be paying Win another visit real soon.

  “I don’t want to talk about— Some of it wasn’t important.”

  His gut sucked in. In other words, “manhandle” had been code for more intrusive liberties. “We’ve got lots of time. Forget it for now. Are you sure we shouldn’t get a doctor over here to look at you?”

  “Sure. Really. I’m jelly between my ears, but I’m strong and I don’t feel there’s any reason to overreact. But we’re going to get them, Jack. And we’ve got to start right away if were going to find …” Her voice faded away.

  He looked at her curiously. “Find?”

  She swallowed and made a great deal of running her fingers through her hair. “I want to find them,” she said, but it sounded lame.

  Now wasn’t the appropriate moment to push her on anything. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

  He left the two women and tried not to dash to Amelia’s room. Black curls showed between the pink pillow and pink sheet. Jack tiptoed around the bed until he could see her face by the glow from the night light. Her thick lashes moved in sleep. Frog Prince’s head rested beside hers on the pillow.

  Relief shouldn’t be so tainted by dread. Celina couldn’t possibly guess how far he’d go to make sure the police weren’t involved now. This would be between himself and Win—as long as Win still held the real power.

  Leaving the room as quietly as he’d come, Jack closed the door and returned to Celina’s side. He felt the intensity of her gaze. She squeezed his forearm and he hoped his smile was careless enough.

  “I told you Amelia was asleep,” Tilly said, coming out of the kitchen with a steaming mug. “Herbal tea. Drink it down, it’ll relax you.”

  Jack took the mug for Celina and carried it directly to his bedroom. When he got inside and looked back, Celina still stood where she was, at the top of the stairs, with Tilly, who actually smiled benevolently.

  He beckoned to Celina, who came slowly toward him, then let him sit her on the couch in his room to drink the tea. Leaving the door open was no accident. He did not want her to feel threatened, and he also wanted her to eat whatever nasty-sounding concoction Tilly intended to offer.

  That offering wasn’t long in coming. Bustling about, Tilly pulled forward a small table and set a tray on top. A bowl of bread pudding with melted butter and cream floating on top, and scattered with brown sugar, was flanked by another mug, this one filled with steaming milk.

  “Thank you,” Celina said, and actually looked at the food with anticipation. “I’m really hungry.”

  “Of course you are. That baby’s taking everything, you mark my words.” She beamed at Jack with what he realized was something close to grandmotherly pride. “And we want a healthy baby and mother, don’t we, Mr. Charbonnet?”

  He cleared his throat and said, “We certainly do. Thank you, Tilly.”

  “Don’t you worry about a thing,” she said, her hands folded on her middle. “And I suggest you lock this door so our young lady doesn’t decide to pay a visit. If she needs anything, I’ll take care of it. You both need some time alone, and some sleep. If you want me, call on my line, Mr. Charbonnet.”

  With another proprietary smile at Celina, she left.

  Jack couldn’t think of anything sensible to say.

  “Not what you expected, hmm?” Celina said, spooning down the food in her bowl with evident relish. “She thinks this is your baby.”

  He glanced away. “Good. That’s what we want people to think.” He didn’t say that with every moment he spent with Celina, he wished even more that the baby was his. “Tilly’s right. You need to sleep. I should get some paperwork done. Do you need anything before I go?”

  She set down her spoon and picked up the hot milk. “Could you lock the door, please? I’d like to feel safe.”

  He frowned. “You want me to lock you in? I’m not sure you’ll like that.”

  “I want you to lock us in. Would you mind, Jack? I’d really appreciate knowing you’re here with me tonight.”

  “Celina—”

  “No, don’t apologize. I’m the one who is sorry. You’re a busy man and I shouldn’t take up any more of your time.” She set down the milk and got up. “I’ve turned your life upside down. I have no right to ask for even more consideration.”

  He ran the tips of his fingers lightly down her arm. “Every day I get a stronger picture of just
how brave you are. And how brave you’ve been. We’re in trouble. I’m not going to lie to you about that. But you make it easier because you’re strong.” He locked the door and returned to move aside the table she’d used. “There’s nothing I have to do that can’t wait for tomorrow. I wanted to stay, but Ι didn’t want to crowd you.”

  Her smile turned down and for an instant he thought she would cry, but she blinked back the tears. “Thank you. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m so scared, I have to block it all out or I’d be paralyzed, but you make me feel safe, Jack. I’ve dragged you into something that’s not your responsibility, but you just keep on backing me.”

  “That’s not a chore, chère.” There were feelings that should be put into words, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to say them yet. He might never be ready. “We got here together because I judged you, and I judged you wrong. But for once, a mistake paid off.”

  “Which mistake?” She eyed him anxiously.

  “Thinking that you were a conniving, evil, manipulative little witch who was out to capitalize on my dead friend’s tragedy to further your own ends. And that you were responsible for driving him over the edge and making him fall off the wagon. Have I missed anything?”

  She gasped and wrinkled her nose. “That’s horrible.”

  “It was horrible. Past tense. I’d really like it if you’d lie down.”

  “Would it be okay if Ι take a shower”

  From the look of her, she might pass out at any moment.

  “If you’re sure you’re okay to do that. But don’t lock the door in there, okay?”

  She turned an interesting shade of pink, but said, “Okay.”

  Bathrooms were really personal.

  In the movies they often showed characters poking around in bathrooms, looking for…usually they didn’t know what they were looking for, except something they had no right to find.

  Narcotics?

  Birth control pills.

  Celina stood under beating hot water in Jack’s shower and grinned. She grinned? She found the thought of birth control pills funny? Either she was approaching hysteria, or her sense of humor had taken a sick twist.

  She liked being in Jack’s shower. It felt intimate, a little forbidden. And the smells were so good, his smells. Soap that was very simple, that came in a large slab and reminded her of walking in a forest—and of him, her bare feet where his stood, her face lifted to the water in exactly the place where he lifted his. Silliness, all of it. Somehow she’d managed to turn a convenience into a romance. But she liked the way this silliness felt.