Captured by Moonlight

by Nancy Gideon

  “Let me know how things go.”

  “You’ll be the first to hear.”

  When the door closed, Max turned out the light. The darkness suited his mood and was gentler on his raw eyes. He rested his head atop his folded arms, hoping the pain would ebb enough for him to rest. But the driving pulse kept hammering inside his skull, restless, chaotic, unsettling. He longed to go home, to let Charlotte cradle him close and soothe his feverish thoughts. It was the only place he could find comfort.

  But he didn’t dare go to her. Not after what had almost happened. How could he keep her safe, if she wasn’t safe with him?

  He was trying to do too much for too many, and was failing them all. Jimmy, LaRoche, Charlotte, and now Oscar. How could he choose which to concentrate on and which to let go? Those who could make do without him were the ones he held most dear. And he heard Father Furness’s warning whisper through him. You must be prepared to lose everything.

  He found himself on the phone.

  “Caissie,” came her husky voice.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  A pause. “I wasn’t asleep.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Max? Where are you, baby? Please come home.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut with the same viselike tension that crushed his heart. “Charlotte, it’s better this way.”

  Silence, then the gentle caress of words that could almost heal every sorrow. “I love you, Max. I need you here with me.”

  He hung up, because nothing was further from the truth.

  The last thing she needed was the danger and possibly fatal heartache he represented.

  Thirteen

  HE DIDN’T COME home.

  He wasn’t there by the time she joined Oscar in the back of the town car for Pete to drive him to school. She rode along, bewildered by her sudden protective attitude toward a child who was not her own.

  Once Oscar was safely behind his desk, Cee Cee decided the best place for her was behind her own. As she limped through the station, Joey Boucher called out, “Nice ride, detective. I need to get me a sugar daddy.”

  “Then you’d better get yourself a pretty face, Boucher.”

  Laughing, he fell in step beside her, not offering assistance because she would have stuffed his sympathy down his throat. “He’s really something, that fella of yours. Never seen moves like that before.”

  “Yeah, he’s something. Is there something you were wanting, Joey?”

  He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I just felt bad about the whole thing, about what was done and how he was treated. If you care for him, he must be an okay guy, right?”

  “Right. He’s a peach. I’ll let him know you apologized for enjoying the show while he was getting the crap kicked out of him. Maybe he’ll take you off his list of those to dump into Lake Pontchartrain.”

  When the young officer stopped in his tracks, paling, Cee Cee sighed in exasperation. “Come on, Joey, don’t start making out your will. He doesn’t carry a grudge, even though I might. He’s strange that way.”

  “Oh. Good.” Looking considerably relieved, he continued to dog her to the elevators.

  “Was there something else, Joseph?”

  “You asked me to keep you up to speed on that floater.”

  “And?” She tried to keep from betraying any undue interest.

  “Well, it seems we got a description on two of the possibles. Owner of some rib place remembers the kid talking to a couple of real slick customers. From up north, by their accents. Clean-cut, buttoned up tight. He thought they might be Feds.” He raised his brows at Cee Cee’s look of surprise. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. Info cost sixty bucks.”

  Cee Cee smiled at that. “Rib business must be good.”

  “Same two characters were ID’d on the docks, along with three other men, all suits, chasing the kid. The piece they took off the vic—standard Fed issue.”

  “What the hell’s going on, Joey?”

  “Got me. Chief has a call out to some pals at the Bureau, to see if they’re sniffing around anything in particular down here.”

  “When aren’t they?” she muttered, bristling with territorial defensiveness. She patted his arm. “Thanks, Boucher. Keep me posted.”

  “When’s Babs going to be back? Heard about his missus’s folks. Bad business.”

  “He should be in this afternoon. Let anyone who’s interested know the viewing’s tomorrow from five to nine at St. Bart’s and the funeral’s on Tuesday.”

  “I’ll do that. And don’t forget to tell Savoie what I said.”

  “Relax, Joey. He’s not going to tear your heart out over a game of softball.” Then she relented. “All right. I’ll tell him when I see him.”

  BUT MAX DIDN’T show up at the house that evening. She waited on dinner until the meal grew cold, and her hopes colder. With Oscar back at his home and Max missing, the big rooms echoed with loneliness. As the hour grew late and her mood grew low, she made a call, but only got his voice mail. There were so many things she longed to say to him but she stuck to business, relaying what she’d learned from Boucher. She concluded the call with a rather brusque, “Let me know what I can do.”

  As she stood out on the balcony, staring blindly into the night, she mulled over the circumstances surrounding Tito Tibideaux’s death. She didn’t buy into the Bureau being behind the torture and bizarre killing of a local kid. It didn’t smack of their by-the-book self-righteousness. If they were after something in her district, they would have had the courtesy to knock first, despite the egos involved.

  But the whisper of government interest opened up a whole new shadowed complexity. And a whole new world of danger to Max and his clan. Whoever was down here, willing to do murder to find answers, was just getting started. No way Tito’s death wasn’t related to the two bodies awaiting burial. That suggested some very professional, very scary, and very deadly forces were in play; badass boys who considered themselves above the rules.

  What did they want with Max? Or Oscar?

  And how was she going to help protect him if he continued to keep her in the dark?

  THE VIEWING FOR Tina’s parents was a mix of NOPD, retired military, and parishioners of the church. While Cee Cee stood off to one side with her gloomy partner, Tina and a somber-faced Oscar greeted visitors and friends. For a boy dealing with such a tragedy, Oscar, in his new clothes and shiny shoes, was all restrained manners—until sudden relief burst over his face like the sun from behind clouds. Cee Cee followed his gaze and felt her own features brighten as Max Savoie entered the subdued gathering.

  Wearing an expensive suit, dark glasses, and a two-day stubble, Max gave her a quick acknowledging glance on his way to pay his respects. Cee Cee felt Babineau stiffen beside her as his wife accepted his quiet words and offered embrace.

  A scowl darkened the detective’s countenance as the hug lingered a bit too long. Tina hadn’t lost control with any of the other guests, but she clung to Savoie with white-knuckled hands, her face buried in his silk shirt as Oscar reached up to take hold of his arm. Almost as if they were family.

  Cee Cee rocked back from the notion in uncomfortable alarm, which deepened when Tina was coaxed from her vigil to join Max on one of the velvety sofas. She welcomed the curl of his arm about her shaking shoulders as if they were dearest friends, instead of practically strangers. Oscar sat on the other side of him.

  Cee Cee and Alain weren’t the only ones noticing. The NOPD wives and significant others had their heads together to tsk-tsk the impropriety, and Cee Cee could have cheerfully jammed the funeral lilies down their throats.

  She was bothered by it, too. She should have been the one to claim his attention—the one to muss up his fancy shirt and reap the comfort of his strong arms. All she’d gotten, after two days, was a quick, impersonal glance. Ordinarily she would have strode over, plunked herself down on the sofa, and made herself unavoidable. But two things undercut her courage: the sound of her question, “Mo
re important than me?” going unanswered. And the boy having Max’s smile.

  GILES WAS OUT in the parking lot, leaning against the car. He straightened when he saw Cee Cee hobbling toward him, then frowned at the sight of her woebegone features.

  “Gimme a cigarette, Giles.”

  He drew out his pack and flicked out a smoke, lighting it for her and waiting while she blew a chain of rings toward a disinterested moon.

  It didn’t help. She got the feeling nothing was going to. Cursing softly, she ground the filter tip out beneath her heel after one last long drag.

  “Take me home.”

  “Do you want me to see if Max is ready to go?”

  “No, that’s all right. To my home, my apartment.”

  Giles shook his head. “You’re supposed to stay out at the house.”

  “Says who?”

  Giles didn’t answer, fearing he’d already said too much.

  Instead of tearing into him with the expected interrogation, Cee Cee sighed wearily. “Max doesn’t want or need me crowding him right now. He’s got a lot on his mind and so do I. Just take me home. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m not anyone someone’s gonna want to mess with tonight.”

  Without comment, he opened the car door and helped her in.

  “I’M SORRY,” TINA Babineau murmured as she wiped her eyes. “I thought I was all cried out. I didn’t mean to get you all soggy.”

  “It’s no big deal.” Max smiled, meaning it.

  “I really appreciate you and Cee Cee taking care of Oscar. I didn’t know where else to leave him, and I didn’t want him to go with us to . . .”

  “He was no trouble.”

  “Did he remember to take his medication?”

  Max’s smile was filled with reassurance. “He didn’t forget anything.”

  She straightened her sedately tailored suit with fluttery hands, suddenly uncomfortable with this man she hardly knew. Her husband hinted that he was a bad and dangerous customer, but that’s not the impression she’d gotten. He’d seemed very direct with his feelings for Alain’s partner, and for some reason her son had established a tight bond with him—the kind Alain had yet to manage. Perhaps that was behind much of her husband’s dislike and distrust of the quietly powerful Max Savoie. She didn’t want to think it had to do with his protectiveness of Charlotte Caissie.

  She glanced up with timid gratitude. “Still, it was very kind. Oscar’s gotten quite attached to you. That’s not like him; he’s usually shy with new people.” As was she. What was it about this hard-featured man that inspired such confidence?

  “He’s a special boy.”

  There were layers to that simple statement, the same kind of complex and mysterious layers contained behind the impassive front of the man who spoke it. Tina stared at him for a long moment, then said, “Yes, he is.”

  “And we’re going to have to talk about that sometime soon, you and I.”

  She didn’t speak or even move.

  “Tina, the Slaters are leaving,” her husband interrupted quietly.

  “I’d better say good-bye.” She smiled rather stiffly at Max. “Thank you again. Come along, Oscar.”

  Alain waited until she left before letting his politeness slide a notch.

  But Max wasn’t paying attention. He was scanning the room.

  “Where’s Charlotte?”

  “She left. Said something about propping her foot up and doing some paperwork. She has to go up against Judge Carbone in the morning on a case we finally got to trial. Nothing that concerns you.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment took a sharp bite out of his mood. He knew he’d hurt her with his avoidance, and had wanted to soothe her with gentle words and an even gentler touch. But he was so weak where she was concerned; if he wavered even for a moment, he’d be lost. Just a word, just a touch wouldn’t be enough—and for the moment, he couldn’t give her any more. He didn’t dare. He needed to keep the hungry beast inside him at bay, and he couldn’t do that when the scent of her alone could push him into a madness growing out of his control. He needed to focus, and he couldn’t think when she was near him. She quickened that hard, primitive beat within his heart, within his groin, within his mind that overpowered reason or restraint. And he was afraid what it might take to satisfy it.

  So, he would hurt her with his distance and he’d hold his desires in tenuous check until he could figure out a way to deal with both. At least he had the consolation of knowing she was tucked away safely at Jimmy’s, freeing him to take care of other matters.

  “Savoie, I don’t give Cee Cee advice on how to live her life or with whom,” Babineau began in a tough, no-nonsense tone. “She wouldn’t listen to me anyway. But when it comes to my family, my word is the bottom line.”

  “Okay,” Max agreed, having a fairly good idea where he was going.

  “Don’t take this personally, but I don’t want someone like you hanging around them.”

  A wry smile. “I’m afraid I don’t know any other way to take it.”

  “You’ll get over it. Just stay away from them. You’re a smart guy. I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you.”

  “No. You don’t. I know how to spell.” Max put his dark glasses on, even though it was black outside, then he stood, noting that Babineau didn’t take a step back, the way most men did. “You have a nice family. Keep them safe.”

  “That’s my priority.” With a curt nod, he went to join his wife, standing in staunch support at her side until the last of the guests said good night.

  After exchanging a few words with Father Furness, Tina leaned into him with a fragile, “Let’s go home.”

  “Where’s Oscar?”

  “He went out to the car already.”

  Alain’s vague stir of uneasiness took a nasty turn when they left and he saw another shape sitting beside his stepson in the backseat. He jerked open the rear door to find himself staring at a huge black dog.

  “Oscar, where did this animal come from?”

  “Max told me I could have him stay with me tonight to keep me company. His name is Baby. Detective Caissie will tell you he’s really very smart and very loyal and that he’ll take care of me.”

  Babineau scowled. “Detective Caissie, huh? Where’s Savoie?”

  “He already left.” The boy’s arms looped around the big animal’s neck. “Please say he can. Just for tonight. I’ll take care of him. He won’t be any trouble. Please?”

  “It’s just one night,” Tina urged from the front seat.

  Babineau looked at the beast suspiciously, remembering their first encounter at Cee Cee’s stairs. He had no great fondness for dogs after a neighbor’s pet sent him to the ER as a child to get eight stitches. This animal had no collar, no tags, but it appeared well kept and mannerly. “Baby? What kind of name is that for a dog?”

  The animal seemed to grin at him.

  “All right but just for tonight, Ozzy. Don’t get too attached to him.”

  As the car started forward, Babineau glanced in the rearview mirror to see the big animal lie down with its big head on the boy’s lap. Its eyes met his in the mirror.

  They were strangely bright green.

  CEE CEE WENT right from the courthouse to the graveyard.

  A respectably sized group gathered out in the drizzle to put the two souls to rest. Father Furness had just begun the service. She could see the Babineaus in the front row, her partner’s arm curled protectively about his wife’s shoulders, Oscar sitting between them. She approached quietly to stand behind the filled rows of seats, her hair wilting in the mist as she observed that image of family from afar.

  Then a large umbrella opened above her head.

  “You’re all wet, detective.”

  She didn’t glance up at him, but her insides began a tight quivering. She was afraid to reach out to him, afraid she’d clutch too tight and wouldn’t be able to let go. She wasn’t sure what to say.

  Then he said it for her. “I’ve missed you. Things
aren’t right when you’re not with me.”

  His hand laced with hers and her world steadied. They stood together, hands linked, beneath the dark sky.

  As the attendees filed into the church for a meal laid out in the new multipurpose room built with Jimmy Legere’s money, Max hung back, oblivious to everything but the woman at his side.

  “Don’t you want to go in?” she asked, smiling faintly. “There’s probably sandwiches and green Jell-O salad and dry cake.”

  “I want you.”

  His soft reply made her heart leap into overdrive. Her smile grew nervous. “Right here in front of God and everyone?”

  “I can’t think of a better place than here.”

  “Out of the rain would be good.”

  He took her arm carefully and led her to the parking lot, moving slowly to accommodate her awkward gait. He opened the rear door to the town car and told Giles gruffly, “Go in and get something to eat.”

  Giles gave Cee Cee a quick look, waiting for her almost imperceptible nod. “Sure thing, boss man.”

  As their driver slid out, Cee Cee slid in—all the way to the opposite side of the big backseat, Max noted with some chagrin. He sat down on his own neutral side and shut the door. She didn’t look at him, seeming to be very interested in the backs of her hands.

  “Giles tells me you refused to go back to the house with him last night.”

  He watched her jaw tighten. “Giles talks too much.”

  “Is that because you didn’t want to be there with me?”

  “No. I didn’t want to be there without you.”

  “You weren’t at your apartment. I called. You didn’t answer your phone. Or your cell.”

  “I couldn’t sleep, so I went into work to put in some computer time. I turned off my phone because I didn’t want to be disturbed.”

  “By anyone, or just me?”

  “Don’t be childish, Max.”

  “Is that what I’m being, detective? I apologize. I know you’ve no patience for childish behavior.”