by Mallory Kane
He didn’t move a muscle, except to lift the cup to his mouth, as he watched the players in the drama he’d set into motion take their places.
Mrs. Maxwell, looking pale but composed, walked toward her car. Maxwell headed for his car, his attention on his wife. The police captain and the big Cajun detective came out together, and stood talking on the banquette.
Fontenot’s blood throbbed in his veins with the familiar, sensual heat that only the power gave him—the power he held over life and death. He tensed his thigh muscles, and controlled his shuddering breath as Mrs. Maxwell opened her car door. In another few seconds they would all understand that he held their lives in his hands.
DANA CLIMBED INTO HER CAR, trying to ignore Cody, who stood by his own car watching her. She realized she was still carrying his jacket. She tossed it into the back seat, shot a glare in Cody’s direction and sighed. She would get no peace until she’d satisfied Captain Hamilton and Cody. With an exasperated glance toward her car’s clock, she slipped the key into the ignition and turned it.
Suddenly, her world exploded into light—blinding light, flashing all around her. Instinctively she cringed, waiting for the inevitable explosion.
A strong hand dragged her from the car and threw her onto the ground. Then a huge weight fell on her and they rolled over and over. Stones and rough pavement bruised her back, and she would have bumped her head, except that a warm palm cradled it.
Cody groaned with pain, then scrambled up and jerked her up. “Come on!” he shouted.
Dana ran with him. She stumbled, caught herself, stumbled again, until finally Cody pulled her abruptly up against his chest. His heart pounded fiercely, just like hers.
“Are you all right?” he whispered raggedly in her ear, his voice hoarse and unsteady. His whole body shuddered, and he crushed her so tight she couldn’t breathe.
“I think so,” she gasped. “Wh-what was that?”
Cody took a deep breath, his chest swelling against her breasts. “I thought it was a bomb. God, Dana! I thought you were dead.” His arm tightened convulsively around her.
Dana stared at him, stunned, as his words sank in. “A bomb?”
Cody took another long breath as Dev grabbed both of them.
“You guys okay?” Dev’s voice was as breathless and hoarse as Cody’s.
“Damn, man,” the big Cajun continued. “I thought—”
“What was it, Dev?” Cody asked, turning Dana loose.
She swayed and caught herself.
Dev and Cody headed toward the car.
“Cody, don’t—” But as usual, no one was listening to her. She followed at a distance as the two men cautiously approached her car. Cody pushed his fingers through his hair and wiped his face. Dev’s face was pale under his black hair and beard.
Uniformed policemen swarmed over the car, and Dana heard one of them shout as he knelt beside the car. “Here’s the trigger.”
Cody glanced back at her, then followed Dev. She stepped closer, in time to hear Dev’s words.
“It was nothing but a lot of light, Code. Tiny flashbulbs going off around the dashboard.” Dev let out a string of curses that would have embarrassed Dana, if she hadn’t been so dazed and shaken by the explosion of light.
Cody doubled his fist and hit the fender. “That son of a bitch!” he cursed between his teeth.
“Cody?” Dana squeaked.
He turned around and held out his arms. She stepped into his embrace and squeezed her eyes shut. The echo of the flashing lights still burned behind her closed lids. She let her head rest in the hollow between his neck and shoulder just for a moment. She felt safe there.
“What was it?” she asked, her words muffled by the cloth of his shirt.
He put one hand on the back of her head, gently holding her. For a fleeting instant she wished she could stay there forever, safe in Cody’s arms.
“That bastard Fontenot. He rigged your car with flashbulbs.”
“Flashbulbs? Are you serious?” Dana pulled away as reality intruded into her brief fantasy of safety. “I wasn’t away from the car but a few minutes.”
“That’s right, Code. She couldn’t have gotten there more than five minutes before you.” Dev’s deep voice came from behind her. “There’s no way he could have done it. Look around. There are uniforms everywhere.”
Cody clenched his fists and anger suffused his features. “Well he did it. Don’t you get it? He rigged it right out here in the open, in front of everybody. It’s another message. Dana could have been blown apart. The trigger for those flashbulbs could have just as easily been a bomb.” His arms tightened reflexively around her.
“But they weren’t,” she protested weakly, shivering as she grasped the full implication of what Fontenot had done, and saw the dark intensity of Cody’s gaze.
“A bomb…” she whispered, shaking her head. “In my car. But why? Cody, why? I never did anything to the man.”
Cody grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly. “Dana, get it through your head. It’s because of me. It’s because he thinks you mean something to me. His only motive is to get at me, and he thinks he can do that through you.” He set her aside as if she were nothing more than a hat rack.
That’s exactly what she felt like. An inanimate object, something that could be used by Fontenot in revenge against Cody. But his plan would work only if she meant something to Cody. Cody’s harsh words echoed in her ears.
It’s because he thinks you mean something to me.
But of course she didn’t. Nothing meant anything to Cody except his job. She knew that. She’d known it for a long time, and she’d do well not to forget it.
Dev and Cody walked back toward the car, talking to the uniformed officers and inspecting the fake bomb made of flashbulbs that had been pulled out from under the car.
Her car looked perfectly innocuous now. She shuddered. Maybe it would be a good idea to visit her sister in Pensacola. She’d be safe there.
Cody’s head was bent over the bundle of wires and bulbs, and he was pulling on latex gloves. She could tell by his stiff movements that his shoulder was hurting.
She could leave town, but what would Cody do? Where would he be safe? Dana lifted her chin. It didn’t matter, she reminded herself. It didn’t matter to her what he did. He was no longer her responsibility.
“Maxwell!” a deep, resonant voice boomed. “Get your butt over here!”
Dana looked around to see the captain in an unmarked police car.
“You, too, Mrs. Maxwell. Get in the car.”
There was no brooking the authority in his voice, so Dana got into the police captain’s car and scooted across the back seat as Cody got in beside her.
An hour and a half later, Dana was frustrated, and hot, and thirsty. She regretted refusing the muddy precinct house coffee, she was tired of sitting on the hard wooden chair, and if the young officer taking her statement didn’t start using more than two fingers to type, she thought she might scream.
Finally, he finished painstakingly typing her last answer on the ancient electric typewriter, with only two erasures, and yanked the sheet of paper.
“Now, Mrs. Maxwell, if you’ll just sign here.”
Dana resisted her lawyer’s urge to read back over the statement. She’d gone over the events of last night and this morning at least a dozen times, and she did not want to take the chance of having to go over them a thirteenth time. Grabbing the pen, she dashed off her signature and dated the document. “May I leave now?”
The officer swallowed, and cut his eyes around to the captain’s office. Just as he did, Cody walked in with his arm in a sling.
He looked pale, and his eyes looked tired.
“Cody…”
He came over to where she was sitting, flashing a faded version of his angelic grin. “Hey, chère. Have they finished grilling you? No rubber hoses, I hope.”
Dana opened her mouth, but she didn’t even get a chance to squeak.
“Maxwell! Get in here. Bring your wife.”
“Ex—” Oh, what was the use? She sighed and stood.
Cody placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her into the captain’s office, where Dev leaned on the windowsill.
“Did you get patched up, Maxwell?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right then.” Captain Hamilton sat up in his chair. “Sit down, Mrs. Maxwell. Now, given what’s happened, last night and today, I think the best idea is for you and your wife to vacate the area until we’ve apprehended Gerard Fontenot.”
Cody tensed. “Captain—”
“Shut up, Maxwell. Now, we need to put you two in a safe house.”
“I’m staying here.”
Dev spoke. “Get real, Code. You’re injured.”
“It’s just a flesh wound. I know Fontenot. I need to be in on this. Get Dana out of town. But let me stay.”
“Out of the question,” the captain growled.
“But—”
“Maxwell, I’m warning you. Now, Gautier. Where can we put them?”
Dev opened his mouth, but Dana took a deep breath and broke in. “Captain, excuse me, but don’t I have a say in what’s going on here?”
The captain glowered at her.
She continued before he could say no. “I could go to Pensacola, to my sister’s.”
All three men glared at her.
“What?”
Cody put his hand on her shoulder. Its warmth seeped into her and she had to fight to keep from leaning toward him, toward the safety his warm body promised. He’s not safe. He’s dangerous.
“Dana, it’s too risky. Fontenot probably knows all about your sister.”
“But you said—”
“I was wrong.” His face was grim as he looked down at her. “I don’t want to underestimate him.”
Again. The unspoken word hung in the air.
“Fontenot’s lived in New Orleans all his life. We can’t take a chance that he’ll know our safe houses,” Dev commented. “The man seems to be superhuman.”
Dana put her hand over Cody’s. “What about the lake house?” she asked.
Cody glanced at her, then at Dev. “It could work. It’s in her grandfather’s best friend’s name. He’s in a nursing home. It’s not connected with us, and it’s on the north shore of the Pontchartrain.”
“You could be followed,” Captain Hamilton said, just as his phone rang.
He picked it up and listened. “Is that confirmed?”
Dana waited tensely. She could feel a similar tension in Cody and Dev. She licked her lips.
Hamilton put the phone receiver down and looked at Cody. “We just got word that Fontenot rented a car.”
Cody frowned. “How’d we find that out?”
“I’ve had an all-points out on all flights, trains and rental car agencies. Now, listen. He asked for a map of Pensacola.”
“Angie,” Dana breathed, in alarm. “Oh, God, Cody. He’s going to Angie’s.”
Cody’s fingers squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, chère, we’ll alert the Pensacola police.”
“All right, Maxwell. You two get a move on. Take one of the unmarked cars. And leave complete info on this lake house of yours. Now, get going.” He picked up the phone. “Get me the chief of police in Pensacola. Now!”
Two hours later Cody and Dana were at the lake house. Dana pulled the last bag of groceries out of the trunk of the unmarked police car as Cody unlocked the cabin door. She pushed past him into the tiny kitchen. “I still can’t help worrying about Angie,” she muttered as she unpacked milk and coffee and oranges.
“Don’t. The captain alerted Pensacola police, and Dev’s driving over there himself. They’ll take care of her.”
“Oh, yeah? Like they took care of you? I don’t see why Captain Hamilton had to send you up here.”
“Hey, I’m not thrilled to be here. I need to be back in New Orleans, helping with the investigation. They don’t understand Fontenot like I do. Damn!” Cody tossed the other grocery bags onto the counter, then headed back out the door.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I thought I’d take a look around.”
“The doctor said you needed to rest and drink lots of liquids to make up for the blood you lost.”
“Dana,” he said with deliberate patience. “There is a madman out there who wants to kill me, and he won’t mind killing you to get to me. So I think I’ll just take a look around to be sure nobody followed us.”
Dana laughed. “Are you kidding? Followed us? The way you were driving? Besides, isn’t that why we’re here? Because Fontenot couldn’t possibly know about this place?”
“Indulge me, counselor. Pretend I’m checking for mildew or dry rot or something.”
“Fine,” she said, waving a bunch of carrots at him. “Go. I don’t care if your shoulder starts bleeding again if you don’t. Go play detective. I’m going to start supper. I haven’t eaten anything all day.” As Cody disappeared through the door, she turned her attention back to the vegetables she was pulling out of the grocery sack.
She wasn’t happy at all with Captain Hamilton’s suggestion that she and Cody stay at the lake for three or four days while the police tracked down Fontenot. Suggestion—ha! Order was more like it. She rinsed two tomatoes and began peeling them.
How was she going to stay here with Cody for three days? Three whole days of his know-it-all attitude, and his laughing blue eyes and his angelic smile. Dana stopped her thoughts right there. Captain Hamilton could have just as easily sent another officer up here with her, and sent Cody somewhere else. Anywhere else.
But no. The captain had ordered them up here together. Dana reluctantly admitted to herself that he was right on two counts. Cody needed to be away from New Orleans and Dana felt safer with Cody than she would have with anyone else. She smiled reluctantly. It was fairly obvious the captain had an ulterior motive, too. He wanted to get Cody out of his hair while they tracked down Fontenot. Cody wouldn’t be much help with a wounded shoulder, but the captain obviously knew her husband. Ex-husband, she corrected herself. Cody would want to be right in the middle of the investigation.
“So I’m a glorified, unpaid baby-sitter, right?” She stuck a piece of tomato in her mouth.
Three days with Cody. It was a good thing she wasn’t vulnerable to his charm anymore. She was over him. She dried her hands and walked through the kitchen into the single bedroom.
Everything looked to be in pretty good shape. She folded the bedspread back and smoothed the sheets, taking a deep breath. The air was fresh and cool, no mildew.
She plumped the pillows, then smoothed her palms across the soft, worn cotton. The last time they’d been up here together was the weekend they’d made their baby.
Pain slashed through her breast like a sabre. Her breath caught. She sank to the edge of the bed and pulled a pillow into her arms, hugging it like she would have hugged their baby, if it had ever been born. The pain and grief flared briefly, reminding her that it had been there, dull and constant, ever since the night of her miscarriage.
Deep inside, in her secret heart, she knew it was unfair to blame Cody. People lost babies all the time, didn’t they?
That’s really all it was, an unfortunate miscarriage, even if it had coincided with the night Fontenot shot Cody.
There are dozens of reasons for miscarriages, Mrs. Maxwell, the doctor had said kindly, as he’d patted her hand. Women often miscarry in the first month or so and never even know they were pregnant. He’d carefully explained that she would have probably miscarried, anyway, and that early miscarriages generally indicated that the fetus was defective.
Fetus. She’d wanted to scream then, and she wanted to scream now. It wasn’t a fetus, it was her baby. Their baby.
She’d only missed one period, so she’d hardly been pregnant at all. Still, the pain had stayed, the pain of loss, of loneliness, of shattered dreams. And facing the death o
f her baby and the near death of her husband had been too much to take all at once.
She’d forgotten all the memories that were stored inside these walls.
“Chère, you okay?”
Cody’s voice penetrated the cloud of memories surrounding her. She stood abruptly, tossing the pillow onto the bed and clearing her throat. “Sure. I’m fine.” She composed her face, then turned to look at him.
He stood framed in the doorway, his mouth set and his eyes dark, as if he were hurting.
“Are you ready to eat?”
He shook his head. “Not right now. You sure you’re okay?”
“I really think you should eat something.”
He stepped toward her, glancing toward the bed then back at her face. “Dana, what were you doing?”
“Just…just checking the sheets for mildew. Everything’s fine.”
“No, everything’s not fine.” He touched her shoulder.
Dana ducked out of his reach, panic swelling her chest. “Yes. Yes, it is.”
“You were remembering the last time we were up here, weren’t you?”
She shook her head jerkily. “No. No, I—”
He stepped closer, and tucked a stray tendril of her hair behind her ear. “It’s okay. I remember, too. I’m sorry, chère. If it would help to talk, you know I’m here for you.”
“Really?” she asked, her voice sharp. “That’s funny. It seems to me you’re right where you’ve always been, on the edge of danger. Not here with me at all.”
“Don’t do this, Dana. Not to me. Not to yourself.”
“Do what?” She pulled away again and headed for the door. “I was just checking the sheets. Now, I’m going to fix supper. You look tired.”
Cody’s blue eyes flashed, then went dull. “I’m okay,” he said in a low voice. “Everything looks fine around the cabin. I’m going to walk down to the lake.”
“Damn it, Cody. You never take care of yourself. You look like you haven’t slept in a week, you’re pale and shaky, and you’ve worn the same clothes for two days. Why don’t you take a shower and go to bed? You need some rest.”
He just stood there, his arms crossed, a wry smile curving his lips. “You know, chère, you don’t have to tell me what I need. Especially since you can’t even admit your own needs. I can take care of myself. I’m all grown up now.”
