by Nancy Gideon
“I don’t know how it happened. I got so hot and cold inside, and all I could think of was stopping him, keeping him from hurting my mama. So I struck out at him and kept hitting him with my hands, only they weren’t my hands anymore.” He lifted his free hand, turning it to and fro as if he’d never seen it before. “He stopped, and at first I didn’t know what I’d done. And then everything inside him started to spill out, and there was so much blood. Blood on his shoes.” The red shoes. He stopped again, his breath shuddering as the horror caught up to him.
“But he wasn’t dead. Dying, probably, but not dead. He grabbed me by the hair and started dragging me toward the door. My mama knocked him to the floor, and she . . . she tore out his throat with her teeth. Only it wasn’t my mama; it was the same awful thing that I’d become. And then she was my mama again, and she rolled him up in our good rug and said, ‘Help me, Max. Help me get rid of him so they’ll never know he was here, so no one will know what we’ve done.’”
Charlotte sat up to put her arms around him, holding him fiercely as she listened to the rest of his flatly delivered recitation. Seeing it through the traumatized eyes of the child he’d been. Mother and son dragging their burden out into the moonlit swamp, filling the carpet with rocks and branches to make it heavier. And then standing there in the damp, in the dark, waiting for the evidence of what they’d done to sink out of sight.
“We went back home. I was so tired and so cold. And I started to cry and she— And she—” His body jerked sharply. “She told me I wasn’t to cry. That now I knew what I was—what we were. And that no one could ever know, or someone else would come to kill her and take me.
“So I didn’t cry, and I watched her scrub the floor all night until the stains were mostly gone. And I kept seeing those shoes—those red shoes. When I thought of them, I knew that there was something inside me that could protect us and keep us safe. I knew that I didn’t have to be like everyone else, and that the secret I had to keep was that I was stronger, more powerful then any of them.
“And I still am, Charlotte. For some reason, I am the best of what we are.”
Cee Cee pressed a kiss on the top of his head and laid her cheek there.
“And there was another secret I was never supposed to tell. Our females aren’t supposed to be able to shift. They have a bit of the glimmer, the extra sense, but not the ability to change shape. But my mother did. I don’t know what that means, but I think my father does. I have to find out why it’s so important to those who are trying to find me.”
“I can’t give you much time, Max. Not after what’s happened.”
“I know. How much do I have?”
“I’ll meet you tonight at the club.”
“Charlotte—”
“For a date. I have some great new shoes.”
“Yeah?”
She smiled at the interest perking up his tone, rubbing her cheek over his hair. “We’ll talk and decide then. Okay?”
He nodded.
“Max, don’t trust him,” she warned. “And don’t let him hurt you.”
“And you promise me one thing.” He lifted his head to look at her, deep worry in his eyes. “Promise you won’t try to take him unless I’m there. Please, Charlotte. For me.”
There wasn’t much she could deny him at that moment. Plus, she hadn’t quite figured out the logistics of bringing Rollo to justice. “They can’t take me if I don’t let them,” Max had said, and she was just beginning to realize how true that was. If he hadn’t been inclined to go with them, the NOPD never could have brought him in to the station. She remembered the way he was that first night at the club, ripping through those of his own kind to prove dominance. What chance would ordinary humans stand against him? Against Rollo, if he decided to be uncooperative? And there was damned little to convince her that he might be otherwise. If she was going to take down the maverick shape-shifter, she needed Max at her side.
But could he, would he, turn in his own father?
“All right.” She brushed her hand over the healed punctures in his arm. He rolled his head to the side so he could nip at her wrist and suck on her knuckles. Her other palm scooped under his chin, lifting him for the slow, luscious sampling of his lips.
“I want you, Savoie,” she murmured with a smoky curl of desire twining about her words. “I’m just out of time and energy at the moment.”
A smile, slightly smug, faintly uncertain. “You’ll come back here tonight? You’ll stay here with me?”
“Yes.” Oh, yes. The department be damned.
That satisfied his heart, just as she’d already satisfied his body. “I have to go.” He stretched up to kiss her lightly. “Don’t feel you have to hurry off.”
“Ummm, yes. I think I’ll just lounge around naked on your sofa for a while.”
His gaze caressed over her as he stood. “It could be your sofa if you wanted it to be.”
She smiled and lay back on the cushioned arm, her eyes closing as fatigue settled in. She’d just rest a minute. She drifted until the soft touch of his mouth on hers made her stir, and then she heard the sound of the pocket door sliding closed.
What had he meant?
Her eyes popped open. What had he meant by “your sofa” if she wanted it to be?
Fluttery panic set in around her heart. She sat up, pressing her palms over it to quiet the anxious beat. He hadn’t meant anything other than her staying here with him. That was all. She refused to read anything deeper into it.
Still, she scurried off the couch to gather up her scattered clothes, which Max had stacked neatly on a chair. She crushed them to her chest, her emotions bobbing crazily up and down in her throat.
When she thought of the anguished story he’d told her, she wanted to weep. But tears wouldn’t help him. Answers would. He was going to find his the only way he could, and she would discover her own to back him up.
She dressed quickly, then left the parlor and went into Jimmy’s office. She stood in the doorway, her gaze settling on the computer. What had Dev Dovion said about things getting ugly when it was personal?
She’d looked at Simon Cummings’s life from every angle and had found no reason for Rollo to attack his family with such methodical viciousness. But maybe the reason went back farther than she had researched. Back to when her father had put Etienne Legere away and Rollo had disappeared. But had something else been going on? Something deeper then she’d already discovered?
She sat at Jimmy’s keyboard, studying the blank screen. What secrets were stored on that hard drive?
“Can I help you with something, detective?”
The sound of Helen’s voice made her jump, but she didn’t try to hide her intent. “I was wondering if Jimmy had anything on here that would shed some light on this case I’m working on.”
“Simon Cummings, you mean.”
“Yes. But what I’m looking for would have been a long time ago.”
“Mr. Legere was a meticulous record keeper. He hired someone to come in and scan all his old files and clippings, from this year back to his father’s time. He was a firm believer that history repeated itself, so one had to keep an eye on the past.”
“An eye on the past. Yes. Would you happen to know his password?”
“Does Mr. Savoie know you’re looking into his private papers, detective?”
“He told you to give me anything I wanted, didn’t he?”
“It depends on which means more to you: your job or his trust.”
Cee Cee scowled at the housekeeper. She hadn’t wanted to look at it that way, but now that she was, she had to address it. With a curse, she pushed away from the desk. Not seeing Helen’s smile.
“It’s Etienne.”
“What?”
“The password. I trust you’ll only look where you need to, and will disregard the rest.”
Cee Cee grinned. “I’ll be the soul of discretion.”
The second Helen left the room, she pushed the power button and wen
t to work. Digging, searching, sifting through Etienne Legere’s almost illegible notes, finding her father’s name, then Cummings’s. She glanced up when Helen set a tray on the desk beside her.
“Your eggs, detective. And some fresh coffee.”
Surprise left her momentarily speechless.
“Don’t let them get cold.”
“Thank you, Helen.”
“Thank you, Charlotte.”
She made a quick call to Babineau, asking him to cover for her while she followed up on something. He caught the shiver of excitement in her voice and kept his questions to himself. She forked up the excellent egg dish while jotting shorthand notes onto a legal pad from the desk drawer. And slowly the story emerged.
Her ambitious father going out on his own to tap a civilian, Cummings, to assist in a dangerous game after information leaked out about Legere’s intentions. The slick and clever Etienne caught between his caution and his greed, cutting in Cummings in an effort to squeeze out his brother. The sting, sharp and devastating to Jimmy’s father.
But it wasn’t the money he’d lost, or even the chance he might go to prison if his lawyer couldn’t make the claim of entrapment stick. It was the fact that someone close had betrayed him. And since he could think of only one person who was close enough to know his plans, he struck out viciously, killing his brother. Who was as innocent as he was surprised.
Rollo. That was the only answer. Rollo had turned on his boss and had run before the consequences could catch him.
So why was he back? Why was he going after Cummings after all these years had passed? She had the connection but no reason. She still had no proof.
She’d make another hard run at Cummings. For some reason, her father had kept the young developer’s name out of his reports, away from the media. Why? One would think an ambitious businessman would love the chance to appear the hero. She needed to ask him why his involvement was silent, and why Rollo was out for his blood.
“Detective, a call for you.”
She glanced up at Jasmine, noticing the young woman’s discomfort around her. How had Max been able to win them all over, to inspire such loyalty when he was such an outsider, so isolated, so alien? How much did the household know about what he was? Would he be surprised to learn of their devotion?
She supposed he would. He always seemed so terribly confused as to why anyone would care for him. Well, that was something he’d just have to get over.
She responded to the young woman with a smile; she had some winning over to do herself. “Thank you.” Cee Cee picked up the desk cordless.
“Ceece, Noreen Cummings has made a statement,” Babineau charged right in. “She got a good look at him. She ID’d that new fella shadowing Savoie.”
A mixture of relief and regret sliced through Cee Cee. Max was off the hook, but that gave him little time to tie up his loose ends.
“Babs, can you sit on it until tonight? There’s more here, something going way back to Etienne Legere. Let me work through it.”
“Does this have to do with Savoie? Is he going to get in the way of you bringing one of his own down?”
“No.” She spoke with a lot more confidence than she felt. “He’ll let me do my job.”
“I’ll get the paperwork started, but I’ll wait for your call. Her condition is still guarded, so we don’t have to worry about the press for now.” But she could tell by his tone that he was worried about her.
“Thanks, Alain. I’ll stay in touch.” She clicked off.
She looked at the phone for a long moment, arguing with herself between emotion and responsibility. She owed Rollo nothing, but Max too much to even consider. She dialed.
“Savoie. Leave a message.”
“Max, time’s up.”
ROLLO LIFTED HIS cup of café au lait. “Been waiting for you. You look no worse for wear.”
“No more games.” Max drew out one of the plastic chairs beneath Café du Monde’s awning and sat. “Time for our Q and A.”
“All right, Max. You earned it. Fire away.”
“Cummings. Why are you after him?”
Rollo smiled faintly and sipped his coffee. “Her business before yours. Interesting.”
“It’s my business, too. I’m up for these murders.”
“No you’re not, boy. I saw to that for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your little girlfriend should be slipping you free of that chain any time now.”
“Why? Has this to do with the attack on his wife this morning?”
“I let her see me, Max. If you have any questions, you’d better ask them now.”
“Why Cummings?”
“Are you sure that’s what matters to you the most?”
No, but what he really wanted to know was too hard to verbalize. Why had Rollo risked himself to protect a son who meant nothing to him? Another move in the game he was playing? Or something else—something Max wasn’t sure he was ready to consider? He didn’t ask because he didn’t want the potential answer to tie him to this violent, dangerous being.
He tried to force up the image of Rollo crouched in the alley, grinning as he tormented that frightened, helpless bum with such heartless amusement. But he also felt the comforting weight of that big hand on the back of his head, the solid strength in the voice that said, “I’ve got you.”
“Answer, please.”
“A long time ago, I got restless being on Etienne Legere’s leash. He didn’t treat me as nicely as Jimmy did you. I saw a chance to better my lot and I took it. Simon Cummings wanted in on a project Legere was bankrolling. He wanted to make his mark in his daddy’s company, and he didn’t mind cutting legal or moral corners to do it. Don’t be fooled by his sanctimonious pap—back then, he had no qualms about authorizing substandard materials to take an extra cut of the cream. For a percentage, I put Cummings and Legere together.”
“There’s more. Tell me everything.”
“Some of it might strike a little close to home.” He smirked. “Cummings wasn’t the only one looking to make a name. Tommy Caissie was looking to come up in the world, too. He sniffed out Cummings’s set of double books and had him up against the wall.
“There was something in it for everyone. Cummings got his daddy’s approval. Caissie got his shield. And I was supposed to get my freedom—but somehow that didn’t pan out the way I planned it.”
Max sat and listened, hating it all. Some of it he already knew, some he’d guessed at. And some cut through him like a blade because of the impact it would have on the woman he loved.
“Of course,” Rollo drawled when he’d finished, “all that stays with me once I’m gone.”
“Charlotte’s not going to let you run.”
“Maybe you should convince her to look the other way.” His gaze grew sly. “Considering.”
“She wouldn’t listen, and I wouldn’t ask.”
“How about a little something to give your old man a head start, then?”
Max harbored few illusions about decency in the hearts of others. He knew exactly what Rollo was and what he wanted. And it wasn’t the chance to play daddy. “How much?”
Rollo stared at him, a bit amazed. “You don’t want to dance around for a little while first?”
“I don’t dance with other men.”
Rollo named a figure and Max nodded without a blink. “I’ll have it for you in cash within the hour. Then you’ll disappear.”
“Like I never existed.”
Max studied him somberly. “Did you know she could shift?”
Rollo looked startled. “Your mama? How do you think she got away from me? I had plans for us, for us and the children she would give me. I wasn’t sure of much, but I was sure we would have beautiful, phenomenal children.” His eyes grew dreamy as he looked back, then he glanced across the table and smiled wistfully. “She didn’t exactly run away with me of her own free will.”
He saw Max’s hands grip the edge of the table top and hurried
on. “Oh, she loved me and wanted to be with me, but I couldn’t convince her to break ties with her family. So I took her, and killed some of them along the way. She couldn’t go back, then—but she couldn’t forgive me, either. I would have been more careful if I’d known you’d already been conceived. She probably figured that out, too. So imagine my surprise when I came home one night and she was waiting with her eyes bloodred and fangs dripping. Hell of a temper, your mama. But she did love me, so she left me alive. Barely.
“I didn’t know where she’d gone until I heard whispers about you sending out that glimmer. The minute I heard, I knew you were my son. I went to Legere; figured he’d look after you in a way I couldn’t. Because they’d never given up looking for me.”
“And Jimmy gave you money. He bought me from you.”
Rollo shrugged. “He had his conditions that went with the cash. He was a clever one, always working the angles. As much as he wanted you, he wanted me gone—out of your life and away from Cummings. He’d stepped into his daddy’s shoes by then, and wasn’t about to get them dirty over the likes of me.
“Cummings owed me, and he hadn’t paid up like he was supposed to. Because of that, I had to live some pretty lean years, doing stuff I’d rather not recall just to survive. I figured I could bide my time, then take what was owed me in blood. But Jimmy wasn’t having any of my kind of vengeance. He wanted to bleed Cummings slow and steady for the long haul. If I wanted his money to get away clean, I had to cut all ties to you and forget about getting even.
“It’s not the deal I wanted, but I took it. I had to. He kept you safe, and that’s what mattered. They’d have found out about you if I’d stayed around, and I couldn’t take you both with me, even if your mama would have gone. Jimmy kept you under the radar, just like I asked. And then he went and got himself killed, and there you were, front-page news. So I figured I’d better drop by before someone else recognized your mama’s eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my son. The only one I’m aware of, anyway.”
Max stared at him, his expression conveying his disbelief.
