by Sandra Brown
"Jesus, will you listen to yourself?" Pat shouted."You and Duvall are in
a pissing contest like a couple of junior-high boys. Wake up, Burke, and
put this thing into perspective. One man's already dead over this mess,
and I take that hard because I had to kill him.
Whether he was dirty or not, Mac was one of my own men." Changing tones,
he said, "I'm begging you to give this up. Now.
You've got who you were ultimately after, and that's the cop that got
Kev killed. So let's pick up Mrs. Duvall, wherever you're keeping her,
and see her safely home."
"Not until I see the whites of Duvall's eyes."
"Okay, say you succeed in killing Duvall and Bardo, but you wind up in
prison on death row. Who have you spited?"
"I'm not taking her back."
"Worst-case scenario. What if Duvall survives and you go to prison?
Do you think he'll let it drop? Never. He'll hurt you any way he can.
Remember Sachel and his son? Duvall is ruthless. What's to keep him from
turning Nancy Stuart over to Bardo? He'll use the people you care for to
torture you. I've met your brother. He's a nice guy. You won't be able
to protect them, Burke. Not from a cell in Angola."
"All the more reason for me to make sure that neither one survives."
"Dammit, Burke, listen to me."
"No, you listen to me," Burke shouted back."I started this and I'm going
to finish it."
"I'll arrest you."
"For what?"
"Kidnapping."
"Have I written a ransom note? What evidence do you have that I took
Mrs. Duvall by force? Maybe she and I cooked this up together so she
could escape that tyrannical son of a bitch."
Pat shot him a retiring look."It's not too late to turn this thing
around. Duvall approached me shortly after the abduction and warned me
then that he was going to kill you. If you persist, you'll be on your
own. But if you come in with me now, you'll have the protection of the
department behind you."
"No thanks. The department " Before he could react, Pat's pistol was
coming down hard on his temple. He staggered toward the door,
pyrotechnics exploding behind his eyes. The pier beyond the screened
door seemed to stretch for miles, as though he were looking at it
through reversed binoculars. The tunnel of vision continued to shrink as
blackness closed in around it. Then it disappeared altogether.
His last conscious thought was of Remy. She was alone, waiting for his
return.
Burke came awake to the sound of voices, although the words
were indecipherable. Total awareness was slow in coming, but gradually
he discerned that he was indoors, lying on his side, that his hands were
shackled behind him, and that he had a bitch of a headache.
Wherever he was, there was a lot of activity going on beyond the walls.
He didn't actually see the emergency vehicle lights, but he felt their
pulsing against his closed eyelids. Until he knew more, he decided to
keep his eyes shut and pretend to be unconscious.
One of the voices finally distinguished itself.
Dredd was saying, "Been like Grand Central Station out here today," he
remarked grumpily."With all the coming and going, the fish won't bite
for a week."
"Like who?" Doug Pat asked.
"Like who what?"
Even though he was still half-addled, Burke realized that Dredd was
playing dumb. He wondered if Pat was aware of it.
"Who was out here today coming and going?" Pat asked.
"Oh, well, to start, two guys came by this morning, asking for
"What two
guys?"
"Didn't know them, but I'll tell you this, I don't care if they ever
come back. They were bad news."
"How do you know? What did they do?"
"Nothing in particular. It was just a feeling I got, you know?
It's been years since I was a cop, Pat, but the instinct hasn't left
me."
Burke sensed that Dredd was pausing to take a draw off his cigarette.
"They were dressed like fishermen, but if those two ever caught a fish
in their lives, I'll eat those gators over there."
"You did eat those gators over there."
Dredd chuckled."Right you are, Pat, but you know what I mean.
Anyhow, I rang up their six-packs of Bud in a hurry, and was glad to see
the last of them."
"What'd you tell them about Burke?"
"There wasn't any more to tell them than what I've told you. Burke was
by here several days ago."
"What day?"
"Can't recall exactly. I don't pay much attention to the calendar
anymore, although I did notice that tomorrow's Mardi Gras. Guess the
city's gearing up to "
"About Burke ..."
"Oh, right. Basile shot the breeze with me for a time, but he isn't what
you'd call talkative, you know. He bought a few things, then was off."
"And the woman was with him?"
"Woman is an understatement. Whooee!" In an undertone, Dredd added, "I
jerked off twice after they left. Who'd you say she is?"
Pat gave him the capsulated facts, which, of course, Dredd already knew.
When Pat finished, Dredd said, "Hmm. I'd never have figured her for
Basile's hostage. Didn't look to me like he was forcing her into
anything. She got right into the car with him."
"They left here by car?"
Dredd launched into an elaborate lie about the make, color, and model of
the nonexistent car. If the circumstances hadn't been so grave, Burke
would have laughed out loud."Since you can't see the main road from
here, I don't know which way they headed." Pat asked if there had been
another man with them, possibly a priest. Dredd laughed and said no,
that he avoided contact with clergymen, and Basile didn't strike him as
a religious sort either.
After a pause, he added, "I can't figure Basile for a kidnapper."
"Nor can I, but it appears he is."
"Tell me again, Pat, who's this fellow you popped?"
"Detective Sergeant Mac Mccuen."
"One of your own."
"Yeah," Pat said bitterly."He made a deal with Pinkie Duvall to return
with Burke and his wife. I followed Mac out here, and it's a good thing
I did. He was sent to assassinate Burke." He briefed Dredd on Mac's
dirty dealings within the department.
"You ever killed a man before, Pat?"
"Once. In the line of duty. It's not something you get over easily."
"Guess it all depends on how bad the guy needs killing," the retired
policeman said. Burke could imagine him raising one of his sunburned
shoulders in a shrug."You rid the department of a real dirty cop, this
Mccuen. Sounds to me like you saved everybody a lot of time and
trouble."
"I hate it that anybody had to die. All along I hoped to end this thing
peaceably. At least I spared Basile from making a mistake that he would
be paying for the rest of his life. Whether he thinks so or not, I've
done him a favor."
Dredd snorted his skepticism."Somehow I doubt he'll look upon being
knocked out and handcuffed as a favor. You'll have your hands full when
he wakes up."
"He's going to be pissed,"
Pat agreed, "but what I did, I did for his
own good. Damn his stubborn hide." Then he said, "There's the
ambulance."
Burke heard chairs scraping backward, the sound of shuffling feet.
"I'd better go supervise the transport of Mac's body and clear up the
paperwork with the parish officials. Soon as I get the ambulance
underway, I'll come back for Basile."
"What about Duvall's wife?"
"That's the first thing I'm going to ask Basile about when he comes
around. The lady must be taken home immediately."
Burke waited until Pat's footsteps could no longer be heard then opened
his eyes. As he'd already guessed, he confirmed that he was lying on a
sofa in Dredd's main room.
"How long you been awake?" Dredd asked in a whisper. He wasn't facing
Burke at all, but was standing at a window, calmly smoking, and watching
the commotion outside through the cloudy glass. Burke wondered, not for
the first time, if the traiteur was indeed a warlock with supernatural
powers. Beyond his healing abilities, did he have eyes in the back of
his head?
"Long enough to overhear Pat's recap of the situation."
"Was it like he said?"
"Exactly. I reached the cabin a few minutes before Mccuen got there and
hid my boat in the saw grass. When he and I came face to face, he
admitted to striking a deal with Duvall. He thought we could negotiate
with him and work it all out."
"Fuck that."
"My reaction exactly. Mac's future was at stake, so he wouldn't take my
no for an answer. He went for his gun. Pat had him under surveillance
and had followed him there. He must have had a bead on him.
The bullet went straight through his back to his heart. Now Pat's
hell-bent on playing the rest out by the book."
"He's only half your problem. Duvall is pulling out all the stops.
He's after you, son."
While appearing to do nothing except watch the loading of Mac's body
into the ambulance, Dredd told Burke about Gregory's coming to the store
and warning him of the gunmen who'd accompanied him.
"So what you told Pat about the two phony fishermen was true."
"Most of it," Dredd said."They were here, but they didn't leave."
The words had an ominous ring that halted any further questioning.
Burke thought he was better off not knowing the fate of the two men.
"What about Gregory?"
"There's hope for the boy. He could've screwed us over good, but he came
through. I told him to hightail it, and he took my advice."
"Good." He pulled against the handcuffs."Get me out of these damn
things."
Dredd turned away from the window."The body is loaded and Pat is
conferring with the sheriff. We've got maybe ninety seconds to get you
away from here."
"Where's my gun?"
"Pat's got it. But you can borrow one of mine."
Dredd took a Magnum.357 from a drawer, checked to see that all the
chambers were loaded, scooped up a box of bullets, then assisted Burke
to his feet. His legs were wobbly and his head felt like a watermelon
precariously balanced on his shoulders as he followed Dredd through the
misshapen assortment of rooms and out a back door.
In a toolshed, which seemed to contain every implement invented since
the Iron Age, Dredd located a pair of bolt cutters and snipped off the
handcuffs. He gave Burke the pistol and the bullets, then pulled a boat
from beneath the pier.
"You're using up my boats like a horny kid with a box of rubbers.
At the rate you're disposing of them, I'll soon be out of business."
"I'll make it up to you, Dredd."
"Yeah, yeah, just try and not get yourself killed before you do.
The boat's gassed up, but don't start the motor until you've gone at
least half a mile. You up to rowing that far?"
"I've got no choice. Remy's out there alone."
"Basile? You like that girl?" The two men exchanged a long look, but all
Burke said was, "Thanks again, Dredd."
"Don't mention it. Good luck and ... oh, shit. I hate this part."
Burke slammed his fist into Dredd's chin, and even his bushy beard
couldn't cushion the blow. Then as he fell backward, Burke clouted him
once more on the side of the head, regrettably having to make it look
like he'd overpowered him. However, he didn't hit him hard enough to
cause the older man too much residual pain.
Then he jumped into the boat and pushed away from the pier.
As he reached for the oar, a shout went up and he heard running
footsteps.
To hell with rowing, he started the outboard and gunned it.
As early as noon, Remy began watching for him. She had even held off
eating lunch in anticipation of his being hungry when he got back and of
them eating together. But noon came and went with no sign of him.
During the long afternoon, she ventured outside and tried to enjoy the
first sunny day she had experienced in the swamp, but she couldn't
totally relax and take in its exotic beauty because her mind was
preoccupied with Basile and what could be keeping him away so long.
Sunset increased her anxiety. Like a sentinel at his post, she paced
every inch of the pier. She listened to catch the sound of the trolling
motor above night sounds of the swamp, which originally had frightened
her, but which she now found familiar and somewhat comforting.
When dusk gave way to night, she went back inside. For added safety, she
didn't light the lantern, so her vigil was continued in complete
darkness. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, but she wasn't hungry.
What had happened when Basile returned to Dredd's Mercantile?
What if, somewhere along the way, he'd been ambushed by the three men
who'd come to the shack last night, ostensibly searching for Father
Gregory?
What if Pinkie had men waiting to attack him when he returned to
Dredd's?
What if he and Dredd had been killed and no one knew where she was?
The grim possibilities marched relentlessly through her mind. Finally
exhaustion forced her to lie down and close her eyes. In her turbulent
state of mind, she had thought sleep was impossible, so when she was
abruptly awakened, her first reaction was surprise that she'd fallen
asleep Her second reaction was to wonder what had awakened her. As when
she had been awakened by Angel and one of her countless men, Remy lay
perfectly still, heart pounding.
What had startled her out of sleep? A sound? A menacing movement in the
darkness? A premonition of danger?
She strained to hear a sound, but there was nothing. Had she been
awakened by the vibration of a boat bumping into one of the pilings
supporting the pier?
Was she just going to lie here and pretend to be invisible as she had in
her corner of Angel's sordid world? She was no longer a child.
She had declared to Basile that she would never be a victim again.
What or who could be more threatening than the man she'd lived with for
twelve years? She had withstood Pinkie's cruel psychological abuse, she
could withstand anything.
Slipping out of bed, she crept acros
s the room and located a kitchen
knife. It was dull, but it was the closest thing she had to a weapon
since Basile had taken his pistol. As an afterthought, she also grabbed
the lantern and a matchbook, then she moved to the nearest window and
peeped out.
She saw a form, nothing more than a darker shadow among shadows,
tiptoeing along the pier. Once, he paused as though listening, then
continued moving silently toward the shack.
Remy sank to the floor and gripped the knife. She wondered exactly how
one went about using a Coleman lantern as a weapon.
When the door's rusty hinges creaked, the intruder hesitated before
pulling it open only wide enough for him to slip inside. He eased it
closed behind him.
"Remy?"
Her heart nearly burst with relief."Burke?"
She shot to her feet and ran toward him, but drew up short when she saw
