by Leann Harris
Guy stepped forward. “What do you intend to do with them?”
“That’s none of your business,” Roger replied.
“This time it is,” Guy answered, a determination in his voice that Jean-Paul had never heard before. “Let them go.”
Roger gaped at Guy. “Are you insane? If this scandal gets out, your shot at the governorship is gone.”
“That was your dream for me, Father, not mine. You’ve already sacrificed Marianna. You can’t have Angeline, too.” Guy held out his hand. “Give me the gun.”
Jean-Paul thought he heard something outside. Sirens maybe. He prayed it was the good guys.
Roger’s gaze hardened. “Get out of the way.”
“No.” Guy tried to wrestle the gun away from his father. A shot rang through the room and Guy fell to the floor.
Dennis surged forward, but Jean-Paul threw his body against the sheriff, knocking him off balance. They staggered backward.
The library door flew open and several state troopers filed into the room.
“What’s going on here?” one of the troopers demanded. He looked at Roger, who was now holding the gun; then at Guy, on the floor, clutching his stomach. “You want to give me that gun, sir?”
For an instant, Jean-Paul thought Roger was going to bolt from the room. But suddenly, his body sagged and he handed over the weapon.
“Call an ambulance,” the trooper told his fellow officer. After he’d left the room, the man asked Roger, “Did you shoot this man?”
“We were fighting over the gun,” Roger offered, seeming to come out of his shock. “It accidentally went off.”
“He—” Angeline pointed to Roger “—had just ordered the sheriff to kill me and Jean-Paul.”
The trooper took off his hat and looked at the individuals in the room. “Who’s Guy Boudreaux?”
“That’s me.” Guy raised his hand, gasped and clutched his side again.
The trooper squatted beside the injured man. “You’re the one who called the state police?”
Guy nodded. “What she says is true. The sheriff was going to kill my daughter and Jean-Paul. He’s already killed Angeline’s mother.”
“That’s a lie,” Dennis yelled. “Who’re you gonna believe? Me, the sheriff, or the ramblings of an alcoholic?”
The trooper turned to his colleagues. “Take the sheriff and the shooter into custody. Be sure and read them all their rights. We don’t want any complaints.”
While the two men were being cuffed and led out of the room, Angie knelt beside her father and cradled his head in her lap.
“Hang on,” she whispered.
He gave her a watery smile. “I couldn’t let him kill you, too.”
She soothed back the hair from his brow. “I know.”
Jean-Paul appeared beside her, minus his cuffs. “How is he?”
Guy looked up at him. “You were right, Jean-Paul. I’ve been a coward all my life. But maybe it’s not too late to rectify some of my mistakes. There’s a hidden room behind the south wall of this room. Dad didn’t know I knew about it. Pull on the last book on the third shelf from the bottom, to open the door. Maybe you’ll find the evidence you need in there.”
Before he could say more the paramedics arrived, pushing Jean-Paul and Angeline out of the way. Tears ran down Angeline’s face as she watched them work to stabilize her father.
“Angeline,” Jean-Paul whispered.
She looked at him. Her face was ravaged by the emotions that were tearing her apart. She reached up and touched his injured cheek.
“You’re bleeding again.”
Jean-Paul didn’t care about his damn cheek. He needed to tell her that he was sorry for this mess.
“Chère—”
“You were right all along. But I think maybe my father’s paid the price for his actions.” She sniffed back her tears.
The paramedics placed Guy on the gurney and started to wheel him out. Angeline looked from her father to Jean-Paul. Her indecision as to whether to go with her critically injured father or stay with Jean-Paul was easy to read in her face. The least he could do was ease her burden.
“Go with your papa. I need to stay here and answer questions. We’ll talk later.”
Angie hesitated a moment, then nodded. At the door, she stopped one of the paramedics and pointed to Jean-Paul. “He needs his cheek looked at.”
Jean-Paul waved the man away. “I’m fine.”
But the truth was he wasn’t. He was worried as hell that the fallout from tonight’s events would somehow separate him from Angeline.
* * *
Jean-Paul parked his truck, which he’d retrieved from the woods where Leroy had left it, in the hospital parking lot and stared at the building. It had taken nearly twenty-four hours to get away from the Boudreaux house. The papers he and the state troopers had found in the hidden room would provide enough evidence to put Roger and Dennis away for the rest of their lives.
Numerous law-enforcement agencies had been called in. Since it wasn’t clear if the local district attorney could be trusted, they had turned the information over to the state’s DA. Jean-Paul had to guide the man through the tortuous scheme of oil leases. In the process, Jean-Paul discovered papers on his frame-up, and Dennis’s and Edward’s complicity in the deed. But the satisfaction Jean-Paul thought would come with winning his war against Roger never appeared. Instead, all he could think about was Angeline.
She had changed him, brought him a joy and peace he’d never known before. When she had told him the other night she loved him, he had been afraid to believe her. How could she love both him and Guy when he’d hated Guy most of his life? And now he’d ruined Guy’s future and helped put her grandfather in prison. He wouldn’t change what he’d done, but he feared Angeline might find it difficult to love him.
In spite of how he’d blackened Guy’s name, Angeline had seen something in her father and brought out the goodness in him. But why did Jean-Paul find that so unusual? Hadn’t she come into his life and changed him for the better? Hadn’t she taught him how to love again?
Angeline had seen something good in her father to believe in. He prayed she saw something in him, Jean-Paul, that would make her want to spend the rest of her life here in Louisiana with him. At least, now with the evidence they’d found, he had a future to offer her.
* * *
Angie pulled her hand from Guy’s. He’d finally gone to sleep after they’d moved him from intensive care to a private room. He would live. The bullet had missed all vital organs but had caused extensive tissue damage.
She glanced down at her watch. Where was Jean-Paul? It had been nearly a day since they’d arrived at the hospital and still Jean-Paul had not come. She’d called the mansion several times, but each time the officials told her they were still sifting through things.
Fear gnawed at her stomach. After hearing Roger confess to all the evil deeds he’d done, she realized that Jean-Paul’s hatred for the Boudreaux family was well-founded and justified. Roger had robbed Jean-Paul’s parents of their wealth, destroyed his career and had him sent to prison. Yet, in spite of the bitterness Jean-Paul felt, he’d still given generously of himself and helped her.
He had been there for her through the whole ordeal of discovering who she was, never once abandoning her. He’d believed in that passionate part of her personality and nurtured it until it bloomed. He had taught her how to be at ease with herself. More importantly, he had taught her to love.
But the question that plagued her mind was, Could Jean-Paul forget she was a Boudreaux and love her?
“Angeline.” His voice came from the doorway.
She looked at him. He appeared tired, haggard and the most welcome sight in the world. He motioned for her to join him in the hall.
“How is he?” he asked when the door to the room closed.
“He should recover completely.”
He looked relieved. “I’m glad.”
Was he truly? Did he hold it aga
inst her that she’d gone with Guy?
“Did you find the evidence?” Her insides were quaking. She wanted him to take her in his arms.
“Yes. Everything we need to make a case against Roger and Dennis was there. Roger was very maniacal in keeping a record of his deeds.”
Her brows knitted into a frown. “But isn’t that rather stupid, to document your crimes? Roger struck me as someone shrewder than that.”
“I think Roger’s ego was so big that he thought he’d never get caught. He kept the records as a snub to society. In his own way he was saying, ‘See, I’m more cunning than you.’”
Chills raced over her skin.
“And without Guy’s help, we never would’ve found any of that evidence.” Jean-Paul stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. He glanced down at the floor, then at her. “You made a difference in his life, Angel. Just as you’ve made a difference in my life.”
“How have I made a difference, Jean-Paul?”
“You gave Guy something to believe in and fight for.”
She stepped closer to him. “And what about you? How have I made a difference to you?”
“You’ve taught me to believe again. That what is true and just and beautiful will always win.” He cupped her face. “I love you, Angel. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you, seeing the world through your eyes and learning how sweet life can be. Will you marry me, chère?”
She wanted to yell yes with every fiber of her being, but she needed to know if he could accept her for who she was. “I’m a Boudreaux, Jean-Paul. Can you live with that? Can you live with the fact that I want a relationship with my father? Does your love include that?”
A tender smile curved his lips. “Yes, chère, it does. In fact, I would have you no other way, because if you were different I would no longer have my Angeline.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “I love you.”
“Will you marry me?” he whispered in her ear.
She pulled back and gazed into his eyes. “Mais sho’, I’ll marry you.”
His laughter rang down the hall. “I’ve made a Cajun of you, yes?”
Indeed he had. He’d also given her a home and a love that would last a lifetime.
Epilogue
Angie cradled the five-month-old infant in her arms and rocked him softly, hoping he’d quit fussing.
“Here, give him to me,” Jean-Paul said, holding out his arms.
She surrendered the baby to his father’s arms. The sight of so small a bundle of humanity cradled so tenderly in Jean-Paul’s huge arms brought warmth to Angie’s heart.
“He’s a happy man,” Henri Colton commented.
Angie laughed. “He’s not the only one. Your grin goes from ear to ear.”
“That’s because I’m marrying Eleanor today.”
The courtship of Henri and Eleanor had run a close second as a topic of conversation to Roger’s trial and Jean-Paul’s reinstatement to the bar. Jean-Paul had taken the job of DA of the parish after the previous one resigned.
Angie glanced down at her watch. “It’s time, gentlemen, for the wedding to begin.”
Jean-Paul handed the baby back to Angie, then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Viens, mon ange. Let’s go help Henri and Eleanor celebrate.”
Angie followed Jean-Paul into the church. Miracles still did happen in this day and age. She held the newest one in her arms.
* * * * *
ISBN: 978-1-4592-8709-9
Angel at Risk
Copyright © 1995 by Barbara M. Harrison
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