Mississippi Blues

by D'Ann Lindun

  “Get off me!”

  A definite call for aid.

  Shaking off his doubts, Jace streaked across the meadow. He had to save the girl. He picked up a heavy stick and advanced. Before he got close enough to help, she somehow managed to get the guy off her, jumped out of a Jeep and ran past Jace, swerving like a scared rabbit. The would-be rapist stumbled out of the vehicle and hobbled after her, one hand on his crotch. Had she racked him? Good for her.

  Jace faded into the darkness, waiting until the man grew even with him, then he reached out a foot and tripped the chaser who sprawled in a heap at Jace’s feet. Before he thought it out, Jace hit him on the head with the branch. The guy went limp. Jace kicked him hard in the ribs until the guy groaned.

  Reality grabbed him before he killed the guy. This wasn’t the creep who raped Mama.

  The last time Jace went after a rapist, he found himself convicted of murder. Shit. Had he killed this moron? Leaning down, he reached to feel for a pulse. Halfway there he stopped. He couldn’t risk leaving evidence of any kind. While he debated, the guy groaned and stirred. He had a knot on his forehead and a trickle of blood coming out of the corner of his mouth, but he’d live.

  Jace had to get out of here before the guy came to and reported him. He’d find himself back in Angola before dawn. Where was the girl? He looked around, but she’d disappeared like mist. Where had she run to? The boat? Double damn. He’d eaten and changed out of his prison-issue outfit into some clothes he’d found on the boat, but the jumpsuit and candy wrappers were still on the floor. Anyone with half a brain could tell he’d been there.

  He sidled up to the Jeep and took the keys from the ignition, then slipping through the nighttime forest, approached The Emily. Reaching the boat, he slowed. Silent as death, he made his way along the dock. At the ladder, he paused. Nothing made a sound, but the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He sensed a trap. With all his senses on alert, he turned and scaled the ladder. Nothing.

  Easing the door open, he moved inside.

  A small whimper from the corner let him know he wasn’t alone. Again he froze. She had beat him here. He waited for his vision to clear before he moved again. Gradually, his eyes adjusted to the dark, and he spotted her curled up on the corner of the couch, trying to hide. He stepped further inside, closing the door behind him. She made another small noise.

  “Who are you?” He couldn’t believe how soft he was being. He ought to pick her up and toss her overboard. The cons in the yard would laugh themselves silly if they could see him playing hero.

  She made a sound low in her throat.

  Turning the lamp on low, he stood by the door. She curled up in a fetal position and whimpered again. Moving beside her, he knelt and reached for her scratched, bloody arm. At the last second, he jerked his hand back. There was no way he would touch her, leave DNA and incriminate himself in this crime. “Look, you’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got your keys.”

  Sobs wracked her body. He realized she was crying so hard her body shook. He had his own problems. Frightened she was going to bring the cops down on him, he lost patience. “Are you hurt? If not, you’ve got to get up and get the hell out of here.”

  She curled up tighter as if she hadn’t heard.

  “You’ve got to go.” His desperation built. He’d already spent way too much time with her. She had to pull herself together and go home. Her skirt had ripped all the way up, scrunched under her, just a piece of tattered material. Even though her smooth, bare legs were scratched and blood streaked he couldn’t help checking out her shapely thighs and the tiny scrap of red material covering the enticing V where they met. Five years behind prison walls was a long time to be without a woman, but no way would he ever touch someone who was afraid of him.

  She coughed and lifted her head.

  Their eyes met and held. Dark rings of mascara ran down her red, blotchy face, but her enormous honey-brown eyes mesmerized him. He couldn’t look away. He gave himself a mental shake. He had been in prison too long if he found anything about this bedraggled, scared creature appealing.

  She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

  Encouraged, he squatted and waited.

  “You’re Jace.” Her voice came out ragged.

  Shit. He’d been made. For a millisecond, he thought about jumping up and running. Then he sighed. There wasn’t any point in denying it. “Yeah.”

  “You look different.” Her gaze roamed his face and body with curious abandon. Her eyes lingered on the raw, red marks on his wrists where he’d beat at the iron with a hammer he’d found on the boat.

  “Most likely.” So this was someone who knew him. Yeah, he’d changed. Entering Angola, he’d been eighteen years old, thin and naive. He’d grown two inches, gained weight, and learned more about men in cages than he’d ever wanted to. He studied the girl, but couldn’t place her. She seemed familiar, but he’d been gone five years. “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head.

  He made an impatient noise in his throat. “Can you stand?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Why not, if you’re not hurt?” Fear gnawed at his gut. She had to get out here now. Why was she playing games? He just wanted her out of his hair.

  “I just can’t.” Her cheeks turned bright red. She shifted and a rose-tipped breast was exposed for a half second before she snatched the edges of her ripped shirt over it. His cock stirred and he turned away. No way would he allow himself to be turned on by this girl and lose his focus. All he wanted to do was get rid of her and get out of here before he was discovered. Climbing to his feet, he went to the bunk and took off a blanket. He handed it to her then turned his back. “Here.”

  He heard her scramble to her feet and the soft swish of the material as it covered her. “I’m decent.”

  He faced her. She stood huddled in the blanket like a pole in a tent. Only her head showed. “C’mon, I’ll take you back to your Jeep.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I want to stay here.”

  “You can’t. I haven’t got time for this.” He forced himself to stay calm. After what she’d been through, she wasn’t rational. His mama lost her mind after being violated.

  She narrowed her eyes and lips. “You don’t have anything to say about it.”

  “Pretty big talk coming from a little girl who got herself assaulted tonight. You looking for round two?” Jace chose his cruel words deliberately, hoping he sounded mean enough to make her leave.

  “You wouldn’t do that.” She sounded positive. “And I wasn’t raped, thanks to you.”

  “Relief filled him at her words. True, he’d never lay a hand on any woman but he wanted her out, now. Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?”

  “Because after what happened to your mama, you would never do the same thing to someone. Especially after what you did to the man who hurt her.” Her big eyes looked as trusting as Bambi’s.

  “You don’t know anything about me or my mother.” Rage filled him. How dare she judge him? “So just shut the fuck up.”

  “I know all about you and your family.” She went on as if he hadn’t just spoke to her like she was a bad dog. Hardened men on the inside had backed down from his tone of voice.

  “How? From the newspaper? Because I sure the hell don’t know you.” He racked his brain, trying to place her, but nothing came to mind.

  “I know you.” Her big brown eyes filled with tears. “It’s so sad.”

  “Who’s your daddy? Another Lookie-Lou with an opinion about me? Probably just someone shooting off at the mouth.” Bitterness filled him as he remembered all the people who crowded into the courthouse during his trial, most there for the entertainment of seeing him go down.

  “Don’t you recognize me?” She lifted her head and their gazes locked. “I’m Lindy
Bouché.”

  “No way. You’re lying.” Incredulous, he remembered the little girl who’d followed on his heels like a stray pup. She had been a twig. He’d only caught a glimpse of her spectacular tits, but this girl was all grown up. Damn. Time had sure changed her. “You’re what, sixteen — seventeen now? You were just a kid when I left.”

  “I’m eighteen, not a kid anymore.” She moved to open the blanket. “Need me to prove it?”

  His ripple of disbelief quickly turned to rage. He grabbed her arm through the blanket and jerked her toward him. He wouldn’t hurt her physically, but he could cut her with his mouth. “No, I don’t want to see your itty-bitty titties.”

  A moment of fear filled her eyes, replaced by anger matching his. “You bastard.”

  “You got that right.” He dropped her arm like it was diseased. If she only knew how bad his cock was calling her name, she’d run away faster than a bullet, screaming all the way. “Get out of here. I’m sure you can’t wait to run to your daddy and tell him where I am. Well, you can walk back to town. That’ll give you a good long time to think up an excuse for being out in the woods with some guy who had only a fast lay on his mind.”

  “I won’t tell the Chief anything.” Her eyes flashed fire and her cheeks blazed an angry red. She moved away from him, drawing her blanket tight.

  “Yeah, right.” He chuckled without humor. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. The last time I trusted a Bouché to keep their mouth shut, I found myself doing time for life.”

  “I’m not Trey, and the Chief doesn’t talk to me. He’s not interested in anything I have to say. Even if I marched in there tonight and said ‘guess what, I have Jace Hill outside,’ no one would notice.”

  “I think he might want to hear you’ve found out where I am. What a great way to get Daddy’s attention, huh?” He resisted the urge to shake her. Spoiled rotten brat had ruined everything. Now he had nowhere to hide and form a plan.

  “I won’t say anything. I promise.” The fire in her big eyes was replaced with something he couldn’t place. Pleading?

  He refused to soften. “You’re lying. You’ll start blabbing the minute you get home.” He pointed to the door. “Leave.”

  “I won’t.” She jutted out her chin daring him to touch her. “You can’t make me.”

  “You’ll go if I have to throw you overboard.”

  “You wouldn’t.” Her words were brave, but there was a shadow of doubt in her eyes.

  Had Angola made him into such a prick that he’d rescue a girl only to scare her to death? Shit, why wouldn’t she just go away? “There are clothes in the closet. Put something on,” he ordered.

  He reached for the blanket and she dodged away, the blanket catching on the edge of the door. Unprepared to catch it, the material fell to the floor. Lifting her chin, she stared defiantly at him. God help him, he should’ve looked away, but his eyes refused to obey. She stood nearly nude before him, her hands at her sides. Her bra was twisted around her waist, her panties and skirt hung from her hips. Red welts and scratches covered her pale skin and dried blood covered her right breast.

  Jace’s stomach rolled and bile rose in his throat at the sight.

  He should’ve killed the motherfucker who did this to her.

  When he caught up to the bastard who raped his mother, he gave him a beating the guy deserved, but he hadn’t killed him. Jace’s resolve to find out who had murdered Deke Soloman grew. Although the bastard deserved to die, Jace hadn’t done it. He couldn’t stand to look at Lindy another second.

  “Put something on.” She refused to move until he advanced another inch with a steely glare. “Move.”

  She dove by him and did as he told her.

  While she dressed, he gathered his jumpsuit and the remnants of the chains he’d filed off and crammed them in a cooler and secured it with a bungee cord. With a quick look over his shoulder, he slipped outside and tossed it overboard. He watched as it sank out of sight then went back inside and found matches, flashlight, a change of clothes, and all the food on the boat. All went in a pile. He grabbed the first aid kit and added it too. Gathering all, he stuffed it in a duffle bag. He pounded on the bathroom door. “Let’s go.”

  Obviously reluctant, Lindy came out of the bedroom wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a man’s T-shirt that hung past her hips. On her feet, she wore a pair of flip-flops that looked two sizes too big. “Happy? I look like a clown.”

  With huge clothing and dark rings of mascara rimming her eyes, she still looked good as Mama’s cornbread smothered in honey to him. “You’re not going to a beauty contest.” He motioned toward the door. “Now haul your ass. You’re going home and I’m going to find the killer who ruined my life.”

  She shuffled out the door holding her too-big pants up with both hands. “Not without me.”

  Chapter Five

  Trey couldn’t sleep.

  He tossed and turned, unable to put a finger on exactly what was bugging him. Rolling over, he checked his watch. Two in the morning. The Chief seemed invincible, but Trey knew he worried about Jace’s return. Plus, his wife’s illness had to be wearing him down. Then there was Lindy. The Chief wanted her to stay in the house, but she had done what she pleased and left in a huff again.

  Had she come home yet? Trey hadn’t heard her come in. She had been gone over four hours, and no one including him, even worried about her. Suddenly wide awake, he got up and dressed in the dark. Sick at heart, he went to her room and knocked. She didn’t answer. He eased open the door and looked inside. As he feared, she wasn’t there. She was probably at someone’s graduation party. They hadn’t even eaten a slice of cake for her big day. Maybe he could make it up to her.

  Slipping out of the house, he went to the garage and backed out the gleaming red Mustang. The car had been his pride and joy. He’d found her at an auction, bought her for a song and he, Jody, and Jace had restored her. A vintage ’69, cherry red with a big block engine, she was any guy’s fantasy.

  He flipped on the radio, tuning it to a blues station. Ray Charles came on wailing the last few bars of “Georgia.” Trey sang along when B.B. King took over with “How Blue Can You Get?”

  He left his window down, the warm night air flowing over his left arm. Even at this late hour, the humidity hadn’t faded. The night was lit with a million bright stars and an orange-pink quarter moon hung low in the sky. Evenings like this often reminded him of his sole night with Summer. As hard as he tried to forget, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. He shook off his longing. She’d made it more than clear she didn’t want him in her life.

  She would never face the fact Jace deserved his prison sentence.

  Trey cruised by Tango’s, not expecting to find his sister there. When he had been a kid, the proprietor had been a go-by-the book kind of guy. Not very likely to allow underage drinkers in his place. Especially the Chief’s daughter. Trey briefly considered Mugs-n-Jugs, but quickly discounted the idea. The bar was a known hangout for toughs and lowlifes. Lindy was too young to be admitted there.

  That left Daisy’s. He seriously doubted Lindy would be let in there either, but he decided to check anyway. There wasn’t any sign of her bright yellow Jeep in the parking lot, but Jody’s dark green SUV sat there. Trey pulled along the big car, parked, and went inside.

  He walked to the bar and ordered a beer from a petite girl with curly dark hair wearing a low-cut top that showed off breasts pushed so high they nearly touched her chin. As she handed him a longneck, deliberately letting her fingers brush his, she winked.

  “Thanks.” Ignoring her come-on, he laid a five on the bar, turned and leaned against the counter and did a quick perusal of the room. Several couples swayed to a band playing a country tune. No sign of Lindy.

  He recognized a few other people. A guy he’d gone to school with, a young woman who looked
familiar but he couldn’t place her. No one he wanted to talk to right now. Maybe later when he had more time and less on his mind.

  He turned and spotted Jody across the room. He wore civilian clothes, not his police uniform. Trey took a deep swig of his beer then headed that direction when the song came to an end.

  Jody met him halfway. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “Why aren’t you on the lookout for Jace?” Had the force gone to hell in a handbasket? It looked that way — if the officers were out partying when there was a convicted killer on the loose.

  “The Chief wants to me to lay low and see if I hear anything. I thought I might pick up some interesting gossip in here.” Jody took a sip of his Coke. “How about a beer? Catch up?”

  Trey shook his head. “Thanks, I can’t. I’m looking for Lindy. Have you seen her?”

  “No. Not here. But Daisy’s doesn’t allow underage drinkers.”

  Trey shrugged. “Yeah, I figured this was a long shot. I just thought I’d check it out. She’s not home, and with Jace on the loose, I’m worried.”

  “Try the quarry. That’s where the kids party. You ought to know that, man. You haven’t been gone that long, have you?” Jody tipped his glass and swallowed the last chunk of ice.

  “Yeah, I’ll try out there. Have you seen anything interesting tonight? Heard anything about Hill?”

  Jody glanced around as if he might spot him lurking in the corner. “Jace?”

  “Yeah. Who else?” Trey wondered if his old friend had been drinking.

  “Just thought you might be thinking of his fine lookin’ sister.” Jody grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Will you let it go?” Trey turned to let someone by and bumped into him. “Pardon me.”

  An attractive redhead reached out with a slim hand to brush his shirt where part of her drink had spilled on him. “I’m so sorry.”