by Rebecca Deel
“New Orleans.”
She mentally reviewed the roads they’d taken from New Orleans to Oak Hill and sighed. Many miles of roads to cover. “Did she say for sure that’s where she was headed?”
James blinked. “No. I just assumed.”
Yeah, another sure sign these two didn’t talk much. His marriage may have been in more trouble than he realized. “Is anything of hers missing?”
“Like what?”
Really? Was James Wilder of Wilder Enterprises that clueless? “A suitcase, clothes, shoes, jewelry, makeup.”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?”
“She has scads of everything. I don’t keep track of what she wears. After 15 years of marriage, I know to tell her she looks beautiful in anything she’s wearing. The rest I truly don’t have know. She has drawers full of makeup, more shoes than a department store, and enough jewelry to open her own shop.”
“What kind of car does she drive?”
“Maroon Navigator.”
“Make a list of the places she frequently shopped. Do we have permission to question your domestic help?” From the picture Lily was putting together of Christine Wilder, she couldn’t see the woman cleaning a house this size or preparing meals or catering parties.
James drew out a yellow legal pad from a drawer and dropped it on the desk. “Go ahead. Just do me a favor and don’t make me out to be a horrible villain. I’d rather not have to clean my house and cook my own meals along with yanking my company out of looming bankruptcy.”
“We’ll be back in a few minutes for the list,” Remy said as he rose.
Lily and Remy spent several minutes in fruitless questioning of the staff. No one knew anything. No one saw anything. It was like Christine was a ghost. Or maybe just oblivious to the staff who kept her home sparkling and her table loaded with food. They returned to the office to find James embroiled in a heated negotiation with a supplier from the sounds of it. He shoved the notepad at them.
Lily tore the list from the pad and scanned the contents. Her eyebrows rose. She handed the paper to Remy. Twenty-five stores would take at least a day, maybe two unless they split up the list. She had a feeling they didn’t have that much time.
Remy closed the door behind himself and Lily, glad to step out into the muggy Louisiana afternoon. “Got our work cut out for us, don’t we?”
“James wasn’t too forthcoming with the information we needed. Prickly, too.”
“That’s probably on my account.”
“I take it they married right after high school?”
His heart squeezed at the painful memory flooding his mind. “The day after graduation. Let’s get out of here. I want to check out one place before we head to my home.”
They were near the Yukon when a large black dog raced across the lawn, aimed like a heat-seeking missile in their direction, fierce bark emanating from the barrel chest. Doberman Pinscher. Definitely Christine’s dog. Remy much preferred a good hound dog or a beagle. His ex-girlfriend had been crazy about the sleek lines of the Doberman, the intelligence, the loyalty. If she remained true to form, this dog had been trained in Germany. Just in case, though, he stepped in front of Lily, deliberately making himself a target for the dog’s attention.
“What are you doing?” Lily’s outraged voice blasted him from behind.
“Keeping you from being a snack for Fido.”
“I can take care of myself, Doucet.”
“Before or after the dog eats you?” In a rough, guttural voice, Remy snapped out a German command. Immediately, the dog skidded to a stop and sat. Satisfaction bloomed in his gut. Nice to know his instincts were on target and Christine was still a woman of habit.
“Wow,” Lily murmured. “Why aren’t you afraid?”
“You think this one intimidates me?” He snorted. “I had a pet alligator down in the bayou. He ate dogs like that for an appetizer.” Remy glared at the dog. “Buzz off, Fido. Go chase a cat.” In German, he issued another command and the dog raced away.
“Is his name really Fido?” Lily stepped to his side, watched the dog run.
“Probably not. Christine always gave her Dobermans sissy names like Muffin or Princess.” Disgust laced his voice. For such handsome dogs, they were given wussy names. Growing up, his dogs might have been common hunting dogs, but at least he and his brothers had given them good, solid names, not ones they would have hung their heads in shame over.
“Did you really have a pet alligator when you were a kid?”
“You bet. Old Lucifer’s still crawling around the bayou out back of our home. Mean tempered thing. Can’t tell you how many times I had to outrun the cantankerous boy to get home. Want to meet him?”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not.”
“Spoilsport. I was looking forward to the confrontation.” Remy set off for the SUV.
A punch on his arm. “You wanted to see me square off with a walking suitcase with big teeth?”
“Sure. My money’s on you.”
“Right.”
Behind the wheel again, Remy drove from the estate grounds, took more back roads further into the countryside. Though the temperature was high and the humidity thick enough to slice with a knife, he couldn’t resist lowering the window a little. Nostalgia swept through him at the familiar smells and sounds of the bayou. Nothing quite like it.
“What is that?” Lily’s nose wrinkled.
He stiffened. “Something wrong?”
“It smells so…green.”
Remy burst into laughter. “Yeah, I guess it does.” City girl, indeed.
“Where are we going?”
“A place Christine and I used to spend time together when we were dating.” A lifetime ago.
“Local make-out spot?” Lily teased.
A smile quirked his lips. “Something like that.”
“Can’t wait to see this.” She smacked the side of her neck. “Should have brought insect repellent,” she muttered. “Lucifer won’t have anything left to snack on once the mosquitoes are finished with me.”
Another laugh. Who knew G.I. Jane could make him laugh so much? Especially in the midst of such circumstances. His smile faded as worry for Christine surged to the forefront again.
“We’ll find her.”
“Sure. But will it be in time?”
“Why did James wait so long to call in Fortress?”
Remy blinked. “Excellent question.” And one he should have been thinking clearly enough to ask. Time to get his head in the game. “What’s your take on their marriage?” Obviously, his view was biased and not in a good way.
“Trouble in paradise.”
“Enough to warrant not calling in help?”
“Local cops competent?”
“Not in their wildest dreams.”
“Ah. Wonder if Mrs. Wilder made a habit of disappearing for a few days without checking in with her husband. It would explain the delay in calling us.”
He thought about that for a beat, conceded she might be right. “Christine loves retail therapy.”
“Who doesn’t?”
A snort. “Christine doesn’t shop like you do. She prefers in person browsing with salespeople waiting on her hand and foot.”
Lily’s head whipped in his direction. “Why?”
Had to admit, he’d always wondered the same thing. Like Lily, Remy preferred ordering online when he could get by with it. If not, he wanted an anonymous shopping experience. “Beats me. Never did see the draw.” His lips curled. “One of the many things she complained about when we were dating.”
He took the next right onto a dirt road and guided the SUV toward the bayou. Deeper and deeper they drove until finally they reached the turnoff he was looking for. Two minutes later he eased to a stop beside a maroon Escalade.
“Fancy ride for the boonies,” Lily commented. “What are the odds that belongs to Mrs. Wilder?”
“Pretty decent. The most popular mode of
transportation out here besides a pirogue is a pickup.”
Lily paused in the act of opening the passenger door. “Pirogue?”
“Flat-bottomed boat popular in the swamp. Want to ride on one?”
“Pass.”
“Don’t know what you’re missing.” Remy climbed from the Yukon and approached the driver’s side of the Escalade. He leaned close to the window, careful not to touch the glass and leave traces of himself behind. Pristine gray interior, leather seats, top of the line stereo system. Nothing that said the vehicle belonged to Christine, though his gut said it did.
Lily approached the passenger side, peered inside. “Remy.”
“Got something?”
“Maybe. Take a look.”
He rounded the SUV, gazed inside. A woman’s pink bag lay on the floor, stuffed under the seat. He frowned. Same pink stuff Christine used to carry when they were together. “Can you see monogrammed initials?”
She shifted position a little. “CEW.”
Christine Elizabeth Wilder. “Let’s call Zane, have him run the plates before we call in the local cops.” And wouldn’t that be a fun experience. He’d be lucky if Chief Mouton refrained from tossing him in jail just because he could. Remy’s jaw flexed. Couldn’t let Mouton do that. He had a feeling time was running out to find Christine.
He pulled his cell from his pocket and punched in the speed dial for Fortress, then Zane’s number. When his friend answered, Remy said, “Z, need you to run a plate for me.” He rattled off the information and waited while his tech geek friend keyed in information.
“How’s your family?” Zane asked.
“Haven’t seen them yet.”
“Too bad. Wanted to know what they thought of G.I. Jane.”
“You and me both, buddy. Should be fun.” Especially for Lily who wasn’t used to the wild, sprawling Doucet family.
More keystrokes. “Vehicle belongs to Christine Wilder.”
Crap. Thought that might be the case. “Thanks.” Remy ended the call and punched in a number he’d hoped never to have to call again.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lily leaned against Remy’s monster-sized SUV and watched him search the area in a grid pattern, careful to leave no trace of himself behind but still scour for anything Christine or the kidnapper might have left to mark their passage. Birds called, something else called. Whatever the something was made her stiffen. It sounded…big. Her eyes scanned the surrounding area. No critters that she could see. But she felt eyes watching her from the trees and bushes. She was very glad for the weight of her weapon at her ankle. She just hoped it was powerful enough to put down whatever came at her.
At the edge of the dirt-packed area, Remy crouched, examining grass and brush.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Come take a look at this. What do you see?”
Lily studied the blades of grass, the brush, the scuffed soil. “Trampled grass, broken limbs. Soft dirt in the underbrush disturbed.” She glanced at her partner. “He or they took her here. Where were they headed?”
He nodded toward the right. “Bayou is that way.”
“Let’s check it out.”
Remy stood, tilted his head before turning toward the road. “Can’t. Cops are almost here.”
Huh? Lily swiveled, searched the road. Empty. Not wanting to point out that he needed his ears checked, she scanned the area for creeping critters, the kind that ate small women. Swatted another herd of mosquitoes. By the time they finished with her, she wouldn’t have any blood left in her body. She couldn’t wait to leave the green and return to the asphalt and concrete jungle she knew so well.
A minute later, she heard the sound of gravel clanging against wheel wells. A plume of dust rose as a police cruiser rounded the bend in the road and slowed to a stop. The driver’s door opened and out climbed a balding, portly man. He hitched his gun belt, rested his hand on his weapon as he approached her and Remy. Made Lily twitchy and long to palm her own weapon.
Closer in, the cop’s eyes narrowed. “Well, look what rat came crawling back to the swamp. Long time, Doucet. Thought I’d seen the last of you in my parish. What are you doing here?”
“Visiting my family, Sheriff Mouton.”
“Get lost?” He sneered. “The Doucet hovel’s ten miles east of here.”
Remy stiffened.
Oh, boy. Definite history between these two. Made her wonder what kind of trouble her partner had gotten into as a teenager. Unless she wanted to post bail for her “boyfriend,” Lily needed to divert Remy’s attention. Not knowing what else to do, she slid her hand into his and squeezed, hard.
Her partner dropped the staring contest with the lawman to glance at her.
“Can we go now, baby?” she said with a hint of whine in her voice. “I’m tired and hungry.”
Remy’s eyes sparked with amusement. “In a minute, lamb chop. After I have a chat with the sheriff.”
Lamb chop? Lily’s cheeks burned. Jerk. She turned her blue gaze on the man in question. “Talk fast, okay?” Inside she fumed at having to play Remy’s airhead girlfriend.
“What are you doing out here, Doucet?”
“Taking my girlfriend to see the sights.”
Mouton snorted. “The swamp? You live in the heart of it, boy.”
Remy grinned. “Caught me. Too many people at home, if you get my drift. Brought my girl to one of my favorite spots so we could be alone.”
The sheriff turned his attention to Lily. “Do yourself a favor, little girl. Dump Doucet and find yourself a real man. This one’s nothing but trouble.”
That was the absolute truth, Lily realized. Remy was a boatload of trouble, especially to her heart. The man disturbed her on a lot of levels. Every time she worked an op with him, he muddied her focus and that irritated her. She’d never had problems ignoring attractive men before. What was so different about Remy?
“You’ve done your good deed for the day, boy.” Mouton nodded toward the Escalade. “Get on out of here now so the professionals can go to work.”
“You going to run the plates?” Remy asked.
“You’re doing my job now? What do you know about law enforcement, Doucet? You’re nothing but an overgrown punk.”
Remy’s jaw clenched. “I was a homicide detective in New York City, Mouton.”
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed again. “This ain’t New York. We do things my way in my parish. Do yourself a favor, Doucet. Get out of here before I decide to run you in for obstruction of justice and just plain being an aggravation.”
So much testosterone clouded the air, Lily expected both men to start beating on their chests soon. They didn’t have time to waste with Remy in the pokey. The kidnappers already had a week’s head start on them.
Remy saluted Mouton. “Let’s go, lamb chop. I’ll find another good spot for us.” He opened the passenger door for Lily, gave her a warning look, leaned over, and kissed her.
Shock held her still. Though the kiss lasted no more than a few seconds, heat blasted through her body like a sunburst. This was bad. Really bad. If that little peck on the mouth did that to her, would she ever survive a real kiss from Remy Doucet?
He lifted her up into the SUV. “Mouton’s watching, elf,” he murmured and closed the door.
Lily drew in a ragged breath. Pretending to be involved with this man was a serious mistake. She yanked on her seatbelt as he slid behind the wheel. “What was that?”
“Camouflage.”
“And you had to kiss me to do that?”
“Nope. I wanted to, been wanting to for a while. This seemed like a good opportunity as it fit our cover.”
He’d wanted to kiss her? Wrecked her emotional balance which was already reeling from the email she’d received earlier. “Keep your lips to yourself, Doucet.”
“No can do, sweetness.” Remy cranked the engine and pulled away from Mouton’s view. “Maddox set the roles for us to play. We don’t have a choice but to follow through. Christine�
�s life may depend on it.”
Nothing like piling on the guilt. “Okay. Role playing when we’re out in the world.”
A glance. “All the time. We’re on stage until this op is finished and we’re back on the ground in Nashville.”
“Even with your family?”
“Especially with them. I won’t put the burden of having to lie on their shoulders. If they believe we’re involved, so will everyone else who asks them about us.”
“And people will ask?” The idea of such nosy friends and neighbors was alien to her. Then again, she’d never been in one place long enough to make friends aside from her Army unit. She was just starting to form bonds with her Fortress co-workers. The only people she’d really connected with were Micah and Sophie Winter and their adorable baby, Nathan. Micah was the Fortress logistical coordinator and his wife owned her own herbal supplements shop.
“I guarantee they’re already burning up the phone wires and airwaves.”
“Incredible.”
“Annoying. Never got away with anything as a kid. Mom and Dad knew before I came home what I’d been into.”
She had no idea what that was like. Her social worker cared less about her than her foster parents. There were some excellent social workers in the system. Lily hadn’t been assigned to any of them. “Where are we going now?”
“To my home. I want to go back to where we found the SUV after Mouton’s gone.”
“You think we’ll find something the local cops won’t?”
“What do you think?”
Lily evaluated what she’d observed and heard from Remy. “The good sheriff won’t bother to do more than call a tow truck.”
“Exactly. Once Mouton clears out, I want to check the area surrounding the clearing. Whoever took Christine wanted the authorities to check near the bayou.”
“Maybe. Or they didn’t care if they left a trail a mile wide.” Because they’d already killed her and dumped the body in a place no one would find it.
