by Robin Caroll
“At least they’re making progress. I just know in my heart now that Mouton is involved.” She lowered her eyes. “And was involved with my parents’ murders.”
“They gave me all the information so I could write an article for the paper.” He swallowed. Hard. “I made you a copy of my notes for your piece.”
“I’m not going to write a piece on this.”
“You aren’t?” Didn’t she realize he’d handed her what would probably the biggest story of her career so far? “Why not?”
“I quit my job today.”
“You really did it?”
Alyssa laughed, that throaty sound that did strange things to his insides. “Now you sound like my editor Simon.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“I don’t want to do it anymore. And besides, I don’t want to compete with you.”
He took a moment to study her, really look into her eyes. She had a serenity about her. “Are you going to put your stories on your laptop now?”
She smiled. “I’m going to try.”
“That’s great, chère. You’ll be awesome.”
“At least I have some money saved up to live on. And CoCo told me I could move back home.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out.”
“For a while, anyway.”
“Why, Alyssa LeBlanc, how wonderful to see you,” a woman said in a high-pitched tone. Loudly.
Alyssa winked at Jackson. “Luc’s mother,” she mouthed at him before turning to face Hattie Trahan. “Mrs. Trahan, how lovely to see you. And don’t you look smashing.”
Hattie patted her pristine hair. “Aren’t you precious to say such a thing?” Her gaze lit on Jackson. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. I’m Hattie Trahan.”
Oh, he’d known many of these older debutantes back in New Orleans. He bowed low and kissed her proffered hand. “Jackson Devereaux.”
“My, if I were younger, I do believe I’d swoon.”
A blush hinted on Alyssa’s face. He wanted to laugh, but knew she’d probably belt him one if he did. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Trahan.”
Luc appeared at her side. “Mother, can I steal you away for a minute? The caterers have questions.”
Hattie waved her hand at Jackson and Alyssa. “A woman’s work is never done. I’ll see y’all later.”
Jackson had never felt such gratitude before as when Luc whisked Hattie away. “She’s quite the character I take it?”
Alyssa opened her mouth to reply, then froze. All peace fled her face. She turned whiter than white.
“What is it?” He grabbed for her elbow.
“Him,” she whispered.
“Who?”
“Senator Mouton. He’s here.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Jackson tugged Alyssa close to his side. Out of town? Not hardly. He needed to call Lockwood.
CoCo appeared at his elbow. “The happy couple is making their way here. Come on.” She gently pushed him toward the living room, then headed off toward Luc.
He whispered into Alyssa’s ear. “Let’s just give our congratulations to Luc’s sister and fiancé and then we can go.”
She shook her head, but her face still matched the white of her shirt. “He’s not going to run me off. Who does he think he is, showing up here?”
“What does Luc’s sister look like?” Jackson scanned over people’s heads, hoping to single out the engaged couple.
“She’s got the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen, honey-colored hair and an infectious smile. Oh, and she’s in a wheelchair.”
He glanced about and finally spotted the woman whose smile lit up the entire room. He led Alyssa in that direction.
“Alyssa!” the bright young woman hollered as she spied them. She held out her arms. “It’s so good to see you.”
Alyssa plastered on a smile and hugged her. “You, too. Felicia Trahan, this is Jackson Devereaux.”
He gave a low bow and kissed her hand. “The pleasure is mine.” Her blue eyes were hypnotic.
Felicia giggled. “Now, that’s a Southern gentleman for you.”
“Where’s this husband-to-be of yours?” Alyssa asked.
“I don’t know. He was just here. Probably went to get me another mint julep. I’m parched.” She nodded and smiled as people moved past her. “Did CoCo tell you I’m having my surgery next week?”
“No. What surgery?”
“They’re going to operate on my legs. Doctors say I have a seventy-five percent chance of being able to walk.” She smiled, happiness shining in her eyes. “I’m determined to have Luc escort me down the aisle.”
“Oh, girl, that’s great.”
“Yeah.” Felicia tilted her head. “Oh, there’s my man now. Sweetheart, I want you to meet some people.”
Alyssa and Jackson turned to greet Felicia’s fiancé.
Jackson tipped his head and shook the man’s hand. “Hello, Frank.”
“Jax.”
Alyssa gripped Jackson’s arm. “Am I missing something?”
Felicia frowned. “Do you know each other?”
Jackson shifted his weight from one foot to another. “Yeah.”
“Jax works on the docks, Licia.” Frank moved to stand by her wheelchair. “The sheriff introduced us.”
“But I thought you were a reporter, Mr. Devereaux, yes?” Felicia’s brows knitted. “I still don’t understand.” Felicia stared up at her fiancé.
Frank whispered something to his bride-to-be, then narrowed his eyes at Jackson. “So, anything new?”
Jackson gave a curt nod toward the senator. Frank’s eyes widened.
“I need to run to the ladies’ room,” Alyssa blurted out.
“Oh, down the hall and to the left,” Felicia replied.
“I’ll walk you,” Jackson said. He nodded at the couple. “We’ll see y’all in a few.”
They took their leave.
“You could’ve told me he was helping you,” Alyssa hissed.
“I didn’t want to tell anyone.” He grasped her elbow. “You know how dangerous these people are. I couldn’t let his name out for fear they’d go after him.”
“You could’ve told me.” Hurt wove into her words.
When they turned left at the end of the corridor, Jackson cast a glance behind them. Frank and Felicia had already moved to mingle with a group in the middle of the living room. Jackson took out his BlackBerry and punched in the number for Agent Lockwood. He waited as the call rang and went to voice mail. Hanging up, he dug in his pocket.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for Agent Olson’s number. Lockwood isn’t answering.”
“Why?”
“I want to let them know Mouton is here. His wife told them he was out of town, remember?”
Olson answered on the second ring. After Jackson explained the situation, the ATF officer assured Jackson that he’d leave that minute. Jackson put away his BlackBerry and held Alyssa’s hand. “He’s on his way.”
“What do we do in the meantime?”
“Act like nothing’s wrong. We don’t want Mouton to get suspicious and bolt.”
Her face twisted into a grimace.
“What?”
“It’s still hard to believe he’s probably involved in all of this.”
“Yeah.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Chère, we’ll get the truth out.” Her hair smelled so good. Like wildflowers growing along the country roads of the bayou. He brushed his lips against her temple. His heart surged at the connection.
“I know that, but my emotions are all tied up.” She snuggled against his chest.
“Alyssa, there’s something we need to talk about.”
“Mm-hm.” She hadn’t opened her eyes yet.
“I think I’m falling in lo—”
“Jackson, there’s a man here to see you,” Luc said, clearing his throat.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Jackson released Alyssa. “We’re on our
way,” he told Luc, who nodded and headed down the hall.
“Must be Olson,” Alyssa said, her cheeks still bright.
He took her hand and walked beside her. “I’m going to get this out if it kills me.”
She laughed, the familiar warmth spreading to his toes. “Seems like we’re always getting interrupted.”
Just before they entered the living room, he tugged her to a stop and turned her to face him. “This won’t wait.” His Adam’s apple felt the size of a watermelon. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Alyssa LeBlanc.”
He turned and strode into the living room.
Let her simmer about that for a while.
Falling in love with me?
He just blurted it out and walked away. Oh, who did he think he was? Dropping such a bombshell, then leaving?
Yet her heart laughed. He felt the same way about her as she did him. Not only that, he’d been the one to say it.
She followed the path he’d taken, spied him talking with Agent Olson, and moved to stand beside him. She slipped her hand in his and squeezed. He smiled at her, but continued his whispered discussion with the officer.
Uncertainty etched deep into the ATF agent’s face. He ran a hand over his crew cut. “I don’t want to cause a major scene here.” He glanced over the party. “He’s sticking to Mrs. Trahan like glue. I need one of you to try and get her away from him. I’d like to avoid involving anyone else, and don’t want this to turn ugly.”
“Alyssa, can you distract Mrs. Trahan?”
“I can try.”
Jackson stood straight. “I’ll get Mouton to take a walk with me outside, using my reporter status as enticement.”
Agent Olson nodded. “Okay, then.” He laid a hand on Alyssa’s shoulder. “Ready?”
“I think so. Yeah.”
Jackson kissed her so quickly his lips were gone before she registered them on hers. “Be careful.” He winked.
Her heart thudded, but not from the excitement of the situation. She straightened her shoulders before walking across the room, weaving around people.
She nodded at the couple as she approached. “Evening, Senator. Hey, Mrs. Trahan, can I talk to you for a sec?” She laid her hand on Hattie’s forearm.
“Sure.” Hattie studied Alyssa’s face. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
Alyssa felt, more than saw, Jackson’s scrutiny. She forced her voice not to warble. “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to ask you something.” She racked her mind, searching. “About Luc and CoCo.”
“Are they okay?” Hattie’s gaze darted around the room.
“They’re fine. I just wanted to run something by you right quick.” She smiled sweetly at the man responsible for killing her parents. “Will you excuse us a moment?”
Alyssa didn’t wait for an answer. She turned Hattie toward the den.
Her part was done. She caught sight of Jackson. He strode toward Senator Mouton, who’d taken a couple of steps to follow them.
“Senator, may I have a quick word with you outside? The Times-Picayune is doing an in-depth report on the election.” Jackson delivered his lines just loud enough for others to turn and stare at him and Mouton.
Alyssa held her breath and slowly kept leading Hattie. She saw CoCo and Luc talking to a server and headed in their direction. Hattie would most likely be mortified that such a scandal would occur on her property. Her family came from generations of Southern gentry—no disgrace should be mentioned in connection with the Trahan name. Then again, after Justin’s arrest a few months ago for murder…
“What are you two up to?” CoCo asked.
“I need to talk to you for a second,” Alyssa said.
Hattie jerked her head. “Wait a minute. I thought you said you needed to talk to me about CoCo and Luc?”
“What’s going on?” Luc asked.
Oh, no matter how she did this, the end result wouldn’t be pretty. Alyssa took a deep sigh and locked stares with her sister. She filled them in on the turn of events. “Agent Olson’s here now. Jackson’s taking Mouton outside.”
“What’re y’all talking about? I don’t understand. Would somebody please tell me what’s happening, yes?” Hattie’s hands trembled as she wrung them.
CoCo wrapped an arm around Luc’s mother, speaking in hushed tones. Luc glanced toward the French doors leading to the patio. “Maybe I should check and make sure everything’s okay.”
“I think that’d be a good idea,” Alyssa said.
Crack!
A gunshot rang out. Alyssa’s blood ran cold.
Jackson!
TWENTY-FIVE
People swarmed in all directions. Women cried out. Men shouted.
Alyssa ran toward the French doors. Luc grabbed her arm, jerking her to a stop.
“I have to see if he’s okay.” She struggled to break free of Luc’s hold. The panic almost choked her. “I need to know. I love him.” Sobs ripped from her chest. She shivered.
Luc held her steady. “You won’t be much help to him right now. I’ll let you know immediately. I promise.”
She nodded, shoving the tears from her face.
Luc barged out the French doors. Alyssa couldn’t stop herself from going to the doorway.
Images of the sheriff’s beaten body flashed across her mind. But it was Jackson’s face she saw.
Luc tore across the yard.
Another gunshot split the air.
Without thinking, Alyssa ran onto the patio. Her heart filled her throat.
“Get down,” someone yelled.
She turned in the direction of the voice.
“Alyssa!”
Her body quivered at the sound of Jackson’s voice.
Rough hands grabbed her from behind. One covered her mouth. “Don’t move.”
Senator Mouton had her! What?
The cold muzzle of a handgun pressed against her neck.
She froze. She would die, just like her parents. Murdered. By the same man’s hand.
“Do exactly what I tell you, and you won’t get hurt,” the senator growled in her ear. “You’re more like your mother than I thought. I’d stuck around only to get the opportunity to take you out quietly, and look at the trouble you’ve caused for me. I could be on a beach in another country if it weren’t for you.”
Luc, Jackson and Agent Olson moved toward her, flanking all sides. Jackson’s right shirt sleeve had a large red splotch on the shoulder, seeping downward. Had he been shot? Alyssa’s stomach dropped to her knees. Her legs turned to oatmeal. She went slack against Mouton.
“Stand up now, or I’ll shoot you,” he said. “Y’all stay back or I’ll kill her.” His voice got louder, booming in her ear, a jarring reminder of how quickly a life could end.
The three men halted.
“Let her go, Senator,” Jackson said.
Alyssa blinked back fresh tears. She’d die without getting a chance to tell Jackson she loved him. Every nerve in her body tensed into a tight coil.
The French doors burst open. Felicia nudged her wheelchair over the threshold. “Luc?”
Mouton lifted the gun and pointed it directly at Felicia, who gasped and tried to reverse the wheelchair. Frank darted around Felicia, charging the senator.
Senator Mouton fired.
The gunshot reverberated inside Alyssa’s head.
“No-o-o-o!”
Frank collapsed to the ground. Jackson and Luc rushed forward, only to be halted by the barrel of Mouton’s gun.
“Get out of my way. We’re going to walk to my car, nice and slow. None of you make a move, or she’s toast.”
Oh, God, I know I’m new at this personal relationship with You, but please save me. I don’t want to die. There’s been too much killing already. Please, God, don’t let him shoot me.
Peace as calm as the morning sun touching the bayou filled her. Her legs found muscle. She straightened.
“Come on, move it.” The senator shoved her toward the circular driveway, still pres
sing her body against his, using her as a human shield. “Your mother didn’t know when to let things go, either.”
She took a shaky step. She glanced to where the three men looked poised to spring. Maybe four feet? She took another step.
“That’s right, easy does it.” Mouton pushed her toward his car.
If he got her in the vehicle, he’d kill her for sure.
Alyssa took another step, sucked in air and offered up a final silent prayer. Then she rammed her elbow into his gut with every ounce of strength she could muster.
He dropped the gun and fell backward, grunting.
Luc and Agent Olson moved as one. Luc tackled Mouton while Agent Olson grabbed his gun. Jackson seized Alyssa, pulling her to his chest, and twisted them away from the grappling men. “Shh,” Jackson whispered against her hair.
“Frank?”
He glanced at the paramedics. “I don’t know. But I think it was a heart shot, chère.”
“No.” She pushed a few inches away from him, tears streaming from her eyes. “I was scared you’d been shot.”
He smiled and ran a thumb over her scar. “The senator got Olson’s gun away from him and fired off a shot.” He glanced at his shoulder. “Just grazed me. Nothing more than a scratch.”
“You don’t get it. I thought he’d killed you before I…” She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.
“It’s okay. We’re fine.” He enveloped her in a hug.
“I thought I wouldn’t get a chance to tell you that I love you.”
Agent Olson had hauled Senator Mouton away while a paramedic treated Jackson’s shoulder. The local sheriff deputies waited for the coroner to come—the shot to Frank’s chest had been fatal. The doctor had given Felicia and Hattie sedatives. Both now slept in their beds. Jackson didn’t envy Luc’s position. He’d had a hard time consoling his sister. It had taken him and CoCo an hour to get her calmed down before the doctor arrived.
And Hattie? Well, Jackson actually felt sorry for her. She’d been humiliated with the townsfolk over the scenario, but she’d held Felicia while she cried. Maybe they’d work their issues out together.
Agent Lockwood finished taking their statements and put his notebook away. He shoved to his feet. “Once Roger heard we’d busted the senator, he sang like a bird. Implicated Senator Mouton as the designer of the whole plan. Apparently he’s been coordinating this arms smuggling for almost two decades—the entire time he’s been in office. He was more scared his low-life partners would kill him than he was of our prosecution.”
