“I can’t let you do that.” He sank onto the sofa.
“You need an alibi, somebody who saw you, spent time with you on the night of the murders.” She sat next to him, bringing with her the scent of roots, herbs and the black earth of the swamp floor. Although the familiar smell comforted him, it couldn’t compete with the memory of Shelby’s perfume. “I could tell the sheriff you were here all night with me.”
“I won’t let you lie for me. Besides, nobody would believe you.” He smiled humorlessly. “You’re the Gypsy Queen.”
“Bah, if I was as powerful a gypsy as they all think, I would make a special charm to protect my people who meet the swamp serpent.” Her dark eyes narrowed, and Billy knew she was thinking of the family members she’d lost.
First her sister, then her husband. Each had fallen victim to the swamp serpent, their bodies found where they had fallen in their own blood.
With each subsequent swamp serpent murder, Billy had felt Angelique’s rage growing until it was a festering wound eating her from the inside out. It was a fury of loss, the anger of a lifetime of prejudice and a town’s seeming nonchalance over the lives lost. Billy knew her anger, had its kin inside him. It had exploded only once, and the results had been devastating.
He stood. “It’s late.” He started toward the door that led to one of the bedrooms.
“Let him sleep,” Angelique said softly. “There’s no sense in waking him up and dragging him out in the middle of the night. Besides, he and Rafe can play in the morning, then you can come by for him tomorrow after his lessons.”
Billy hesitated, then nodded. Rafe, Angelique’s son, was Parker’s best friend, and Billy knew Parker was in good hands with Angelique. Still, he went into the bedroom and stood over the sleeping child. This child, Parker Royce, was the only good that had come out of his marriage. Initially he’d hoped the child would make Fayrene settle down, be a real wife and mother, but it wasn’t to be. Fayrene had the maternal emotions of a stump in the woods.
He leaned down, studying the cast of dark lashes on childish cheeks, the little mouth puckered in sleep. He breathed in deeply, like an animal identifying its young, knowing he would recognize the scent of his child in any crowd.
There was no hint of Fayrene in the child’s features. It was as if Parker had been fashioned from Billy’s rib, a miniature clone without the emotional baggage and soul scars of his father. And Billy was determined that the child would not be scarred by the same forces that had tormented him. Everything Billy had done, he’d done for the welfare of this child. He was ruthless when it came to Parker.
After pulling the sheet up closer around the little boy’s neck, he turned and left the room. Angelique still sat on the sofa but she stood as he walked toward the door. “You’ll be all right?”
He hesitated a moment, then shook his head and grinned. “No swamp serpent would have me, Angelique. I’ll be fine.” He bent over and kissed her on the cheek. She held him for a moment, one hand pressing tightly on his back, the other raking through his hair. He pulled away, touched her cheek softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Angelique watched him as he left the porch, disappearing into the dense, dark swamp. He moved like the wind, swiftly, silently, not a twig snapping, just a soft rustle of underbrush.
She crossed her arms over her breasts, hugging her shoulders tight. She ached. A deep, abiding ache that had been with her from the moment Remy’s body had been found. Losing her sister had been horrible, but four years later when Remy had been killed, Angelique had fought the invasion of madness.
She knew the panacea for that throbbing emptiness was Billy, knew she could find the sweet peace of mindlessness in his embrace. She’d been patient through his ill-fated marriage to Fayrene, knowing it wouldn’t last, knowing sooner or later he’d be free once again.
What she hadn’t counted on was Shelby Longsford. She’d felt his distance as he’d spoken of the woman lawyer. Shelby Longsford. Although Angelique didn’t personally know Shelby, she knew the family. The Longsford power in the area was wide and far-reaching.
Angelique smiled. But she had some power of her own. She’d never before used a charm to bind Billy to her, had wanted his heart to be hers uncoerced. Perhaps it was time for a change.
Holding her hand up toward the silvery crescent moon, she saw the single dark hair between two fingertips. She would not lose Billy. She would do whatever it took to get him. Whatever it took.
Chapter Five
Silence greeted Shelby the next morning as she descended the stairs to the dining room. There were no signs of breakfast, although a silver coffeepot remained on the serving buffet. She helped herself, then sat down at the large table.
She was surprised by how deeply, how long she had slept. There had been no nightmares, no dreams, just the wonderful oblivion of sleep. She felt refreshed, ready to face whatever the day might bring.
“Good morning, Ms. Shelby.”
“Suellen.” Shelby smiled brightly at the broad woman who’d entered the room.
“Welcome home.” Suellen’s fat face was wreathed in a smile that plumped her cheeks and caused her dancing brown eyes to nearly disappear in folds of flesh. “How about some breakfast? I can get cook to fix you something.”
“No, thanks, coffee is fine.” Shelby looked at her wristwatch. “Besides, I have to leave in a few minutes for an appointment in town. Where is everyone else this morning?”
“Your daddy and John Junior left for Washington, D.C., and won’t be home till the weekend.” The old woman frowned, her lips pursed slightly in disapproval. “And your mama and Ms. Olivia are still in bed. They don’t never see the day before noon. Besides, Ms. Olivia’s husband came home late last night.”
Shelby nodded and took a sip of her coffee. She’d almost forgotten Olivia was now a married woman, having tied the knot six months before. “What’s Roger like?” she asked, having only vague memories of the man who had at one time been mayor of Black Bayou and now was her brother-in-law.
Suellen frowned. “Handsome, smooth as snake oil. A politician through and through.”
Shelby smiled. “You don’t like him much, do you?”
Suellen’s face reddened. “It’s not my place to like or dislike. I just don’t trust a man who dyes his hair and has had a face-lift,” she exclaimed.
Shelby had been shocked when she’d heard Olivia had married Roger Eaton. Roger was twice Olivia’s age, and a political ally and peer to Big John.
“Shelby?” Suellen looked at her in speculation. “Heard you were defending Billy.”
“You heard right.” Shelby smiled as she brought her coffee cup to her lips. “I figured the town could use that little item for gossip.”
Suellen snorted. “This town finds everything a matter of gossip.” Her eyes darkened and she touched the gold cross that hung on the wall of her enormous breasts. “They’ll have more than enough to chew on this morning. There was another swamp serpent murder last night.”
Shelby sucked in her breath and set her cup back down on the table. “Where’s the morning paper?”
“Your daddy took it with him, but you won’t find nothing worthwhile there. It was buried on page seventeen, just a little paragraph.”
Outrage swept through Shelby. “And what was the headline of the paper?”
“Something about the police still seeking evidence in the death of Tyler LaJune. Tyler’s daddy is an important man. He’s not about to let his son’s death be forgotten.” Suellen shook her head sadly. “Tyler’s murder is a sad thing. But so is the killing of all those people in the swamp. There’s something evil in Black Bayou…something horribly evil.”
Long after Suellen left the dining room, Shelby remained seated at the dining room table. Something evil in the swamp. The old woman’s words had evoked haunting images. Moonlight flowing through the trees, dancing on figures with the surreal illumination of a dream. Evil.
She rubbed her forehead, as if in doing so sh
e could bring the vision into sharper focus, but instead it dissipated altogether. She drank the last of her coffee.
Poor Bob. He would have his hands full. Looking at her wristwatch a final time, she realized it was time she left for her appointment with Billy.
Billy. Minutes later as she drove toward town, she couldn’t help but think of the boy he had been and wonder about the man he had become.
She’d been six and he’d been nine when she’d first met him. Angry with her parents, who rarely remembered she existed, stinging from a brawl with Olivia, Shelby had decided to run away. The swamp beckoned and she vaguely remembered thinking at the time that it would serve her parents right if she got eaten by an alligator, or drowned in the dark water. She didn’t know how far she’d run before she sat down on a fallen log, lost in fantasies of her own funeral. In her childish reverie her mother leaned weakly against her distraught father, and Olivia threw herself on the coffin, crying her name over and over again. It was a pleasant vision, one that had comforted Shelby. It wasn’t until the daydream faded that she realized day had passed into night. She was alone in the dark swamp and hopelessly lost.
She didn’t know how long she cried before Billy finally found her. Even then, he’d had the unique ability of moving silently across the forest floor. He hadn’t spoken to her, he’d merely held out his hand and taken her to Mama Royce’s cabin.
Shelby rolled down the window of her car, allowing the hot air to fill the interior and caress away the tears that had sprung to her eyes at thoughts of Mama Royce. Billy’s grandmother had been the one good, loving constant in Shelby’s life, and even after all this time she still felt the hole of Mama Royce’s absence in her soul.
She’d fallen in love with Billy Royce on that first night, when his hand had closed around hers with warmth and he’d led her out of the darkness and into the light and love of Mama’s shanty.
Childhood, she scoffed inwardly. She was no longer that innocent girl who’d fled the coldness of her home, the dictatorial demands of her father and the inadequacies of her mother, seeking the warmth of the tiny shanty, Mama’s arms and Billy’s silent presence.
No, she was no longer that little girl, she thought as she parked in front of Martha’s Café. She realized now that there was no way to make her father love her, no way to make her mother strong. She couldn’t fix her family and she couldn’t change the world. The only thing she could do was use all her legal prowess to keep Billy Royce out of prison. She prayed in doing that she wasn’t making a mistake.
Gathering her briefcase and purse, she steeled herself for seeing Billy again. Even the deep sleep she’d enjoyed the night before hadn’t erased the sensual feel of his fingers lingering on her ankle as he’d slipped on her sandal, the scent of him that had wrapped around her like strong, warm arms.
Did all women remember their first sexual experience so clearly? Every nuance, each caress of that moment was burned into her memory. She’d lost herself in him, could still remember her need to bury herself in his very skin. No experience she’d had since had managed to diffuse any of the power or emotion surrounding that night.
Billy had awakened her sexually, then abandoned her to find complete and lasting fulfillment elsewhere. And she had yet to find that whole fulfillment, the kind that sated not only her body but her heart, as well.
She got out of the car and headed for the café, needing to concentrate on the crime, not the man. Somehow they had to come up with a strategy for defense in the event of Billy’s arrest. And, if Billy was arrested, she was going to have to hire some help. She couldn’t do all the investigation that would be required alone.
As she walked in, Martha nodded toward the back room, letting Shelby know that Billy had already arrived. She felt his energy as she stood in the doorway of the back room. It filled the air, simmering like a pot about to boil as he paced back and forth in the small confines. When he saw her, he stopped all movement. However, even in utter stillness he gave the impression of perpetual motion.
“Have you heard?”
“Heard what?” She stiffened instinctively as he approached her, then relaxed as he closed the door and motioned her to a chair at the small scarred table where they’d sat the day before.
He pulled up a chair across from her, his face a study in intensity, his eyes burning with flames of anger. “Another one was killed last night.” He slammed his fist down, the force shaking the table and forcing a gasp from Shelby. “Damn it, somebody is killing our people and nobody in this godforsaken town seems to care.”
“I care,” Shelby said softly. Without thought she reached out to cover his hand with her own.
He jerked away from her touch, his gaze cold, scornful. “Your family and their kind are half the problem.”
Shelby’s anger was swift to rise. “And yet it’s me and my kind who you ran to when you thought you might be in trouble.” Her gaze was equally cold.
A smile lifted one corner of his lips. “I’m angry, Shelby. But nobody ever accused me of being stupid.”
“So, you’ll throw in your lot with the devil to save your own skin?”
His grin widened and he leaned toward her. “I’ve seen the devil, Shelby, and he doesn’t have your considerable charm.”
She felt a blush sweep over her, heating her cheeks as his gaze lingered on the swell of her breasts. “Stop it, Billy.” Her voice was low, but steady.
“Stop what?”
“Don’t treat me like I’m one of your women. I’m not. I’m your lawyer and you’re my client. I’ve already had the experience of sex with you, and your practiced seduction has no effect on me.”
He reached out and touched the throbbing pulse at the base of her throat. “No effect?” A dark eyebrow quirked.
The sinful warmth of his fingertips awakened a shiver at the base of her spine. Before it could work itself free to shimmy up her back, she batted his hand away in irritation. “With your arrest for a double homicide pending, can you really afford to spend your time indulging in this kind of nonsense?”
He leaned back in his chair, the lazy amusement gone, usurped by emotions darker, more dangerous. “This kind of ‘nonsense’ is supposedly what got me in this position in the first place.”
Shelby frowned, unsure she understood what he meant. “What?”
“Sex.” Once again he leaned across the table toward her, so close she could see the unrelenting darkness of his eyes. “Passion. The kind that drives people wild, makes them ignore the laws of man, turns rational people into irrational animals.” She could smell him, a rich male scent that stirred her senses. “Have you ever felt that kind of mindnumbing passion, Shelby?”
She shook her head. “No.” Her voice was faint, her throat dry.
“Neither have I.” He sat back and raked a hand through his hair in irritation. “That’s why all this is a bunch of garbage. They think I killed Fayrene and Tyler in a fit of jealousy, because Tyler and Fayrene were lovers.” He smiled, the sardonic twist of his lips adding to his dangerous attractiveness. “Hell, if I killed every one of the men Fayrene supposedly had affairs with, I’d cut the population of Black Bayou in half.”
“She was promiscuous?”
“So I’m told. Although Fayrene wasn’t above a little twisting of the truth.”
Shelby rubbed her forehead thoughtfully. This information, rather than helping Billy’s defense, only added to the strength of the possibility of charges against him. “They’ll just say you finally snapped, that you couldn’t stand it that your wife’s latest lover was your very best friend.”
Billy scowled and snorted in derision. “Tyler and Fayrene weren’t lovers.”
Shelby looked at him sharply. “How can you know that?”
“Believe me, I know. The sheriff’s whole scenario doesn’t play out, because I know for a fact that Fayrene and Tyler were just friends, never lovers.” For a brief moment a stark pain swept over his face, the pain of grief. It was there only a moment, then gone, an
d he drew in a deep breath.
Shelby pulled a legal pad from her briefcase and began making notes. “Did Fayrene have any girlfriends, any confidantes? Somebody she might have told about her relationship with Tyler?” She smiled sardonically. “I have a feeling nobody is just going to take your word on their relationship. I need somebody else to back it up.”
Billy frowned thoughtfully. “For the most part Fayrene didn’t care for other women. Although I know she spent a lot of time at The Edge.”
“The Edge?”
“A bar on the south side of town. It’s a rough place, Shelby. If you decide to go there, I’ll go with you.”
“That isn’t necessary,” she replied. “I can take one of my brothers with me.”
Billy smirked, his gaze indulgent. “You take a Longsford into The Edge and you’ll have to carry him out on a stretcher.”
“Have you forgotten that I’m a Longsford?” she asked stiffly.
Once again his gaze burned with renewed intensity. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t remember who you are and where you come from,” he said softly. “I mean it, Shelby. If you go to The Edge, I come with you.”
She wanted to protest, wanted to tell him that she didn’t intend to spend a minute of time with him that wasn’t necessary. But she’d known what to expect when she agreed to represent him. Besides, she had no intention of repeating past mistakes with Billy Royce. “Then let’s go tonight.”
“Fine. Things don’t start hopping there until late, so I’ll pick you up at ten o’clock.”
“I think it would be better if I met you someplace,” she said, remembering her promise to her father.
He nodded, eyes narrowed and lips thinned in studied arrogance. “We’ll meet here at ten.”
Passion In The First Degree Page 5
