“Andrei!” she cried, her smile brilliant.
Andrei hesitated. “Florica, do you know where your father went off to?”
Florica’s smile died suddenly, and Elizabeth realized the young woman was staring down at her and Andrei’s tightly entwined hands.
A look of confusion crossed her features, then she giggled and said, “Bad things happen in Les Baux. If you’re not careful, Andrei, something bad could happen to you.”
“Bad how?” Andrei asked, but Florica had taken a sudden great interest in her hair. She was winding a strand around and around her fingers.
“Don’t you like my new hairstyle, Andrei?”
“Florica, who would do this bad thing?” he asked. “Your papa?”
She began chanting, “Papa’s mad…Papa’s bad… Papa’s mad…Papa’s bad…”
Andrei shook his head. “Come on, Lizzie, we’re not going to get anything more out of her.”
As he led her off, Elizabeth glanced back over her shoulder. Florica was turning in a circle, seemingly listening to inner voices. Her heart went out to the woman. What had happened, she wondered, to the poor girl’s mind?
Though the moon was full, it scudded behind a bank of clouds as they cut through the small trailer park and came out in a rough, overgrown area.
“Do you really think we’ll find Milo?” she asked.
“Why not? He doesn’t know we’re on his trail.”
Trail? What trail? The man had disappeared into the night. But Andrei kept going as though he could see in the dark. Indeed, his movements were sleek and catlike, while she was merely clumsy. She tripped once and would have fallen onto her knees if he hadn’t caught her.
The moon peeked out from the clouds, and she got a good look at their surroundings.
“I know this place,” she murmured, suddenly chilled even though the night was summer hot and humid. “This is where my mother’s body was found.”
The ancient live oak was straight ahead. And through the dripping moss, she saw movement near the thick trunk.
“Milo,” Andrei growled softly, pulling her from the clearing and into the trees.
Swiftly, they moved forward and Elizabeth heard a low, deep drone—Milo muttering to himself. Perhaps Florica was not the only one in the family who’d lost her mind.
Milo’s back was to them. They crept closer as the carnival owner reached into a hollow in the trunk of the live oak.
“What is that?” she whispered as Milo withdrew a packet wrapped in cloth.
Andrei put a finger to his lips and indicated she should stay put while he moved forward.
She watched Milo as he unfolded the cloth from around some hard object. Caught for a moment, she didn’t move. The cloth fell to the ground and the object in his hand glinted under the moonlight.
Her eyes widened as he held up a knife and began keening as loudly as the mourners had earlier.
“Mama!” she whispered, certain that what he held was the weapon that had been missing all these years—the knife that had been used to kill her mother!
CHAPTER SIX
ANDREI DREW CLOSE ENOUGH TO Milo to see the moon gleam off the knife’s sharp edge and the fancy carving on the handle. “So, that’s the murder weapon?”
“What?” Milo’s head jerked up, and he looked around wildly. “Andrei!”
Shock altered his voice and twisted his features into someone Andrei didn’t recognize.
“Yes, Milo,” he said. “I’m still alive and uninjured, no thanks to you. But Theresa Granville wasn’t so lucky. Is that the knife you used to kill her?”
“I had nothing to do with the gadji’s death!”
Andrei could see the lie written all over the older man. As a boy, he’d looked up to Milo, who’d seemed to be an honest and fair leader and a devoted father. He’d had such respect for Milo that he’d once told his mother that he wanted to be like him when he grew up.
He shuddered at the memory.
The last thing in the world he wanted was to be like the lying, quivering murderer before him.
Andrei continued to inch forward, while saying, “The murder weapon has been missing all these years. No wonder—you stashed it in the tree right where you killed Theresa Granville.”
Milo appeared frantic when he said, “Andrei, you don’t understand.”
“What don’t I understand, Milo? That you’re capable of a crime of passion? Were you jealous of Carlo?” he asked, continuing to advance slowly, carefully. “Did you think you could have Theresa Granville for yourself?”
“No. It wasn’t like that. I felt nothing for the gadji but—”
“Bastard!” Lizzie yelled, launching herself past Andrei and straight at Milo.
“Lizzie, no!”
Andrei tried to stop her. He was fast, but Milo was faster. Before Andrei’s horrified eyes, the man yanked Lizzie against his body, levered an arm across her chest and held the knife blade to her throat.
“Stay back, Andrei, or I’ll cut her. I swear I will!”
Andrei heard the words threatening the woman he loved, and through a haze of red, saw the knife at her throat.
Holding on tightly to his rage, he said, “You don’t want to do this, Milo.”
“I don’t, Andrei, but you’re forcing me to do it—you and your cousins and the gadje you’ve brought to our camp. All your poking and prodding has destroyed us. The carnival will never be the same!”
“The carnival isn’t the same now, Milo. It hasn’t been for ten years. It’s tainted with the blood of Theresa Granville and now Valonia and God knows who else.”
“Tony,” Milo admitted, his eyes crazed. “He would have told…I couldn’t let him…I can’t let you…or her!”
The hand holding the knife was shaking with tension. As Andrei concentrated on the weapon, he sensed Milo’s control slipping.
“Stop now!” Andrei told him. “Too many people know too much. You can’t get away with this.”
Milo licked his lips and shook his head. “I can,” he said as if trying to convince himself. “I’ll say it was Tony, that he’s the murderer, that he was jealous of Carlo back then…and of you now. That he killed Valonia and put the letter in her hand. No one will be able to prove different. The alligators have got him by now.” Milo adjusted the knife, tip to Lizzie’s flesh, and Andrei felt his rage escalate as Milo said, “Like mother, like daughter.”
“Nooooo!”
Andrei flung out his hand and the knife flew from Milo’s with such force that it sunk hilt deep into the live oak and would take great strength to be pulled free.
Milo shoved Lizzie into him, and as Andrei caught her, she cried, “Don’t let him get away!”
But the wily carnival owner had a head start, and Andrei knew that the man could quickly lose himself in the swamp. He wasn’t about to let that happen. Concentrating on the limb of a cypress ahead on the path, Andrei brought it down right in front of Milo so that he got tangled in the branches. That stopped Milo long enough for Andrei to catch up to him. He tackled the man to the ground, where they rolled, one over the other.
The older man was amazingly strong and gave as good as he got. He traded punch for punch, though Andrei was so pumped he didn’t feel the blows. Not until his back was turned to Milo and something came down on his head so hard he saw stars.
Dazed, he managed to stop himself from falling on his face.
Just enough time for Milo to get away.
______
Elizabeth was at Andrei’s side within seconds of his being hit with the very tree limb he’d brought down with his mind to stop the man. Milo had wielded the tree limb as if it weighed nothing, but she had a hard time moving it to free a stunned Andrei from the tangle of branches.
“Oh, Andrei, tell me you’re all right,” she begged as she gathered him in her arms. “Open your eyes and speak to me, please.”
“Lizzie…” His lashes fluttered and lifted. “Milo?”
“He blindsided you and ran like
the coward he is.”
“We have to go after him.”
He struggled against her, but she tried to keep him still, saying, “Not so fast. You’re hurt. You might have a concussion.”
But Andrei pushed himself up, anyway. “I can’t let him get away.” He shook his head as if to clear it, then winced.
Elizabeth winced, too. “Let the authorities see to him, Andrei,” she pleaded.
But he wasn’t listening to reason. “Which way? What if he hurts someone else before the authorities catch him?”
That decided it for her. Feeling sick inside, she pointed. “He went down that path.”
“I can take it from here.” Andrei was already moving off. “You go back where it’s safe. And call Leon Thibault—”
“No! I’m not leaving you and don’t bother arguing.” She shadowed him. “Let’s just keeping going before Milo disappears into the swamp.”
“I’ll find the bastard first.”
They moved so swiftly Elizabeth was soon breathing hard. She didn’t know how Andrei was doing it after being clocked with the tree limb. But he seemed steady enough. And as sure of himself as always. And determined.
Most of all determined.
He’d been like that as a teenager, she remembered, one of the reasons she’d been drawn to him. He’d known what he wanted and had set out to get it and the world be damned. One of the things he’d wanted had been her. Too bad he didn’t still want her, she thought, remembering that he hadn’t tried going further than kissing her.
Arriving at a landing, they stopped and looked out over the water. Elizabeth saw the silhouette of a small pirogue shooting up the bayou and of the man sitting in the shallow-hulled craft paddling furiously.
“Milo?” Elizabeth asked.
“That must be him.” Andrei was on the move again. “We need to get out there before he disappears down one of the side channels.”
“What? You mean swim out there?”
“I mean use one of those.” He indicated two larger pirogues pulled up on the shore near the pier. He glanced back at her and said, “Don’t worry, we’re only going to borrow it.” Then he slid it half into the water.
Elizabeth looked around, half-afraid that someone would see and accuse them of being thieves. Andrei jerked her into the flat-bottomed boat, which began to rock wildly as he pushed away from shore.
“Sit,” he said as the pirogue swayed. “And stay still.”
He climbed into the craft behind her, and a moment later they were off down the bayou, gliding deep into the swamp, cutting through the moonbeams that danced along the water, moving faster than she thought possible with only one person paddling.
Was Andrei doing it? she wondered.
Having seen the power of his mind for herself twice that night, she glanced back and checked his action with the double-bladed paddle. Fast, but not fast enough, she swore, to account for their speed.
For a while she thought they would catch up to Milo. The distance between the two boats dwindled by half. Then Milo turned down a channel so thick with cypress growth that their way grew jagged and filled with dark shadows.
“Can you see anything?” Andrei asked.
“A little. Up ahead I thought I saw movement to the right.”
Where the channel split, Andrei followed the right branch. He relied on her for direction several times more, but eventually, the waterway narrowed and the growth multiplied until neither of them could see more than a yard or two beyond the prow. The slough was already drying up. Soon it would be overgrown, impossible to navigate until the winter’s rain replenished it.
Andrei stopped paddling. His “We lost him” triggered Elizabeth’s release valve.
Stress poured out of her in waves, until she could breathe normally again. She hadn’t even realized how tight with dread she’d grown until this moment. Andrei might be the younger and stronger man, but Milo had years of illicit experience—dark paths he had followed to cover his crimes. He’d been desperate, ready to murder them both.
Carefully, Elizabeth turned around in the pirogue to face Andrei. Surprised when it didn’t rock wildly, she realized the growth was so thick that it cradled them.
“Let the authorities pick him up, Andrei. Don’t take any more chances, please. I don’t want him to kill you.”
Moonlight filtered through a break in the overgrowth and slashed across his features, which appeared puzzled to her.
“You sound as if you care what happens to me.”
Elizabeth blinked and frowned at him. “Of course I care. I’ve always cared.”
“Couldn’t prove it by me,” he said, sliding forward and nudging her so that she inched over, leaving him just enough room to squeeze in next to her. “One night you give the Gypsy boy a thrill ride. The next day he doesn’t exist for you.”
Thrill ride…
Yes, sharing the wonder of her own body for the first time had been more of a thrill than Elizabeth had expected. Remembering how she’d worried about her inexperience, she was thrilled to realize now that he’d found such pleasure in their union he still remembered it. But as for the rest…
“You didn’t exist for me?” she said incredulously. “Is that what you thought?” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Of course it was. How could you think otherwise?”
“Was it otherwise, Lizzie?” Andrei asked softly. He turned on his side and reclined next to her on the floor of the boat, trailed a finger up her arm until gooseflesh followed. “Tell me.”
Her pulse was racing and her mouth went dry as she said, “My mother was murdered that same night, remember.”
“I remember wanting to comfort you as soon as I heard. I came to see you, and you didn’t want to be anywhere near me. So what was that?”
“Guilt. It was guilt, Andrei.” Elizabeth turned and leaned on her elbow so that she could look at him directly when she explained, “I left my debutante ball and found you. If I hadn’t, Mama might be alive today.”
“Guilt. I sensed that,” he admitted, “both then and now. I don’t understand. Why? How does that follow?”
“She’d warned me about getting involved with you, told me nothing good could come of our seeing each other. Now I think she was really judging herself and thinking of her own decision to break it off with Carlo. At my ball, she and Daddy had a fight. It all started over his saying he would have to leave early, to drive to Baton Rouge where he had an early breakfast meeting. I didn’t want to listen to any more but I caught the gist of the rest. Now I’m sure it was over Carlo, but at the time I didn’t want to know. All I could think of was you, how you made me feel good about myself. How you made me smile, no matter what. I was upset and so I left in search of you. I’m sure Mama figured it out. No matter what had been going on between her and Carlo, I think on that particular night, Mama went to the carnival looking for me.”
“All these years…you blamed yourself for her death?”
Elizabeth nodded. “I know differently now of course.”
“Do you?”
He reached out to touch her face and she shivered. He’d always had this effect on her, ever since she could remember. Even when she’d fought him, she’d wanted him.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you when I wouldn’t see you,” she whispered. “I loved you. But I loved Mama, too, and I was guilty and confused.”
“You loved me?” He sounded disbelieving.
How could he have not known? she wondered.
“You were different from any other boy of my acquaintance,” she told him. “You were…magical. Only I didn’t know how magical until tonight, until you saved yourself on the Tilt-a-Whirl and then again with Milo. How?”
“Gypsy magic.” He dipped his head and murmured in her hair, “I don’t know how. Some of us are born with gifts.”
A concept that was difficult to accept, she thought, even as she echoed, “Gifts? Plural?”
His low laugh made the hair on her arms stand at attention. “Indeed.”
“What, then?”
“Can’t you guess?” he murmured, the timbre of his voice making her quake inside. “I know what women want. I can read you without even touching you, Lizzie, though touching you is better.”
He gently swept the back of his fingers along the side of her face.
Elizabeth caught her breath, then let it out into a virtual explosion of air. “What do I want?”
“This.” He trailed the fingers lower, down her neck. “And this.” Then drew them forward along her collarbone and into the crevice between her breasts. “And this.”
He kissed her long and deep, and when she thought she would gladly give up breathing if only he would keep kissing her forever, he stopped. A river of emotion shot through Elizabeth and she suddenly felt weepy.
“You’re not going to cry, are you?” he asked, exactly as if he could read her emotions.
“No, of course not,” she murmured, fighting the sting against the back of her eyelids.
“Then why are you suddenly filled with such strong feelings?”
“Daddy,” she said, grabbing the first excuse she could find. “I was just thinking how relieved I am that he’s not the one who killed Mama.” Which of course was true.
“You had doubts?”
“Only ones created by other people. You. Miss Ina.”
“I apologize for that.”
“It isn’t your fault.”
“It is. I made you doubt your own father, partly because I couldn’t see another motive…partly because I was still angry with you.”
“Because I pulled away from you when you tried comforting me,” she said, understanding now what she hadn’t been able to understand then. “But that was ten years ago. And you never tried to see me again. You never came back.”
“How can you be sure?”
“The following summer I waited and waited for the carnival to come. And when it did, I went looking for you only to be told that you wouldn’t be back. That you were going to college and would become gadje, like your mother’s people. I understand the school part, but it was summer. Why didn’t you come back to the carnival for the summer?”
“Because of you,” Andrei said. “I couldn’t do it. I loved you, Lizzie, I’d loved you since you were a little girl. You were the reason I kept coming back. And then you were the reason I stayed away.”
Andrei (Gypsy Magic Book 3) Page 5
