“You don’t say! You did all that? That sounds really exciting,” she replied. “I’m glad your day went better than mine.” She opened a cabinet and took out a can of cat food and a dish. Jazz kept up a steady stream of cat chatter while she prepared his food. As soon as the plate touched the floor, he stopped telling tall tales and started eating. She checked his dry food dispenser and then poured him fresh water from the pitcher she kept in the refrigerator.
She left him to eat, selected a bottle of wine from the rack, opened it, and, without waiting for it to breathe, poured a glass. Going into the living room, she sank down on the pale gray couch, kicked off her shoes, and propped her feet on the glass-top coffee table.
Once Mama got out of the hospital and Jazz went home, she’d get a cat of her own. He was such good company, and even cuddled with her at night.
The artist she just signed, William Landry—young, attractive, and charming—asked her out to dinner, but she never mixed business with pleasure. Things could get messy if the pleasure part of it didn’t work out, so it was better for her to spend her time working. If she wanted to go out, she could call friends.
At least she was independent, strong, a good businesswoman and… afraid of being hurt again.
She used to believe that once she saw Gage again, she could put past hurts to rest. And now wariness and a kind of relief warred inside her. She’d nurtured the bitter disappointment about him leaving her for too long to give it up easily. And he hadn’t apologized for the harsh way he ended things between them before he left.
She should have guessed her mother and brother had a hand in Gage’s defection. It had all happened too quickly. One day he was excited about the move to Baton Rouge. And the next he was…gone.
Jazz jumped up in her lap, and she cuddled him close. “Why didn’t Mama tell me, Jazz? I’ve grieved over him for six years.” Jazz seemed to sense her need for comfort and tolerated her holding him. And when she released him, he even settled on the cushion next to her.
She sipped her wine and got up to call her grandmother and check on her.
By the time she hung up, she felt a better.
When her outside doorbell buzzed, she got up.
“The only time you call is when you need me,” Jules complained with a grin. He handed her a bottle of wine and buffed her cheek with a kiss as he stepped in.
“You’re my go-to guy, Jules. How are Natalie and the baby?”
“They’re good. Jesse will be two in a month, and he’s a wild man. When you look up terrible twos in the encyclopedia, there’s a picture of him under the heading. His favorite word is ‘no.’”
Mia laughed. “Poor Natalie.”
“Poor Natalie? I live with him too.”
“Not all day like she does.”
“Truth.”
The buzzer went off again. She strode to the door and looked through the peephole. “It’s our food.” She opened the door for the young black man who usually brought her lazy-evening dinners. “Hey, Randolph.”
“Hey, Ms. Blanchard.” He handed her the bags. Jules moved to help her and carried the bags to the kitchen island. She held up a finger for Randolph. “Just one minute while I get my purse.”
She went into the kitchen and returned with the cash to pay him.
While Randolph was still standing on the metal platform, Gage arrived. She tried to ignore the way her pulse leapt the moment she saw him. His dark hair, beard scruff, wide shoulders and bad-boy air just tripped her hot and tingly switch. Or was it his intensity? And that was what had changed. He was more laid-back and easygoing when he was younger. There was nothing laid-back about him now. Every move had a purpose.
Jazz ran out the door. With lightning-swift reflexes, Gage scooped the cat up off the platform and cradled him against his chest.
“Come on in, Gage.” She handed Randolph the money and a tip. “Thanks, Randolph.”
“Welcome, Ms. Blanchard.” The delivery man bounded down the metal staircase.
Gage ran a large hand down the cat’s sleek body. “What’s his name?”
“Jazz.”
“I appreciate you taking him in while Mama’s in the hospital.” He bent and set the cat on his feet. Jazz did a figure eight around his legs then leapt onto the coffee table and began cleaning himself.
“He’s a lot of company.”
She moved into the kitchen where Jules was already unloading the food at the island. She introduced the two men, and they shook hands, but the two eyed each other like a couple of pit bulls sizing each other up before the fight.
She ignored their male posturing while she set plates, napkins, and silverware out, then asked, “Wine, beer or sweet tea?”
“Beer,” the two men replied together.
She rummaged in the refrigerator and set bottles of Dixie on the island. When Gage went to the coffee table and returned with her wine glass, she added a little more and stoppered the bottle.
The three of them settled on barstools around the island, eating po-boys with shrimp, lettuce, tomato, and pickles on fresh French bread, hot sauce on the side. Coleslaw and fries were the perfect accompaniments. The men waited for her to fill her plate, then fell on the food.
Gage wiped his mouth with a napkin after the first bite. “Thanks for this, Mia. I haven’t had a po-boy in two years. There are a few restaurants in San Diego where you can order one, but only a couple that are equal to the ones here at home. I don’t get to them very often.”
“You’re welcome.”
“How are things going at Mama’s?” she asked before taking a bite of coleslaw.
“I’ve changed the locks, and installed a doorbell camera on the front porch, and a portable one on the back door, and they’re both connected to Mama’s computer and the cloud. Anyone who comes in either door will be recorded.” He didn’t mention the small cameras he’d positioned in the hallway and bedrooms to record who entered a room and when. “I also plan to put sensors on the windows and doors that will set off an alarm. I want her to feel safe when she comes home.”
Jules’s brows rose. “I didn’t realize Navy SEAls were experts at alarm systems.”
Gage chewed for a moment. “I’m not an expert, but I can read directions.”
Mia was impressed by his quiet reply to Jules’s jab. Gage never had an issue with confidence, but the easy control was a change.
“Are you active-duty NOPD?” Gage asked.
“Yeah. A detective.”
Gage eyed Jules with a stony distrust. “How do you and Mia know each other?”
“We dated for a short time our senior year in college. Then I left Louisiana for a time and was a patrol officer in Las Vegas.”
Gage’s brows shot up. “Bet that was a culture shock.”
Jules laughed. “In some ways, yeah, it was. But then there’s always a party here, too.”
Mia leaned forward to cover Jules’s hand with her own. “Jules has run interference for me a time or two with Camille. You can trust him, Gage.”
Gage’s frown didn’t lighten. “Has Mia told you about the situation?”
“No. But I know you’re the guy who ran out on her.”
“Yeah, I’m the guy.”
Once again Gage was quiet, controlled, but there was an edge and a subtle shift in his body language that triggered Mia’s tension.
Jules studied him through narrowed eyes. Mia wondered if she made the right decision about bringing them together.
*
Gage fought back the anger and frustration. He didn’t need another cop giving him shit. Not here. Not now. Not after the cops he talked to today about Mama’s attack had admitted there were no leads and all the fingerprints they’d been able to identify were family.
He remained silent and attempted to do the food justice, but he’d lost his appetite. He shoved aside his plate and nursed his beer instead.
His attention drifted to Mia because he couldn’t resist looking at her. Her pale green eyes, heart-shaped face
and high cheekbones made her a classic beauty. Where she used to wear her hair down or in a tail, she braided it into submission now, underscoring the cloak of reserve and wariness she wrapped around herself. It caused him more than a little pain when he remembered the close connection they used to have.
Had his leaving caused her to burrow inside herself? She’d mentioned her mother’s manipulation twice, though, so Camille probably played a part in it as well.
“I suppose you’ll want to run a background check on me.”
“Why would I need to do a check on you?” Jules asked.
“So you can see that I’ve never had so much as a speeding ticket…anywhere. I’m not my brother.”
“I know you’re not a criminal or a fuckup. You wouldn’t be able to keep your standing in the SEALs if you were. But you still ran out on Mia.”
There was that jab again. “Not voluntarily.” He’d carried the guilt and pain for that long enough. It changed him…changed Mia too…but now it was time for them both to lay it all down and put things right.
Jules’s narrowed eyes drilled him.
“You can be as pissed at me as you want. You’ll be even more later.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not going to like what I have to say about some of your brothers in blue.”
Jules’s features sharpened, his eyes flinty. “So now you’re blaming cops?”
“Only the ones Mason Blanchard has in his pocket. There were five of them. Brody and Mitchell. Those were the name tags on their uniforms. They were patrol officers, and they seemed to be partners. And an older guy, early fifties, bulldog features, gray, buzz cut, dressed in a suit, possibly a detective.”
Jules’s jaw tightened with that one.
“The younger one, Isaacs, had dark hair, a scar that cut through his left eyebrow, and wore a suit, too. I couldn’t figure out what the last guy’s purpose was. Wire-rimmed glasses, pencil-thin nose, no lips, medium brown hair, cut short, medium brown suit, medium height and build. He was so bland-looking no one would remember him.”
“But you do.”
“Yeah. You tend to remember when someone’s threatening you with a thirty-year prison sentence for the drugs they planted in your locker.
“And then there was Mason, standing there with a superior, smug look on his face, enjoying it while the two detectives went after me. Then the nondescript guy told me how much time I’d do if I didn’t leave town. How much time my eighteen-year-old brother would do for the marijuana they caught him with.
“I never bought drugs, never took drugs, never sold them. But they were going to put me in jail for all of that on Mason Blanchard’s orders because I loved his sister and was going to Baton Rouge to build a life with her.
“So, I broke it off with Mia and left.” He drew a deep breath and tried to ease the buzz of rage that shot through his system, tightening his muscles. He tried to breathe through it, but it pounded against his temples.
Jules’s silence stretched. “I’ll need some time to look into things. How long are you going to be here?”
“The next four weeks. I took emergency family leave. You’re welcome to come to Mama’s house and search it any time. I’ve searched it myself to make sure there aren’t any drugs hidden anywhere.”
“Who were you working for when they planted the drugs in your locker?”
His wording of the question released some of Gage’s tension. He believed him. “Got a pen and paper?”
Jules withdrew a small notebook and pen from the interior pocket of his suit coat hanging on the back of his bar stool. He tore out a page and handed it to him with the pen.
“Michael Elliot was my boss. This is his number. He can show you the locker room at the refinery. There may still be people who worked with me there. And before I left, I told him everything that had happened.” He jotted the address and number down from memory, put his own cell phone number at the bottom, and handed him the paper.
Jules slid off the bar stool and shrugged into his jacket. “Thanks for dinner, Mia.”
“You’re welcome.”
Jules gave Gage a level look and extended a business card toward him.
Gage took it and felt compelled to warn him. “Watch your six. You start poking around, you might stir up a hornet’s nest. I put my number on that sheet. You need backup, give me a call.”
Jules nodded.
Mia walked him to the door. “Tell Natalie I’ll call her tomorrow so we can work out what day is convenient for our lunch.”
“She’ll be thrilled.” Jules turned back. “About the snake. There were no fingerprints on the box. No way of identifying where the snake came from. They mailed it here in the city, but the postage was paid in cash, so there’s no way of knowing who sent it.”
“I appreciate you looking into it. Be careful, Jules.” Mia hugged him.
“Will do, cher.”
As soon as the door closed behind him, Mia turned to Gage. “He recognized the men you described. He knows who they are.”
“Yeah, I got that.” Now he had one more person to worry about. He might have just put someone close to Mia in danger. “Now why don’t you explain to me about the snake?”
CHAPTER 8
‡
After Gage left anxiety lay like a stone in the pit of Mia’s stomach. It wound her up and made it impossible for her to sleep.
Mama could still be in danger. Someone hadn’t liked it when Mia found her in time to save her. And now Gage knew about the water moccasin warning, he was even more concerned for her. She’d seen it in his expression and body language. And he also notified the hospital of a possible threat to Mama.
Mama was in intensive care, and the chances of anyone getting past the unit’s security were very slim. But they still needed to be aware of the risk.
It hadn’t occurred to Mia that she might be in danger herself, even though the snake was sent to her. She sensed no danger, but then she rarely had visions about herself.
It had been her experience that things like this seemed to happen in threes, and she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And that next shoe could be something happening to Jules.
Why hadn’t she thought things through before calling him? He had a wife and a child who depended on him. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that it might be dangerous for him to take on Mason and his henchmen? Or the dirty cops who’d been willing to send an innocent man to jail…
Or had it all been to bluff Gage into leaving? Had they really been serious?
Obviously Gage believed they meant business. Otherwise he would never have left, and he wouldn’t have a reason to continue looking over his shoulder now.
And she saw the police arrest him at Mama’s house in her vision. It was coming. Was that the fourth related event?
Why did she get just enough information to make her worry and not quite enough to help her prepare for what could happen?
Her cell phone rang, and she reached for it. Ming’s number came on the screen. “Hello, Ming.”
“I have discovered something about Will Abney I thought you might be interested in. Abney had a business partner at one point. His name was Anthony Webster. His daughter Angelique was seventeen when she committed suicide. She was his only child.”
“God.” The word was ripped from Mia, a prayer and an expression of shocked denial all in one. Quick tears stung her eyes. “She looked to be about fifteen when I saw her. He was raping her, and when he was done, he threatened her parents. Told her if she wanted her life and her parents to continue as it was, she’d get used to it.”
She fought back the nausea to ask, “When did her father end their business partnership?”
“He didn’t. He was killed in a mugging a month after his daughter’s death.”
Shock stole her voice for a moment. “That seems like too many coincidences, don’t you think?”
“Yes, it does.”
“Does my mother know about this?”
“No
t at the moment. Do you wish me to tell her?”
“Would it make any difference to her?”
Ming remained silent for a moment. “I believe she would continue to do business with him, but she might discontinue her association with him outside of that.”
Why wasn’t she surprised? What had caused her mother to lose her moral compass? Or did she ever have one?
“She’s female, and I believe he might be a threat to any woman with whom he’s alone. She needs to be warned.”
“I’ll pass the information on to her.”
“I wish….” She’d already put a good friend in harm’s way to try and right a wrong. She wasn’t sure what Ming was to her, but she wouldn’t put him at risk too. “Please be careful. There have been things happening here…”
“Sometimes a whisper in the right ear proves helpful.”
She wondered whose ear that might be. She didn’t travel in the same circles as her mother and brother, and she had no idea about Ming’s circle. “It would be worth a try.” She brushed back a long strand of hair from her cheek. “Be careful, Ming.”
He remained silent for a beat. “I will. Should I find anything more, I’ll notify you.”
“Thank you. Good night.”
“Good night.”
She refused to think about what more could happen. She’d had enough for one night.
But she found herself unable to sleep and tossed and turned all night. Gage told her it was like ripping an arm off when he was forced to leave, but then, after saying it, after kissing her like he was trying to make up for lost time, he continued to keep his distance.
She couldn’t blame him. Mason still posed a threat to his freedom and the career he was building in the Navy.
She didn’t know why he’d chosen a career in the Navy. She knew nothing about his life or the people in it now. For all she knew, he might have a girlfriend back in San Diego. He’d built a life eighteen hundred miles away, and that much physical distance would be more than either of them could overcome.
Hot SEAL, Midnight Magic (SEALs In Paradise) Page 6
