A Christmas Kiss

by Caroline Burnes

  "And then he put the candy down?"

  "He took it out of the pocket of his coat. And he put it down___" Kayla imitated the very precise placement of the candy while at the same time snaring the last piece. "Just like that. He almost touched you but didn't. Is he your boyfriend?"

  Cori felt her smile falter. "I don't know."

  "But he left the candy for you. A Christmas kiss." She grinned impishly as she popped the third and last chocolate into her mouth.

  The thought came to Cori so fast, so totally formed and filled with ugly possibility that she acted without thinking. She had eaten none of the chocolates left for her. What if they'd been poisoned? "Spit out the candy, Kayla." She grabbed the child's shoulder and shook her. "Spit it out!"

  "What?" The little girl cried. "Mama!"

  "Spit it out." Cori grabbed her jaw and forced it open, using her fingers to find the chocolates, one almost melted, and drag them out and onto the ground.

  "Mama!" Kayla's eyes were wild and she broke free of Cori's grip. "Mama!"

  Out of the crowd, a short, dark-haired woman came running. She scooped the child against her and then began to survey the crowd, her expression a fierce mask of fear and fury. She crooned to the child as she looked for the offender, determined to do terrible damage.

  Kayla pointed to Cori, who remained on the bench.

  "What have you done to my daughter?" The woman came at Cori like a mad dog. "What did you do?" She turned back to the marketplace. "Call the police! Call 911. This woman has hurt my child!"

  Several men came out of the crowd and shifted closer, just in case Cori tried to make a break for freedom.

  "I can explain." She spoke aloud but no one heard. Kayla was screaming against her mother's leg, terrified by Cori's abrupt behavior. The mother was guarding her and yelling instructions into the crowd.

  Cori sat on the bench, her thoughts centered on a tall, sandy-haired man who had crept up on her in her sleep and put three chocolate kisses by her thigh. The child had seen him. He wasn't a figment of her imagination.

  "You are going to jail," the woman spat at Cori.

  "Your child found some candy on the bench beside me. She ate it, and it suddenly occurred to me it might be poisoned. I made her spit it out." Cori spoke softly, staring directly into the woman's eyes. At last her words penetrated and some of the fury left the mother's face.

  She turned to the child and spoke in rapid French, which Cori had never learned to follow. The child looked at Cori, her eyes still filled with tears but no longer screaming, and nodded her head.

  The mother knelt down and examined the little girl's mouth. Traces of chocolate were clearly evident.

  "I shouldn't have let her have the candy," Cori said. "I wasn't thinking. But she saw it here, and I didn't care. But then I realized I had no idea where it had come from. That maybe someone had, you know, put something in it."

  Cori's words raised another fear in the mother's face, but she was calmer now. She spoke to the child again. This time the little girl shook her head. The mother turned back to Cori. "She said the candy fell from your purse."

  Cori felt as if she'd been slapped. "It didn't come from my purse. She told me a man left it on the bench."

  The mother consulted with Kayla once again in the heated rush of French. She held the little girl's face so that she could not look away. At last she turned back to Cori. "She said it came from your purse, that it fell out on the bench."

  "A man left it. Kayla saw him. She described him perfectly. She said he looked like her Uncle Adam."

  The woman gave Cori a strange look and spoke to the child in French once again. Placing her hand on her daughter's shoulder, she slowly shifted her away from Cori. "Kayla made up the story of the man."

  "Why?" Cori felt her boost of confidence fade and her fears grow as she watched the woman's face fall into an expression of pity. "Because you looked so sad and alone. She wanted you to have a boyfriend. She said the candy fell from your purse." The woman backed away from Cori. "Kayla doesn't have an Uncle Adam."

  Cori sagged against the bench.

  "The candy she ate, where did it come from?" The mother was still worried that the candy might be contaminated.

  Cori looked up. "I don't know."

  Something in her vague and troubled state made the woman pull her daughter against her body.

  "We'll wash out your mouth, Kayla." She got a Kleenex out of her purse and picked up the candy from the pavement.

  In the distance was the angry wail of police cars approaching at a fast clip.

  Chapter Four

  Joey was drawn to the sound of sirens and the whirling blue lights of the black-and-white units that had congregated at the north end of the French Market. His gut told him that something bad had happened and that, somehow, Cori St. John was involved. He got out of his car and ran, dodging cardboard boxes filled with crafts and treasures. He saw four officers standing in a circle around a woman with dark hair and a big red sweater. Off to the side was a woman and a crying child and a gathering of sightseers that grew larger by the minute.

  He stepped forward, flipped his federal commission to the cops and put a proprietary hand on Cori's arm. "Come with me," he said, smoothly pulling her through the tangle of black leather police jackets.

  "Hold on." One of the cops grabbed Cori's other shoulder. "We've had a little problem here."

  "You're going to have a bigger problem if you don't back off." Joey stepped between Cori and the policeman. "This woman is protected." He leaned forward. "Don't make me spell it out for you," he warned in a harsh whisper.

  "This woman has been accused of accosting a child." The policeman, who was not as tall as Joey but several pounds heavier, was not budging. "We've made a report, and we have to file it."

  Joey looked at the child, who was standing beside her mother. The mother looked less than certain.

  "Ma'am, are you filing charges?" Joey asked.

  "I don't know," she said. "Kayla said the woman didn't really hurt her. She gave her some candy and then forced her to spit it out." She looked behind her as if she wanted to disappear.

  Cori finally spoke, her voice soft and her words directed to Joey. He seemed the only one there interested in hearing what she had to say. "The candy was left on the bench. I didn't care if Kayla had it, but then I realized I didn't know where it came from. I guess I overreacted. I did make her spit it out."

  Her voice dropped to a whisper as she confronted a hard possibility. "I was afraid it might be poisoned. I haven't eaten any of the other candy."

  "What candy?" The policeman wore a badge that identified him as Officer Lewis.

  "Someone left candy on the bench while I was asleep. Some kisses." Even as she said it, Cori realized it sounded suspicious. Or at least deliberately dumb.

  "This woman was attempting to protect the child." Joey eased Cori a little farther away. "I don't see where there's a problem."

  "Ma'am, are you pressing charges?" Lewis asked the mother.

  "No, no." She ran her hand through her child's hair. "But I am going to have a talk with my daughter.

  She knows better than to accept candy from strangers. It could have been poisoned."

  "That's true." Lewis nodded at her. "Okay, then." He turned back to Cori, his pale eyes boring into her. "Aren't you..." He stopped and looked at Joey, obviously putting two and two together. "Well, I'll be. I thought you'd been moved out of the South."

  "This really isn't the time." Joey nodded toward his car.

  "Oh, yeah, the retrial." Lewis nodded sagely. "You know, Mr. Tio, it would be better if you kept your clients out of the middle of public disputes." His grin was shark-like. "I wouldn't exactly call this protection."

  "I, uh, I'm not in the..."

  Joey tugged her so hard she lost her train of thought as she tried to keep from losing her balance.

  "Let's go now," Joey said.

  Irritated at his strong-arm tactics, Cori shook free. "Since you k
now me, did you know my husband, Kit Wells?" She looked at Lewis and then the other officers, one by one. Three shook their heads, but Lewis nodded.

  "Yeah, Kit and I used to play cards. Before he met you." His grin was quick. "He sure cleaned up his act after he started going out with you. When he told me he was getting married, I didn't believe it. Kit was never the kind to settle down. He was a guy who liked the action, the party."

  Cori felt the knot in her stomach cinch tighter. She'd never heard this side of Kit. All of the officers she'd met acted as if he was a quiet man. One who had yearned for marriage and a home.

  Joey saw her pale. "I think we need to go." He didn't like the public spectacle Cori had managed to create, and he didn't like standing around in the open jawboning with a guy who was having a good time revealing hurtful information.

  Cori ignored Joey and spoke to Officer Lewis. "Do you believe Kit's dead?"

  "I never figured old Kit to go out without a bang." He shrugged. "Then again, Kit had made some serious enemies. The talk on the street was that you wouldn't have testified if he hadn't insisted. He'd turned in his papers to resign, said he was going into the WP program with you. Everyone knew about how he supported you." He paused a beat. "Some folks like to keep the score sheet settled."

  Cori felt his words like tiny flames of guilt. "Yes, everyone knew that." Her indecision had been headline news for two days. One of the television tabloid news shows had even done a story about the woman with the photographic memory who didn't want to testify. A retired judge who served as legal commentator for the show had pointed out that the justice system was falling apart because citizens like her wouldn't do their civic duty.

  All along, though, Kit had urged her to listen to her heart. To do only what she felt comfortable doing. With him by her side, she'd found the courage to testify—and lost everything.

  "So you think Kit is dead." Her voice was hollow, defeated.

  "I didn't say that. We turned the city over looking for him. We never found a clue. Usually, a hit on a policeman can't be kept quiet. Not for two years."

  "You're a very helpful man." Joey was mad enough to strangle Officer Lewis with his bare hands.

  "It isn't like she hasn't heard this before." Lewis grew defensive at Joey's tone. "She knows."

  "Yes, I do know." Cori turned away.

  "Later," Joey said as he took her elbow and led her to his car. The word was a promise to Lewis.

  "Where are you staying?" Joey asked her as he steered her. She was as lifeless as a rag doll.

  "I don't know." She tried to think about places she had once wanted to stay. Not a single one came to mind. "I thought I'd get a place when I got here."

  "This is the holiday season. Hotels are going to be booked." Joey felt himself sliding deeper and deeper into the mud hole that Cori St. John was digging for herself.

  "I'll find some place." She shrugged. What did it matter? She wouldn't sleep, anyway. "Maybe over toward Slidell."

  "I know a place uptown." Joey couldn't stop himself. She was so defeated. "It's a safe place."

  "Won't your relatives get tired of you dragging me into their homes?" She gave him a brief smile.

  "It's not a relative." Joey found himself smiling in return. She had a sense of humor. And she was quick-witted. He liked that. "It's a bed and breakfast. An old high school friend of mine runs it. She doesn't advertise at Christmas because it's her home." Joey's acquaintance with Jolene had begun long past high school, but he didn't think Cori needed to know the details.

  "Then maybe she won't appreciate a guest."

  Joey opened the door and handed her in. "She'll do it for me. And then I'll be able to sleep because I'll know you're safe."

  Cori put her hand out and blocked the door before he could close it. "I'm out of WP, Joey. Really out. I'm not testifying, and I'm not hiding anymore. You have no need to protect me any longer."

  He hadn't intended to get into the issue now, but she'd opened the door. "Cori, what happened with the candy?"

  She shook her head. "I fell asleep. I woke up and this child was staring at me. She asked if she could have some candy, and when I looked down, there were three chocolate kisses right beside my leg."

  "Did they fall out of your purse?"

  She shook her head. "Kayla, the little girl, said a man had put them there while I was asleep. She said he was tall with sandy blond hair."

  "Acute powers of observation for a girl who couldn't be more than eight." Joey saw her look down at her feet. "What is it?"

  "When the mother asked her, she said the candy fell out of my purse."

  Joey closed the car door and went to his side. As he slid behind the wheel he felt a terrible sense of foreboding. Cori St. John was likely on the edge of a total breakdown. And she had no one in the world to help her. "You'll like Chez Jolene." He started the car and realized that dusk had begun to fall.

  Along the levee the sky was an electric pink that faded to mauve near the dark horizon. They pulled into traffic and rode through the neon streets of the Quarter before they reached the business district and, finally, the quiet of the huge old oaks and houses of uptown. The graceful limbs of the trees canopied the street and cut the vivid sky into an intricate quilt of shifting shades of pink and purple.

  "Winter was always my favorite time in New Orleans." Cori spoke to break the silence. She was too aware of Joey beside her. Too drawn to his profile and the way his hand gripped the gearshift.

  "Some of these houses really do the decorating up right." He pointed to a big white mansion whose entire yard was filled with the twinkle of tiny lights. As darkness fell, more and more of the Christmas decorations were brought to life.

  "I've missed this." Cori stared out her window and exhaled on the glass, creating a tiny circle of fog.

  "I'm sure they have Christmas lights in Houston."

  "They do. But they don't have the homes and the trees and the...total abandonment to decorating.

  Houston is more restrained."

  Joey laughed out loud. "So Houston is not like The City That Care Forgot."

  Cori turned on him. That phrase had always been one of Kit's favorites to describe New Orleans. "I don't suppose I ever really thought of New Orleans as a carefree place. But it is alive. There's always music and food and laughter." She laughed self-consciously at herself. "I sound like I should work for the state tourism commission."

  "And abandon your art?" Joey was teasing, but he instantly sensed that Cori had not taken his question as banter.

  "If I could go back in time and never have entered Augustine's. If I could make it so that Kit and I were both thirty minutes later. If I could change that one day, I'd give up my talent. I'd be happy to give up..."

  Joey put his hand gently against her mouth. "Don't ever say things like that, Cori. You tempt fate when you offer your talents as if they meant nothing to you." He lowered his hand. "You can't change what happened. None of us can. What you have to do is decide to go forward."

  "I will. When I find out what happened to Kit."

  Joey knew better than to press the issue. He made a left, then a right and finally pulled down a long shell drive that was lined on both sides by oaks.

  "Somehow, I don't think this place is in my price range." Cori did okay, but she didn't have five hundred to spend for a night's lodging.

  "It's okay. Jolene works with the program."

  "But I'm not in the program," Cori reminded him.

  "I didn't turn in the paperwork. I was hoping that by tomorrow you'd change your mind and go back to Texas. I was hoping I could convince you to wait in Houston until you're called for the retrial."

  "Someone put candy beside me while I was sleeping. I saw a man who looked like my husband.

  Those things happened today, Joey. Not weeks from now. Today. This is the closest I've come to finding out anything about Kit. Do you really think I'm going to leave New Orleans now?"

  Joey parked the car, got out and went around to
her side.

  "Damn." Cori got out. "I left my overnight case in my car." She had been brain dead to allow Joey to drive her here. Now she was stranded. Without a car or clean clothes. Probably just as he had planned it.

  "I'll run it by tomorrow, early. Until then, Jolene can loan you something."

  "What makes you think Jolene would want to loan her clothes to a perfect stranger?" Cori was amazed at the way people fell into line for Joey. His sister opened her home, this Jolene woman would loan out her clothes.

  Joey put his hand on the small of her back and guided her down the brick pathway beneath the giant oaks. "Jolene's had her share of rough times. She understands."

  Cori hesitated. Was Jolene one of Joey's relocated witnesses? She knew she didn't have the right to ask. And when it came right down to it, she didn't want to know.

  Joey led her up the steps of the brick cottage-style home and to a beveled glass door that shimmered with the multicolored lights of a Christmas tree. A petite woman with hair the color of flame opened the door.

  "Joey!" She threw her arms around him and hugged as hard as she could. "Come in, come in," she said as she stepped back.

  "Jolene, this is Cori St. John." As Joey made the introductions, Cori found herself under the intense gaze of the smaller woman.

  "Welcome," Jolene said. "I have some hot mulled cider in the kitchen. Let's have a cup."

  She led the way, not asking any questions of Joey.

  When they were all seated at the table, Joey spoke. "Cori needs a place for tonight. A safe place."

  "Of course." Jolene turned a smile of warmth and sympathy on Cori. "There's a cottage in the backyard. You'll have perfect privacy for as long as you need."

  "And some clothes," Joey said. "She left her bag in her car until tomorrow."

  "Let's see. About a size eight?"

  "That's right." Cori should have felt ill at ease, but something about the woman made her feel welcome, and indeed, safe. The long day was wearing on her, and the hot mulled cider was potent and soothing. The idea of a bed was beginning to take priority in her mind.