From her vantage point at the window of the cabin she could see the boat dock. Joey had placed her as far from the action as possible; she knew that. The shotgun would be necessary only as a last resort. Still, she could see the scene. With the sun dipping behind the stark cypress trees, the swamp was impressive. There was a wild beauty to the place that touched her, while at the same time it reminded her that she was totally removed from the world she knew. If anything happened to Joey and Laurette, she wouldn't have the vaguest idea how to get home.
A shaft of golden light pierced her eyes and she drew back. The truth struck her with such force that she started toward the door, then stopped herself. The men who were after her were not stupid. They were planning on using the sun to their advantage. They could come in with the light behind them, giving them a clear view of what they were attacking. Joey and Laurette would be staring directly into the blinding light. And there was nothing she could do. Her first impulse was to warn Joey, but that was foolish. Surely he'd come to the same conclusion long before her.
As if her thought had kicked the boat motor to life, she heard it crank. And then came the sound of a boat moving toward the cabin at breakneck speed.
Although the boat was too far away, Cori lifted the shotgun to her shoulder and sighted down the barrel, ready for whatever might come.
In the distance, the boat was a speck of black illuminated by the golden sun. She blinked, trying hard to distinguish how many men were in the boat, but the sun was too intense. She blinked again and lowered the gun. It was almost impossible to stare into the sun long enough to draw a bead. Determined, she lifted the gun again. This time she could see a man who looked like Aaron sitting in the back, steering the boat. Someone stood in the prow, and there were other figures, shifting even as the boat raced toward her, the wake a V of molten gold. She counted three, aside from Aaron. She could not tell if one of them looked like Kit.
The boat came in straight, not angling in as Joey had expected. Cori watched as Aaron neatly avoided the net that Joey had so laboriously set.
"Damn," she whispered as she lowered the gun so she could press her face to the window. "Damn!"
The boat completely avoided the trap and then angled so that Cori could finally see. The man in the prow stood facing Aaron. In his hand was a gun, and it was pointed at Aaron's chest. One bump, one false move, and the man's finger would automatically pull the trigger. As the boat sped by, Cori got a good look at Aaron's face. He was afraid, and ashamed that he had failed his friend.
Instead of attacking the cabin, the boat moved behind it, circling like a shark. Cori heard Laurette's lighter footsteps pounding on the dock, and she ran outside to meet her.
"What's happening?" Cori asked.
"There's no entrance from the back. It's all marsh. They can't get through. Trust me, with what's back there, they won't get through. They'll have to come to the front, but Joey's worried about Aaron.
He's afraid they'll kill him." Laurette was breathless.
"They'll need someone to lead them out of here, and my bet is they'd rather keep Aaron alive than Joey, and they don't know about you."
"That's comforting." Laurette rolled her eyes. "I have to get back. They'll have to come this way, and now we've lost the advantage of surprise, and we're handicapped by the sun. Stay in the cabin, Cori.
Stay safe."
"Right," Cori answered to her retreating back. "I'll stay really safe while everyone else gets blown to bits."
On the far side of the cabin, the boat motor was still audible, but it was farther away. Cori peered out the kitchen window but could see nothing but the waving grass that Laurette had told her was aquatic. Only an airboat could traverse that terrain. She hoped Laurette was right about that.
Feeling as if her nerves had been stretched too far, Cori went back to the front window and waited.
like Joey and Laurette, she could do nothing else.
This time the drone of the boat was no surprise. It came around the shallows that surrounded the cabin and, without warning, came straight in toward the dock.
Cori heard the opening gunshots before she realized that the men in the boat had set up a fusillade of bullets, and the guns they carried had a lot more firepower than anything Laurette or Joey had. The shotgun she carried was an antique compared to their weapons. Her first impulse was to put her hands over her ears and run to hide under the bed, but she kept her post at the window. Running would do no good; she'd tried that for two years. At last she had taken a stand.
The gunfire was heavy out at the dock, and Cori found that she was trembling as she aimed the gun.
Laurette's scream almost made her pull the trigger. The cry was a spiral of pain, a woman hideously injured. "No." Cori spoke the word, then punched open the door and stepped outside.
She had given Joey her word that she would do what he told her. Without exception. And he had told her to stay in the cabin where she could shoot anyone who tried to enter. But Laurette was hit, and though she couldn't see him, she was fairly certain Joey was pinned down on the small island where he'd taken his stand. Laurette might be bleeding to death. Surely Joey would want her to try to help.
Still holding the gun, she started down the steps. She was at the bottom and ready to dart down the dock when she felt something staring at her.
The skin on her neck prickled, and if she had been a dog, she knew her hackles would have risen.
The stare was as intimate as the touch of a cold hand. "Brently?"
She turned into the dripping face of Kit Wells. "Kit?" Cori didn't believe it. "Is that really you?" His smile was tired. "Unfortunately for you, it is." "What are you doing here?"
"I've come to finish some business that I should have finished two years ago."-
Cori had the advantage of the sun, and she used it to study Kit's face. It was him. Older, more haggard, the fine edge of robust physical fitness and masculine power had been worn a bit, but it was still the handsome police detective she'd fallen in love with—and married.
There were a million things she had wanted to tell him. Not a single one came to her mind. She could only stare, her body numbed by the final truth.
"I'm sorry," he said. "You'd better come with me."
"Where?" Another burst of gunfire out on the dock made her flinch, but she didn't take her eyes off Kit. He had been so elusive, so unreal, that she knew if she turned around for a second he would disappear, and than all she would be left with was more evidence that she was losing her mind.
"Let's go." He brought the gun up from his side.
The gun was wet, and it occurred to Cori that it might not work. She held the shotgun casually at her side. Was she quick enough to lift it and get off a shot? Staring at Kit face-to-face, could she? Her fingers twitched but that was all.
"There was a time I would have followed you to hell, Kit, but I'm not going anywhere with you now." She surprised herself. She was calm, and deadly earnest.
"I've been in hell, Brently. In ways you'll never appreciate. I made a bargain with the devil, and he called in my ticket." Kit shook his head. "This wasn't my idea. I just don't have a choice."
"Everyone has a choice. You just want the easiest way. For you."
He reached across and took her arm. His grip was firm but not angry. "Let's get this over with." He pulled her beneath the cabin and toward the swamps.
"How did you get here? There's no way."
"There's always a way, Brently. I had to walk through the swamps, which isn't exactly my idea of paradise, but at least we had the daylight."
Cori balked. "If I go with you, if I follow you out of here and don't give you any trouble, will those men leave without hurting Joey and his friends?"
Kit's smile revealed a harshness she had never seen before. "They don't want to kill a US. Marshal, but they will. If I get you out of here, they'll leave. Tio has no way to follow. We've got his buddy and the boat. He'll be stranded here, and we'll be long gone."
&nbs
p; Cori put the shotgun down. Her decision was made. Joey and Laurette could hold them for a little longer—if Laurette was still alive. But the men had more firepower. A lot more. The end was inevitable.
The only thing she could change was whether Joey had a chance at survival or not.
"Why do they want me?"
"That's a question you don't want me to answer."
Cori felt the finger of death touch her lightly on the spine. They were going to kill her. Joey had been right.
"How did you find me in Houston?" She had to know for certain it was Kit all along.
"We've known where you were since the very beginning. I thought I could make you doubt yourself.
Maybe upset you to the point that you wouldn't testify. I tried, Brently, I..."
"My name is Cori." She lashed out with the words. "Cori St. John. The woman you tricked and married is long dead."
"It doesn't matter to me what you call yourself. The outcome is going to be the same, I'm afraid." Kit pushed her ahead of him down a narrow, barely visible trail toward the back. Cori stumbled over clumps of weeds, and when they were only a few yards from the cabin, her shoes began to sink in the thick grass that was saturated with water. Kit had indeed walked in through the swamps. But Laurette had said it wasn't possible.
And Joey had been certain Kit was dead.
The long marsh grass snatched at her feet, tangling around her ankles. When she started to slow, Kit gripped her arm and thrust her forward, pushing her through grass and water that was now knee-deep.
"You want to save Tio, you better hustle. The longer it takes you to get through this, the more chances they have of blowing him away."
That inspired Cori to lift her feet higher and trudge deeper into the swamp. She focused on one step at a time, and on the curious fact that she felt nothing but contempt and hatred for the man behind her.
Had she ever loved him? It didn't seem possible now. She couldn't even remember why she had let his disappearance cause a ripple in her life. She should have been glad to see him gone. She should have turned to her new life and begun to live. The fact that she was going to die seemed inescapable, yet somehow distant. What bothered her was that she was going to die a fool.
"Go left," Kit said. He nudged her that way for good measure.
"Don't touch me," she said. She knew it sounded ridiculous. He wasn't going to touch her, he was going to shoot her. She stopped abruptly. "Why don't you shoot me here? Why go through all of this slogging through the swamp? Shoot me now and you could move a lot faster without me."
Kit drew a breath. "Believe it or not, I'm not wild about killing you."
"So why prolong my torment?" She held up her hands. "Just get it over with." There had to be a reason Kit hadn't shot her. He had become a man who did whatever he had to do to survive. Killing her would be one in a long list of atrocities. Why was he hesitating? Had he actually cared, a little, for her?
Could she use this to her advantage?
"They want to be certain you're dead. If I kill you, I'll have to drag the body out. It's easier if you walk on your own."
Cori's plans crumbled into dust. There was no sentiment in Kit's unwillingess to kill her, only practicality. A body that could push itself along was far preferable to having dead weight to carry. She turned to the left and started forward. If he touched her one more time, gun be damned, she'd claw his eyes out with her fingers.
Cori's right foot shot through the grass and water, plunging her waist-deep in mud. She was so startled by the way the ground gave beneath her that she didn't react when Kit tugged her out.
"Keep moving. This whole area is riddled with those holes."
She slogged on, trying to see through the water to the firmness of the ground beneath, but it was impossible. She hit another hole and cursed.
Kit pulled her out. "I could have used you coming in to find the holes," he said.
Cori thought she had despised him before, but his comment made her boil. She turned to speak when a movement to her right froze her. The marsh grass had begun to shimmy, and not in a way that indicated wind. Something big had slid into the water, and she could see it coming her way.
"Alligator." She spoke because in her heart she knew it was true. Now Laurette's statement about no one making it in through the swamp took on new meaning. She wasn't talking about the water. She had known there were alligators here.
"Where?" Kit spun around, and he too saw the rippling grass begin to part as the creature came toward them. "Run!" He tried to push Cori forward, but she was frozen. She couldn't take her eyes off the grass that marked the alligator's rapid approach. Every gruesome Tarzan film and natural science show that she'd ever watched held her prisoner in the wet grass.
Kit did not wait for her. He darted past her, his longer legs giving him an advantage in the thick grass and mud. Not five feet from her, he went down in a hole, pulled himself up and kept going. Cori stood perfectly still.
Movement in the tall grass ceased completely. Then the alligator shifted directions. It had forsaken her and moved after the thrashing, floundering Kit.
Turning some thirty yards from her, the reptile headed for open water, where Kit would be an easy target. Cori watched, unable to move and barely able to breathe. As the alligator passed, she caught a glimpse of it through the grass. It was at least ten feet long, deadly. When it was gone she started back to the camp, making as little noise as possible. There were bound to be others.
When Kit's scream pulsed in the still air, she put her hands over her ears and tried to block it out. As she found her way back to the shallower water, she began to run. The gunshots at the dock had ceased, and she knew only that she had to get her shotgun and see what had happened to Joey and Laurette.
She found the gun exactly where she had left it. Her fingers lifted it just as the sun sank below the rim of the swamp, giving a last, beautiful glimpse of the open swamp and the circling gun smoke that was left hanging in the still air.
Darkness was the cover she needed. When she could dart from tree to tree with some degree of safety, she made her way to the dock.
"Laurette?" Cori whispered her name, praying there would be an answer.
"Laurette?"
"Over here. I'm hit."
Cori followed her voice "How bad is it?"
"In the shoulder. I've managed to stop the bleeding, but I can't move or it starts up again."
"Joey?" Cori tried to sound strong.
"I don't know." There was desperation in her voice.
"Aaron?"
"I don't know what happened to him, either. They came out of the sun, and all we could do was fire blindly."
"Where are they?"
"They pulled back, but I don't know where. They could be out there, waiting again." Laurette's voice sounded hopeless. "What do these men want? Why are they so determined to kill all of us?"
Cori hesitated "I testified in a mobster's trial two years ago. But what I don't understand is, why kill me now? Why didn't they do it then when I was in New Orleans, unprotected?"
Laurette's answer was a groan as she tried to shift positions.
Cori inched forward until she found Laurette's leg. Joey's sister had managed to drag herself into a small depression where she was safe. As Cori felt in the darkness, she found the ground beneath Laurette's shoulder sticky with blood. A compress bandage was what she needed.
"I'm going to the cabin for some towels. Don't move, Laurette. You're still bleeding."
"Okay." Fear edged Laurette's voice.
"I'll be back. Listen for Joey. I'm sure he's okay." Cori didn't believe it, but Laurette needed something to hang on to. If she gave up, if her will deserted her, she might die, too.
Cori couldn't allow herself to think of Joey. She had to focus on saving Laurette. Bandages. That's what she had to think about. And after that, she would tackle the next physical task. She could think of anything except Joey.
Cori crept back to the cabin, found the to
wels and tore a sheet into strips. She was back at Laurette's side in less than fifteen minutes.
In the darkness, it was hard to construct a compression wrap around a shoulder, but she made the best of it until she could get Laurette into the cabin. She was almost finished when the gentle slap of the water against the dock intensified.
Automatically, Cori's fingers reached for the shotgun. She brought it up, swinging blindly in the night.
At this point, anything that moved was a likely target.
The low, mournful whistle came to her. For a moment, she didn't believe her ears. Then she gasped.
"It's Joey. Laurette, it's Joey!" She lowered the gun and whistled softly back, imitating the sound of a marsh bird as best she could.
She heard the water slush as he made the dock, and then there were the slight sounds of him easing from the water. Cori whistled again, directing him toward them.
He slipped beside her, dripping and freezing, but his voice was calm. "Are you okay?" In the darkness his fingers found her face, touching, assessing, even before she could voice her answer.
"I'm fine. It's your sister." Cori found his hand and placed it on Laurette's shoulder. "She's shot.
She's lost a lot of blood."
"I'm okay, Joey," Laurette assured him, but her voice had grown weaker.
Without a second's hesitation, Joey scooped his sister into his arms. "Get both guns," he urged Cori.
"And hurry."
Carrying the shotgun and the rifle, Cori followed behind Joey as he made his way silently up to the cabin.
"IT"S an infection." Joey pressed the cool cloth on Laurette's forehead. It was almost midnight, and Laurette's fever had come on her with terrible speed. There were no antibiotics in the cabin, nothing to deep clean the wound, and Joey had determined that the bullet was still lodged in the muscle. "We have to get her back to town."
A Christmas Kiss Page 15
