A Christmas Kiss

by Caroline Burnes

  "Another identity. Another location. You'll be placed back in the program, as long as you cooperate."

  "Will you send Joey out to the house?"

  "I think it would be best if Mr. Tio backed away from this case. You'll be assigned a new handler."

  Panic was the first emotion she felt, and she fought it back. "I need to speak with Joey."

  "That wouldn't be wise for him. His career is already at stake. He's too involved in this case. He's lost his professional judgment. He'll be moved to other cases. Very likely another assignment post. As hard as it may be to believe, I'm taking his best interests into consideration. And yours."

  Chapter Fourteen

  The car that waited for her was unmarked. The man driving it was someone she didn't know. He opened the front door and put her inside. "I'm to stop somewhere and get you some clothes. I'll need a list of your sizes and preferences."

  "Okay." She didn't care if she wore a flour sack. She would never see Joey again. He, too, would disappear from her life as if some hideous black magic had spirited him away.

  They turned out of the parking lot and into the line of motorists. Cori glanced out the window, not interested, not really seeing anything at all.

  Except the man with the thin face who had stepped out of the shadows near the federal building.

  "Hey!" She pointed at the man.

  "What is it?" The driver's hand went automatically to the gun concealed beneath his jacket. He brought it out at the same time he braked. "What is it?" he repeated, searching the area where she'd pointed.

  "It was Danny Dupray. What's he doing hanging around the marshals?" Cori's weariness fled and a sick feeling of dread replaced it. What was Dupray doing there? Selling information? Or buying it?

  "I didn't see anyone." The marshal surveyed the area while cars behind him honked and revved their engines.

  Cori glanced at him, suddenly alert and completely distrustful. It was possible he hadn't seen Dupray. And then again he might have. She settled back in the seat. "Never mind. It was just someone who reminded me of.. .someone from my past."

  He stepped on the gas and headed away.

  "There's a shop in the Riverwalk. Could we stop there and get some clothes? I know exactly what to get. I won't have to try anything on." She didn't give a hoot in hell about clothes. She had to figure out some way to get him to stop the car and let her out. Some place where he wouldn't be able to watch every move she made. Shopping was the only excuse she could muster.

  "I'm to take you straight to the house." He didn't look at her. "Just write down what you want, the correct sizes, where you want it purchased, and I'll make sure you get it."

  "I'd really rather get the things myself."

  "I'm sorry."

  She sighed. "It's okay." With her past behavior, it wasn't going to be easy to escape. What was Danny Dupray doing hanging out with the federal marshals? Certainly no one was going to give her any answers, and she couldn't afford to wait around and find out. She might be on a ride to her own execution.

  The car slowed and stopped at a red light. Canal Street, one of the major arteries of the downtown area, was swarming with pedestrians, cars, buses. Cori felt her body tense. They weren't too far from the Quarter, and Cori knew that was her best bet. She'd lived there. She knew many of the alleys and small private patios behind houses. If she could only get out of the car, she might stand a chance of getting away. And then what? She'd have to find someplace safe to go. Someplace where no one could find her until she figured out how to get out of town.

  Her car was in the Riverwalk parking lot, unless they'd towed it away. There was no guarantee they hadn't done that, but she had to hope it was there. She'd kept her small handbag with her, with credit cards she could no longer afford to use because they were so easily traceable, and her keys. She had less than a hundred dollars in cash. Her mind spun onward with the tiny details that her survival now depended upon.

  "Damn." The driver tried to edge into another lane of traffic because the right lane was stalled as a carload of six women began to unload in front of a shoe store. Without hesitation, Cori grabbed the door, pushed it open and jumped out into the street.

  "Hey!" He reached for her and caught her sweater.

  Cori tugged. Hard. And she was free, running as fast as she could through the crowd of pedestrians that choked the corner and waited for the light to walk. She ran with speed she never knew she had, making her way toward the old part of town where the brick streets were familiar and her only hope of hiding lay.

  "Stop her!" She heard the marshal behind her call out. His panic produced some worried glances, but no one reached out to stop her. Before the marshal could get out of the car and pursue her, she was free.

  Joey stood at the edge of the swamp looking into the distance. The two airboats that had been brought from the parish sheriff's office had combed the swamp. Deputies had swarmed the small spit of swampland, but it had been Aaron who found the gun with the silencer, dropped in the mud, empty. Kit Wells was alive, and somehow he'd managed to escape with the assistance of the man called Bailey.

  Joey thought of Cori and wanted to break something. She had seen Kit. He had doubted her, which was understandable. Kit had haunted them both—to the point that Joey was almost ready to believe in voodoo. What was unforgivable was that he had doubted her because he'd felt betrayed. When he'd seen her, bedraggled, terrified, blindly going after a man who'd tried to kill her, his good sense had fled and his defenses had gone up. He'd protected his heart instead of Cori.

  He waved to the men on the airboat. He'd combed every inch of land, and they'd searched every foot of the areas covered by water. At last they found the muddy tracks disappearing into the marsh grass. Kit Wells had once again pulled his disappearing act.

  "Let's go." Aaron walked up to him, covered in mud and wet from the knees down. "Laurette is fine.

  They got the bullet out and Cliff is with her. They radioed from the hospital. They've got the two men you hog-tied in Lafayette." Aaron's tone darkened. "Maybe you should go question them. I mean really question them. Since their pal left them for bait, they may be willing to talk."

  "Don't worry, I'll have a few words with them."

  "Where the other one went, who knows." Aaron looked out over the swamp. "Maybe Mr. Gator finally got his breakfast."

  "Two, Aaron. The other two." Kit Wells and the man named Bailey. Bailey had abandoned the other two hit men, but he'd picked up Kit. "Aaron, did you call my office before you let those men abduct you?"

  "You said not to, Joey. I did it the way you said. I hung around the fishing camp and waited for them to find your fancy car. Then I said I knew the swamps, and when they pulled the gun on me I let them convince me to take them, just like you said."

  "Someone had to have called the office and given directions or else these guys would never have found us. Someone who knew how to get here."

  "It's a good thing, whoever did it. We'd still be sitting here wondering how to get back." Aaron took his friend's arm. "Don't be angry, but I'm pretty sure it was Laurette who called. She was worried about you. She thought you were going to lose your job."

  Joey nodded. Aaron was right. It was Laurette, doing her best to cover his posterior. And Aaron was right about another thing, too. It was good that someone had called or they would still be stranded there, with Laurette's wound building up more and more infection.

  "When we get to Lafayette, can I ask those two guys some questions?" Aaron was tired, but the idea of wringing some facts from the two captives was more enticing than sleep.

  "Not officially."

  "That's exactly my point. Officially, I'm afraid you can't ask them forcefully enough. I, on the other hand, as a regular citizen, can ask in a way that they'll know I want the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

  Joey looked at Aaron's bulging arm muscles. "I can't condone acts of violence against prisoners."

  "You don't have to condone anything. You
just have to step out of the room. I want them to tell me who sent them.''

  Joey smiled. "That's exactly what I intend to find out. And about Kit and Bailey."

  "That, too," Aaron agreed. They could see the cabin in the distance, and they increased their pace.

  "We need to restock the cabin and season some more wood. After Cori testifies, I think you should bring her back here. You know, just the two of you, for a few days."

  "I'll leave the restocking to you. I may not be back for a while." Joey, in fact, had no idea if he'd have a job once he got back to New Orleans. He hadn't exactly been a model employee. They walked out on the dock, their footsteps giving a haunted echo on the rain-soaked wood. Deputies from two parishes were standing in a small group at the boat, waiting. "When they radioed the information about Laurette, did they say anything about Cori?"

  "Naw." Aaron picked up the two bags that someone had packed. In it were Joey's things, as well as Cori's and what Laurette had brought for herself. "Those men may tell you something, but they won't talk to me."

  The deputy who held the tie line pointed at Joey as they walked up. "Hey, Applewhite just radioed in. They want you in New Orleans as soon as you can get there." He held the boat steady as Joey and Aaron got on. "They said it was urgent."

  "Urgent?" What could be urgent now? "I need to question those two guys you took into custody."

  The deputy shrugged one shoulder. "It's your butt, Tio. Applewhite didn't sound really happy."

  "He's never happy." Joey felt an unexplainable sense of dread. "Did he say what was wrong?"

  "He said that female witness you had out here had escaped from custody." The deputy couldn't deny himself a dig at the federal agents. "She must be a regular Houdini. Seems you boys can't keep her in custody longer than an hour or two."

  "Escaped?" The very word made Joey angry. "Escaped from what?"

  "They took her into custody as a material witness. When they were transporting her to the safe house, she jumped out of the car."

  "She's somewhere in New Orleans, without protection?"

  "That's what the man said."

  Joey signaled to the officer in the rear to start the motor. "Let's get out of here," he said.

  "I'll see to Laurette," Aaron told him. "You go after Cori." His brow was furrowed. "Why would she run away, Joey? Those men who want to kill her are still out there."

  "I don't know why Cori would do that. Not yet. But I'm going to find her and find out."

  The powerful boat cruised through the narrow canals and finally into a broader waterway. When at last land was in sight, Joey stood, ready to jump on the dock and steady the boat for the others to get off. He turned to the deputy. "Make sure those two men are charged with attempted murder. Ask your sheriff to hold them without bail, if he can. Once bail is set they'll never be seen again. I'll be back to question them when I can."

  "We'll do what we can." The deputy waved down at the boat. "And we'll send a bill for all of this.

  You federal cops have a lot bigger budget than us locals do."

  Joey didn't bother to respond. He dug his keys out of his pocket and ran to his car. It was close to three hours to New Orleans. How fast could he make it? And would he be in time to save Cori?

  Cori instinctively headed for the areas of the Quarter where the tourists flocked. She could blend in more easily there, maybe find someone she knew. But could she embroil another innocent person in what was a fight for her life? The idea of calling her sister seemed wonderfully appealing, but Lane was more than a thousand miles away, in New York City. There was nothing her big sister could do now to help her. Without Joey, Cori knew she was on her own.

  Had she jumped the gun by running away from the marshals? She didn't have an answer to that, but the very idea that Danny Dupray was comfortable entering and exiting the federal building was something she couldn't risk. Since Joey was out of the picture, she could trust no one but herself.

  Ducking into a discount store she purchased a few necessary times and then recounted her money.

  She had only fifty-eight dollars left. There were plenty of fleabag hotels she could get for less than forty dollars a night, but it was cash up front. That would leave eighteen. She couldn't survive much longer than a day. She had to get to her car, but not until dark. If it was still in the parking lot, chances were that the marshals were smart enough to have it staked out. She'd wait until the last moment before she risked that.

  The clerk in the store was eyeing her suspiciously, and Cori realized she was standing at the door as if she were in a daze—or intending to make a clumsy try at shoplifting. She went outside onto the street and hesitated again.

  She had no idea what to do. How could she hide when she wasn't even certain who was after her?

  She walked two blocks to a bakery and bought a bagel and a cup of coffee. She wasn't hungry, but she hadn't eaten, and she knew she would need the energy. The bakery had small tables, and she took a seat, watching the people pass outside the window.

  The faces were bright with laughter and anticipation of the coming holiday. She had simply forgotten all about Christmas. The past forty-eight hours had put her in a time zone that was outside the normal experience of the thousands of people marching up and down the sidewalk, huge shopping bags in their hands, laughter lighting their faces.

  The coffee tasted bitter, and she added several spoonfuls of sugar. Once she had loved the Christmas season, but now... the very thought anchored her heart with sadness. She swallowed the last of the bagel and stood up.

  A pay telephone in a corner of the shop caught her eye. There was one person she could risk calling. Someone who'd been in a tight place before, who knew Danny Dupray and might be able to give her a line on him.

  Cori hesitated. She wasn't certain she could trust Jolene not to talk to Joey, and this time she didn't want Joey involved. He'd risked his life, Laurette's life and Aaron's in his determination to carry out his duty. Whatever happened, she didn't want Joey put at risk again. But there was also the very real possibility that Joey might not even make it back to New Orleans. If he'd been transferred, he might be on a plane at this very minute. Clayton Bascombe had not been happy with his marshal.

  Searching a quarter out of the bottom of her purse, she picked up the directory and found a small white-page listing for Chez Jolene. The quarter almost slipped from her grip as she inserted it. Forcing herself to be firm, she punched in the number.

  The one thing she had not expected was an answering machine. Jolene's cheerful voice said she wasn't in but to leave a message at the beep. The call would be returned.

  "Jolene, this is Cori. Please don't tell anyone I've called you. I'm in big trouble. I had to run away from the marshals. Danny Dupray was down at their headquarters, and it frightened me. I was afraid I was being set up. I don't have much money and I don't know what to do. I'll call back in an hour." She hung up, picked up her shopping bag and went back into the street.

  She had an hour to kill, and she had to find a safe place to hide while the minutes ticked away.

  She heard the tolling of the bell, marking the hour at three o'clock. She had two hours of daylight left. They would come after her in the darkness, and she had to be secure by then. If only it had been possible to bring the shotgun Laurette had taught her to use. The irony of that thought made her smile.

  She could see herself strolling along the Quarter, shopping bag in one hand, shotgun in the other.

  A patrol car turned the corner and she darted into the doorway of a leather shop. It struck her that the perfect hiding place was not far away, and no one would ever think to look for her there. Elated at the idea, she waited until the patrol car was gone. Then she made a beeline for St. Louis Cathedral. She could stay there for an hour, in the peace and quiet. And goodness knew, if she'd ever needed an hour of prayer, this was the time.

  The urge to run the car up on the sidewalk was almost too great to resist, but Joey managed to keep himself, and the
car, under rigid control. It was three-thirty. The day was waning, and he had to get to the office. How had they let Cori escape? Alone, in the city, she didn't stand a chance. And she didn't even know for certain that Kit was still on the loose. He pounded the steering wheel with the ball of his hand and silently urged the clogged traffic to move.

  This was his fault. He'd had a moment of doubt about Cori and her actions, and he'd allowed her to be taken from him. Never, never should he have let her leave his side.

  He could see now that the forces moving around Cori were bigger than he'd expected. Bigger than either of them knew. There had to be someone placed high in the U.S. Marshals or in the NOPD who worked hand in glove with the people who wanted to kill Cori.

  There had been too many leaks, beginning with her address in Houston. That information had come from a file that no one should have had access to except himself. Only another law officer could have possibly obtained that information. But it could be someone from any branch of law enforcement—

  marshals, police officers, court officials. The WP program was extremely well protected, but like any other system there were glitches. This particular glitch could cost Cori her life.

  He slammed the steering wheel again. If he had been thinking, he would have put all of this together much sooner. Maybe even soon enough to save Cori's life.

  His list of potential suspects was an arm long. There were too many people who had access, too many people who might succumb to the temptation of a big hunk of cash. It was often said that law enforcement officers and criminals were divided by a thin line. He'd never personally bought into that theory, but Cori's life hung in the balance. At this point, he didn't trust anyone except Laurette and Aaron.

  It didn't escape his attention that they weren't cops—and Kit Wells had been.

  He traced the Danny Dupray connection with Kit. The two had joined forces with Danny as Kit's stoolie. The bribe to use Cori as a witness had probably come through Danny. It made sense, because Kit would have noticed Cori's acute memory when he took the complaint call she'd lodged against Danny and his treatment of the women who worked at the Twinkle.