Hall, Jessica (32 page)

"Good luck, honey," another girl said, making a face at
the set. "I know I wouldn't want to take her on."

He went over every aspect of the case in his head on the drive
back to the city. Gantry wouldn't have snatched Sable without a good
reason—something to do with his arrest, probably. Gut instinct told J. D. the
big
Cajun wasn't the murderer, and if Sable was right, neither was Remy. He was
still at square one as to who had killed Marc.

Reporters and cameramen swamped the front of the police station,
so J. D. parked on a side street and went in through the back. Louie met him
outside the elevators.

"Where's Mom?"

"Your mother is upstairs, talking to your captain."
Louie sighed. "I guess you saw the TV."

"Yeah, I did." He entered the elevator with his father,
and then pushed the stop button as soon as the doors closed. "Did you talk
to Remy?"

Louie nodded. "He read some letters his wife saved, but he
didn't tell Isabel everything. Marc was engaged to someone else when he met
Genevieve. His parents came to see her when he broke off the engagement and
they scared her into leaving. Marc came back to the bait shop every weekend for
the next ten months, begging them to tell him where she went."

"So he was obsessed with her."

"Marc came looking for Sable's mother the day after the
fire," Louie told him. "Ginny's neighbors thought he was the one who
hired Bud Gantry to set it. They told him she was dead."

"So all these years, he really never knew about her." J.
D. hit the start button. "Then Sable shows up out of the blue, and
buildings start burning again."

"Cort told me Bud Gantry is dead, that he died a month after
he was convicted."

J. D. nodded. "He's dead, but his son is alive."

When they walked out onto the third floor, J. D. saw his mother in
the waiting area, with Laure and Moriah Navarre.

"J. D." Moriah saw him first and heaved a sigh of
relief.

"Jean-Delano." Elizabet gave her husband an odd look
before turning to hug her son and press her smooth cheek against his.
"We've been so concerned."

He drew back. "Concerned enough to appear on every news
station in town, I understand." He nodded toward the window and the
waiting reporters. "The public appeal was quite effective. The tears were
a nice touch, too. You haven't done that since I brought home a C on my report
card."

She lifted her chin. "I was prepared to do anything to bring
you home safely. Now that you're away from that girl, surely you can see—"

For the first time in his life, J. D. turned his back on his
mother. "Laure, I'm so sorry about this. You deserved better for you and
Marc. Forgive my mother for interfering—she means well."

The widow tried to smile. "You don't have to apologize to me,
Jean-Delano."

"Moriah." He took her hand in his. "I know my
mother had led you to believe some things about us, but I should have corrected
that a long time ago."

Her eyes shimmered but she nodded.

Elizabet threw up her hands. "You are going to let this girl
ruin your life? Again?"

"She is my life."

"No. I forbid it. I
forbid
you to have anything to do
with her."

"This isn't a C on my report card." J. D. gave his
mother a cool look. "I'm in love with Isabel, and as soon as this is over,
I'm marrying her. You can make that your next announcement to the press."

"J. D.?" Moriah put a hand on his arm. "That night,
before the dance at Tulane, a group of us went over to Sable's
dorm.
We'd sent her a message before that, telling her to meet you outside. The boys
threw a bucket of swamp water on her. We started the whole thing. Sable was
only fighting back when she threw the mud."

"Moriah?"

She turned to his mother. "It's true, and that's not all we
did, either." She faced J. D. "We hated her, and we tormented her. We
did everything we could think of to make her break up with you. That she
endured that as long as she did only shows how much she loved you." Moriah
ran from the room, and Laure excused herself to go after her.

"They did that to her?" Elizabet seemed dazed. "I
never knew, J. D. I thought—"

"Yeah." J. D. wanted to put his fist through the wall.
"So did I."

Louie put an arm around his devastated wife. "Let's go home
now, Eliza." He glanced at his son. "Your mother loves you, Jean-Del.
She only wanted to protect you."

J. D. would worry about his mother later. He took out his badge
and gun as a red-faced Captain Pellerin emerged from his office.

"Gamble." His boss looked ready to detonate.
"You've got some explaining to do."

"You bitches thought you'd get away from me," Billy said
as he circled around them. He held the shotgun leveled at them and used the
back of one hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. "Guess you weren't
as smart as you thought you were."

Cecilia felt the floor of the trailer rock beneath her
feet
for a moment, and then something touched her hand. Lilah's fingers, folding
around hers. That made her realize what she had to do, and she pushed Lilah's
hand back.

"Billy, this is my fault," she said, stepping between
her husband and her friend. "I just told Lilah I needed a ride into town.
I'm the one you should be mad at. You let her go on out of here and you can do
whatever you want."

"CeeCee, don't." The dancer sounded furious. "He
isn't going to shoot us."

"You don't think I will, you goddamn dyke?" Billy jabbed
the end of the shotgun at her. "Women messing with women." He spat on
the floor. "Disgusting bitches, you're going burn in hell for that."

"You narrow minded little asshole, I never touched her!"
Lilah shouted. "She's always been faithful to you, God only knows
why."

Billy's attention was focused entirely on the dancer now, and
Cecilia knew she'd never have another chance. Suddenly all the times Billy had
brow-beaten her, scared her, and forced sex on her came rushing through her
head. He'd treated her like an animal, and now he thought he could just shoot
them?

Never again. I'm never letting him hurt me again.
It
gave her the courage to pull back her leg and kick her husband in the crotch as
hard as she could.

As Billy shrieked and fell to his knees, Lilah grabbed the shotgun
and wrestled it away from him. When she aimed the weapon at his head, Cecilia
put a hand on her arm.

"No, honey. Don't." She bent over to look into her
husband's eyes. "You hear me, Billy Tibbideau? You're not worth the powder
and shot to blow you to the devil."

Billy choked and clutched at his crotch with both hands before he
curled over and vomited onto the floor.

"Come on, Lilah." Cecilia picked up her photo album and
backed away to the trailer's door. "Let's go now."

The dancer hesitated, and then reversed the shotgun. "This is
for raping her four nights a week, you bastard." She rammed the stock into
the side of Billy's head, which made him topple over into the pool of his own
vomit.

"He won't come after us now." Lilah looked at her,
completely unrepentant.

"No, I guess he won't."

They walked out of the trailer and Lilah took a minute to stow the
shotgun in the trunk of the car. Cecilia waited until she turned around before
she rested her hands on her friend's shoulders and leaned in.

Her lips are so soft,
she thought as she kissed
Lilah.
I hope I'm doing this right.

When she drew back, Lilah opened her eyes and touched her
fingertips to her mouth. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to." Cecilia gave her a shy smile.
"You'll have to tell me how to do the other stuff, though. I'm still not
sure how it all works when you're both girls."

"Oh, honey." Lilah uttered a shaky laugh and hugged her
for a moment before she opened the passenger door. "Come with me and I'll
show you everything."

The two women had been gone for nearly an hour when Billy regained
consciousness. The vomit covering his face and chest, along with the throbbing
agony between his legs, made him puke a second time.

"Fucking bitches." He couldn't get up; she'd kicked
him
so hard she'd ruptured him or something. His pants were soggy with his own piss
and shit. He rolled over and swallowed against a third surge of bile.

He was down, but he wasn't out. Not yet. As soon as he could, he
was going after them. He'd hunt them down and make them pay for what they'd
done to him.

Beat them until their bones break, boy,
his
dead father shouted inside his head.
Screw them until their cunts tear and
bleed. Then you skin them alive, an inch at a time.

The trailer door opened and closed behind him.

He turned his head, saw who it was. "Look what they done to
me. I gotta go to the hospital. You gotta take me."

Cold eyes moved over him. "No, Mr. Tibbideau. Our association
is finished." A gloved hand reached inside the pocket of an expensive
coat.

"You take me or—" his eyes widened when he saw the hand
reappear. "No.
No!"

The gun didn't fire, it hissed. A snake's hiss, which made no
sense to him. Neither did the fire in his chest, or the blood pouring from his
mouth. The floor rushed up to meet his face, and then everything made perfect
sense.

I
shoulda listened to you, Daddy,
Billy thought as the gun
appeared over his face.
You were right.

The gun hissed two more times.

Sable strained at the cords around her wrists and ankles again,
but Caine had tied her up too tight for her to wiggle free. "Where are you
taking me?"

"We're going to go see a friend of mine." He turned off
the highway.

"What friend?"

"Did I ever tell you that your mother was the sweetest,
kindest woman I ever knew?"

"No." She was cramped and frightened and not sure what
Caine was capable of. For now, letting him talk seemed safest. "I didn't
know you were friends with her."

"We weren't. She was just kind to me." A faraway look
came into his eyes as he stared at the road ahead. "I used to go hang
around the bait shop whenever my folks were fighting. Her parents let me sleep
there when it was bad at home. She always brought me something to eat and she'd
sit and talk to me sometimes. Nobody talked to me except Ginny. I think she was
the one who convinced Remy to hire me on."

He sounded as if he'd worshipped her. "I'm sorry, Caine. I
didn't know."

"Don't be. Ginny told me about your father and how much she
loved him, right before she left. I didn't
understand why she had to
go, and then she came with you and I did." He glanced at her. "She
let me hold you when you were just a tiny little thing. I'd never been around
babies, and I'd never seen anything as delicate and helpless as you were."

She swallowed. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Your mama asked me to mail a letter for her a few days after
she came back with you. It was addressed to your real daddy. Marc
LeClare."

"She wrote to him?"

He ignored the question. "A week after I mailed that letter,
my daddy came home and gave my mama a whole bunch of money. He told her she had
to say he was home all night, and then he left." Caine paused to pass a
slower vehicle. "I followed him to your grandparents' house. I was only
thirteen—I didn't understand why he brought the bottles and the gas can. I
thought maybe he'd borrowed them from your granddad. Then I watched him fill
the bottles with the gas, and I knew what he meant to do."

Her throat constricted. "You watched him set fire to our
house."

"I didn't stay and watch after he threw the first bottle in
the attic. He was a big man, and I couldn't stop him by myself. I ran down to
the dock to get Remy." His hands clenched the steering wheel until his
knuckles jutted. "I wasn't fast enough, though. When we came back, my
daddy was gone and the whole house was on fire. Remy heard Ginny screaming and
ran inside. He broke out a window and handed you to me. You were crying and
your hair, your pretty red hair, it was all burned off." His voice broke
on the words.

She covered her face with her hand.

"I carried you away from the house, and Remy got your mama
out. His clothes were on fire, and his
hands and face all black
and burned. Other people came, but the roof fell in and no one could get to
your grandparents. Your mama came to me, and grabbed you. She was staring at
the house and saying his name, over and over."

"Whose name?"

"Marc LeClare." His voice changed. "I went with her
to the hospital where they took Remy. I told her everything, about my daddy and
what he'd done and the money. She went real quiet, and then she said she should
have never written to him, never told him about you."