Bound by Moonlight (10 page)

Time to face the music.

She made a conscious effort to appear harmless as she dressed for the Babineaus’. Instead of what he called her hookerwear, she slipped on a sleeveless shirtwaist dress of navy blue with white polka dots. The princess seams, fabric-covered belt, and soft pleats made her feel uncomfortably domestic. She’d bought it to wear during her trip to California when she’d laid her long-absent mother to rest. Navy slingbacks and a headband to keep her hair under control had her looking at a stranger in the mirror. If Max thought so too, he didn’t voice his opinion.

He was silent as he pulled on slouchy cargo pants and a black polo shirt, along with his favored red high-tops. No snooty Armani for him, no racy cleavage
for her. They looked the perfect sedate couple. For added support, she draped the pearls Max had given her around her neck, then scowled at her reflection.

“I look like I belong in a fiftiesTV show.”

Max, lacing his shoes, paused. He replied without intonation. “You look beautiful. And you belong to me.”

Say that like you mean it.
She smiled grimly. “Ken and Barbie off to visit the family.”

“Who?”

“Never mind.”

As she drove Legere’s conservative black Mercedes, Max remained closed off in his own thoughts, probably worrying over how to undo the harm she’d done. She wasn’t good at apologies; confrontation was her way of dealing with difficulties. But this was going to require some finesse, some ass-kissing.

She shook off the image of Alain Babineau’s shock when he learned the truth. And she tried to convince herself that she hadn’t irreparably ruined his future just because his callous jibe had punctured her dream of leading a normal life with Max. Because Max was right: she
did
envy what she had never had. Stability, a front lawn, competency in the kitchen, a husband who only turned a bit grumpy if the channel was switched from the ball game, and mostly, the miracle of her own child.

None of those things lessened what she felt for Max. They were old dreams, ghosts from a life she’d never been allowed to lead.

She parked the posh car in front of the Babineaus’
cul-de-sac castle. It was modest in size, with shutters, a basketball hoop, and a carport, and Babineau regarded his home with pride. He constantly talked about things like trimming hedges, cutting grass, puttying windows, and fitting the toilet with a universal wax ring. Who in their right mind wanted to fuss with mundane tasks when there was takeout and the maintenance and lawn-care services of apartment living? Yet those conveniences never made her glow with satisfaction the way Alain did after defeating some garden pest.

“Are we going to go in, or wait until they come out for us?”

She glanced at Max in surprise, then sighed. “I suppose it’s too late to just sneak off.”

His expression went flat. “Far too late.” And he was out the car door before she could comment.

Soberly, she got out on the driver’s side and saw Oscar Babineau flying down the driveway.

“Max! Hey, Max!”

The skinny ten-year-old flung himself on Max, who hugged the boy up to him, spinning about with the whip of centrifugal force. The sunburst of pleasure on his face gave Cee Cee uncomfortable pause. It was the way she used to catch him looking at her.

“Heya, Oz. You been behaving?”

“Mama won’t let me do anything else.”

Max grinned and set the boy down. “Your mama’s a smart woman. You listen to her.”

“Hey, Detective Caissie. You fixin’ to go to church?”

“Why?”

“You’re all dressed up.”

Cee Cee managed to smile. “It was this or my Kevlar.”

Oscar laughed. “You look real pretty. Don’t you think she looks pretty, Max?”

He stared at her with unnerving intensity. “Yes, I do.” He started for the house, making her hurry to catch up so that they’d reach the side door as a unified front. Where Tina and the explosive situation Cee Cee had created were waiting.

“There you are. Come on in.”

Though Tina’s smile was warm with welcome, Cee Cee tensed as the door opened.

Max’s palm fit to the curve of her spine. His touch was light as his fingers spread wide and pushed her forward, announcing dryly, “Ken and Barbie are here for lunch.”

Oscar grabbed Max’s hand the instant he cleared the threshold. “C’mon, I want to show you my room.”

Max gave the two ladies an apologetic look and allowed himself to be towed away.

Tina chuckled and shook her head. “Boys. Alain’s in his study. Why don’t you go tell him you’re here.”

Nothing had cast a cloud over Tina’s sunny disposition. Maybe Alain hadn’t said anything to her. Could she be that lucky?

Alain Babineau’s study was a tiny third bedroom where he housed a battered desk and a ratty sofa from his bachelor days. He kept his gun safe and his paperwork
in it, and this morning she felt like she was intruding upon a badger in its lair. He leaned back in his creaky office chair to regard her through narrowed eyes.

“Surprised you had the balls to show up here.”

“Having balls has never been my problem. Having brains is.”

“If you expect an argument from me, you won’t get one.” He turned back to his computer and clicked off a map of the warehouse district where they’d found their latest vic. “How’d things go with the mom?” His voice was very neutral.

She leaned against the doorjamb. “Brutal. Good kid, good family. Dumbshit boyfriend convinced her to go on a road trip with him. Dumb because she was a minor, shit because he lost all their money about an hour after they got into town, and pushed her into working that club to support the both of them.”

“Nice guy. Where is he now?”

“Skipped for Vegas with another stripper.”

“What a sweetheart.”

“Yeah. From there, it’s the same old story. Girl too proud to call for bus fare to get home. Tries to put money away, ends up putting it into her arm, and turns up on a slab. Mom’s made arrangements to take her back to Iowa when Dovion gives the okay.”

Babineau sighed. “Parenting is hell.” The layers in that couldn’t go unaddressed.

“Oscar’s a good kid, Alain.”

He turned on her, his expression fierce, voice ripping with anger. “I don’t need
you
to tell me what my boy is. Or what my wife is. I think I’d know those
things better than you and your fancy-ass, cop-killing, four-legged boyfriend.”

Retaliatory words were immediately on her lips, but a quiet voice from behind her said, “Mr. Fancy-Ass Cop-Killing Four-Legged Boyfriend thinks it’s time we took this outside.”

B
ABINEAU SURGED UP
, his chair careening into a stack of magazines, sending them sliding across the floor.
“Way
past time.”

Max curled an arm about Cee Cee to lift her out of the doorway. His stare burned into the other man’s while his tone was conversational.

“Tell Tina we’ll be back in a minute.” Without looking around to see the boy approach, he said, “Oz, go help your mama.”

“But, Max—”

“Do as you’re told,” Babineau snapped, earning a sullen poke of the boy’s bottom lip and an unmistakable stiffening of Max’s posture as Oscar mumbled, “Awright.”

Babineau pushed past Cee Cee and his adopted son to lead the way out onto his little eight-square deck off the living room. A foldout camping table with built-in seats was set up under a faded umbrella. A far stretch from the cool verandas and wicker furniture out on River Road.

“You’ve no call to talk to the boy like that,” Max began.

Babineau rocked back on his heels, hands clenching at his side. “I’ll talk to him any way I like. He’s my son.”

“He’s my blood.”

“That doesn’t give you any rights here in my home. And if you think different, I’ll toss you to the curb.”

Max’s stare was icy. “Don’t put a hand on me unless you want this to get uncivilized in a hurry, Detective.”

“What the hell is civilized about what you are?”

“Nothing. Remember that. The only reason you’re still alive is Charlotte. So be careful not to get on her bad side.”

“I’ll pass along a friendly warning to
you,
bub. Cee Cee is cop all the way around, no matter
what
side of her you get up on in the morning. And I’d know.”

Maybe not the smartest thing to say to a man who was not human, with dangerously possessive animal tendencies.

When Max refused to be goaded into a response, Babineau paced to the steps leading down into his yard and dropped onto the top one. His temper lost out to anguish.

“Is what she said true? Are Tina and Oscar . . . like you?”

“Oscar, yes. There are those who would go to any lengths to have him.”

“Like those creatures that snatched him from school.”

“Yes. He needs to be protected. You need to understand the danger he’s in.”

“He’s my boy, and I can take care of him without your interference.”

“No, you can’t.”

Babineau didn’t argue. He was thinking about
those seven sleek beings who’d kidnapped Oscar. That it was Max who rescued him, taking bullets that miraculously didn’t kill him. He was seeing those red flaming eyes, the fangs and claws. And the way Max tore through those who would harm his boy in a way he never could.

“What would you suggest?” he asked heavily.

“That he come to stay with me. The estate has security. He’d be safe.”

“And he’d grow up behind those walls just like you did, separated from life. A damned freak.”

Max didn’t answer right away. When he did, his reply was quiet. “It’s not what I would have wanted for him.”

“It’s not what I want at all. Dammit, and damn you for bringing this down on us.”

“I didn’t bring it. They didn’t even know about me.”

“Who wants him?”

“I don’t know.”

“What are they?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, aren’t you just full of helpful information.”

“He’s your son. I can’t tell you what to do.”

“Damn straight.”

“But you can’t keep me out of his life, either. He needs someone to teach him how to use his skills to protect himself.”

“So you want to introduce my kid to all your shaggy pals?”

“No. The fewer who know what he is, the better. Some secrets are meant to be kept for the good of all. You might want to impress that upon Hammond and
Boucher. Jimmy hid me from notice for good reason. I didn’t know what I was until my father found me and told me.”

“Your father?”

“Oscar’s father. He’s dead now, so I can’t find out any more from him.”

“Oscar’s father. Tina’s . . . what?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know Oscar and I were related until after our father died. I don’t know the details. I’m not sure Tina does, either.”

“We knew there was something wrong with the boy, but thought it was something like ADD. But Tina—” His voice broke. “She’s not human? They’re not human? How could she hide something like this from me?”

For a moment Max saw not a threat, but a man whose heart was shattered. “Probably because she doesn’t know.”

The sliding door opened behind them.

“Hey, you two, wash up. We’re about ready to eat,” Tina said.

And as Babineau went inside, Max noted how he went out of his way not to brush against the woman he’d married.

T
HE SUN WAS
warm, the breeze light, the food ample and satisfying. Oscar and Tina kept up a steady banter with Max, while Alain and Cee Cee were mostly quiet. The only topic they could safely talk about, work, had been placed off-limits.

Max made his move, asking Tina, “What’s Oscar doing over his school break this summer?”

“We haven’t thought about it yet.”

Oscar perked up, all ears.

“I’ve been thinking about inviting him to stay out at the house. That’d give you two some time alone, too. Would you like that, Ozzy?”

Oscar bounced in his lawn chair. “Could I? We could do things together like you promised. And Giles and Pete can teach me about cars and engines and stuff.”

Max’s gaze lifted, cool and calculated. “We’d have to make sure it was okay with your father.”

Babineau met that steady stare without betraying the fury roaring through him. What could he say without coming off like the villain? “It’s a ways off, Oscar. I thought we were planning to do some stuff together, just you and me?”

Oscar blinked at him, too young to cloak his disappointment. “Oh, yeah.”

“There are a lot of weeks in the summer. No reason you can’t do both.” Max smiled, the clever diplomat.

“We can talk about it later,” Tina decided, changing the volatile subject by telling Cee Cee, “What beautiful pearls.”

Cee Cee touched them, flustered by the sudden compliment. “Oh, thanks. Max bought them for me.”

She could swear she heard her partner’s teeth grind across the table.

They were clearing the dishes when a distinctive roar caught Cee Cee’s attention. She leaned over the kitchen sink to look out the window and gave a whistle.

“Man oh man, will you look at that hot baby.”

Tina looked at the bright orange car rumbling down the street, perplexed when it turned into the driveway to sit idling. “That’s no one we know.”

Max settled his hands at Cee Cee’s waist. “Sounds like a 1969 Yenko Camaro 427. Only two hundred others ever made.”

She turned, her gaze bright with excitement.

He smiled. “Go see if you like it,
sha
.”

With an uncharacteristic squeal, she raced outside. Giles St. Clair, Max’s burly bodyguard, had climbed out and was polishing the chrome side-view mirror with his shirttail. Before Max made it to the front steps, the hood was up and the two of them were under it as Giles pointed out the Corvette big-block V-8 that had been swapped out for the factory engine, along with the heavy-duty hardware and performance upgrades. The sight of her polka-dot-clad rump in the girlie dress and high heels as she leaned into the engine compartment sent a supercharged rush of lustful pleasure through him.

“She’s a lucky woman,” Tina commented, standing at his side.