Bound by Moonlight (11 page)

“No,” he disagreed softly. “I’m the lucky one.”

“Wow! What a great car!” Oscar ran down the drive to be greeted by Giles’s boisterous, “Hey, sport. Got something for you, too. Go on and grab it out of the backseat.”

Oscar reached in to pull out a bulky box. “Wow, a radio-controlled car. And it looks just like this one!”

“Ever driven one of those before?” Giles asked.

He shook his head, all wide-eyed.

“C’mon. It’s all charged up. I’ll bet we can get it running the bases at the school.”

Oscar looked up toward the porch. “Can we, Mama?”

“Go ahead.”

While Giles crossed the street with Oscar bounding at his side, Max went down the drive to where Cee Cee was waiting.

“Like it, Det—”

She threw an arm about his neck and hauled him down for a deep, tongue-thrusting kiss that melted into a lot more emotion than she normally showed in public. She came down off her toes and gently rubbed her lipstick off his mouth.

“You’re the best, Savoie.”

“I kinda made a mess of the last one. Knowing how you love fast, sexy, dangerous things, I couldn’t resist.”

“Yes, I do.” Her gaze smoldered with promise. She kissed him again very softly and warned, “You’d better go over to the ball diamond with the boys while I can still resist you.”

As she slid behind the wheel, adjusting the seat and mirrors, as excited as a kid herself, Max watched with a satisfied smile. Until Alain Babineau jockeyed by him with a low growl that sounded like, “You son of a bitch.”

They sat on the first row of the bleachers watching Giles teach Oscar how to maneuver the radio-controlled car. While Babineau was sullenly thinking that here was yet another thing the boy would turn to Savoie for, Max dropped a bomb on him with deceiving nonchalance.

“Tell me about you and Charlotte.”

Surprise took him like an unexpected elbow to his still-aching nose. “Say what?”

Everything about Savoie put his back up. The fact that he was a criminal and should be doing time instead of playing big brother to his son. The fact that Oscar never acted like spending time with
him
was the best gift in the world. The fact that he had to work hard just for groceries and cable, when Savoie could effortlessly conjure up pearls and a car. And the fact that Savoie had scars on his body from saving Oscar’s life. Alain hated feeling grateful to him for that.

Max continued to watch the miniature car spin around the bases. “She tells me the two of you had an affair.”

Alain stared, then drawled, “If she told you that much, I’m sure she gave you all the details she felt you needed to know.”

Savoie’s gaze slid slowly to meet his. “Let’s pretend she’s never told me anything and that I’m asking you, man-to-man.”

“Man-to-man? That
would
be pretending.”

The bastard. Who did he think he was, acting as if an answer was due him? Just because he directed the majority of illegal activities in and around the city, just because he’d stepped from anonymity into obscene wealth and power, swaggering around as if he was untouchable, as if he wasn’t a monster but a real man deserving of Charlotte Caissie, didn’t give Savoie the right to pry into his very personal life. Wasn’t it enough that he had Cee Cee’s heart on a plate and Oscar’s devotion as a side dish?

“Fuck off, Savoie. What happened between me and Cee Cee is none of your damned business.”

“She told me it was nothing.” Max said smugly.

“If that’s what she told you, then why ask me?”

“I just wanted to make sure that that’s how you saw it, too.”

Babineau wanted to smack that smirk off the bastard’s face, but he wasn’t quite
that
stupid. He settled for a gradual insinuating smile. “What we have is a history together, Savoie. It goes back a long, long way, on a lot of different levels you couldn’t even begin to imagine or understand. That won’t change no matter who she’s sleeping with.”

Chew on that, you son of a bitch. Hope you choke on it.

Cee Cee stood at the kitchen window, drying off glasses while keeping an eye on the two men across the street. While appearing cordial, Max had been in her partner’s face from the second they arrived, and she knew Babineau had had about enough of it. Especially on top of everything else recently sprung upon him.

Men. Geez.

“Are you sure Ozzy wouldn’t be a bother, staying with you?” Tina asked, interrupting Cee Cee’s thoughts.

“No way. He’s a great kid. Max is crazy about him. He didn’t have any kind of childhood himself. I think he sees Ozzy as his chance to enjoy those things he missed.”

Tina looked across the street with a wistful smile. “He and Max get on so well. Like they have some special sort of understanding between them. He never
took to Alain like that. I don’t know why—they just aren’t on the same wavelength, I guess.”

Cee Cee glanced at her. Could it be that she still didn’t know?

Tina caught her look and smiled. Behind the perky exterior, Cee Cee sensed a weariness and worry as the other woman said, “I never got the chance to thank you personally for what you did for Oscar. Alain and I are so incredibly grateful.”

She shrugged. “All in a day’s work. You had the really tough job.” At Tina’s confused look, she said, “Raising him by yourself for so long. That took courage.”

“I didn’t have a lot of choice.”

“Yes, you did. And you chose the hard road.”

Tina blushed. “I don’t have regrets. Not any.”

Cee Cee hesitated, wondering how far she dare take this. Her social skills were pathetic, but she took a chance that Tina Babineau might be in the same boat.

“Alain never said much about your past, only that his sun rises and sets on you and your boy.”

Tina looked away uncomfortably. “My past isn’t much to talk about. I try to forget it, when I can.”

“I know you stayed at St. Bart’s for a time before Ozzy was born. Did you know I practically grew up there?”

“Sister Catherine talked about you all the time— though I’m not sure I believe all the stories she told about when you two were girls.”

Cee Cee grinned. “Believe them.” Then her mood sobered. “We went through a real ugly ordeal together. It changed everything about our lives, about who we
became. I don’t think I ever would’ve gotten past it if not for Max.”

“And did you? Get over it?”

Cee Cee looked into the hopeful face and couldn’t lie. “No. I’ll never get over it. But I can forget about it for a time. And that’s enough.”

Tina’s dark eyes held haunting secrets, the kind Cee Cee understood all too well, and her mood toward Alain’s wife softened.

“If you need someone to talk to, someone who knows what it’s like to be scared and helpless and alone and survive it, you might find I’m a pretty good listener.”

Tina studied her carefully, and she was about to speak when Cee Cee’s cell phone rang. She held back a curse as she went to the living room to pull it out of her purse.

“Caissie.”

“Sorry to tap you on your day off.”

She blinked in surprise. “Showboat?” Stan Schoenbaum of Vice was no buddy of hers, and the last person she expected to hear from after he and Max had gotten into it during a softball game.

“I need to talk to you about the case you’re working on. Now.”

She blinked. “Where do you want to meet? Babs and I can be there—”

“Just you, Caissie. Newton’s in fifteen. Say you’ll be there.” There was urgency in his usually arrogant voice—and desperation.

“All right,” she said slowly.

“Caissie . . . thanks.”

Now she was alarmed.

She returned to the kitchen with a regretful smile. “Gotta go. Thanks for the invite. It was nice of you.”

“Maybe we could talk some more. Maybe have lunch.”

Cee Cee liked the idea, which surprised her. “Yeah. We could do that.”

They shared a smile. Their first.

C
EE
C
EE STOOD
at the door to her new car and softly said, “Max.”

His dark head shot up from across the street, and at her beckoning gesture he came to her side at a brisk lope.

“I gotta go, baby.”

Used to her business tone, he didn’t ask for details. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you at home.”

He opened the car door for her, enjoying her pleasure as she slid into the black leather bucket seat and caressed the steering wheel. He closed her inside and was about to step back when she leaned out the window.

“C’mere.”

Happy to reap another sweet benefit in thanks for the gift, he bent to accept a kiss that was rich and tender. And definitely not about a big-block V-8.

Her palm rested against his cheek, keeping him close while she gazed into his eyes with raw emotion. “I was never truly alive until you. I just wanted you to know that.”

Then the engine roared and she tore out of the driveway, dragging his heart behind her.

_________

N
EWTON’S WAS QUIET
. The lunch crowd had gone and the serious drinkers were still in bed. Stan Schoenbaum, sitting in a booth at the back, was already into his second bourbon. When he looked up at her, she was struck by his ravaged features.

“Hey, Caissie.” His tone was flat, lifeless.

She slid into the booth. “What’s going on, Stan?”

He fidgeted with his glass, his eyes puffy and red. “You’re working that ‘Tides That Bind’ case, right?”

“Yeah, me and Babineau.”

“You just found the third girl, a hooker like the others?”

“Yeah. That’s right.”

“And if this bastard follows pattern, he’s got his new vic tucked away already.”

“Probably.” She waited patiently to find out where he was going with it.

“I think I know who he grabbed.” His eyes met hers with the torments of hell in them. “I think he has my daughter.”

T
HIS IS KELLY
. She just turned seventeen.”

Cee Cee took the school photo and studied the face of a young girl with shining auburn hair and dimples. “Pretty.”

“Our oldest. Got her daddy’s pride and her mama’s stubbornness. Always knew exactly what she wanted, and wouldn’t let anything get in her way. She wanted to be a professional dancer. I wanted to get lessons for her when she was a kid, but then the other two came along and there wasn’t a lot of extra cash for things like that. When kids got a dream, they don’t want to hear about things like braces and a new transmission or their mama getting laid off at work. She had the talent and the drive, and it was just killing her, doing nothing with it. But there was nothing I could do to help make those dreams happen, you know?”

Cee Cee made a sympathetic noise, and tamped down her impatience.

“Some girl at school told her about a club where she could dance at night and make enough to pay for lessons during the day. A
club
.” He snorted. “You know what kind a place we’re talking here. My little girl, just sixteen then, telling me she was dropping out of school to work in a titty bar.”

“I imagine you handled it with sensitivity.”

He flinched at her mild sarcasm. “I handled it the way you would have. I locked her in her room and took away all her privileges. But she found a way to slip out, and she was gone. I’ve never been so damned mad in my life.” His rock-hard jaw trembled. “Two months, we heard nothing from her. Then a call to ask for money. I wouldn’t give her any. I was sure she’d come back. Sure of it.”

“But she didn’t.”

“No. Her friend was just a hook to pull her in. There was never enough cash left over to take those classes in classical dance. And pretty soon it took more than dancing to make ends—” He broke off, his eyes dark with pain and fury.

“Why do you think something’s happened to her?”

“About six months ago, her younger sister turned thirteen. Kelly called, wanted to come home and see her, but only if we’d promise not to try and make her stay. She stopped by, looking almost like my little girl, and for a little while it was like we were a family again.”

“But she wouldn’t stay.”

He shook his head. “She gave me her word that she wasn’t doing drugs, that she was being careful, and that no one was hurting her or forcing her to do anything. We came to an agreement—her mama’s idea— that she’d come home every Sunday, have dinner with us, wear her old clothes, sleep in her bed. I’d slip her what cash I could and we’d try to talk, so if she was in any trouble, she wouldn’t be afraid to call us.

“She was tired, Ceece. So tired and unhappy the last few times she came home. And scared. She wouldn’t
say of what. She started talking about getting her GED. I was sure,
sure
, she was gonna ask if she could move back in.”

“And then?”

“She missed this last Sunday. No call. Nothing. I didn’t think much of it until the third body surfaced, then I went nuts looking for her. She was working in the same damned club the Cole girl was, and she hadn’t been at work. No one had seen her.

“That monster’s got my baby, Cee Cee. I just know it.” His head dropped into his hands.

“Stan, what do you want me to do?”

After a minute, he straightened. He looked terrible. “I told my wife she’d taken a trip up north for a few weeks. I didn’t want her to worry; it would kill her and the other kids. The press, the waiting—I can’t do that to them.” He paused, then made a humbling admission. “
I
couldn’t take it. Them plastering my little girl’s face all over the place: my little girl, the hooker.”

Understanding, she made no judgments. “Stan, what do you want me to do?” she repeated.

“Find my girl, but don’t go public with it.”

“You know showing her photo could get her home a lot sooner.”

“And it’ll bring the Feds in, and it’ll be out of our hands. If this perv doesn’t know we’re onto him, maybe he’ll keep her alive until the end of the month. Maybe I’ll get her back in time. You can follow up on the QT, get inside.”

“We’ll need to talk to your wife, Stan.” She waved off his protest. “Marilyn has to know. She’ll hate you for keeping it from her, and you know it. You need
each other’s support, and we need things from her that only a mother would know.”