Give Him the Slip (10 page)

He'd been tempted. Oh, he'd been tempted. Which is why he'd
reached for his cell phone at three o'clock in the morning and made
arrangements that should send Maddie safely back to Texas and have him back on
his boat on the bayou by noon.

Now able to see his surroundings, Luke fired up the engines on the
Miss Behavin' II.
Then he hoisted the anchors and pointed the boat
toward home.

They'd been under way almost an hour before Luke heard Maddie
stirring below. Knucklehead plodded down the stairs, deserting him for feminine
cuddles and coos. Luke didn't hold it against the dog. Hadn't he been thinking
about those cuddles half the damned night himself?

Luke let her hide in her room until the houseboat rounded a curve
and Caddo Bayou Marina came into view. He scanned the parking lot for a
familiar car, and upon seeing it, blew out a heavy breath. "Okay,
princess. You better hope you were playing me straight." He shifted the
boat into neutral, released the wheel, and walked to the edge of the
fly-bridge. Leaning over it, he called, "Maddie? The marina's right up
ahead."

Moments later, he eased the
Miss Behavin' II
up to the
marina's gas dock. While an attendant secured the bowline, placing a plump
white fender between boat and dock, Maddie stepped off the boat, fishbowl in
one hand and purse in the other. She set the fish and her bag down, then secured
the stem to a piling with a competent double half hitch.

Surprising talent for a rock princess,
Luke
thought. But then, surprises seemed to be what Maddie Kincaid was all about.
Well,
I hope she's happy with the surprise I have planned for her.

She picked up her fish and her purse, then visually braced herself
as, for the first time since last night, she met his gaze.
She's nervous,
he
realized. But was it because of the killers or the kiss?

Maddie lifted her chin. "So, what next? We just go our separate
ways?"

"In a bit." A quick glance around suggested that the
person Luke had summoned to Louisiana awaited them inside the air-conditioned
ship store. He recognized the logo on a truck in the parking lot. "Why
don't you show me your contraband first."

"All right." She nodded, then shoved the fishbowl at
him. "Hold Oscar, would you, please? And be careful. He's had a rough
couple of days, poor baby."

Luke frowned down at the goldfish. He kind of had that dying-fish
look to him. How else had she mistreated the poor thing?

As Maddie dug in her purse for her keys, Knucklehead bounded off
the houseboat, gave a quick bark, and loped off toward the Dumpster behind the
ship store. Maddie led Luke in the opposite direction toward a maroon minivan.
She clicked a button on her keyless entry remote, and the release on the van's
back door clicked. The door cracked open.

Maddie tugged it all the way up, and the moldering scent of decay
wafted from inside the vehicle. "Son of a bitch," Luke muttered as he
got a gander at the contents. He shoved Maddie's goldfish back into her arms,
then turned close attention to the minivan's cargo.

A bundle of dry cleaning hung from a hook on the left side, a
sponge mop was propped against the backseat on the right. Between the two sat
bags, jars, and even a crate full of what Luke recognized as psilocybin
mushrooms. Lots of them. Many well on the way toward rotten. "You say you
threw some away?"

"About a third of them."

"Where?"

"The Dumpster behind Kroger in Brazos Bend."

Jesus. Luke's mind raced. "What day do they pick up trash in
that part of town?"

"The trash truck drove up just as I was leaving."

He shook his head. The woman dumped probably two million dollars'
worth of magic mushrooms into Kroger's trash can. Leaving town had been a damned
good decision.

He hoped like hell he'd made the right decision in how he'd chosen
to help her.

"Okay," he said. "Let's head for the ship store.
There's someone I want you to—"

"Sin!" The feminine shout ended on a squeal.

Luke and Maddie both turned to see a tidy, attractive sprite of a
woman rushing toward them in strappy yellow high-heeled sandals. "Oh, my
gosh. Sin Callahan, just look at you! You're even more disreputable than ever.
Still sexy as sin. C'mere, hot rod. Gimme a kiss."

"Sin?" Maddie grumbled. "Of course he's called Sin.
Had to be either that or Devil."

"Devil's my brother Mark."

Sara-Beth Branson launched herself at Luke with a laugh, and as he
lifted her and twirled her around, she planted a big, fat kiss on his mouth.
"Hi Sara-Bee," he said against her ear as he hugged her hard, then
returned her to her feet.

She smiled wistfully up at him and said his name with a sigh.
"Luke."

Sara-Beth was still no bigger than a minute, and he knew from
reading the editorial page of the Brazos Bend newspaper that she still had the
fire that had attracted him in high school. "It's good to see you."

She gave him a thorough once-over, then clucked her tongue.
"And you still make my mouth water, Sin Callahan. However, I didn't leave
my comfy bed in the middle of the night and drive for hours for nostalgia's
sake. Where's the story you promised?"

Luke winked at Maddie, whose expression had gone downright sour.

Sara-Beth smiled at her. "I don't think we've ever been
introduced. I'm Sara-Beth Branson with the
Brazos Bend Standard.
You're
Maddie Kincaid, right? You run the new senior care business in town? My
colleague Bill Stevens has helped you with your ads, I believe. I suppose Sin's
big story has something to do with you?"

Maddie turned to Luke, her big brown eyes round, stunned, and
brimming with hurt. "A newspaper reporter? You called a
newspaper
reporter?"

A reporter. A cop. Betrayal was a punch to the gut, and Maddie
fought to draw a breath.

"Maddie—"

She closed her eyes, held up a hand, and shook her head. Her
thoughts spun wildly. It was over. Her nice, calm, pleasant life. She'd go back
to jail, only this time they'd probably send her to prison.

She wondered who'd show up in Brazos Bend first. The
Globe!
The
National Enquirer!
Imagine the headlines: BABY DAGGER DRUGGER—AGAIN. She
swallowed hard. "My fault. I should have known. You are a man, after all.
You're just like... all of them."

He touched her arm. "Now, hold on a minute."

Maddie jerked away, then slammed the minivan's back door closed.
She walked around to the driver's door. "Thanks for nothing,
Callahan."

"Dammit to hell. I figured you might be difficult about this,
but I didn't expect you to pack up your mushrooms and leave before I explained.
Just slow down, Red. You came to me for help, so let me help you."

"Do
not
call me 'Red.'"

Sara-Beth watched the interchange with interest in her eyes and a
smirk on her lips.

Luke shot her a scowl, then said, "Bee is an old friend,
Maddie—"

"Obviously," she drawled.

Frustration flashed in his eyes, but she didn't care. She didn't
want to hear his excuses. Didn't want to listen to his lies. A reporter. He'd
called a lousy reporter!

"You want to go home, don't you?" Luke demanded, bracing
his hands on his hips. "Well, Sara-Beth can fix it so you can."

Right. Home to paparazzi hell.

"I trust her, Maddie." Giving her a pointed look, he
added, "The woman can keep secrets."

"That's right," Sara-Beth piped up. "I've never
told anybody about the time Luke took me to Fort Worth and we—"

"Hush, Bee." Luke scooped the fishbowl out of Maddie's
arms and pointed toward a trail leading into the woods. "There's a picnic
table a hundred yards or so into the trees. It's private. We can talk
there."

"Don't we need to wait for your cop?" Maddie asked, her
voice dripping with poison.

"He'll show when he's ready."

Indecision gripped Maddie. Should she stay or cut her losses and
leave? Make a run for it? Go on the lam?

Oh, God. She was sounding like a bad fifties movie.

When her gaze dropped to Oscar, Luke made the decision for her by
tightening his hold on the fishbowl, then started walking toward the trees.
Sara-Beth scampered right after him. Maddie hesitated, then when Luke glanced
over his shoulder, she fell in behind them.

Sara-Beth chattered at Luke, asking about his brothers, sharing
the story of how she'd bumped into Mark at a hill-country Dairy Queen last
October. Maddie muttered about the perfidy and treachery of men, making sure
she spoke loud enough for Luke to hear her.

Upon reaching the picnic table, Luke set Oscar's bowl in the
center, directed the women to take a seat, then made a quick check around.
"You here?"

As quiet as a wraith, a figure slipped from the woods and stepped
out of the shadows. As she got a good look, Maddie's mouth gaped. She looked
from the newcomer to Luke, then back to the newcomer again. Not just twins, but
identical twins. Bet the daddies of Brazos Bend trembled with fear for their
daughters when the Callahan brothers lived in town. "Mark Callahan, I
presume?"

"Devil!" Sara-Beth squealed, then she launched herself
at Luke's brother just as she had at Luke. They did the hug, twirl, and kiss
thing. "I can't believe you're here. Look at you, you and Sin. You're
still two peas in a pod, only... hunkier. So, Luke said he'd called a cop. Is
that you? I thought you were in the army."

The Callahan brothers shared a brief but significant look before
Mark said, "Not anymore. Darlin', I can't give you details. Let's just say
I have federal connections, and I trust you'll forget you ever saw me
here."

"I guess I owe you that, considering...," she said with
a sigh. To Maddie, she explained, "I was a bit of a wild child. These two
saved my bacon a time or two."

Despite her best intentions—was she really going to put her faith
in a man, in two men, again?—hope kindled within Maddie. Addressing Mark
Callahan, she asked, "You're here to save my bacon?"

He grinned at her, the same boyish, sexy, knee-melting smile she'd
seen on his brother's face, his eyes alight with the same devilish twinkle.
"Honey, I'll be happy to handle your bacon any way you want."

Luke took a step closer to her. "You're here to deal with
mushrooms and maybe murder. Bacon is my territory."

Maddie rolled her eyes as Sara-Beth croaked, "Murder?"

Luke turned to Sara-Beth and said, "Tell me what you know
about Gus Grevas's death."

"Mr. Grevas?" Her brows arched; her eyes registered the
connection. "You think he was murdered? That's crazy. He had a heart
attack. Or maybe it was a stroke. Anyway, he was in the hospital when he
died."

Luke shot a glance toward Maddie. "So it was natural
causes?"

Sara-Beth shrugged. "Well, yes. I guess. He was at least in
his seventies, maybe over eighty. No reason to question it."

Maddie gave Luke a pointed look. "I'm sure the cops wouldn't
have requested an autopsy."

"Why would they?" Sara-Beth asked. "What's going
on? Why does Maddie here need help from a reporter and a cop?"

Maddie watched Luke's eyes while he thought it through. Now that
he'd seen the mushrooms for himself, he had to believe her. Would he or his
brother pull some strings and have an autopsy ordered to prove Gus was
murdered? If Mark Callahan was some sort of hush-hush government muckety-muck,
and Luke was very-recently-former DEA, surely one of them could do that.

If
Luke trusted she'd told the truth about everything.
If
he
didn't believe her to be a pawn in one of his father's schemes.

The problem was that Maddie could see it from his point of view.
She could understand how Luke might think that Branch Callahan was using her.
Branch wouldn't go so far as drug dealing and murder to get his sons back to
Brazos Bend, but the conniving old son of a gun wasn't above seizing the
opportunity presented by the whole sordid mushroom mess. He hadn't sent Maddie
to Terry Winston; he'd sent her to Luke. Had he hoped Maddie would appeal to
his son's sense of duty? Appeal to his senses, period? Had Branch thought she
might somehow be the lure he'd been looking for to get at least one of his boys
back to town?

Maybe. Maddie wouldn't bet against the idea.

"I want to know the truth about Gus," Luke finally said.

"When's the funeral?" his brother asked.

The reporter shrugged. "I don't know."

"Can you find out for us?" Luke held his cell phone out
to her. "Now?"

Now Sara-Beth folded her arms. "What's this about?"

"All in good time, Bee. We need to take it one step at a
time, if you don't mind."