Target (27 page)

“I
can't see much,” Nick said, peering through the windshield of his car. “Whoopee, the sky opened up.”

“It's lovely,” Aurelie said while she tried to uncoil the knots in her stomach. They'd been driving and driving and she had no idea for how long, or how far they'd traveled.

“You always liked storms,” he said. “Shall I find a place where we can see the bayou? It looks prehistoric in weather like this. There's a good spot somewhere along here.”

She almost said they ought to go home, but why? They could go anywhere they liked and the longer they stayed away from places where other people could find them, the longer they could pretend nothing was wrong.

“Aurelie, what do you think?”

“I'd like that. We're pretty far south now, aren't we?”

“Uh-huh. There's nothing out here. That's the way I like it.”

Nothing but the two of them and a carload of sexual tension. Perhaps they'd be out long enough, and get back so late they'd dodge another opportunity to sleep together.

“It's hard to see the turns,” Nick said, slowing down. “Just past that ruined church there's a track. Never could figure out what the church was doing there. Nobody lives within miles.”

“Maybe they did once,” Aurelie said. “The place is a shell now…there it is.”

The dark hulk of a broken building, roof timbers open to the sky, lay just ahead.

Nick slowed even more. The headlights picked out the head of a narrow track and he steered that way, mowing down a line of tall grass between overgrown tire tracks. Rain slashed diagonally, relentless, with no sign of easing.

“We're nuts,” Nick said. “You know that?”

“Yeah, I do. What are we doing here?”

He laughed. “Avoiding going home.”

“I already thought of that,” she said and they fell silent. “We used to like to come down here when Delia first moved us to Pointe Judah. Remember how strange everything seemed?”

“We loved it. I still do.”

“Me, too.” The car thumped into a rut, jarring Aurelie, then bumped on again. “You do know we can't run away from ourselves, Nick?”

“Is that what we're trying to do?”

“Yes.”

“At least we're doing it together.” He looked at her, one corner of his mouth tipped up. “Given our choices, I'd rather be here than anywhere else tonight.”

She rubbed his arm and dropped her hand again. “We're sitting ducks, aren't we?” she asked. “Waiting for another attack. He must want that ruby so badly he can taste it, and he wants all of us dead just as badly.”

“He,”
Nick said. “We don't say his name. I hate the sound of it. I want to kill the bastard.”

She looked out the side window at the sopping grass and shrubs. “Who can blame you? I'd help. I never thought I'd want someone else to die.” Her stomach met her throat and the past rushed in, days and nights she had buried so deep they had rarely become even a shadow of a memory.

“What is it?” Nick asked.

“Nothing.” She turned toward him. “Are we going to get through what's happening to us?”

“Which part? Being in a murderer's sights, or loving each other?”

She stared at him. They entered trees. Moss so wet it hung like seaweed slapped the windshield, then dragged away over the top of the car. The track had all but disappeared. Nick stared ahead and drove a few more feet until Bayou Nezpique came into view.

“Know what that reminded me of?” he said, frowning, pushing at his black hair. “The way the moss goes over the car.”

She felt disoriented. “No.”

“A car wash.”

With parted lips, she stared at him. “Okay.” The idea ought to seem funny.

“Okay, but I just said we love each other.” He turned off the engine. “Am I taking too much for granted?”

“I think your timing is questionable,” she said.

“Regardless of the timing, I'm in love with you. I've never been in love with anyone but you and that's been going on for a long time. I'm pretty sick of pretending my feelings aren't my feelings.”

“We're not like other people. We can't just do what we like and not worry about who we hurt.”

He faced her. “We
are
like other people. We've got the same rights to hope and to take chances. I don't want to hurt anyone, either, but I'd like to work around that. Would you?”

Aurelie took one of his hands in both of hers and traced the veins from his knuckles up a muscular forearm. “Maybe I do. But I want you to think about something. Forbidden fruit. We became brother and sister. That's how we've thought of ourselves. Has that made it more exciting somehow? More dangerous?”

When she looked at his face he was watching her eyes. He took a deep breath. “I don't think so.”

“But you're not sure?”

“I'm sure how much I want to be with you.”

“But you're not sure it isn't, at least partly, because it feels like…” Her voice had risen and she couldn't keep it down.

“Fucking my sister?” he asked through his teeth. “Is that what you're trying to ask? I thought we were past that.”

“There are a lot of things we're not past,” she told him, her eyes stinging.

She drove him wild. Nick turned his hand and held hers tightly. “What things? You know everything about me. Why would you hold anything back from me?”

“I'm not holding anything back,” she said. “Our lives didn't suddenly turn smooth. That's what I meant. And I think it would be good if you knew everything about yourself.”

She was right, but he hated her throwing it at him like that. “I will know it,” he said. “I'll hunt down Colin Fox and hurt him till he tells me what I want to know.”

“Then what?” she asked, shaking her hair back.

“I'll kill him,” he said. “And I'll enjoy it.”

“You're not thinking.” She cried openly. “Go home. I don't want to be with you. All you think about is making yourself feel good for the moment.”

She pulled her hand away and he didn't try to stop her.

When she opened the door and pushed out into the soaked bushes and grass, he couldn't believe it. She set off in slashing rain among trees edging the bayou.

He got out of the car and ran around to the other side. “Get back here, you little fool. You don't know what's crawling around out here.”

“I know you're here,” she called. “And you're dangerous.”

Batting aside the underbrush, Aurelie ran on, moving faster than she should have been able in such poor light and with roots and uneven ground under her feet.

“Dammit,” Nick said and went after her. “Stop right there. Aurelie—stand still.”

He closed the space between them fast, but not fast enough to stop the warm rain from drenching his shirt and pants to the skin. She kept struggling on.

The eerie lime-green light off the bayou filtered to color the layer of mist.

She looked over her shoulder and let out a cry when she saw how close he was.

“That's it,” he panted. “That's…
it
.” He closed a hand on her shoulder, shot his other arm around her waist and hauled her off her feet.

“Put me down now,” she told him. When her hair was wet it reached way past her shoulders. She used both elbows to try to dislodge him.

“Vixen,” he muttered, turning her to face him. “This doesn't have anything to do with being mad at me. You're mad at yourself because you can't hate me. I make you face yourself and what you feel. It takes guts to do that and you don't have them.”

“The hell I don't.” It took both of her hands to shove her hair out of her face. “I've got plenty of guts. I just have something extra that makes me think about the other people around us.”

“And I don't? Shit, Aurelie. This is awful out here.”

“You're the one who wanted to come.”

He shook his head. “Come on. This is pointless.” He marched back toward the car, but her steps were much shorter and she held him back. She kept trying to work her hand free but he laced their fingers together and held on tighter.

“I'm not going with you,” she said in a voice he hardly heard.

Oh, great, finally the pressure had made her fall apart. “Pretend I'm someone else,” he said. “I'm taking you home.”

“Damn you, Nick Board. Nothing's solved and it's never going to be.”

“That's what you think.” Nick swung her toward him and picked her up. He carried her, complaining, in his arms and made a lot better time. “An accident forced us to play a game. It had a purpose once but it doesn't have a purpose now and I don't want to play anymore.”

“You think I do?”

He smiled into the rain. “No, I guess I don't.”

When they reached the car, instead of getting in, he sat her on the hood. She tried sliding to the ground, but he put himself between her knees and gripped her waist. “Do you think you're getting in my car like that?”

He'd left the headlights on. He had a new battery and prayed it would prove worth what he paid for it.

“I don't want to get in your car,” she said. “I'll walk home.”

“Do you know how stupid that sounds?”

She sniffed and rubbed her face hard. “Of course I do. I'm having a crisis here. That's not something you understand, is it?”

He almost laughed. “No. Wouldn't know a thing about that. Dealing with a wild woman, a wet wild woman, in the middle of nowhere is a piece of cake for me. I've told her I love her, she thinks I only want her because it turns me on that we pretended to be brother and sister for a few years. Crap!” He put his face close to hers. “Did you hear that? It's all crap. Some son of a bitch wants something we've never even seen and he's willing to kill for it. We know who he is. I said I'd like to see him dead and you decided that made me selfish, even if he is the guy who killed my mother. You're crazed, woman. And I want you so badly it hurts.”

Nick leaned on the car and wrapped her in his arms. He pushed his face into the crook of her neck and kissed her.

Slowly, her hands crept up his back. She made circles with her fingertips before she found his jaw and eased his face up until she could see him. Despite the rain on her face, he knew she still cried. She looked into his eyes, then at his mouth, and she inclined her head to bring her parted lips to his. The kiss tasted of salt and sweetness. He couldn't get close enough to her and lifted her against him. Aurelie wrapped her legs around his waist.

When she broke contact, so slowly, they breathed hard. He rubbed his nose against hers and nibbled her upper lip, and he looked down at her body. The yellow tank dress, made of knit cotton, clung to her breasts, molded her nipples. His penis, already hard, all but brought him to his knees.

She caught at the bottom of his T-shirt and worked the wet fabric up his body and over his shoulders. He had to set her back on the car and help her take the shirt all the way off.

When he moved in again, she held him back and kissed his chest, ran her fingers through the hair there, stroked it until she reached the waist of his jeans and pushed a single forefinger inside.

“Oh, God,” he said and turned his face up to the water. “I want something from you. I want you to tell me something.”

Aurelie licked one of his nipples, tickled the flat center with her tongue.

“Stop.” He caught her by the shoulders and almost laughed when she grinned up at him. “You're wicked. Did you hear what I just said?”

“I don't know if I can choose not to love you,” she said. “That's what you want to know, isn't it?”

It was good enough for now.

Aurelie pulled her scrap of a dress up, revealing full, naked breasts, and pulled it over her head. She lay back on the car hood, passive, her arms spread wide, watching his face.

Nick stroked her thighs, pressed the heel of a hand into her mound, slid his hands over her belly and ribs to push her breasts together. Bending over her, he sucked a nipple into his mouth, then kissed his way meticulously, inch by inch, downward and beneath the wisp of a thong between her legs.

The center of her swelled.

Her hips rose and fell.

Nick made love to her with his eager tongue until she convulsed, jackknifed her knees, rolled to drag open his jeans.

They came together with violence, a furious, irresistible obsession.

“N
ow you're sure you can't just tell me what's on you're mind, Miz Sabine?” Officer Sampson asked. “Chief Boudreaux likes to settle in and look at overnight reports before he starts new business in the mornin'.”

Sabine swallowed an urge to shout at Officer Sampson. He'd been in the department about two years, she thought, and was still inexperienced. “You do a good job looking after your boss,” she told him. “But I'm sure he'll see me. It's not so early now. Just tell him it's Sabine and it's about what happened yesterday.”

“Oh,” Sampson said. “What happened yesterday? Why didn't you say so. He'll want to know about anythin'to do with that. Wait here.”

She waited long enough for Sampson to walk along the corridor toward Matt's office and went tentatively after him. She might as well save any time she could.

Sampson knocked on a door and opened it. By the time he began to enter, Sabine stood behind him, and Buck Dupiere, just inside the office, saw her. He looked past Sampson. “Sabine? What d'you want?”

He wasn't as kind as Matt but she supposed that's what came from working in New Orleans.

“Miz Sabine wants a word with you, Chief,” Sampson said to Matt. “She says it's to do with what happened yesterday and she'd like to tell you about it herself.”

Sabine heard the rumble of Matt's voice and stepped past Sampson, at whom she smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “They're lucky to have you here.” She had learned a lot about making sure she complimented people. Anyway, she might be glad of Officer Sampson as a friend in future.

“Mornin', Sabine,” Matt Boudreax said. “Nice to see you. Coffee?”

“Aren't you nice,” Sabine said. “But, no, thank you.” Whatever she did, she must not appear frightened or nervous, and she must not cry. Those were the things that made a person an annoyance in situations like this.

“What can I do for you?” Max asked.

She smiled at Buck and waited, wanting him to leave.

“A problem?” he asked.

Sabine looked at Matt again and frowned. He smiled. “Buck, why don't you go make some of those calls. We're gonna run outta day before we run outta work.”

Sabine didn't look at the other policeman but he sounded okay when he said, “Gotcha,” and left.

She grabbed a handful of the braids trailing forward over her shoulder and wound them together. “It's nice of you to see me. There isn't anythin' to be worried about. I just thought it might be a good thing if I came by. You know how it is.”

“A social call?” Matt said helpfully.

“Well, no.” Sabine fanned herself with a hand. “Hoo-mama, it's gonna be a hot one. I reckon all that rain last night just set us up. And humid? Saints alive, I should say so. The air feels like it's steam. Don't you agree?”

“It's a warm day,” Matt said. “And humid. What was it you thought you should tell me?”

“We-ell.” Sabine held her tongue between her teeth and frowned. “We-ell, that's the thing. I'm not sure I should be here at all.” Ed would be mad at her, and hurt.

“Let me be the judge of that.” Matt got up. He pulled a chair forward and guided Sabine to sit down. He sat on the edge of his desk. “What is it, Sabine? You wouldn't be here if you didn't think you needed to be.”

She didn't know how it happened, but a big bubble rose in her throat and it burned, then her nose got stuffy, and tears overflowed. Once the crying began, it wouldn't stop. Bending over, she rested her face in her hands and her hands on her knees and heard noises wrench from her throat and chest. She wasn't supposed to cry. This was a time to be strong.

Covering her ears, she pressed her face against her floral dress and sobbed. “Ed,” she managed to say. “It's Ed.”

She felt a hand on her back, rubbing gently. She sniffed and fought to stop crying. Hiccups forced themselves out.

“Sabine,” Matt said close to her ear. “It's okay. Let me help you.”

She lifted her head a little and found that he was on one knee beside her. He smiled, his dark eyes filled with sympathy, and she managed to swallow. “He's gone,” she whispered. “He left in the night and he didn't come back. He wouldn't tell me where he was going or when he'd be back. Matt, I'm afraid. It's something to do with him being attacked the way he was, I know it is.”

He looked away, thinking. “Last night—at Out Back—he said he hadn't been attacked. You agreed with him.”

“He's my husband,” she said.

Matt held her hand. “Of course.” He understood she didn't think any other explanation was necessary.

The sound of voices in the corridor annoyed him and he hoped Buck or someone else would deal with whoever was out there. He didn't want to be interrupted.

A rap on the door destroyed that fragile hope. Sampson scarcely had a chance to enter before Delia Board, a green-and-yellow silk kaftan billowing behind her, walked in with both hands moving while she spoke. Her auburn hair, styled in shining, upswept waves, was a muted beacon.

Sabine moaned and went back to pressing her face into her lap. This time she folded her hands over her head.

“There you are, Sabine,” Delia said. Sarah came in behind her, her eyes filled with concern. “Where's Ed? Matt Boudreaux, I don't have to tell you again that you can't question someone without making sure they've got a lawyer. You did remember to ask for a lawyer, didn't you, Sabine?”

Matt looked helplessly at Sabine, who shook her head and renewed her gales of sobbing.

Delia searched into a capacious green straw bag and produced a cell phone. This she flipped open and punched at a button.

“Sabine's here to report a problem,” Matt told Sarah. “I'm not interrogating her.”

Already, Delia was talking to “Sam, dear.”

“Our lawyer,” Sarah said. “Delia. Delia, listen to me.”

Delia waved a hand at her and Sarah snatched the phone, leaving Delia with her mouth in an amazed “Oh.”

“Matt's not questioning Sabine,” Sarah said, then she spoke into the phone. “Hi, Sam. Yes, this is Sarah. So far there isn't any reason for you to be involved, but thank you…Yes, I'm sure. Delia will call you later to tell you all about it…Bye.”

“Thanks,” Matt said, and to Delia, “Sabine arrived a little while ago. She's very upset.”

Delia looked from him to Sabine. “Do you honestly think I haven't noticed that? We're here because we couldn't find either of them, Ed or Sabine.”

Buck came in. There was no way he hadn't overheard everything that had taken place. “I've asked for some iced tea,” he said. “Sit down, ladies. Perhaps Sabine will be calmer with you here.”

“Perhaps she will,” Matt said through his teeth and gave Buck a narrow look. Sometimes smooth Officer New Orleans baited Matt's hook.

More footsteps approached. “That was quick,” Buck said. “Nothing like iced tea to cool things down.”

“I didn't notice that things were heated up,” Delia said. She remained standing and paced, showing her kaftan and jeweled sandals to advantage. “We're calm, aren't we, Sarah? Poor Sabine's been through too much.” She stood still and looked around.
“What have you done with Ed?”

Rather than iced tea, Nick came in with Aurelie. Matt gave them an appraising look. They seemed to go almost everywhere in tandem these days. Could be a flip back to childhood, he supposed. They must have stuck close together then. He was still sifting through the story of how Delia Board had ended up with three kids she'd never seen before they showed up on her doorstep. But this morning Nick and Aurelie stood side by side, and he felt something subtly different about them.

Now he was getting fanciful. “Mornin',” he said. “Come on in. Everyone else has.”

Sabine's crying had ceased and she'd raised her head, but kept her hands over her face.

“Hey, Sabine,” Aurelie said. “Delia called to tell us you and Ed were missing and she was coming here.”

Delia called to tell us…
As in, Nick and Aurelie had been together? Where? Matt filed the snippet away, for whatever it might be worth.

Nick didn't like the way Matt Boudreaux stared at him—and Aurelie. Like he had them on some list of suspects.

And the anxiousness, the tension Sarah exhibited paralyzed him. She stared straight into his face, occasionally flicking her gaze to Aurelie, but always returning to him. He remembered to smile, cross the room and give her a hug.

“This is getting too scary,” she said, holding him tightly around the neck. “I wish it would be over.”

“Me, too,” he said, disturbed by the level of her emotion.

“Ed left in the night,” Matt said. “He didn't return home.”

Delia spread her arms. “Finally, you tell us.”

“Does he have family somewhere?” Matt asked.

“No,” Sabine said. “He's got me, is all.”

Matt cleared his throat and glanced at the Boards. “Maybe Sabine would be more comfortable without an audience.” He gave Delia a hard-eyed stare. “And before you start yellin' about lawyers, she can have one anytime she likes, but she's the one who came to ask me for help. No crime's been committed, as far as we know.”

“Oh!” Sabine shed more tears and Delia rushed to hug her.

Nick turned away from Sarah, gave an exasperated shrug and then caught Matt looking at the ceiling.

“As I was saying,” Matt continued, “this is just a chat between Sabine and me. Anytime she wants to quit talkin' to me, that's her prerogative.”

“I don't want to quit,” Sabine said. “But Miz Delia and all are welcome to stay.” She cast them glances that suggested she hoped they would.

“So be it,” Matt said. “Some things we just have to ask. They don't mean a thing. Routine stuff.”

“So ask,” Delia said.

Nick had to smile. The expression on Matt's face suggested he'd like to gag Delia. He said, “Sabine, did you and Ed have a fight last night?”

She blinked. “No. No, not the way you mean.”

“If you had a fight in a way you mean, what happened?”

“You're pushing her,” Delia said.

“Sabine's supposed to be answering the questions,” Nick said, wishing he could suggest Delia go home without causing a bigger ruckus.

“Nothing happened,” Sabine said.

Nick saw a flicker in her expression and figured Matt must have noticed, too.

Sabine's eyes moved rapidly from Matt to Nick. She threw some of her braids over her shoulder. “He decided to go out for a drive, is all.”

“Does he do that a lot?” Matt asked.

“Now you're being impertinent,” Delia said.

Matt gave Delia all of his attention. “No,” he said, “I'm not. I'm asking routine questions and hoping we can figure out how to find Ed and bring him home just as soon as we can. That's what Sabine wants.”

“It surely is,” Sabine said. “Ed doesn't go out at night. Me, that's why I'm so upset. He had that bump on his head and I don't think he was himself. I'm afraid he could have gotten into an accident.”

Someone knocked on the door once and Matt said, “Come in.”

Christian DeAngelo entered and Nick could tell Matt remembered the man from somewhere. Matt snapped his fingers, “You were at Ona's Out Back last night. You were with Finn and Emma Duhon.”

“Good morning,” Angel said. A big son-of-a-gator. No attitude except complete confidence. “Christian DeAngelo. Angel.” He put out a very large hand.

“Mornin',” Matt said and shook hands. “I'm Chief Boudreaux. Matt. This is my second-in-command, Buck Dupiere.” Buck also shook hands. Matt raised his chin in silent question.

Nick figured they'd all find out what Angel wanted when he was ready to tell them.

“I spoke with Mrs. Valenti at Place Lafource and she told me I'd find all of you here. Convenient. I'd have been coming to the station anyway,” Angel said. “I understand you're looking for Ed Webb.”

Sabine jumped up and went to him. “You know where he is?”

He put his hands on his hips. “Not exactly, Mrs. Webb.”

It sounded as if Angel had a flair for names. He'd probably learned a bunch the previous night.

“Angel,” Nick said. He had a few questions he'd like to ask himself, such as what exactly being a bodyguard meant to Finn's buddy. “How do you know Ed's missing?”
And who's been watching Delia and Sarah while you got your fingers into Ed and Sabine's business?

“Mrs. Valenti told me,” Angel said with a smile that showed fine, straight teeth but didn't warm his eyes a notch from instant freeze. “She said Mrs. Board had mentioned why she and Sarah were coming here.”