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Authors: Wendy Rosnau

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The Spy With the Silver Lining (6 page)

BOOK: The Spy With the Silver Lining
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No surprises inside: it was a carbon copy of the outside, even though the handful of lightbulbs dangling from the ceiling defused a multitude of sins. It smelled like a smoker’s heaven. A place Pierce would probably like, she thought.

She scanned the crowd of men collected at the bar, looking for someone Pierce would know—another gypsy scum. There were several to pick from.

She headed for the empty stool at the bar, noting there was a woman serving the crusty clientele—the only woman in the place besides herself. She was a dark-haired woman who looked to be in her thirties. A little on the short side, but what she lacked in height, she made up for in curves.

Casmir had always been self-conscious of her slight bustline, and the point hit home as she eyed the brunette’s cleavage. She wanted to blame the endowment on the woman’s pink two-sizes-too-small T-shirt, but fair was fair.

“What can I
gittcha?
” the busty bartender asked.

“I’ll have a…” Casmir glanced down the length of the bar as she perched herself on the stool. “A beer, I guess.”

“On tap I got—”

“Anything will be fine.”

The woman stared at her, as did the men lining the bar. It was no doubt due to her European accent.

“You lost?” the woman asked, setting the glass of beer in front of her.

Casmir reached for the glass. “I need an address,” she began.

“An address?”

“Yes, a street address.”

That brought forth a few chuckles.

“We don’t got no street addresses around here. All the mail is dropped off over at Wanda’s. You a foreigner?”

“I’m not local.”

“That’s obvious, honey. You’re lost, right?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then why do you need an address?”

The woman’s frank questions set Casmir to thinking. Polax had told her to blend in to her surroundings. It was clear she would never fit in here. Not unless she lost an eye and grew a wart. She hadn’t given it much thought until now, the disguise she would use to
fit in.
But by the looks she was getting she needed to come up with something fast.

“I’m meeting my boyfriend. He lives around here.”

That statement raised every eyebrow at the bar. Not able to take it back, Casmir produced the best suck-up smile she could muster. That was something she didn’t need to think about. The actress could charm the pants off a guard at Fort Knox.

“Who might that be?”

The question came from the end of the bar. Casmir stretched her neck and locked eyes with a shabbily dressed man in a ponytail wearing a leather strap around his neck with a knife dangling from it half the length of his arm.

She hesitated, glanced down at her hand, and suddenly the perfect cover popped into her head. “My boyfriend, or maybe I should say fiancé, is from around here.” Casmir spun the diamond and ruby ring on her finger to bring attention to it. “His name is Pierce Fourtier. Ever heard of him?”

The minute she dropped the name the entire room turned quiet. She glanced at the woman—whose mouth had dropped—then down the line of vagrants straddling their stools. Her perfect cover suddenly didn’t seem so perfect—they were all looking at her as if she’d lost her mind.

“You’re saying Pierce is your man?” Miss Bosom asked.

A second later the line of beer drinkers burst into laughter.

Casmir opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get anything out, the door slammed and all eyes turned to see who had walked in. She followed suit, and there stood Pierce, looking as if he wanted to kill someone.

If she didn’t do something quick, he was going to ruin her perfect lie and her perfect cover for being in Snake Heaven. But then, would that really matter? She wasn’t going to be here that long. If she found Mama by dark, they could be gone by morning.

She stood, checked her smile, then, making sure her acting skills were in play—an excited bride-to-be—she rushed to Pierce and wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips before he had time to slit her throat.

Chapter 7

S
he had shocked him, then went to work on the kiss until he kissed her back. Casmir knew how to put a man over the edge in a matter of seconds.

It had taken a little longer with Pierce. She’d been forced to use her tongue, but in the end she felt his body slowly relax, and at the same time come alive.

Five years of playing this game had made her a deadly adversary. Nadja Stefen might have the best hands in the business, but Casmir Balasi had the best set of lips.

A kiss was everything—if it was done right.

Casmir sucked hard on Pierce’s lower lip as she broke the kiss, then followed through with one last slow swipe over his lower lip. He had nice lips to go along with his nice complexion and hard body. Warm, not dry. Not too thin. Not too full.

Yes, very nice. On a scale of ten, she’d give him a nine and a half.

When she finished, she looked up at him and smiled like an expectant bride.

“What’s going on?” he muttered. “What are you up to now?”

“The question is, what are you up to?” She slid her hand down his chest and ran her hand along the fly of his jeans.

From the bar the woman broke the moment. “That’s quite a rock, Pierce. I guess congratulations are in order. When did you decide you were the marrying kind?”

Casmir turned around to see that all the men seated at the bar were engaged in the show as well as the question. Grinning fools, every one of them.

Before Pierce could answer and put his foot between his nice lips, she said, “Life is funny that way. Love comes when you least expect it.” She glanced back at Pierce. “Isn’t that right, honey?” She slipped her arm around his waist. Playing the giddy bride-to-be, she laid her hand on his chest. “I love my ring almost as much as I do the man. It’s to die for.”

“Now there’s a word,” he muttered.

She saw his jaw jerk as he glanced down at the bauble on her finger. She wiggled it, causing the ring to wink at him. Then she whispered, “You’re supposed to be excited to see me.”

He looked at her, faked a smile. “
Oui,
I’m excited. I can’t wait to wring your neck,” he whispered back. “Linny, send over a beer. Me and my…bride are going to steal a booth. What are you drinking,
amant?

“It’s on the bar. I thought I’d try the local favorite and order a beer.”

Casmir stepped away from him and sauntered to the bar using a little more hip action than she had when she’d entered the Ginger Root earlier. Beer in hand, she cut across the bar and slipped into the seat across from Pierce in a booth at the back.

The minute she was comfortable, he leaned forward and said, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? No one in this town is going to believe I would marry someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”


Oui,
like you.”

“Then I guess you’re going to have to work on your acting skills and change their minds. Polax said that I should use my imagination when it came to fitting in with the neighbors. As you said, why would someone
like me
choose a vacation in Le Mystère? And why would I bring my mother along?” Casmir cut him a razor-sharp smile. “I wouldn’t. Not unless I wanted Mama to meet the love of my life and soon-to-be husband.”

“You’re crazy.”

“What, so I came for the local color? To enter a beer-guzzling contest? No, let me guess, the summer sack race down main street on Sunday.”

He didn’t say anything, just scowled.

She went on. “The truth is, the only reason someone
like me
would land in Le Mystère is if I was lost, or kidnapped, or…came to meet the family and friends of the man I love.”

Casmir saw the woman behind the bar heading their way with Pierce’s beer. “Here’s your chance. Convince
Linny
that I’m the one.”

“The one?”

“The one you want to spend the rest of your life with. Merrick told Polax you’re a man of many talents. Here’s your chance to prove it. Serve it up with a smile, honey. The locals are watching.”

Thirty minutes later, they walked out of the Ginger Root, Pierce’s arm around Casmir’s trim waist. He waved to the bar crowd, smiled at Linny, then disappeared out the door with Casmir.

The minute they were out of the bar, he dropped his arm and headed for the Jeep. Suddenly he stopped and held out his hand.

“The key.”

Casmir reached into her pocket and tossed it to him, then, ignoring his scowl, climbed into the passenger side of the Jeep. Without another word Pierce climbed behind the wheel. He revved the engine while he stared at her a moment, then spun out of the parking lot kicking up a cloud of dust.

He headed down a dirt road lined with trees as if he were a race-car driver off the pace. As the minutes ticked by, the trees threatened to take over the road, but he never slowed down. It forced Casmir to lean in to avoid being smacked in the face by the foliage.

The farther they went she noticed that water was slowly creeping toward the road like a dirty sponge. The wind had rearranged her hair, and the heat and dust was exfoliating her face. She wouldn’t need a facial for a month.

She was hot and sticky, and wondered why anyone would want to drive an open Jeep when a real car with air conditioning was such a staple in this day and age.

“How far does this road go?”

“It goes until it runs out.”

“And how far is that?”

“Another mile or so.”

“But the water—”

“This is bayou country.”

“What does that mean exactly, bayou country?” she asked.

He glanced at her. “It means any time I get good and sick of you I can drown you on a second’s notice.”

“So,” she began, “have you lived in Sweat Hollow long, Pierce?”

“A good share of my life.”

“I suppose that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Your immunity to the heat.”

“Where’s this going?”

“I’m trying to bury the hatchet. If we could start over. Maybe get past our differences, and understand a little bit about each other, maybe—”

“A good way to start over would be to call Polax and tell him you made a mistake and your…future husband—” he said the word like he was spitting poison “—has everything back under control.”

“I’m not going to tell him that. It shouldn’t matter to him what our cover is.”


Our
cover?”

“Okay, we didn’t discuss it collectively, but you weren’t anywhere around.”

“Because you stole my Jeep and left me on the side of the road.”

“And you weren’t going to leave me stranded?”

“Make the call.”

Casmir hesitated, then pulled her phone from her pocket. “Okay, I’ll tell him that everything is back on schedule, and if I do then—”

“Then I’ll reconsider feeding you to Charlie.”

“Who’s Charlie?”

“Lazie’s pet alligator. He lives in the swamp out my back door.”

Casmir dialed the number, then put the phone to her ear. But before she got one word out, a snake dropped out of a tree hanging over the road and plopped in her lap.

 

He had ordered her onto the sofa, and had taken off her shoes. He made some comment about her limp. A likely con, Ruza thought. Without her shoes she couldn’t run.

She sat stiff and wary. Her knee ached. She’d twisted it trying to make her getaway. She had matching blisters, a bad knee and a vivid memory of Lazie’s mouth assaulting hers.

She needed something to calm her nerves. A double martini for starters. She hadn’t felt this vulnerable in years.

She was in the middle of nowhere, had been aroused by a lecher, and she had no idea where Cassie was.

Cassie’s welfare at the forefront of everything, she said, “You’re in trouble, Mr. Lazie. Big trouble. You have no idea who you’re dealing with. I’m connected in high places. Places you don’t even know exist.”

Her threat didn’t build a fire under his slow swagger, or change the expression on his confident, craggy face. As if they were now old friends, he knelt down and took her right foot in his hand and examined it.

“I noticed
da
limp. Now I
sees
why. You got a pair of blisters,
mon coeur.

She knew what was causing her to limp. Her shoes had rubbed her toes raw.

Ruza watched as his hands slid over her heel and cupped the sole of her foot. The brute had bad manners, and soft hands. She studied his hands. On three of his fingers he wore large silver rings. One in the shape of a crossbones, another sporting a scorpion. Dear Lord, she’d been captured by a modern-day pirate.

He stood and removed his red satin vest and tossed it in a chair.

Now what? If he went for the zipper of his jeans what would she do? She glanced at her shoes. She would need them to make a run for it, provided that her knee cooperated.

He’d removed the keys from his car and they were now in his pocket. It would do her no good to escape the house if she couldn’t use the car to get away. She’d be lost within two minutes in the woods.

A city—even a foreign one—she could negotiate. But woods full of trees and animals… No, she’d be prey of another kind.

She glanced around the living room. From the outside it looked like a bare-bones cabin. But on the inside it was cozy and clean. The walls were wood paneling, and the furnishings were old, but in good shape. She saw a wooden rocker, and a stuffed chair that was big enough to curl up in.

She bounced her tush to confirm that the sofa had a good set of springs, then felt a rush of mixed emotions, and at the forefront, panic.

“If you try anything, Lazie, I’ll scream and claw you to shreds.”

Her warning brought a smile to his face. He stood and walked away.

“Is this your house?” she managed.

From somewhere else, another room, he called out, “It belongs to a friend of mine.”

“Does your friend have a name?”

“Pierce Fourtier.”

Ruza recognized the name. Her pounding heart slowed. If he was telling the truth, then she wasn’t in danger.

“Where is he now?”

“With your daughter.
Der
comin’ soon,
cher.

Was that the truth? Ruza had learned from experience not to jump ship before there was a rescue boat in sight. If Cassie was on her way, then it would be best to be patient.

When Lazie returned, he was carrying a first-aid kit and a small brown bottle. He knelt again and took her injured feet and propped them on his thigh.

“Women and
dere
crazy shoes.” With his index finger—the one sporting the crossbones—he dabbed the smelly liquid on her blisters. Whatever was in the bottle was potent, and the pain immediately lessened. Maybe she should ask if she could rub a little into her knee?


Dat’s
it,
mon coeur.
A bandage, and you’ll be good as new. Now I’ll fix us somethin’to eat. There should be a catch of mudbugs in
da
cage under
da
dock. I’ll have a look-see.”

She was hungry, but her culinary tastes for the unusual only went so far. “I don’t eat bugs.”

He chuckled. “
Deze
are real tasty bugs. You’ll like
dem, cher.
” He grinned, then winked. “I’m a good cook. It’s a talent of mine, among other
tings,
Ruza-a….”

She knew what he was referring to. Yes, a rogue was what he was. A pirate with an appetite for more than bugs.

She pulled her foot off his leg. “I also have a few talents, Mr. Lazie. One of them is spotting a silver-tongued devil with nasty business on his mind. I warn you that I’m not as helpless as I look.”

Like before her words made him smile, then it turned into a wolf’s grin. He stood. “
Oui.
A spirited
ange. Da
most interestin’ kind.”

When he left the house he was whistling. Ruza tried to stand, and her knee gave out. Her fanny bounced back onto the sofa, confirming the springs were loaded for action. She would give Cassie two hours, and if she didn’t show, she was going to put plan B into effect.

She only hoped she would be able to figure out what that was before time ran out.

 

Her scream damn near put them in the ditch. Pierce slammed on the brakes at the same time as he reached out and snatched the snake from her lap.

With a mighty heave, he slung the reptile out of the Jeep back to where it came from.

“That was a snake!”

“And not a very nice one.”

“It was poisonous?”

“Just a bit.”

“A bit?”

“Next time, instead of screaming your head off, just get rid of it.”

“Get rid of it? You mean touch it?”

“Saying please usually doesn’t work when you’re talking to a snake. They don’t have ears.”

She was still breathing heavy, and it was the first time he’d witnessed the vulnerable side of Casmir Balasi. Pierre studied her a long minute, took in her fancy suit and impractical shoes.

“What are you looking at?”

“A woman out of her element.”

“Because I’m not fond of snakes?”

“I suppose most women don’t like snakes.”

“But you, on the other hand, feel right at home in snake heaven.”

“I grew up with them. Call Polax.”

“First I want some guarantees.”

“Like what?”

“While I’m staying at your house we won’t invite your cold-blooded neighbors in for a visit?”

“I can’t guarantee that. I live in the bayou. Make the call. Tell Polax that my neighbors are growing on you and so am I.”

“At least guarantee me that your house has windows, and an indoor bathroom.”

“That I can do.”

“Can I trust you?”


Oui.
I always tell it like it is,
amant.
No bullshit. It’s the one thing you can count on.”

“And Charlie?”

“Lazie’s pet alligator hasn’t been in my house since he was five feet long, outgrew the couch and ate the dog.”

“He ate the dog?”

The look on her face was priceless. Pierce couldn’t keep a straight face. He laughed out loud.

“You jerk.”

“Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

BOOK: The Spy With the Silver Lining
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