A Christmas Kiss (7 page)

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Authors: Caroline Burnes

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General

BOOK: A Christmas Kiss
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Joey tugged her so hard she lost her train of thought as she tried to keep from losing her balance.

"Let's go now," Joey said.

Irritated at his strong-arm tactics, Cori shook free. "Since you know me, did you know my husband, Kit Wells?" She looked at Lewis and then the other officers, one by one. Three shook their heads, but Lewis nodded.

"Yeah, Kit and I used to play cards. Before he met you." His grin was quick. "He sure cleaned up his act after he started going out with you. When he told me he was getting married, I didn't believe it. Kit was never the kind to settle down. He was a guy who liked the action, the party."

Cori felt the knot in her stomach cinch tighter. She'd never heard this side of Kit. All of the officers she'd met acted as if he was a quiet man. One who had yearned for marriage and a home.

Joey saw her pale. "I think we need to go." He didn't like the public spectacle Cori had managed to create, and he didn't like standing around in the open jawboning with a guy who was having a good time revealing hurtful information.

Cori ignored Joey and spoke to Officer Lewis. "Do you believe Kit's dead?"

"I never figured old Kit to go out without a bang." He shrugged. "Then again, Kit had made some serious enemies. The talk on the street was that you wouldn't have testified if he hadn't insisted. He'd turned in his papers to resign, said he was going into the WP program with you. Everyone knew about how he supported you." He paused a beat. "Some folks like to keep the score sheet settled."

Cori felt his words like tiny flames of guilt. "Yes, everyone knew that." Her indecision had been headline news for two days. One of the television tabloid news shows had even done a story about the woman with the photographic memory who didn't want to testify. A retired judge who served as legal commentator for the show had pointed out that the justice system was falling apart because citizens like her wouldn't do their civic duty.

All along, though, Kit had urged her to listen to her heart. To do only what she felt comfortable doing. With him by her side, she'd found the courage to testify—and lost everything.

"So you think Kit is dead." Her voice was hollow, defeated.

"I didn't say that. We turned the city over looking for him. We never found a clue. Usually, a hit on a policeman can't be kept quiet. Not for two years."

"You're a very helpful man." Joey was mad enough to strangle Officer Lewis with his bare hands.

"It isn't like she hasn't heard this before." Lewis grew defensive at Joey's tone. "She knows."

"Yes, I do know." Cori turned away.

"Later," Joey said as he took her elbow and led her to his car. The word was a promise to Lewis.

"Where are you staying?" Joey asked her as he steered her. She was as lifeless as a rag doll.

"I don't know." She tried to think about places she had once wanted to stay. Not a single one came to mind. "I thought I'd get a place when I got here."

"This is the holiday season. Hotels are going to be booked." Joey felt himself sliding deeper and deeper into the mud hole that Cori St. John was digging for herself.

"I'll find some place." She shrugged. What did it matter? She wouldn't sleep, anyway. "Maybe over toward Slidell."

"I know a place uptown." Joey couldn't stop himself. She was so defeated. "It's a safe place."

"Won't your relatives get tired of you dragging me into their homes?" She gave him a brief smile.

"It's not a relative." Joey found himself smiling in return. She had a sense of humor. And she was quick-witted. He liked that. "It's a bed and breakfast. An old high school friend of mine runs it. She doesn't advertise at Christmas because it's her home." Joey's acquaintance with Jolene had begun long past high school, but he didn't think Cori needed to know the details.

"Then maybe she won't appreciate a guest."

Joey opened the door and handed her in. "She'll do it for me. And then I'll be able to sleep because I'll know you're safe."

Cori put her hand out and blocked the door before he could close it. "I'm out of WP, Joey. Really out. I'm not testifying, and I'm not hiding anymore. You have no need to protect me any longer."

He hadn't intended to get into the issue now, but she'd opened the door. "Cori, what happened with the candy?"

She shook her head. "I fell asleep. I woke up and this child was staring at me. She asked if she could have some candy, and when I looked down, there were three chocolate kisses right beside my leg."

"Did they fall out of your purse?"

She shook her head. "Kayla, the little girl, said a man had put them there while I was asleep. She said he was tall with sandy blond hair."

"Acute powers of observation for a girl who couldn't be more than eight." Joey saw her look down at her feet. "What is it?"

"When the mother asked her, she said the candy fell out of my purse."

Joey closed the car door and went to his side. As he slid behind the wheel he felt a terrible sense of foreboding. Cori St. John was likely on the edge of a total breakdown. And she had no one in the world to help her. "You'll like Chez Jolene." He started the car and realized that dusk had begun to fall.

Along the levee the sky was an electric pink that faded to mauve near the dark horizon. They pulled into traffic and rode through the neon streets of the Quarter before they reached the business district and, finally, the quiet of the huge old oaks and houses of uptown. The graceful limbs of the trees canopied the street and cut the vivid sky into an intricate quilt of shifting shades of pink and purple.

"Winter was always my favorite time in New Orleans." Cori spoke to break the silence. She was too aware of Joey beside her. Too drawn to his profile and the way his hand gripped the gearshift.

"Some of these houses really do the decorating up right." He pointed to a big white mansion whose entire yard was filled with the twinkle of tiny lights. As darkness fell, more and more of the Christmas decorations were brought to life.

"I've missed this." Cori stared out her window and exhaled on the glass, creating a tiny circle of fog.

"I'm sure they have Christmas lights in Houston."

"They do. But they don't have the homes and the trees and the...total abandonment to decorating.

Houston is more restrained."

Joey laughed out loud. "So Houston is not like The City That Care Forgot."

Cori turned on him. That phrase had always been one of Kit's favorites to describe New Orleans. "I don't suppose I ever really thought of New Orleans as a carefree place. But it is alive. There's always music and food and laughter." She laughed self-consciously at herself. "I sound like I should work for the state tourism commission."

"And abandon your art?" Joey was teasing, but he instantly sensed that Cori had not taken his question as banter.

"If I could go back in time and never have entered Augustine's. If I could make it so that Kit and I were both thirty minutes later. If I could change that one day, I'd give up my talent. I'd be happy to give up..."

Joey put his hand gently against her mouth. "Don't ever say things like that, Cori. You tempt fate when you offer your talents as if they meant nothing to you." He lowered his hand. "You can't change what happened. None of us can. What you have to do is decide to go forward."

"I will. When I find out what happened to Kit."

Joey knew better than to press the issue. He made a left, then a right and finally pulled down a long shell drive that was lined on both sides by oaks.

"Somehow, I don't think this place is in my price range." Cori did okay, but she didn't have five hundred to spend for a night's lodging.

"It's okay. Jolene works with the program."

"But I'm not in the program," Cori reminded him.

"I didn't turn in the paperwork. I was hoping that by tomorrow you'd change your mind and go back to Texas. I was hoping I could convince you to wait in Houston until you're called for the retrial."

"Someone put candy beside me while I was sleeping. I saw a man who looked like my husband.

Those things happened today, Joey. Not weeks from now. Today. This is the closest I've come to finding out anything about Kit. Do you really think I'm going to leave New Orleans now?"

Joey parked the car, got out and went around to her side.

"Damn." Cori got out. "I left my overnight case in my car." She had been brain dead to allow Joey to drive her here. Now she was stranded. Without a car or clean clothes. Probably just as he had planned it.

"I'll run it by tomorrow, early. Until then, Jolene can loan you something."

"What makes you think Jolene would want to loan her clothes to a perfect stranger?" Cori was amazed at the way people fell into line for Joey. His sister opened her home, this Jolene woman would loan out her clothes.

Joey put his hand on the small of her back and guided her down the brick pathway beneath the giant oaks. "Jolene's had her share of rough times. She understands."

Cori hesitated. Was Jolene one of Joey's relocated witnesses? She knew she didn't have the right to ask. And when it came right down to it, she didn't want to know.

Joey led her up the steps of the brick cottage-style home and to a beveled glass door that shimmered with the multicolored lights of a Christmas tree. A petite woman with hair the color of flame opened the door.

"Joey!" She threw her arms around him and hugged as hard as she could. "Come in, come in," she said as she stepped back.

"Jolene, this is Cori St. John." As Joey made the introductions, Cori found herself under the intense gaze of the smaller woman.

"Welcome," Jolene said. "I have some hot mulled cider in the kitchen. Let's have a cup."

She led the way, not asking any questions of Joey.

When they were all seated at the table, Joey spoke. "Cori needs a place for tonight. A safe place."

"Of course." Jolene turned a smile of warmth and sympathy on Cori. "There's a cottage in the backyard. You'll have perfect privacy for as long as you need."

"And some clothes," Joey said. "She left her bag in her car until tomorrow."

"Let's see. About a size eight?"

"That's right." Cori should have felt ill at ease, but something about the woman made her feel welcome, and indeed, safe. The long day was wearing on her, and the hot mulled cider was potent and soothing. The idea of a bed was beginning to take priority in her mind.

Jolene spoke to Cori. "There's a clean nightshirt on the bed and a few things hanging in the closet that should come pretty close to fitting." She turned to Joey. "Why don't you see Ms. St. John to her room? I'll send a tray over when dinner is ready. I think our guest might like some privacy."

"It's been a long day," Cori agreed. She had left Houston at midnight after only a few hours' sleep.

Now she was genuinely worn-out.

Joey led the way out the back door, flipping on small floodlights that made a wonderland out of the lush backyard. "This is beautiful," Cori said. "Extraordinary."

"Jolene took an old house and completely remodeled it. She's handy with a saw and drill. Not to mention plaster, electricity and plumbing."

"She looks too fragile," Cori said.

"Only goes to show, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover." Joey unlocked the door of the cottage, which was a miniature version of Jolene's house. He handed Cori the key but stepped inside and turned on the lights. As a precaution he went through the tiny house, checking the kitchen and bath, opening closet doors.

"Is this a standard service of WP?" Cori asked. The fact that Joey did those things without being asked made her remember Laurette's harangue about his manners.

"Habit, I suppose," he said. "But everything looks cozy here. No one should know you're uptown.

You'll be fine until tomorrow, when you head back home."

Cori was too tired to argue. She sank down on the bed.

Joey walked over and picked up her purse. "How many chocolates did you have?" he asked.

"Six. The six that were left. Three each time."

He upended her purse. Amidst the lipstick and pens, the compact and billfold, were three glittering kisses.

The reality was like a slap. "Maybe they did fall out of my purse." Cori picked one of them up.

"Silver bells. Christmas kisses. They couldn't have fallen out on their own."

"Are you certain?" Joey still held her purse in his hands. "Maybe the little girl..."

Looking up at Joey's worried face, Cori felt unsure, and she shook her head. "I'm not certain of anything anymore. Good Lord, I scared that little girl and her mother almost to death."

"Even if the candy came out of your purse, you don't know where it came from. It was a good precautionary move."

Cori knew he was trying to smooth over the event, to put the best face on it he could. For her sake and his own.

"When I fell asleep, my purse was closed. When I woke up, it was closed. And why did that little girl say she'd seen a man watching me?"

Joey gently put her purse on the bed. He knelt down and took both of the hands she held in her lap.

"We'll worry , shampoo. Jolene keeps the cottage stocked. In the morning, things will look better."

"Thank you." She knew there was nothing else to say. How could she convince Joey Tio of anything when she couldn't even convince herself?

Watching him walk to the door, she felt an impulse to call him back. But there was no logical reason to delay him. He'd given enough of his time. More than enough to a woman who'd done everything but cooperate with the rules of his employment. Still, when he turned back to her and gave a brief smile before he closed the door, it took all of her willpower to smile back. And then the door closed and she was alone.

The cottage was cozy and laid out in the design of the original French cottages. There was a bedroom, a tiny kitchen, a dining room-living room and a bath. The entire structure was thirty feet wide, and all the rooms had doors and or windows on both south and north walls to allow for the cross ventilation that would prove necessary during the summer. The design also gave Cori a view of the magically lit garden to the north, and of the backyard, which was lit by lights skillfully hung in some of the biggest oaks she'd ever seen. The effect was delightful. Weary to the bone, she decided to slip into the lavender-scented flannel nightshirt that had been left and crawl into the bed. Her brain was too tired to work anymore.

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