Bayou Heat (20 page)

“Is that so? What kind of mistake?”

“He thinks you’re involved in something … illegal.”

“And what do you think?”

She shivered despite herself. “I don’t know what to think. You wouldn’t tell me anything.
Then Marshall told me about finding you in Miami, working under an assumed name, mixed
up with some pretty rough characters. And I do know you’re involved in more than running
a pool hall, Teague.” She stepped closer.

“Stop,” both men ordered her.

She did, but said, “Tell me what I’m supposed to think.”

“Why bother?”

Because I love you
, she wanted to shout.
Make it all better. Make this all go away
.

Her silence spoke for her.

“I see.” He turned back to Marshall. “So what did
you two do? Is Bodette on his way here to catch me in the act?”

“Teague, please—”

He swung to her. “Please what, Erin? I asked you to trust me. To accept what I told
you, and what I couldn’t. You have a funny way of believing in me.”

Marshall interrupted. “We can settle this back at Beaumarchais.” He waved the gun.
“Come on.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Teague, don’t make this any harder on yourself,” Erin implored.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he repeated. “You two have no idea what you’ve stumbled
into here. Go home. Call Bodette. By the time he explains it all to you, this will
be over. You can have him waiting for me in Bruneaux, I don’t care. Just get the hell
out of here now.”

“Bodette?” Erin echoed. “What does he—”

“No.” Marshall almost shouted the word.

Erin turned to him. He was so agitated he was trembling.

“Marshall, why don’t you put the gun away. Surely we can work this all out.”

Marshall laughed. “So naive. So blind. Both of you. God, if this wasn’t so important
I’d enjoy the irony of it all.” Before she could think to move, he reached out and
caught her arm. In the next instant she was trapped in front of him, the long ugly
barrel of his gun pressed under her chin.

“Close, Teague. So close.”

Teague’s stomach turned at the sight before him. It
was beyond anything his worst nightmare could have conjured. Who was this man? And
how in the hell would he ever forgive himself if he didn’t figure it out in time?

“What’s going on here, Marshall?”

“Your mistake, Teague,” he said, ignoring the question, “was in giving me something
to use as leverage.”

He tugged Erin closer to him. Teague used discipline he didn’t know he possessed to
keep himself from launching across the clearing at his half brother.

“She has nothing to do with whatever is between us, Marsh. Let her go.”

Marshall laughed; the sound crawled up Teague’s spine. “Why did you have to come back?”
His voice was almost a whine. “You almost ruined everything. Almost. Where is your
partner, Teague?”

Dread twisted deep in his stomach. No. No way. It couldn’t be. “Why did you track
me down in Miami?” he asked, knowing he didn’t want to hear this answer.

“You’re my only brother. I wanted to know where you were. Family ties. Brotherly love.”
He reeled them off flatly, as if by rote.

“Bull.” He nodded toward the gun Marshall held. “You have a funny way of showing brotherly
love.”

Something in Marshall seemed to snap. His face contorted. Teague was stunned by the
hatred in his face.

“You don’t know jack about being a brother, or love, or anything else, Teague. The
going got tough and you split. Did you ever think you weren’t the only one who had
it rough?”

“You didn’t want my help as I recall.”

“No, I didn’t. What I wanted was respect.” He waved the gun at Teague but quickly
pressed it back against Erin. “I was the golden boy. I did everything right. Not like
you. I studied hard, worked hard. And I was still Grant Sullivan’s bastard son. Just
like you. But you gave up. I stuck it out. And I finally learned the secret. The secret
to being accepted. To getting what I wanted. I learned that the only thing anyone
really respects is power.”

“So you got some,” he breathed. “How, Marshall?”

“The interesting thing to me was that no one ever suspected,” he went on. “I was just
the wealthy college professor, happily bucking Sullivan tradition and not giving a
hoot.” His smile turned nasty. “I didn’t want Father’s money or prestige handed down
to me. I had that just by being his son. By staying. True power doesn’t work that
way. You have to earn it on your own. I did, Teague. Oh, did I ever.”

“Marshall?” Erin’s one word was a confused plea.

He didn’t even look at her. “Toss me your gun. Both of them. Now.”

Erin’s attention spun wildly from Marshall back to Teague. Her fear and concern for
both men along with the stunning revelations pouring from Marshall made her almost
unaware of her own predicament.

“Now, Teague.” He pressed the gun so tightly into her throat she couldn’t swallow.
“I have no problem using this, you know.”

Teague tossed his guns.

Erin whimpered, not in fear, but in protest for the destruction that was taking place
in front of her.

Any doubt she had about that disappeared with Teague’s next question.

“Arnaud works for you, doesn’t he?”

She didn’t have to ask who Arnaud was. Marshall was involved. Drugs. Arms. It didn’t
matter.

What did was that she still didn’t know why Teague was there. But she did know one
thing. She loved him. She trusted him. She believed in him.

And she could help him.

She stared at him, willing him to look at her, despite what he now thought of her.
That she’d betrayed him, like everyone else in his life, even his own family. She
hadn’t led Marshall to him, but she had betrayed him in her heart by doubting him.

Erin felt Marshall’s body tighten behind hers, as Teague’s face twisted in rage and
pain. Her heart broke for him even as her mind raced ahead, looking for any opportunity
to act. Waiting for the exact right moment. If she was wrong, she could be horribly
tragically wrong.

But then nothing about this was going to end without horror or tragedy.

There was a rustling in the trees next to them, and Marshall stilled. “Arnaud?”

A small shadow moved between them, shrouded in a dark cloak.

“Stop!” Marshall ordered.

The cloak dropped.

Belisaire.

“Stop this now.” Her words addressed both men, though she looked at neither.

“Belisaire, this doesn’t concern you. Leave now.” Teague never looked away from Marshall.

“What you do in my swamp concerns me.” She turned to face him. “How dare you desecrate
this sacred place, Teague. How dare you conduct your illicit business here.”

Teague just stood there.

“Belisaire,” Erin said, “you don’t—”

“I have it under control,” Marshall broke in, stopping her words with his gun. “I’ve
stopped him.”

The older woman ignored Erin’s outburst and Marshall’s words.

“I gave you a choice, Teague. I brought her in. I opened the door, gave you an alternative.
A way out. And yet you chose to do this instead.” She was rigid with fury as she swept
the air sharply with her raised hand.

Erin stared at Teague, tears swimming in her eyes. Stop, she wanted to scream. Leave
him with something. Someone.

She mentally implored Teague to explain, all the while knowing he wouldn’t. And that
he should never have had to in the first place.

Shame crawled through her.

Belisaire had asked how he dared. But the real question was how dare they. All of
them.

“Move out of the way, Belisaire,” Marshall instructed. It was clear Marshall had every
intention of making this work to his advantage. As he’d done from the very beginning,
Erin now realized. “This will all be over soon. No one will be hurt.”

Belisaire whirled to face Marshall.

“You were supposed to help me. To help Teague. I would never have allowed you to attend
the ritual tonight if I’d known your true purpose. You told me you were here to help.
You will regret this, Marshall.” She leveled a finger at Marshall. “You should never
have crossed me.”

Erin felt the instinctive shiver that raced over the man who held her.

Then, as if seeing Erin for the first time, Belisaire stilled at the sight of the
gun pressed tight against Erin’s throat. And it seemed as if she aged right before
their eyes.

Her shoulders drooped and she suddenly seemed very small and frail. Where only moments
before she had been the all-powerful priestess spewing righteous fury, she was now
simply an old woman who looked lost and confused.

“Marshall?” she whispered. “What in the world are you doing,
chèr?
”

Marshall laughed, and his hold on Erin relaxed a fraction.

In that instant Erin saw her chance.

She drove her booted heel as hard against his shin as she could. Throwing her head
back, she used her skull to smash into Marshall’s nose.

“Now!” she screamed over Marshall’s howl of rage and pain. She dove for Belisaire,
praying Teague would react to her cry.

Erin took Belisaire down in a tumble, trying her best to shelter the woman’s fragile
body. The first shot cracked over their heads, but their forward motion prevented
Erin from seeing if the bullet had found its target.

She felt a heavy thud nearby, and turned her head in time to see Teague roll onto
his belly, his gun propped on his forearm, aimed directly at Marshall.

Marshall, blood pouring from his nose, swung his gun to where Erin and Belisaire lay.

“Don’t do it. Don’t make me do it, Marshall.” Teague was panting. “For God’s sake.”

The gun wavered in Marshall’s hand.

“It’s over, Marsh. Can’t you see that?” His voice broke. “It’s already too late.”

“Too late,” Marshall echoed hollowly. “I guess it has been right from the start, hasn’t
it.” His arm went limp, the gun angling to the ground as he fell to his knees.

Teague lowered his chin and barked, “Now!”

Just then two men in dark clothes appeared from the path behind Erin. Within seconds,
Marshall was handcuffed
and taken away. A half-dozen other men infiltrated the area, coming out of the surrounding
trees like elves.

She saw the pitch on their faces, the weapons strapped to their bodies.

Elves with deadly force.

Teague crossed the clearing, pointedly not watching his half brother being taken away.

Erin helped Belisaire to her feet, neither one of them speaking as they watched the
well-choreographed scene being executed before them.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” She swallowed hard. “Teague, I—”

“Thank you for your quick thinking.” Then he turned to Belisaire, shutting her out.
“Grand-mère?”

“Ah,
chèr
.” Belisaire’s voice trembled, barely covering the short distance between them. She
lifted her hand, dropping it again when Teague flinched. “
Mon dieu
, what have I done?”

Teague simply turned and walked away.

Another man came over to them and took Belisaire by the arm, explaining that they
needed to question her, even though they knew her involvement was innocent. Belisaire
seemed to sink even further into herself. Eventually she nodded, but removed her arm
from his grasp to turn back to Erin.

She laid her hand on Erin’s cheek. “You made the right choice,
chèr
. Take that with you.”

Erin shook her head, feeling her eyes burn and her throat tighten. “We both failed
him, Belisaire.”

“
Mais yeah
. The very last thing I meant to do.” She let the agent lead her away.

Another man approached Erin and introduced himself as Agent Moses Sketowski. Special
investigator for United States Customs.

And Teague’s partner.

She looked at Teague, who was about ten yards away. After a moment he turned, his
gaze pinning her.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, knowing he heard her. Tears tracked silently down her
cheeks. “So sorry. I know it’s way too little, way too late, but I have to say it.”

When he said nothing and turned away, it was as if a cold wind blew through her.

Her shiver was delayed reaction. The enormity of Teague’s role in what had transpired
became clear as his partner recounted the apprehension of ten other men, from both
sides of the drug cartel. Three men had been shot, one of the drug dealers was dead.
All, including Marshall, were in custody.

She stood silently, feeling as if her whole world had just been turned upside down.
She wondered if she’d ever get it right again.

And Teague. She looked over at him, deep in conversation with one of the policemen.
She couldn’t even imagine what he felt at this point.

Once again, he’d been betrayed. By his family. By her.

She couldn’t forgive herself for that. She certainly didn’t expect him to.

Agent Sketowski touched her arm. “Dr. McClure?”

She blinked once. “Yes?” She felt numb.

“We need you to come with us back into town. We have some questions we’d like you
to answer.”

“But Teague—”

“Agent Comeaux asked you to come with us. He’ll be quite busy for a while. We’ll handle
this from here on out.” He stepped past her and gestured to the path. “Ma’am?”

She looked back at Teague, taking in everything about him, knowing it was likely the
last time she’d ever see him.

“Good-bye,
mon
Cajun,” she whispered.
I love you
.

Erin pushed open the door to her apartment. She should be elated. She’d just found
out her grant was approved. Twelve more months. One whole year. And there was already
talk of broadening her area of research, possibly bringing in other scientists with
related interests. Their joint study could have a major impact.

“Damn.” The apartment was a steam bath. The air conditioner had finally died the week
before. Mr. Danjour had fixed it twice, but apparently the problem was irreparable.