Blown Away (16 page)

He paused long enough to smile. “Hey…you should know that. Baton Rouge, translated means red stick, remember?”

Cari rolled her eyes. “Of course. At least I did, before the wind threw a two-by-four at my head. Sorry. Please continue.”

He resumed pacing. “Anyway…Aaron is getting my motor home out of storage and heading to your place at Bordelaise to get it hooked up to utilities, etc. It will be stocked and ready to live in by the time we get there.”

Cari’s heart skipped a beat. This was really happening. “When can you get away?”

“I’m the boss, remember? I come and go when I want to. There’s nothing pending right now, so this is a perfect time for me to be absent from the office, and I’m always available by phone and e-mail if something should arise.”

Unconsciously Cari fisted her hands in her lap. “What if I can’t find it?”

“The body?”

She nodded.

“Then you go to the police anyway and tell them what you saw, and why you played out the charade.”

“I would so much rather have proof before it comes to that,” she muttered.

Mike paused, then turned to face her. “Then we find proof. Aaron’s already contacted the man I know
with the cadaver dog. If we have to, we’ll cover every square inch of land between the two properties and Bordelaise.”

“But the property’s such a mess! And I’m supposed to go back to the doctor in a few days to have my staples removed.”

“One thing at a time,
cher,
” Mike said gently. “If you like, I can contact someone to begin cleaning up the property, but let’s get there first and assess what needs to be done, okay?”

She nodded, then began to relax. It seemed that Mike was as good at mental organization as she was.

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” she said. “Besides, I’m hoping I’ll be able to find a few keepsakes.”

“Then we’ll look for those, too,” Mike said gently.

“As for your doctor visit, when that day comes, then we’ll come back for it. In the meantime, we go hunting.”

She shivered. “I’m a little nervous. The less I’m around Lance Morgan, the less chance I have of being recognized.”

“Don’t borrow trouble. We’ll make it work, Carolina. Trust me.”

She leaned back in the chair. “Oh, I trust you, implicitly. It’s Lance who makes me uneasy. I’ve known him all my life, and while I will agree one hundred percent that as a man, he’s worthless, I would never have thought him capable of such violence.”

Mike stopped in front of her, then leaned down,
bracing his hands on the arms of her chair—so close he could see his reflection in her eyes.

“All men are capable of violence,” he said softly. “But I would also add that the triggers that set them off are as varied as the men themselves.”

Cari shivered. His mouth was only inches away from her face. If she wanted, all she had to do was lean forward and they would be kissing. The notion was tempting—tempting enough that her lips unconsciously parted. Finally she tore her gaze from his mouth to the green fire in his eyes.

“So what’s
your
trigger?” she asked.

“Someone messing with my woman.”

Cari shivered. “Do you have a woman?”

“I don’t know,” he said softly. “Do I?”

Before she could answer, he bent down.

The kiss started out as a gentle foray, but when he heard Cari moan, and then her lips parted beneath his, he pulled her up and out of the chair, and into his embrace.

Cari’s arms went around his neck as his hands slid down to her hips.

Mike walked her two steps backward until she was pinned between the wall and his body, then finished what he’d started, kissing her over and over until she was out of breath and out of her mind.

It was Mike who finally stopped, and then only because he didn’t want their first time making love
to be outside on his veranda—in plain sight of God and the world. When it happened, he wanted her in his bed, in the dark, and the length of at least one night to get it right.

“Sweet Jesus,” Mike whispered, but it wasn’t enough. He cupped her face, then kissed each eyelid, then her cheeks, before moving down to claim her lips one last time. “You make me crazy,” he said softly.

Thankful for the wall at her back, Cari put shaky fingers to her lips to see if they were really as hot as they felt.

“Careful,” he said softly. “If you wipe away the kisses, I’ll just have to put them all back again.”

“What’s happening here?” she whispered.

“Whatever you want to happen,” Mike said. But he could tell she was rattled, and the last thing he wanted was to push her too far too fast. “So…how do you feel about taking a walk to visit Mr. Toad?”

The invitation was unexpected, but it was the perfect thing for him to say.

“Actually, I
would
like to see him—as long as he doesn’t pee on me again.”

Mike grinned. “It’s your fault, you know.”

Cari frowned. “Why?”

“Your charm and beauty are so vast that you rattle all males, even a fat, grumpy toad. Therefore, you must forgive him for his lack of manners.”

Cari burst out laughing.

The hair crawled on the back of Mike’s neck. Ah,
God…if he could bottle that sound, it would make magic.

He held out his hand, waiting for her to accept it. When she took it without hesitation, a wave of emotion swept through him so quickly it left him aching for more.

“Are you ready?” Cari asked.

“For you? Yes, ma’am,” he said, and led the way off the steps and across the lawn.

The day was warm, with a slight breeze stirring the jacaranda and wisteria blossoms just enough to scent the air. A massive live oak was about fifty yards from the house. It had been growing there long before Mike Boudreaux’s ancestors had ever set foot on American soil, weathering over two centuries’ worth of hurricanes and wars. Silver-gray strands of Spanish moss hung from the branches like the shredded remnants of a widow’s veil, and as they neared the old tree, a flock of cockatoos squawked, then took flight, as if angry at being disturbed.

“This place is so beautiful,” she said. “Has it been in your family long?”

“About a hundred years. My ancestors weren’t wealthy slave owners. My great-great-great-grandfather came to America as an indentured servant. It took him fifteen years to work off his contract. But instead of staying in Baton Rouge when he was free, the story goes that he took to the swamps, determined never to work under another man’s hand again. The woman he married was almost twenty
years younger than he was, and they had fourteen children, eleven of whom survived to adulthood.

“That’s amazing,” Cari said.

“What part?” Mike asked. “That he was indentured, or that he chose to live in the swamps among the mosquitoes and gators?”

Cari grinned. “No. That his poor wife gave birth to fourteen children. I think if that had been me, after baby number ten I would have met him at the door with a shotgun and threatened him with murder if he set foot in my bedroom again.”

Mike chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Cari’s eyes widened, then she had the grace to blush. “Oh Lord…I didn’t mean that…I, uh…only meant—”

“But I
did
…mean it,” Mike responded.

Cari glanced up, caught the look in his eyes and shivered.

“Ok…and
I’ll
keep
that
in mind,” she said.

“I now consider myself forewarned,” Mike said.

Cari smiled, then noticed they were almost at the shed. “Are we really going to see if the toad will come out?”

Mike’s lips twitched as he met her gaze. “No. I just wanted to get you away from the house and all to myself.”

“Lord save us all…a truly honest and honorable man.”

Mike reached for her. When she didn’t resist, he took her in his arms, then cupped her face.

“Honest, yes…but the longer I’m with you, the more difficult it becomes to stay honorable.”

“Who asked you to?” Cari said softly, and watched Mike’s nostrils flare as his eyes suddenly glittered.

“I’ll remember that,” he muttered, and then lowered his head and kissed her senseless.

Mike went into Baton Rouge after lunch, while Cari, with his permission, went into his office to use the computer, hoping to pull up some maps of the Bordelaise area. Even though she knew the woods like the back of her hand, she’d never looked at them from the standpoint of picking the best places to hide a body. She needed location reminders as to bayous, swampland, pasture and forests. And she needed to figure out timelines, as well.

Now that they’d found the rental car on Morgan’s Reach, it stood to reason Lance hadn’t used it to drive the body away, or he would have been caught in the tornado along with the car. So using the map and locating the place where he’d been digging the grave, then widening the area around it in a quarter-mile circle, seemed prudent. She didn’t think he would have been able to get any farther carrying Austin Ball’s dead weight.

Her other reason for using his office was that she wanted a private place to talk to her agent. She’d spent the better part of lunch with Mike discussing the wisdom of letting her agent know she wasn’t
dead. He offered his thoughts but reminded her that it was ultimately her career—her life—so it had to be her call.

Cari continued to be impressed. A man who believed she was capable of making her own decisions—and whose kisses made her crazy. So many reasons why he was impossible to resist. But every time she thought of what the future might bring with him, her thoughts rolled back to what she’d lost. Knowing her parents had become nothing but memories broke her heart all over again every time she thought about it. Then she reminded herself—
one thing at a time.

Once she logged on, she quickly found several maps of her parish, then printed them out. Now that she’d accomplished one goal, she reached for the phone to call her agent.

She’d been with Meredith Bernstein for more than seven years—almost from the start of her career. She respected her, and knew how fortunate she was that, from the beginning, they’d clicked. She felt horribly guilty for having let her believe she had died, but knew once she explained, Meredith would surely forgive her. After all, how many clients ever came back from the grave?

She punched in the numbers, then scooted back in Mike’s chair, relishing the soft leather and deep seat as she waited for her call to be answered.

“Meredith Bernstein.”

“Meredith…it’s me, Cari. Don’t panic. I’m not dead, and I can explain everything.”

The shriek hurt her ear. She winced as she held the receiver away, then waited for the noise to subside.

“Meredith…hello…are you there?”

“Is this someone’s idea of a sick joke?” Meredith snapped.

Cari sighed. “It’s not a joke. I’m in hiding.” Then her voice broke. “My parents are dead, but it was my cousin, Susan, who died, who was buried in my place.”

“Oh my God! Why? What happened? Where were you? I don’t understand! Oh! Oh! I can’t wait to tell Leslie. She’ll be beside herself. We’ve both been in absolute mourning about you.”

Cari rolled her eyes. Telling her editor, Leslie Wainger, was a complete no-no.

“No. Wait! You can’t tell Leslie! You can’t tell anyone. Not yet.”

“But why? This is wonderful news!”

“Listen to me. This is serious.”

She heard Meredith take a deep breath. “Okay, I’m calm now.”

“I’m a witness to a murder.”

A second shriek hurt her ear again.

Cari sighed. “Meredith.”

“I’m calm. I’m calm. Now talk to me.”

And so Cari began, relating what happened from the time she’d walked up on Lance burying the body to finding her whole family dead and realizing that her only way out was a dangerous masquerade.

“Wait! Wait! Are you telling me the killer is the
man you were engaged to a couple of years ago?” Meredith cried.

“Yes.”

This time, the shriek was at least a half-dozen decibels down on the shriek-o-meter.

“What on earth? Do you know why? Did you know the man he killed?” Meredith asked.

Cari told her about what she knew up to this point, and what they planned to do next.

“I don’t know,” Meredith said. “It seems awfully dangerous, going back to try to find that body. It could be anywhere.”

“I know. But I need that body to get myself out of the hole I’m in. I let everyone in my hometown believe I was dead. They buried me and my family, and mourned over all of us, and I sat there in the church and watched, pretending to be Susan.”

There was a long silence, then Meredith launched yet another idea. “You do know you have to write about this, don’t you? Talk about built-in promotion! You can call it something like…like… I know! Lazarus Rising.”

“Lazarus was a man.”

“I know that,” Meredith said. “It’s just an analogy. Never mind. It doesn’t matter what you title it. You just make sure you live through this crazy mess to write it.”

“I have every intention of doing that,” Cari said. “And don’t worry. Mike has already alerted his security chief. I won’t be on my own.”

Meredith’s voice rose. “Who’s Mike?”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention…Susan’s boss has become a sort of…knight in shining armor for me. He rescued me from the hospital, and I’m staying at his estate until we sort everything out. In fact, we’re leaving tomorrow for Bordelaise, and we’ll be staying on my property in his motor home until we find out what Lance did with the dead man.”

“Oh my God…I am in heaven,” Meredith said. “Not only are you alive, but you finally have a man in your life again.”

Cari smiled to herself, although she had to admit, thinking about Mike as the “man in her life” wasn’t a bad thing.

“One thing at a time. One thing at a time. Now…I’ve got to go. Just remember, I need you to keep this under wraps until I’m safe.”

“I know. Mum’s the word.”

“Good. So…I’ll be in touch,” Cari said.

“Absolutely,” Meredith said. “And, honey…I’m so sorry about your family, but so happy you called. You can trust me to keep your secret.”

Cari’s smile slipped. “I know,” she said softly.

“Take care. Love you,” Meredith said.