Fat Tuesday (44 page)

"I'd better go supervise the transport of Mac's body and clear up the paperwork with the parish officials. Soon as I get the ambulance underway, I'll come back for Basile."

"What about Duvall's wife?"

"That's the first thing I'm going to ask Basile about when he comes around. The lady must be taken home immediately."

Burke waited until Pat's footsteps could no longer be heard then opened his eyes. As he'd already guessed, he confirmed that he was lying on a sofa in Dredd's main room.

"How long you been awake?" Dredd asked in a whisper. He wasn't facing Burke at all, but was standing at a window, calmly smoking, and watching the commotion outside through the cloudy glass. Burke wondered, not for the first time, if the traiteur was indeed a warlock with supernatural powers. Beyond his healing abilities, did he have eyes in the back of his head?

"Long enough to overhear Pat's recap of the situation."

"Was it like he said?"

"Exactly. I reached the cabin a few minutes before Mccuen got there and hid my boat in the saw grass. When he and I came face to face, he admitted to striking a deal with Duvall. He thought we could negotiate with him and work it all out."

"Fuck that."

"My reaction exactly. Mac's future was at stake, so he wouldn't take my no for an answer. He went for his gun. Pat had him under surveillance and had followed him there. He must have had a bead on him.

The bullet went straight through his back to his heart. Now Pat's hell-bent on playing the rest out by the book."

"He's only half your problem. Duvall is pulling out all the stops.

He's after you, son."

While appearing to do nothing except watch the loading of Mac's body into the ambulance, Dredd told Burke about Gregory's coming to the store and warning him of the gunmen who'd accompanied him.

"So what you told Pat about the two phony fishermen was true."

"Most of it," Dredd said."They were here, but they didn't leave."

The words had an ominous ring that halted any further questioning.

Burke thought he was better off not knowing the fate of the two men.

"What about Gregory?"

"There's hope for the boy. He could've screwed us over good, but he came through. I told him to hightail it, and he took my advice."

"Good." He pulled against the handcuffs."Get me out of these damn things."

Dredd turned away from the window."The body is loaded and Pat is conferring with the sheriff. We've got maybe ninety seconds to get you away from here."

"Where's my gun?"

"Pat's got it. But you can borrow one of mine."

Dredd took a Magnum.357 from a drawer, checked to see that all the chambers were loaded, scooped up a box of bullets, then assisted Burke to his feet. His legs were wobbly and his head felt like a watermelon precariously balanced on his shoulders as he followed Dredd through the misshapen assortment of rooms and out a back door.

In a toolshed, which seemed to contain every implement invented since the Iron Age, Dredd located a pair of bolt cutters and snipped off the handcuffs. He gave Burke the pistol and the bullets, then pulled a boat from beneath the pier.

"You're using up my boats like a horny kid with a box of rubbers.

At the rate you're disposing of them, I'll soon be out of business."

"I'll make it up to you, Dredd."

"Yeah, yeah, just try and not get yourself killed before you do.

The boat's gassed up, but don't start the motor until you've gone at least half a mile. You up to rowing that far?"

"I've got no choice. Remy's out there alone."

"Basile? You like that girl?" The two men exchanged a long look, but all Burke said was, "Thanks again, Dredd."

"Don't mention it. Good luck and ... oh, shit. I hate this part."

Burke slammed his fist into Dredd's chin, and even his bushy beard couldn't cushion the blow. Then as he fell backward, Burke clouted him once more on the side of the head, regrettably having to make it look like he'd overpowered him. However, he didn't hit him hard enough to cause the older man too much residual pain.

Then he jumped into the boat and pushed away from the pier.

As he reached for the oar, a shout went up and he heard running footsteps.

To hell with rowing, he started the outboard and gunned it.

As early as noon, Remy began watching for him. She had even held off eating lunch in anticipation of his being hungry when he got back and of them eating together. But noon came and went with no sign of him.

During the long afternoon, she ventured outside and tried to enjoy the first sunny day she had experienced in the swamp, but she couldn't totally relax and take in its exotic beauty because her mind was preoccupied with Basile and what could be keeping him away so long.

Sunset increased her anxiety. Like a sentinel at his post, she paced every inch of the pier. She listened to catch the sound of the trolling motor above night sounds of the swamp, which originally had frightened her, but which she now found familiar and somewhat comforting.

When dusk gave way to night, she went back inside. For added safety, she didn't light the lantern, so her vigil was continued in complete darkness. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, but she wasn't hungry.

What had happened when Basile returned to Dredd's Mercantile?

What if, somewhere along the way, he'd been ambushed by the three men who'd come to the shack last night, ostensibly searching for Father Gregory?

What if Pinkie had men waiting to attack him when he returned to Dredd's?

What if he and Dredd had been killed and no one knew where she was?

The grim possibilities marched relentlessly through her mind. Finally exhaustion forced her to lie down and close her eyes. In her turbulent state of mind, she had thought sleep was impossible, so when she was abruptly awakened, her first reaction was surprise that she'd fallen asleep Her second reaction was to wonder what had awakened her. As when she had been awakened by Angel and one of her countless men, Remy lay perfectly still, heart pounding.

What had startled her out of sleep? A sound? A menacing movement in the darkness? A premonition of danger?

She strained to hear a sound, but there was nothing. Had she been awakened by the vibration of a boat bumping into one of the pilings supporting the pier?

Was she just going to lie here and pretend to be invisible as she had in her corner of Angel's sordid world? She was no longer a child.

She had declared to Basile that she would never be a victim again.

What or who could be more threatening than the man she'd lived with for twelve years? She had withstood Pinkie's cruel psychological abuse, she could withstand anything.

Slipping out of bed, she crept across the room and located a kitchen knife. It was dull, but it was the closest thing she had to a weapon since Basile had taken his pistol. As an afterthought, she also grabbed the lantern and a matchbook, then she moved to the nearest window and peeped out.

She saw a form, nothing more than a darker shadow among shadows, tiptoeing along the pier. Once, he paused as though listening, then continued moving silently toward the shack.

Remy sank to the floor and gripped the knife. She wondered exactly how one went about using a Coleman lantern as a weapon.

When the door's rusty hinges creaked, the intruder hesitated before pulling it open only wide enough for him to slip inside. He eased it closed behind him.

"Remy?"

Her heart nearly burst with relief."Burke?"

She shot to her feet and ran toward him, but drew up short when she saw the gun in his hand.

Burke was so relieved to see her unharmed, he was on the verge of grabbing her and clutching her to him when he spotted a knife in one hand and the lantern in the other.

He hadn't used the boat motor for the last mile or so, knowing how far sound carries over water. He hadn't wanted to lead the people looking for him into this hidden slough. Struggling like hell to get back, it hadn't occurred to him that Remy herself might pose a threat But the knife clattered to the floor and she set the lantern and a book of matches on the table. He engaged the safety on the pistol and set it beside the lantern. Then they faced each other. He spoke first."Are you all right?" She nodded vigorously."Frightened."

"Of what?"

"I didn't know who you were at first."

"I was afraid you might not be here."

"Where would I go? Why were you sneaking up "

"To avoid being captured."

"Captured?"

"There's a manhunt on for me."

"Why?"

"It's a long story."

"You're sweating."

"I've been rowing."

"Oh." Again they just stood there looking at each other across the darkness. Then she said, "You were away so long."

"I know. I'm sorry. I couldn't get back."

"It's okay, I just "

"It couldn't be helped. If "

"What happened?"

"Did anyone come here?"

"No."

"Have you seen anyone?"

"Not all day. I've been frantic."

"With fear?" Worry."

"Worry?"

"That something had happened to you." The space separating them narrowed. Later, he didn't recall con Her lips moving against his skin, she said, "I was afraid you wouldn't come back for me."

"Nothing could have stopped me from coming back."

"I didn't know."

"You knew, Remy."

"How was I to know?"

"Because I promised you I would."

With that, his lips searched blindly for hers. He kissed her hard, crushing her mouth first at one angle, then another, and yet another.

He was awkward, clumsy even. But ravenous men eat gracelessly.

He kissed her hungrily, not with finesse. Tasting her for the first time, a low moan rose out of his chest, partially from gratification, partially from heightened want.

Eventually, he pulled back, pushed his fingers through her hair, tilted her head back and looked down into her face to see if he had mistaken her response. But in her expression he read the same wonder and confusion he was feeling.

Shyly, she reached up and touched his mouth with her fingertips.

Burke closed his eyes and swayed toward her. He dipped his knees slightly, fitting himself into the notch of her thighs.

His hands moved to her hips and held her firmly against him. Her hand, now resting lightly on his hair, guided his head down to her and they kissed again with more passion and less restraint than before.

He stumbled backward toward the bed, dragging her with him, until the backs of his legs touched the mattress. He sat down, spread his knees, and pulled her between them. Impatiently he peeled the sweatshirt over her head. The sweatpants were pushed to the floor for her to step out of. First his eyes, then his hands moved over her shoulders, breasts, waist, hips, thighs touching as much of her as he could as quickly as he could.

Then he rested his hot cheek against her belly, and her arms enfolded his head.

He caressed the backs of her calves and thighs. He squeezed her ass.

He kissed her V through her panties, then nuzzled her with chin and nose and brow in a rubbing motion that felt like loving.

He placed her on the bed, stretched out beside her, and slipped his arm around her unconsciously reaching for her. He didn't remember placing his hand inside the front of her underpants. Springy hair curled around around her. It happened without forethought. One second he washis fingers.

He parted the swollen lips. The center of her sex was longing to hold her, and the next he was. very wet. He sent his fingers deep, then withdrew them and used the He clutched her tightly. She felt incredibly small and soft against the ball of his middle finger to lightly massage that most sensitive spot.

him. He buried his face in her neck beneath her hair. His hand cupped j Her soft gasping of his name he took as permission. Within sec her head and pressed her face against his throat. onds, his jeans were open, and he was positioned above her. When ... .

he entered her, he almost sobbed from the pleasure of it. He didn't want it to be rushed, but the sensations were so intense, so long anticipated and frequently fantasized, that they overtook him, and he could no longer hold back.

The climax passed too quickly. He raised his head, an apology on his lips. But her features were soft and slack. Beads of sweat dotted her upper lip, her eyes were closed. Beneath him, her chest rose and fell.

Her nipples were tight. He feathered them with his thumb. He felt her belly quicken against his an instant before she caught her lower lip between her teeth.

He rocked forward slightly and stayed inside her to share each rippling, pulsing pressure. When it subsided, he rolled to his side and drew her close to him, pressing her head to his chest and stroking her back. They lay like that for a long time, and he could have stayed that way forever. But he felt compelled to say something.

"I know how religious you are. You probably regard adultery as a mortal sin. So, you can say I forced you if you want to. Just ...

just don't feel bad about it, okay, Remy? I don't want you to feel bad about this.

About me."

She worked her head free so that she could look into his face. She laid her palm against his cheek and searched his eyes."You don't have to worry about that. I'm not really married."

From the window of his office, Pinkie watched the revelers on the street below. The Orpheus parade was over, but the crowds were still out in full force, sinning with a vengeance before the start of Lent, almost twenty-four hours away.

Hearing the door open and close behind him, he turned. Bardo slunk in, looking uncharacteristically subdued."My men won't go near the place.

Said it's still crawling with heat in all its forms. Cops, sheriff's deputies, state police, coroner. You name it."

"It's been confirmed that Mccuen is dead?"

"As a doornail. Story is, Pat whacked him to protect Basile."

"What about Basile?" Pinkie asked.

"You aren't gonna believe it. Pat had him in custody, but he got away."

Duvall swore viciously.