Mississippi Blues (13 page)

“Good. The Chief's organizing a manhunt. If you do know something, you better tell Jody. Jace might get hurt.” Lilah's eyes filled with compassion. “Better prison than dead.”

“Where'd Trey go?”

Lilah made an uncertain motion with her hands.

“I'll see you in the morning.”

Not sure of her destination, Summer left the shop.

She spotted Trey's car at the little convenience store on the corner across from Miller's Feed. He came out of the store carrying a giant-sized coke and a paper bag. Wearing a simple gray T-shirt, Levi's, and Nikes he looked good, really good. She couldn't look away from him. As he came alongside, he noticed her. “Summer. What're you doing here?”

She said the first thing that came to mind. “I need to talk to you. It might be important.”

“I'm kinda in a hurry. I'm still looking for Lindy.” He hid his expression behind a pair of sunglasses marked Serengetti on the corner of the lenses. Expensive.

“Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about.” She looked around. “But not here.”

He motioned toward his car. “Jump in. Ride with me and tell me about it.”

She hesitated a fraction of a second. What the heck? There were worse things than going for a short ride with Trey. She ignored the tiny flutters in her stomach. This was just a chance to ask about the Chief's plans, nothing more. “Okay. Let me pull around the side of the building and park out of the way.”

When she jumped out of her own car, he stood beside the passenger side of the Mustang, holding the door open. With a quick glance around to see that no one saw her, she climbed in and he closed the door behind her. Trey came round and got in. Johnny Lang blared out of the radio. Trey's voice was deeper and raspier than the singer's. With a smile, he turned the sound low. “Sorry.”

“I like that CD,” she said, to cover her sudden confusion.

“You know it? All the guys back in Kabul listened to it.”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. Her mind raced, trying to find a way to ask her questions. “We have it at the shop.”

“I figured you more for a country music listener.” He checked traffic and pulled out on the street heading out of town. “That's what you used to like. Reba, Garth, Vince.”

“I love country,” she said, “but I also like blues, old rock, a little pop.”

“Did you find me to talk about music?” He glanced at her. “Although I like the subject well enough, I find it a bit odd that you told me to get lost, then look me up to discuss the merits of blues over rock. So what is it you really want?”

A little taken aback at his tone, Summer said, “I could care less what kind of music you like. It's not really important to me what you think of what I listen to on the radio. What I wanted to talk about has nothing to do with either. This is about Lindy. Kind of.”

“What about her?” He shot a piercing look at her. “Did you hear from Jace?”

“No.” Summer glanced out the window. They had left Juliet behind, entered the forest. A canopy of moss-covered oaks shaded the highway. During the day the road was dim, during the night it was frightening, stuff of
Sleepy Hollow
legend. She shivered a bit. Maybe the shadows would hide her face enough that he couldn't tell she was lying. “Nothing from Jace. I heard the Chief is going to send all his men on a manhunt. Is it true?”

“Is that what you had to ask me?” He sucked Coke through his straw.

“Yes,” she admitted. “I knew you'd tell me the truth. There's no one else to ask … ”

“And when you know the details will you contact Jace and warn him?” His gaze was sharp. And penetrating.

She took a deep breath. “I told you, I don't know where Jace is. But, yes, if I did I'd urge him to run away.”

He didn't answer. “What does this have to do with Lindy?”

“That's just it. You tell me.” Summer picked at her peeling manicure.

For a long moment, he didn't answer, Johnny Lang's words filling the car. “It's true. The Chief called for a full-scale search about an hour ago. We have substantial reason to believe Jace has Lindy.”

“What?” Her head spun. “Are you insane?”

“It's true. I couldn't buy it either at first. But he's been writing threatening letters from prison. The coincidence is too great to ignore. He's out, she's missing.” He sounded sad.

“I don't believe you.” Summer stared straight ahead. If she as much as glanced his direction she would either punch him or burst into tears. She knew he hated Jace, but she hadn't known how much. Until now.

“I can hardly take it in myself, but I saw the letters with my own eyes.” He wasn't lying. In her heart and in her gut she knew it. She'd seen how much her brother had changed with her own eyes. “Where are we going?” Dread filled her. If the posse found Jace and he didn't turn himself in, they'd shoot. She moaned.

“I'm trying to find Lindy before anyone else does. A woman named Carlene lives out here. Her daughter pals around with Lindy. Someone told me they live out here on the river. I have a general idea of the location, but not exact.” He sounded as grim as she felt.

A tiny flicker of hope lit. Maybe they could stop the massacre she felt certain was coming. “Will they tell you anything?”

“I'm going to persuade them it would be in their best interest to fill me in.”

She stole a glance at him. Noting his perfect profile, she thought most women would tell him anything he asked with minimum effort on his part. She amended her question. “With me along?”

“I don't know. Guess there's only one way to find out.” He glanced at her, his gaze intense. “Lives are counting on it.”

“I'll stay out of sight.” She'd do anything to ensure her brother's safety.

“No. You're coming with me.” He turned on a dirt road that led deep into the woods. Rough, deep ruts made driving nearly impossible. Pulling under a large pine tree, he turned off the car. “Guess we'll have to walk from here. I don't want to tear up my shocks.”

“How far do you think we'll have to go?” She glanced around and shivered.

“I'm not sure. The river can't be far from here.” He appraised her outfit, a plain white T-shirt, short jean skirt and thick-soled tennies. “I have some bug spray in the trunk. You'd better cover yourself with it.”

Together, they got out and he locked the car. Then he opened the trunk and retrieved the promised spray. He held it up and said, “Turn around. I'll get your back.”

Doing as he asked, Summer turned away, holding her hair up on her head.

• • •

Trey's gaze locked on her long, slender neck. He wondered what she'd do if instead of spraying her with the cold, sticky mist she expected, he touched her there with the tip of his tongue. Probably slap his face.

“Are you going to spray me or not?” she asked impatiently.

“Yeah.” To his own ears, his voice sounded rough. He lifted the bottle. Just as his finger depressed the button, a blast rocked the air around them. He grabbed Summer around the waist and jerked her to the ground shielding her body with his.

As the sound died away, he looked around. A woman, wearing a man's fedora, with a shotgun in her hands stepped into the clearing.

“Who are you? And what the hell are you doing shooting that thing?” Trey's voice vibrated with anger. She seemed familiar, but he couldn't place her. Too worried, he didn't dwell on it.

“A better question is who are you and what're you doin' on my property?” The woman came closer and spat on the ground. “Never mind. I see what you're up to. If you want to screw, do it on your own time.”

Trey rolled off Summer, stood, and helped her to her feet.

Summer, brushing off her clothes, hissed like an indignant kitten. “We were doing no such thing.”

Trey took her hand and gave it a warning squeeze. “We actually came out here looking for someone. Do you know Carlene Carter?”

“Maybe.” The woman gave his crotch a lewd stare and licked her full lips. “From the looks of what you're packing, I'd be glad to take care of you. If you're looking for a threesome, that could be arranged too. I help lots of young men fulfill their potential.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Trey saw Summer's cheeks go bright red. He spoke before she lost her temper. “Thanks, but I just need to ask some questions. Are you Carlene?”

The woman settled on a large stump and lowered her gun. Her fedora tipped back on her head and a mass of curly red mane fell around a pretty face. She wore little makeup and fewer clothes. One strap of her silky, lime green negligee fell off her shoulder exposing most of a freckled breast. She made no move to pull up the offending strap. “Yep, but I ain't much for talkin'. What do you want to know? Prices vary dependin' on what ya want. The nastier ya get, the pricier I get. But if your girl just wanted to watch … ”

Summer made a disgusted noise beside him.

He ignored the comment about money, hoping Carlene would tell him something if she thought he wanted more than information. Although Summer kind of foiled his plan. “I'm looking for a girl. Your daughter, I think. Candy?”

“What do you want with my kid? She's a bit young yet for anything kinky. Plus, I know a hell of a lot more than she does.” Carlene fiddled with the low neckline of the negligee, pulling it even lower exposing a large, dark brown nipple.

“That's disgusting,” Summer muttered.

Trey squeezed her hand, warning her. He tensed, but kept his tone level. “I think my sister's in danger. Your daughter might know something that can help me.”

Carlene waved her hand in a dismissive gesture, and made no move to cover herself. “Naw. Candy don't know nothin'.”

He smiled at her. “Would you allow me to ask for myself?”

“You a narc?” She looked ready to jump and run like a deer.

“No. I'm Trey Bouché.” Although he hated using his name to gain access, he knew his dad was aware of the river women and their camp. He left them alone as long as they kept a low profile and minded their own business.

“Chief Sam's kid? Hells bells. Never thought your daddy would let you and me come face-to-face. He's okay. Leaves us in peace anyway.” Carlene stood up and motioned for them to follow her. She finally pulled her top over her bare breast. “All right. C'mon.”

“This is crazy,” Summer muttered as they trailed behind Carlene through the forest.

After several minutes of winding through the dense stand of trees, they came upon a row of small shacks on stilts partially submerged in the edge of the slow-moving river. A cluster of shanties sat together in a line along the banks. Carlene stopped and faced them. “Wait here. I'll send Candy out.”

While they waited, Trey looked around. Summer studied the ground as if she wished it would swallow her whole. Like every red-blooded male in Juliet, Trey knew of the mysterious women who lived here. At present, none were in sight. All the huts seemed to be well maintained, none of the outsides were messy. A brightly colored quilt hung over the edge of one railing. Behind another, a clothesline held satiny underthings. A primitive village with no electricity or running water, the little town had a certain charm.

Like every boy over the edge of ten in Juliet, he'd heard the rumors, the stories, and the legends about the women here who made their living by selling sex. His senior year he'd passed on the annual tradition of spending the last night of school with one of them. He hadn't wanted anything to do with the sleazy ritual.

Maybe because he was the Chief's son, he knew the women made money the only way they knew how, that they survived the best they could — on their backs. Even then, he hadn't wanted to be part of it.

He was a normal all-American boy and he'd wanted sex as bad as the next guy, but the only woman he'd ever wanted stood beside him. From the time he figured out what sex was all about, she was the girl he dreamed about. No other girl ever caught and held his imagination the way she did.

A bottle blonde came out of one of the shacks when Carlene called for Candy. “She ain't here. She went to town.”

“When?” Carlene stared at the other woman until she fidgeted.

“'Bout an hour or so ago.”

“What for?”

The blonde shrugged. “Beats me. I ain't her keeper. Seems to me that's your job.”

Carlene glared at her. “Watch your mouth, Drea.”

Drea dropped her head and slipped back inside her cabin. Carlene glanced at them. “You heard her. I don't know where that kid of mine goes or what she does. I try to get her to do right, go to school, but she has a mind of her own. The way she's headed, she's going to end up right here like the rest of us.”

“If you hear from her, could you have her come see me? Please?” Trey reached out and touched her arm. “It's important.”

“Yeah, okay.” Carlene nodded. “I'll try.” She hesitated. “Go see Jimmy Ray Hunt.”

“Thanks.” Trey took Summer's hand and led her away.

Summer wanted nothing more than to go home and forget the whole dismal afternoon. She was sorry she had asked Trey to tell her the Chief's plans, she was sorry she had seen Shantytown with her own eyes and she was sorry Carlene had come along when she did and stopped Trey from kissing her. Summer had known he was going to try and she longed for him to try. In spite of everything, she wished he would kiss her until she couldn't think straight. Nobody affected her like Trey Bouché with his husky voice and handsome face and easy words.

No one ever had.

No one ever would.

“I need to get back to my car, please.” She averted her face so he couldn't see the regret there. “This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come with you.”

“Why did you?”

“I wanted to tell find out what your father has planned.” She kept her gaze firmly out the side window.