Revenge (22 page)

“Cody?”

She lifted her gaze to meet Kim's.

Her best friend placed her hands on Cody's thighs and rubbed them. “It's not over.”

“What's the point? These people keep throwing up roadblocks.”

“When did that ever stop you?”

Was this the same woman who, just yesterday, had blown off Cody for being too bossy?

“Really, you're going to come this far and throw in the towel? That's not the Cody who stormed out of our apartment a week ago planning to drag that Cajun's sorry carcass home.” Kim squeezed Cody's thighs, her fingernails digging into the denim. “Remy left here alive. Hurt, but alive. We've got time.”

“She's right.” Victoria inched closer to them.

“You were knocked out cold, what would you know?” Cody didn't feel like being charitable to this “friend” at the moment.

“I know men like Alphonse. They like their prey to squirm before they kill them. His man wouldn't have gone to the trouble to drag Remy out of here if they wanted him dead.”

“How is it you know what they're like,” Cody pushed off the step, stepped around Kim, and moved to stand face to face with Victoria, “but you can't tell us who Alphonse really is?”

“I never heard his name until LeBeau asked about him. This is New Orleans. When someone doesn't want you to know something, they know how to keep it buried. By killing.”

“That sort of thing happens everywhere,” Heath said.

Victoria's head jerked his way. “You the boy-toy I heard mentioned?”

Cody nearly choked on her spit. Why would Remy call him that? Heat crept into her face as the meaning sank in. Had Remy seen her and Heath together?

Nonchalantly, like he'd heard people call him that a thousand times, Heath leaned against the staircase banister. “I'm LeBeau's partner.”

“Wonderful, another cop. Gotta name?”

“His name is Heath.” Kim elbowed around Cody. “Heath Anderson.”

Eyebrows lifting, Victoria tilted her chin up and peered at Kim. Cody inched back, letting the two women—sisters—face off.

Silence permeated the air, broken by a rumble of thunder and the air-conditioning unit clicking off. Cody swallowed, her aching muscles remembering how Victoria had slammed her into the wall. She'd never seen Kim defend herself, having been the pacifist in Cody's circle of friends. Still, there was a hardness around Kim's jaw and eyes that hadn't been there before.

Victoria crossed her arms, her chest rising as she thrust her shoulders back. “What's this shit about you being my sister?”

“My birth mother gave me up for adoption. I think she was your mother, because . . . we look exactly alike.”

“You do look like my mother. Could've been her twin except for your eye color.” Victoria frowned. “Where have I seen it before?”

“You didn't know about me?” The stiffness in Kim's shoulders seemed to melt away.

Cody resisted the urge to reach out and comfort her friend.

“Sorry, no.” Victoria's arms slid to her sides. “Whatever happened to
Maman
to make her hide your existence must have been bad. Because Papa loved her fiercely, and he loved my brother and me, he wouldn't have stood for her putting one of their children up for adoption.”

“Could it be possible your father killed your mother and himself after he learned what she did?” Heath asked.

“Hell, no!” Red streaked Victoria's face. “I know who killed them now. The bastard confessed.” Her gaze swung to Cody. “So, you're the one who's been tearing LeBeau inside out. Damn, girl, you've got your hooks in that man.”

“I ain't a girl.”

“No, no, you ain't. Especially if you busted up Jared Savard good and lived to tell about it. I think that's the first time I'd seen him a little afraid of a woman.”

“Was it Jared Savard who killed your parents?” Cody asked.

“Under orders from
Alphonse
.”

“Who is this Alphonse guy?” Heath asked.

Victoria shrugged. “LeBeau and I were trying to figure that out before the fake delivery guy showed up and bashed me over the head. We got as far as thinking it was a lawyer—” Suddenly she grabbed Kim's shoulder's and yanked her close.

Kim jerked at the rough treatment and leaned back. Cody moved to stop any further mishandling, but pulled up when Victoria leaned in to peer at Kim's eyes.

“
Sainte Mère
. I know whose eyes look like yours.” She grasped Kim's chin and tilted it up. “I've seen them every time I've had contact with the man. Those are Dumond's eyes.”

A spasm seized Cody. “Dumond? As in Paul Dumond?”

Victoria turned to her. “LeBeau's
beau-père
.”

• • •

Frigid wetness on his face stung Remy into consciousness. He sputtered and spit iron-tinged water from his mouth. Slowly, awareness seeped into his brain. Fire seared his shoulder and the back of his head. He tried to move his arms and found them immobile. He blinked his eyes open; the first thing to assault his vision was the littered cement floor of a dim room and his bloodstained jeans. As his vision adjusted, he found himself shirtless and seated in a chair, strapped down. The gritty floor registered against his bare feet.

He lifted his head and peered at the man standing in front of him. The white bandage on the hand Remy had stabbed was a stark contrast to his dark clothing and even darker features.

“Welcome to hell, LeBeau.”

He expected fear to consume him. Instead it was anger—anger for letting his guard down enough to get caught. Anger that he never got the chance to see Cody one more time before they killed him.

Remy leaned into the restraints. “Get it over with.”

“Not until the boss gets here. He has plans for you.”

“Thought your boss liked his messes dealt with quickly. Isn't that why he hires guys like Savard?”

Bending over, his captor smirked. “You're a special case. Since Savard failed to kill you the last time, the boss wants to make sure he sees it done properly.”

“Didn't think Alphonse cared so much.”

The man struck like a water moccasin. Remy didn't see the fist, just felt the burn where he'd been hit as his head wrenched to the side. Blood pooled in his mouth. He spit out the iron-laced spittle.

“You aren't allowed to speak his name.” His captor grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked Remy's head up. “Keep that in mind when he gets here.”

“Go screw yourself.”

The man released Remy's head with a hard flick. Pricks of pain shot up the back of his neck.

“You know what, LeBeau, I'll pass on screwing myself. Maybe I'll go nab that redhead of yours and show her what a real man can do.”

Fire ripped through his veins. “No!” he roared. “Touch her and you die.”

“Who's going to stop me? You?” The man scoffed. “Try doing that from a grave.” He walked to a door, paused, and looked over his shoulder. “Sit tight. I've got business to take care of.” He flung open the door and exited, laughing.

The fight leaked from Remy. He sagged in the restrains as he bowed his head, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat. All his efforts to protect Cody from this hell were smashed when she'd defied him and entered New Orleans.

Now he was facing his final moments with the realization she'd end up like Marie.

Raped, tortured, and then murdered.

He was helpless to stop it.

“Let me get this straight. You think Remy's ex-father-in-law is Kim's biological father?” Cody ceased her pacing. “Just because their eyes are the same color?”

“Paul Dumond makes the most logical sense,” Vic—as she preferred to be called—said. “I've only seen that exact shade in him.”

“How does this help us find Remy?”

“Cody's got a point.” Heath stepped off the last stair. He'd gone to Remy's room to look for anything he might have left behind to clue them in to his whereabouts or who took him. Apparently, he was empty-handed.

Unwilling to touch his things or catch a whiff of his scent for fear of breaking down, Cody had remained on the first floor. A thread of panic now escaped the mental box where Cody tried to hide the fear inside. Every minute they wasted chasing rabbit trails brought Remy's captor closer to ending his life.

“Other than Jared and myself, only one other person knew Remy was still alive,” Vic explained as she removed her bloodied shirt down to the black tank top she wore. “Dumond set up the fake death notice and funeral and shipped Remy out of here the night before Katrina hit. If he found out Remy was back in the city, he'd be furious.”

“I still don't get the connection between Kim, Paul Dumond, and Alphonse.” Cody managed to hook Vic's elbow as she passed and bring her to a stop. “Slow down and talk to us non-cops in plain terms.”

Vic glanced at Heath, then huffed and shook free of Cody's arm. “Fine. I'm not a hundred percent sure I'm right about Dumond being Kim's father. The more I think about it, the more I see him in her. Just don't know why Remy didn't see it.”

Huddled in a corner, gnawing on her thumbnail, Kim stared at them. The color had drained from her face, making her bright blue eyes seem to pop out of her head. Cody wished her friend would talk. The moment Vic blurted out who she believed was Kim's father, Kim detached from them. She'd avoided Heath's touch like he carried anthrax.

“As for the Dumond and Alphonse connection, Paul secretly got Remy out of the city to prevent another attempt on his life. They all knew it was Jared who tried to kill Remy and took Marie. No one knew who pulled the strings. Getting Remy out prevented any further problems.” Vic rammed her fingers through her tangled hair. “If Paul discovered Remy was back—all that work down the drain—he'd be forced to nab him. Since Remy just learned that you” she looked right at Cody, “were here, there's no way he'd go easily.”

“I thought you said it was Alphonse who took him?” Cody's head hurt from Vic's disjointed thoughts.

“I don't know. I'm beginning to think this Alphonse is some made-up bullshit to throw us off track. It'd be like Jared and others like him to do something like that.”

“Maybe we should pay Dumond a visit and see what he knows,” Heath said.

The front door opened, making them all turn. Luc entered and closed the door with a soft click.

“Learned jack-squat, didn't you?” Vic asked.

“Actually,” Luc gave them a Cheshire grin, “I learned a lot. Did you know fifteen years ago an inmate in Orleans Parish Prison was said to have told a guard about a man called Alphonse who could make them both rich? Two days later the inmate was shanked, and the guard was found dead in his home.”

“How did—” Vic was apparently too astonished to finish her question.

“My methods are my own. That popped up because more than six years ago an overzealous assistant DA started looking into those deaths on the behalf of the guard's family. What he learned ended up getting him a bullet to his brain.”

“Humbert,” Vic and Heath said as one.

“That explains why Humbert was killed. He learned about Alphonse.” Vic frowned and shook her head. “It doesn't explain why Paul Dumond hid Humbert's file in his office.”

“Did Paul have a stake in that investigation?” Heath asked.

“He's the freaking DA, and it was an election year.” Vic's face paled. She eyed Luc. “How did you know to look for that info?”

“I plead the fifth.”

The bit of panic Cody felt a moment ago was replaced by hot lava. “Damn it to hell.”

Four pairs of startled eyes shot her way.

“I just
love
how everyone knows everything that's going on around here, but me. When do I get included in with this search and rescue? I'm the one who came after Remy, remember? Ya'll just tagged along.”

“And if we had included you, what would you have done?” Luc asked.

She stalked across the floor and poked a finger in his chest. “Not wasted three days searching a damn street full of drunks. So, while we've been standing around here hashing out the bits and pieces of this blasted four-ring circus, the person who has my man is closer to putting an end to his life.”

“Wait.”

Cody spun on Vic. “What?”

“Say I'm right about Paul taking Remy.” Vic marched into another room. “He'd have a damn good reason to do it.”

The faint drone of voices reached everyone waiting in the entryway. Curious, Cody headed into the room. Slowly, the rest followed her.

Vic had turned on the TV to a station broadcasting a press meeting. On a platform behind a podium with the official seal of the city of New Orleans stood an elegant man with graying hair in a dark blue suit. Flanking him on the left side appeared to be the New Orleans police commissioner and on the right the chief, both wearing their decorated dress uniforms.
DA Dumond speaks about his police corruption investigation and the body left on his family crypt
scrolled at the bottom of the screen.

“Dumond's at a press conference right now.” Vic looked over her shoulder. “If he has anything to do with Remy's kidnapping, it'll wait until he's done.”

“How long will it take us to get down there?” Heath asked.

“Fifteen, twenty minutes.” Vic turned off the TV. “He just got started, and he's a show horse, so he'll stand there taking questions for about a half hour.”

“If you're wrong about him taking Remy . . . ” All eyes turned to Cody, yet she hesitated; saying the words might make them true. “Then you've just killed him.”

“No, this thing might be a lot more connected than we know,” Vic said. “They want him alive.”

Cody pinched the bridge of her nose. The headache from information overload exploded behind her eyes. “Next you'll be telling us you think Paul Dumond and Alphonse are one and the same.”