A Christmas Kiss (25 page)

"When we get to Lafayette, can I ask those two guys some questions?" Aaron was tired, but the idea of wringing some facts from the two captives was more enticing than sleep.

"Not officially."

"That's exactly my point. Officially, I'm afraid you can't ask them forcefully enough. I, on the other hand, as a regular citizen, can ask in a way that they'll know I want the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

Joey looked at Aaron's bulging arm muscles. "I can't condone acts of violence against prisoners."

"You don't have to condone anything. You just have to step out of the room. I want them to tell me who sent them.''

Joey smiled. "That's exactly what I intend to find out. And about Kit and Bailey."

"That, too," Aaron agreed. They could see the cabin in the distance, and they increased their pace.

"We need to restock the cabin and season some more wood. After Cori testifies, I think you should bring her back here. You know, just the two of you, for a few days."

"I'll leave the restocking to you. I may not be back for a while." Joey, in fact, had no idea if he'd have a job once he got back to New Orleans. He hadn't exactly been a model employee. They walked out on the dock, their footsteps giving a haunted echo on the rain-soaked wood. Deputies from two parishes were standing in a small group at the boat, waiting. "When they radioed the information about Laurette, did they say anything about Cori?"

"Naw." Aaron picked up the two bags that someone had packed. In it were Joey's things, as well as Cori's and what Laurette had brought for herself. "Those men may tell you something, but they won't talk to me."

The deputy who held the tie line pointed at Joey as they walked up. "Hey, Applewhite just radioed in. They want you in New Orleans as soon as you can get there." He held the boat steady as Joey and Aaron got on. "They said it was urgent."

"Urgent?" What could be urgent now? "I need to question those two guys you took into custody."

The deputy shrugged one shoulder. "It's your butt, Tio. Applewhite didn't sound really happy."

"He's never happy." Joey felt an unexplainable sense of dread. "Did he say what was wrong?"

"He said that female witness you had out here had escaped from custody." The deputy couldn't deny himself a dig at the federal agents. "She must be a regular Houdini. Seems you boys can't keep her in custody longer than an hour or two."

"Escaped?" The very word made Joey angry. "Escaped from what?"

"They took her into custody as a material witness. When they were transporting her to the safe house, she jumped out of the car."

"She's somewhere in New Orleans, without protection?"

"That's what the man said."

Joey signaled to the officer in the rear to start the motor. "Let's get out of here," he said.

"I'll see to Laurette," Aaron told him. "You go after Cori." His brow was furrowed. "Why would she run away, Joey? Those men who want to kill her are still out there."

"I don't know why Cori would do that. Not yet. But I'm going to find her and find out."

The powerful boat cruised through the narrow canals and finally into a broader waterway. When at last land was in sight, Joey stood, ready to jump on the dock and steady the boat for the others to get off. He turned to the deputy. "Make sure those two men are charged with attempted murder. Ask your sheriff to hold them without bail, if he can. Once bail is set they'll never be seen again. I'll be back to question them when I can."

"We'll do what we can." The deputy waved down at the boat. "And we'll send a bill for all of this.

You federal cops have a lot bigger budget than us locals do."

Joey didn't bother to respond. He dug his keys out of his pocket and ran to his car. It was close to three hours to New Orleans. How fast could he make it? And would he be in time to save Cori?

Cori instinctively headed for the areas of the Quarter where the tourists flocked. She could blend in more easily there, maybe find someone she knew. But could she embroil another innocent person in what was a fight for her life? The idea of calling her sister seemed wonderfully appealing, but Lane was more than a thousand miles away, in New York City. There was nothing her big sister could do now to help her. Without Joey, Cori knew she was on her own.

Had she jumped the gun by running away from the marshals? She didn't have an answer to that, but the very idea that Danny Dupray was comfortable entering and exiting the federal building was something she couldn't risk. Since Joey was out of the picture, she could trust no one but herself.

Ducking into a discount store she purchased a few necessary times and then recounted her money.

She had only fifty-eight dollars left. There were plenty of fleabag hotels she could get for less than forty dollars a night, but it was cash up front. That would leave eighteen. She couldn't survive much longer than a day. She had to get to her car, but not until dark. If it was still in the parking lot, chances were that the marshals were smart enough to have it staked out. She'd wait until the last moment before she risked that.

The clerk in the store was eyeing her suspiciously, and Cori realized she was standing at the door as if she were in a daze—or intending to make a clumsy try at shoplifting. She went outside onto the street and hesitated again.

She had no idea what to do. How could she hide when she wasn't even certain who was after her?

She walked two blocks to a bakery and bought a bagel and a cup of coffee. She wasn't hungry, but she hadn't eaten, and she knew she would need the energy. The bakery had small tables, and she took a seat, watching the people pass outside the window.

The faces were bright with laughter and anticipation of the coming holiday. She had simply forgotten all about Christmas. The past forty-eight hours had put her in a time zone that was outside the normal experience of the thousands of people marching up and down the sidewalk, huge shopping bags in their hands, laughter lighting their faces.

The coffee tasted bitter, and she added several spoonfuls of sugar. Once she had loved the Christmas season, but now... the very thought anchored her heart with sadness. She swallowed the last of the bagel and stood up.

A pay telephone in a corner of the shop caught her eye. There was one person she could risk calling. Someone who'd been in a tight place before, who knew Danny Dupray and might be able to give her a line on him.

Cori hesitated. She wasn't certain she could trust Jolene not to talk to Joey, and this time she didn't want Joey involved. He'd risked his life, Laurette's life and Aaron's in his determination to carry out his duty. Whatever happened, she didn't want Joey put at risk again. But there was also the very real possibility that Joey might not even make it back to New Orleans. If he'd been transferred, he might be on a plane at this very minute. Clayton Bascombe had not been happy with his marshal.

Searching a quarter out of the bottom of her purse, she picked up the directory and found a small white-page listing for Chez Jolene. The quarter almost slipped from her grip as she inserted it. Forcing herself to be firm, she punched in the number.

The one thing she had not expected was an answering machine. Jolene's cheerful voice said she wasn't in but to leave a message at the beep. The call would be returned.

"Jolene, this is Cori. Please don't tell anyone I've called you. I'm in big trouble. I had to run away from the marshals. Danny Dupray was down at their headquarters, and it frightened me. I was afraid I was being set up. I don't have much money and I don't know what to do. I'll call back in an hour." She hung up, picked up her shopping bag and went back into the street.

She had an hour to kill, and she had to find a safe place to hide while the minutes ticked away.

She heard the tolling of the bell, marking the hour at three o'clock. She had two hours of daylight left. They would come after her in the darkness, and she had to be secure by then. If only it had been possible to bring the shotgun Laurette had taught her to use. The irony of that thought made her smile.

She could see herself strolling along the Quarter, shopping bag in one hand, shotgun in the other.

A patrol car turned the corner and she darted into the doorway of a leather shop. It struck her that the perfect hiding place was not far away, and no one would ever think to look for her there. Elated at the idea, she waited until the patrol car was gone. Then she made a beeline for St. Louis Cathedral. She could stay there for an hour, in the peace and quiet. And goodness knew, if she'd ever needed an hour of prayer, this was the time.

The urge to run the car up on the sidewalk was almost too great to resist, but Joey managed to keep himself, and the car, under rigid control. It was three-thirty. The day was waning, and he had to get to the office. How had they let Cori escape? Alone, in the city, she didn't stand a chance. And she didn't even know for certain that Kit was still on the loose. He pounded the steering wheel with the ball of his hand and silently urged the clogged traffic to move.

This was his fault. He'd had a moment of doubt about Cori and her actions, and he'd allowed her to be taken from him. Never, never should he have let her leave his side.

He could see now that the forces moving around Cori were bigger than he'd expected. Bigger than either of them knew. There had to be someone placed high in the U.S. Marshals or in the NOPD who worked hand in glove with the people who wanted to kill Cori.

There had been too many leaks, beginning with her address in Houston. That information had come from a file that no one should have had access to except himself. Only another law officer could have possibly obtained that information. But it could be someone from any branch of law enforcement—

marshals, police officers, court officials. The WP program was extremely well protected, but like any other system there were glitches. This particular glitch could cost Cori her life.

He slammed the steering wheel again. If he had been thinking, he would have put all of this together much sooner. Maybe even soon enough to save Cori's life.

His list of potential suspects was an arm long. There were too many people who had access, too many people who might succumb to the temptation of a big hunk of cash. It was often said that law enforcement officers and criminals were divided by a thin line. He'd never personally bought into that theory, but Cori's life hung in the balance. At this point, he didn't trust anyone except Laurette and Aaron.

It didn't escape his attention that they weren't cops—and Kit Wells had been.

He traced the Danny Dupray connection with Kit. The two had joined forces with Danny as Kit's stoolie. The bribe to use Cori as a witness had probably come through Danny. It made sense, because Kit would have noticed Cori's acute memory when he took the complaint call she'd lodged against Danny and his treatment of the women who worked at the Twinkle.

Kit had obviously made it a point to start wooing Cori, a fact that made Joey's hand clench the padded steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. Kit had dated her and set her up perfectly. Whatever the payoff had been, it had been worth a year of his time to continue to court Cori, even going through with a marriage ceremony. Spending time with Cori wouldn't have been hard duty, but whoever was behind Kit had plenty of money. Plenty. And that ruled out middle-level players like Danny. He had to look higher than that. And he had to figure out the motive.

Kit had been paid for having the perfect witness to a murder. He had provided that witness and kept her pacified until the trial. He'd seen to it that she testified, and then he had abandoned her to the WP

program where she would be safe. So far that made perfect sense—to a criminal mind.

But Kit bad returned and attempted to lure Cori back to New Orleans so she could be killed. That scenario had two purposes. One, Cori wouldn't be able to testify in Ben DeCarlo's retrial. Two, her death would serve the purpose of scaring off the remaining three witnesses. That was exactly what had happened to Emmet Wyatt. Joey knew for certain that Wyatt's death hadn't been a random act of violence, or the cross-purposes of some other deal Wyatt had involved himself in. He'd been brutally murdered to shut him up and to hold him up as an example to the remaining witnesses.

The problem was that the two uses of Cori were at cross-purposes—first to testify, now not to testify. And Kit was the common link. Had he switched sides? Had Ben De-Carlo gotten to him and paid him more than his original master? Those were the questions that had to be answered if Cori stood a chance of living.

At last he turned into the federal building. He didn't bother parking; he left the car in the first empty area and bounded inside.

Rushing through the maze of offices that marked all institutional complexes, he threw open the door of his office. Ken Applewhite looked up, startled, from Joey's desk. He closed the file he'd been reading.

"We didn't expect you so soon."

"So I can tell." Joey closed the door and forced his fingers to unclench. He could feel them around Applewhite's throat. He lunged over the desk and grabbed the other marshal. "You'd better tell me what you're doing in here, or you're going to die a very painful death."

Applewhite's face paled, his freckles standing out in bold relief. "I was looking for your sister's home phone number. Her husband called and said it was urgent that he talk to you. He was upset and forgot to leave the number so I thought I'd pull it from your file. I was going to leave a message at her house in case you went there first."

"Right." Joey's white-hot rage made him want to do something that would cause the man he held great pain. "If anything happens to Cori, I'm going to make you regret the day you were born. I may go to prison, but I'll go a satisfied man that I've left pieces of you all over this city."

"Take your hands off me, Tio." Applewhite had regained his composure somewhat. "Call your brother-in-law."

Joey had no choice but to let him go. He slowly released him, but his gaze never wavered. "I mean it. I'll find out who's been leaking information out of here. If it's you, you'd better contact your priest. You won't have time for the final rites when I get hold of you."