Blown Away (20 page)

Startled, Mike took a step sideways.

Between her sudden appearance and Boudreaux’s quick sidestep, Lance’s brain computed imminent danger. Tied up and unable to fight for himself, he screamed, then threw his arms across his face.

In the poorly lit scene, all Cari was aware of was Mike’s sudden movement, followed by an unexpected scream. By the time Lance threw his arms up in self-defense, she was already swinging.

The blow hit Lance at waist level, knocking the breath out of him. He went down without a sound, then sat sprawled on the ground, gasping like a fish out of water.

By that time Aaron and Trent had carefully moved themselves out of harm’s way, leaving nothing but their spotlights trained on the downed man.

Cari took a step forward, peering down, then crying out in disbelief.

“Oh! For the love of God. Is that Lance?”

Mike was laughing so hard he could hardly answer. “It was,” he said, and then took the board out of Cari’s hands and tossed it aside before she could do any more damage.

Aaron was grinning widely. “Good one, ma’am. If you ever decide you want to do something besides work for the boss, I’ll make an opening for you on my team.”

Still reeling from the fear of believing they’d been shot at earlier, Cari kicked the bottom of Lance’s shoe.

“Lance! Was that you who fired those shots?”

He leaned forward, desperately wanting to curse every bone in her body, but he couldn’t find the breath. Someone thumped him on the back a couple of times, then yanked him to his feet. The suddenness of the motion made him gasp, which drew fresh oxygen back into his lungs.

“Jesus Christ, Susan,” he muttered, as he coughed and hacked. “You are a freakin’ menace.”

Cari started to panic. She hadn’t been prepared to face anyone without some sort of disguise, but then she realized the cover of darkness would do all that was needed. Slowing her speech down to mimic Susan’s, she lit into him with both barrels.

“You’re calling me a menace when you were the one shooting at us? Are you out of your mind? What in hell were you thinking?”

Lance rounded on her as if they were children
again and she’d just burst his balloon. “I was thinking, as I was looking for the cattle that had gotten out, that I might need protection in the dark. That’s what I was thinking. And I was fucking right! I shot at a panther who was eating on the carcass of one of your uncle Frank’s cows so it wouldn’t eat me. That’s what I was doing.”

Then he grabbed his belly and doubled over again. “Damn it to hell, that hurt,” he moaned. “Besides, it’s not like you haven’t heard gunshots out here your entire life.”

She glared. “Well, smartass. It’s not every day there are four escaped prisoners yet to be accounted for. When I heard that first shot, that’s the first thing I thought of.”

Lance cursed himself for forgetting about that. “Oh. Right. I didn’t think.”

Cari rolled her eyes. “And what else is new?”

Lance glared.

Ignoring him, she turned to the other men. “Was there really a panther?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aaron said.

“It came for me, so I shot at it. I didn’t know anyone was even on the property,” Lance said.

“Um…that’s not exactly true,” Trent Joseph said. “You saw the lights in the motor home. I know because I saw you stop to look at them.”

Lance turned on him, blustering his way through yet another flimsy explanation. “Well…yes…of
course I saw them then. What I meant to say was that I didn’t know anyone was here until I got here.”

Cari snorted. “Fine. Your explanation has been made. Now that you’ve scared an entire year off my life, you can take your sorry ass home.”

Lance yanked at the rope tied around him, waited for Trent to untie it, and then wadded it up into a messy coil and extended his hand to Aaron. “My weapon…if you please.”

Aaron emptied the bullets out into the dirt and then handed back the gun.

“What the hell?” Lance cried. “I might need those. That panther is still out there…somewhere.”

Mike pointed toward his Range Rover. “Trent will take you home. And I would suggest that the next time your cattle get out, you choose a better way to look for them than after dark, on foot, on someone else’s property.”

Lance stomped off toward the car, Trent on his heels.

They heard the door slam, then Mike pointed toward the motor home. “Aaron, the car keys are on the little shelf over the sink. Maybe you’d better ride along. Give the sorry bastard something to think about with one armed man behind him and another in the seat beside him.”

“You got it, boss,” Aaron said, and jogged off after the others.

A few moments later the lights came on, then Aaron came back out on the run. Mike and Cari
watched until the taillights of the vehicle were disappearing up the driveway. At that point, he turned to face her.

“You are something fierce, Carolina. Remind me not to startle you ever again.”

“Well, what was I supposed to think? We hear gunshots, then you disappear up on the hill while I’m back here imagining God knows what. All I could think was, I’m going down fighting.”

Mike grinned, then swung her off her feet and into his arms.

“I read you loud and clear,
cher.
All I ask is that I get to be on your side in the next war, okay? Now…come inside before the skeeters eat you up.”

“Mosquitoes are the least of my problems,” Cari said. “And just for the record, I didn’t fully believe Lance, did you?”

“No, ma’am, I did not,” he said.

“Then what do you think this means? Do you think he suspects something?”

“I wouldn’t want to bet your life on it,” Mike said.

“Crap,” Cari muttered. “All the more reason to make this a quick and successful search.”

It was daybreak when Cari woke abruptly. She sat straight up in bed, her heart pounding and her fingers knotted in the covers. In a panic, she grabbed Mike’s arm and shook him awake.

“Mike! Wake up!”

He woke instantly and was reaching for his pants when Cari grabbed his arm.

“I think Lance knows who I am.”

His heart dropped, although he wasn’t surprised. “What makes you say that?”

“It was something he said last night. At the time, it didn’t click.”

“What was it?” Mike asked.

“Last night, when he was yelling at me for hitting him in the stomach, he said, ‘It’s not like you haven’t heard gunshots out here your entire life.’”

“I don’t follow.”

Cari’s shoulders slumped. “That statement wouldn’t apply to Susan. Her whole life was spent in cities. Not once did she ever live out in the country. She only visited. The family was here often, but not often enough to make Lance say something like that.”

“Well, hell,” Mike said. “This changes everything. I need to notify Aaron, and you need to think about talking to the parish police
before
you start searching for that body, not afterward.”

L
ance hadn’t slept a wink. He’d done morning chores before daylight while thinking about what lay ahead. His belly still hurt from the blow Cari had delivered last night, and his feelings were still raw from being trussed up like a prize pig and dragged down the hill to face her. The only saving grace of the entire debacle was knowing he’d put one over on her. She didn’t know he was on to her, and that would be his edge. He knew why she’d come back here, and it had nothing to do with reclaiming her property. She was going to look for the body. That meant he had no time to waste. Somehow—someway—this had to be her last day on earth, or he would have to resort to plan B, which, for Lance, was six feet under. Problem was, he wasn’t sure he had the guts to kill himself.

Falling in love with Carolina was the first impulsive thing Mike Boudreaux had ever done in his life.
As a kid on the streets, not even the sharpest-tongued bully with the biggest fists had been able to goad him into a fight unless he had a stake in the outcome. He’d always known what he wanted out of life and gone after it in a cool, methodical way. Normally he was the man with the plan—the business shark who knew how to turn failing companies around without losing his shirt in the process. He did nothing without an in-depth study and hours of preparation.

But he had never been faced with a woman like Carolina North—a woman strong enough to bury her own identity to right a wrong. He just hadn’t known it when he’d been standing at the bedside of a stranger, waiting for her to wake up and explain her impersonation, hadn’t realized that he would be head over heels in love with her before the end of the week.

Now his problem was figuring out how to keep her safe until Lance Morgan was behind bars, although she’d done a fair job of taking care of herself last night when she’d downed Morgan with a piece of broken lumber. That had been priceless. Hearing those shots last night had rattled him, and it had been a tense few minutes as he’d run up the hill toward Aaron and Trent, not knowing for sure what he would find. Her revelation this morning that she was sure Lance Morgan knew who she was, was even more unsettling.

Today was going to be a long one. He had to get her into Bordelaise, convince the parish police she
wasn’t crazy, then begin the search for the body, even though the man with the cadaver dog couldn’t get here until later in the evening. Cari had maps and a starting point, which was the original grave.

He pulled a knit shirt over his head, dropped his cell phone into the back pocket of his Levi’s and headed for the kitchen area. Cari was microwaving some of Songee’s ham biscuits for breakfast, and he’d started the coffee while she was dressing. As soon as they ate, they were heading into Bordelaise.

“Hey, good-lookin’,” he said, as Cari handed him a ham biscuit. “I don’t know which looks better, you or this biscuit.”

“It better be me,” she said, then wiped her hands on the seat of her jeans and flicked a biscuit crumb off her T-shirt.

Mike grinned, eyeing her short spiky hair, and then swooped in for a kiss that left her reeling. Before she could comment, he took a big bite of the biscuit, then rolled his eyes as he chewed. After he swallowed, he pretended to study the difference between her kiss and the bite he’d just taken.

“Oh…stop it,” she said. “I don’t want you to lie, and I don’t want to know you’d rather have biscuits.”

Mike laughed out loud, picked up another biscuit and his coffee cup.

“So,
cher
…you ready to go face the music and confess your masquerade?”

Cari sighed. “No, but it has to be done.”

“That’s my girl,” he said.

As they were moving toward the door, a knock sounded, then Aaron yelled from outside, “Hey, boss, it’s me!”

“Come in,” Mike called back.

Aaron walked in and immediately eyed the ham biscuits.

“There’s more,” Cari said. “Help yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am. Don’t mind if I do,” Aaron said.

“Are you and Trent ready to go?” Mike asked.

Aaron nodded as he picked up a biscuit.

“What did Lance do after you dropped him off last night?”

“I can’t say what he did inside, but I
can
say he didn’t come back out until early this morning to feed the animals. You know…he makes a big deal out of what he does, but it sure doesn’t amount to much. He’s got ten head of cattle, a few chickens and some barn cats.”

Cari sighed. “It used to be more. So much more. His father raised horses and bred Hereford cattle. His mother was a professional artist and pretty well-known for her paintings of the Louisiana swamps. The family was a good family. His brother, Joe, is a super guy. It was Lance that they spoiled. When Joe finds out what Lance has done, it’ll destroy him.”

Mike cupped the back of Cari’s neck.

“It’s not your fault, and it’s not your problem. All that’s happening to Lance Morgan is nothing more
than what he’s brought on himself, so don’t start claiming all the guilt. You hear?”

Cari nodded. “I hear.”

“Okay, then. We’ll keep an eye on Morgan,” Aaron said, as he grabbed one last ham biscuit. “For Trent,” he said, and bolted out the door.

Mike grinned. “What do you want to bet that Trent never sees that biscuit?”

“I’ll bet you’re right, and that’s all I’ll bet,” she said.

Mike laughed.

Cari loved the way Mike’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and when he laughed, the sound was like balm to her badly wounded heart. She’d never gotten this close to a man this fast in her life. It was scary and exciting, and like standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for it to go out from under her. But she wanted it—and him—bad enough not to step back. If she fell, so be it. Knowing him, making love with him—it would all be worth it.

Mike’s focus shifted when he saw her expression flatten. He knew she was struggling, both with the revelation of her resurrection and with what would happen when she told what she’d seen. And yet, when he thought about what was at stake, and how a tornado and a twist of fate had brought them together, he knew what was happening was meant to be. And even if this wasn’t the perfect setting, it was the right time to say what he’d known for days. He slid his hands down the sides of her hips, then pulled her close.

“What would you think if I told you that when this was over, I don’t want us to be over, too?”

Breath caught in the back of Cari’s throat as her eyes filled with tears. “I would think that we were feeling the same things.”

Mike sighed with both relief and understanding. “I know today isn’t going to be champagne and roses, but it’s going to be all right. I just wanted you to know that, whatever happens, we’re in it together, okay?”

“You aren’t just saying this out of loyalty to Susan?”

“
Cher
…I adored Susan, but I would never think about happily-ever-after with any woman just to please someone else. I’m as serious as I’ve ever been, and as sure as I’ve ever been that this is right.”

Cari’s vision blurred. “Oh, Mike…”

His expression crumpled. “No…no,
cher
…no…this wasn’t meant to make you sad,” he said, and began kissing her eyes, then her cheeks, then her lips, trying to coax a smile back on her face.

“It’s just that…my parents will never know you,” she whispered.

“I know,
cher
…and mine will never know you, either, but think about this. We both loved Susan, and if it wasn’t for her, we might never have met.”

A wry smile tilted the corners of her mouth. “This is true…and she would be gloating about it, too. So, about this long-term stuff…we can discuss it after this mess is over, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed.

She kissed the hollow at the base of his throat, then leaned back and looked up. “And…when I’m me again, we’ll talk about happily-ever-afters, too.”

An ache was building, fired by his desire for her and a fear that no matter what they did to keep her safe, it wouldn’t be enough. Still, it would do no good to let it show, and he managed to return her teasing.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m no longer the one in charge?”

Cari grinned. “My daddy used to say, ‘If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.’”

Mike touched his forehead to hers, then brushed a soft kiss across her lips. “Sounds like your daddy was a pretty smart man.”

“He was.” Then she changed the subject before it made her cry. “So…you’ve totally rattled my head and my heart today, and I thank you for it. I have a feeling this will be as good as it gets until this mess is over. Are you ready to be my witness and to bail me out of jail if the need arises?”

Mike was still grinning as he grabbed his coffee and biscuits. “Right behind you,
cher.
”

Vera Samuels was dumping the old coffee grounds into the wastebasket in preparation for making a fresh pot of coffee when the door to the police department opened behind her.

“Be right with you,” she said, then quickly added
a new filter, coffee, and slid the pot beneath the reservoir and turned on the machine. She picked up her coffee cup as she turned around.

“Oh. Miss Blackwell, it’s you. How can I—”

When the words died on her lips, Cari realized her masquerade was over. Minus bandages, bruises and sunglasses, the new hairdo wasn’t enough to disguise her true identity, especially from someone who’d known her as long as Vera had.

“Now, Vera…take a deep breath. Before you freak out, let me assure you that you’re not imagining things.”

Vera screamed. The thick pottery-style cup hit the floor with a loud pop, shattering into a dozen pieces as she covered her face with her hands and started reciting the Lord’s Prayer as loud and as fast as she could.

Cari gave Mike a wild look, then rolled her eyes, grabbed Vera by the shoulders, and started talking.

“Vera. Stop. Stop. You’re not losing your mind. You’re not imagining things. It’s me, Carolina. I’m not dead, okay?”

Vera choked, then shuddered as she peered through the fingers splayed over her face.

“How did this happen?” she asked, then didn’t wait for an answer. Instead she threw her arms around Cari’s neck and hugged her fiercely. “Oh my God, my God…you’re not dead. You’re—” All of a sudden she drew back and fixed Cari with a shocked
expression. “Why did you come to the funerals and pretend you were Susan?”

“It’s a really long story, and I need to talk to Hershel. Is he in?” Cari asked.

Vera nodded, then started crying again.

“Oh, honey…don’t cry,” Cari said, and looked to Mike for help, but he just held up his hands with a “no way, Jose” expression on his face.

The last thing he wanted was to have a crying woman he didn’t know dumped in his lap.

“How come you’re not dead?” Vera wailed. “Who died? Who did we bury?”

Cari sighed. “Susan. You buried my cousin, Susan.”

As the reality of it all began to sink in, Vera began to chant, “It’s a miracle. A miracle!”

“Not for Susan, it’s not,” Cari said, but not even that harsh reminder could dim Vera’s joy.

Hershel Porter figured the coffee must be ready by now and left his office in search of a cup.

The first thing he saw when he reached the outer office was Vera laughing and hugging some woman. He didn’t like emotional scenes and wondered what the hell he’d walked in on. Then he recognized the man who’d accompanied Susan Blackwell to the North funerals and caught his eye.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Vera tore herself loose from Cari’s arms and swung her around. “Chief, look! It’s Cari North. She’s not dead. She’s not dead after all.”

Hershel’s eyes bugged, and his mouth dropped. For a moment it felt as if he’d been sucker punched.

“Cari? Is it really you?” he asked, eyeing the short hair and fading bruises.

She sighed. “Yes, it’s me. And…we need to talk.”

“You think?” Hershel waved her toward his office. “Vera. Hold my calls.”

“Yes, sir,” Vera said.

Then Cari said, “Vera…you have to promise not to tell anyone about this. Not yet.”

“But—”

“You can’t,” Cari said. “It’s a matter of life and death.”

Vera’s eyes widened, then her jaw set. She hadn’t worked in the police department for the past ten years without learning a thing or two about staying mum.

“Not a word,” she vowed, then pulled herself together and began sweeping up broken crockery as Cari and Mike followed the police chief back into his office.

“Sit,” Hershel said, pointing to a pair of chairs on the opposite side of his desk.

“Happy to,” Mike said. “But you’re going to be the one who needs to sit to hear this story.”

Hershel frowned, then sat down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he fixed Cari with a cautious stare.

“How the hell did this mixup happen, and why did
you masquerade as your cousin the day of the funerals? It
was
you…right? You knowingly came to Bordelaise and watched us bury you. So tell me why.”

Cari sighed. “It’s a long story, but the ugly end of it is, I accidentally walked up on Lance Morgan out in the woods between our properties just minutes before the tornado hit. He was in the act of digging a grave, and there was a dead man wrapped up in what looked like a rug lying there.”

Hershel stood up with a jerk. “What the hell are you saying? That Morgan murdered someone?”

“I didn’t see the man die. I only saw Lance in the act of burying him.”

“Holy shit,” Hershel muttered, then shoved his hands through his hair in disbelief. “Who was it? Could you identify the dead man?”

“I don’t think so,” Cari said.

Hershel sat back down, then grabbed a legal pad and a pen. He had a bad feeling that he’d just found out what happened to the missing lawyer. “Start talking.”

And so Cari did, starting from the moment she’d walked up on the scene, describing the black car, the fact that Lance had given chase but never caught her, and on to the time the tornado hit and what had happened afterward. By the time she got to the end of the story, tears were running down her face.

“I came to, in pain and bloody, found my father impaled on a wall by a piece of lumber, my mother dead beneath a pile of furniture and Susan dead with
her face…gone. I kept going in and out of consciousness, remembering that I’d seen Lance trying to hide one murder victim and didn’t want to end up being the second. Susan’s car hadn’t been damaged. I managed to drive into Baton Rouge. I barely remember the trip, only that I passed out at a stoplight. By the time I came to in a hospital, everyone had assumed I was Susan because I had her purse, her identification, and was driving her car. And we looked so much alike.”