Delicious (35 page)

enough for Alyssa‟s worst fears to be confirmed: Someone had destroyed

Luc‟s wedding gift to her. The photo of their wedding kiss had been ripped

into little pieces. The terrible intruder had splashed red paint on the picture

frame. It dripped down the engraving. She sobbed and reached out for it,

wanting the frame restored so badly she ached.

Tyler wrapped his arms around her middle, forcing her arms to her

sides. “You can‟t.”

“B-but Luc gave this to me.” Sick, shuddering, shaking sobs poured

forth and she doubled over, unable to look at the devastation anymore.

Tyler pulled her back against his chest, his palm over her abdomen,

his lips at her ear. “It‟s okay. We‟ll fix everything. Honey, don‟t make

yourself sick over this. It‟s not good for you.”

Or the baby. She knew that, but the shock and fear crashing through

her system, combined with exhaustion and the noxious scents, had her on

overload.

“Shh,” he soothed.

She just shook her head. “I can‟t.”

“You have to get it together. Remy and the boys will be here soon.

Let‟s go.”

Alyssa gave him a miserable nod, and Tyler dragged her to her feet.

Her knees nearly didn‟t support her, but she forced herself to stay upright.

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Tyler dropped the comforter, slightly away from the ruined picture

frame, revealing the last and worst of the horrors. The picture of her in her

wedding dress had been ripped from the frame, and he‟d left her a

message that made her scream herself into a black abyss.

ALYSSA was missing. Pacing his Los Angeles hotel room before

dawn, Luc tried her house and cell numbers again. No answer at either and

no voice mail at the former. Sadie had been unable to locate her at

Bonheur or the club. Remy could only tell him that Alyssa had made a 911

call and reported that someone had broken into her house. And that by the

time the sheriff and his deputy arrived, her car was there . . . but she was

nowhere in sight.

Had someone abducted her? What if someone other than Peter had

left those threatening notes and taken her?

The term “cold sweat” had a whole new meaning for him as he shoved

the last of his belongings in his suitcase.

An hour ago, he‟d called Jack Cole, who had immediately started the

hunt for Alyssa. Jack had called a few minutes ago to say that, so far, he‟d

found nothing. And Luc felt helpless in Los Angeles. If Alyssa was missing .

. . The taping of the show was important, but not more than finding her and

the baby.

The only other person his wife knew that he hadn‟t spoken with yet

was Tyler. Alyssa would go to him; the bouncer made her feel safe. But

what else did he make her feel? Would she really fuck the baby‟s biological

father mere hours after Luc turned his back? He didn‟t have an answer, but

Luc knew Tyler would be only too happy to have Alyssa in his bed again.

Still, the jealous clenching of his gut was better than thinking a madman

had gotten his hands on her.

But both options sucked.

Swearing, Luc grabbed his phone again and called Jack. “Anything

new?”

“Sorry, man.” Jack‟s voice. “I checked the hospitals. Nothing.”

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Closing his eyes, Luc tamped down panic, fearing that, one way or

another, he‟d lost Alyssa. “Keep looking. Please. I‟m on my way to the

airport. I‟ll call Sadie again, see if she can track Tyler down. I‟ll catch the

first flight back I can.”

After more murmured sympathy from Jack, he hung up and made the

call to Sadie he dreaded. She answered right away.

“I checked with Brandy,” the dancer said. “She hasn‟t heard from

Alyssa.”

Luc pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting off the headache he knew

stemmed from lack of sleep. When he hadn‟t been able to reach his wife in

the wee hours of the morning, he‟d been unable to go to sleep. No way

he‟d be able to rest until he knew what the hell was going on.

“What about Tyler?”

“I called. No answer. I‟d drive by his place . . . but I don‟t know where

he lives. He‟s never been interested in socializing with anyone but Alyssa.”

Socializing?
Luc barely held in a grunt. If Tyler had Alyssa, Luc bet the man was doing something far more personal to his wife.

Thanking the dancer, Luc hung up and called Jack again as he

grabbed a taxi to the airport. “Can you find an address for a guy named

Tyler Murphy? He‟s new to Lafayette.”

“Alyssa‟s bouncer? Yeah. Give me a few and I‟ll call you back.”

Gratified that Jack was on his side, Luc tried Alyssa again. No

response. He left a message on his producer‟s cell phone, indicating that

his wife was missing and he was on his way back to Louisiana.

Traffic was light before six a.m. As soon as Luc hit the airport and

cleared security, his phone was ringing. His heart stopped. Hope was a

nasty spike of adrenaline. Until he looked at his display. Jack.

“Talk to me.”

“There‟s no record of a Tyler Murphy living in Lafayette. At least no

one with a driver‟s license living in the area between the ages of twenty-five

and forty. Checked the surrounding areas, too.”

Luc‟s blood ran cold. “What does that mean?”

“Either Mr. Murphy hasn‟t updated his license since moving to the

area, which he‟s supposed to do within thirty days, and as a former cop he

should know it.”

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“Yeah, he‟s been there about four months. What‟s the „or‟?” But Luc

feared he knew the answer.

“Or the man isn‟t who he claims to be.”

Fuck!
Maybe her buddy Tyler had been threatening her all along.

Getting her pregnant was probably just an added kick on his sick freak

agenda.

As Luc boarded the plane, he tried Alyssa one more time. No answer.

Luc didn‟t want to think this but . . . what was he going to do without her?

That question haunted him for the next five hours, along with chilling

regret. In that moment, he‟d take back the anger, his snide comments,

cross words, anything that had made her cry. He replayed their final night

at Sexy Sirens, right before Peter‟s attack, in his head and wondered how

the fuck he could have been such a prick while he‟d cooked for Bonheur‟s

opening. She‟d been nothing but honest about the kind of woman she was,

and he‟d treated her with contempt. All because he‟d been too afraid to

admit how much he loved her. Because he‟d feared he was forming an

attachment to someone who would make him choose between his heart

and his dreams—and he‟d punished her.

As his plane touched down in Lafayette, Luc had to restrain himself

from charging out of his seat as they taxied to the gate. Quickly, he

checked his cell phone for messages. Nothing.

But one thought hit him like a ton of bricks: Not once during the long

plane trip had he thought of the baby. His every thought, fear, and prayer

had been for Alyssa.

JACK met Luc at the baggage claim, Hunter in tow. A cold sweat

flattened him. Had they come to tell him the worst?

“What‟s going on?” Luc demanded.

“Nothing new has happened.” Jack stuck out his hand, and Luc shook

it, trembling with overpowering relief. Alyssa might not be safe yet, but at

least she hadn‟t been found dead.

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“We‟re still following clues,” Hunter offered. “The sheriff here is an

idiot.”

Kimber‟s brother looked as though he might have thawed toward Luc.

Maybe. In his assessment of Remy, Luc agreed.

“We came to pick you up.” Jack looked at the baggage carousel. “Got

bags?”

“Carried on,” he told Jack. “You didn‟t have to come here. I have a

car.”

Jack raised a dark brow. “Sleep any in the last twenty-four hours? Able

to get your mind off of Alyssa at all?”

Luc sent the man a bullish glare. Hell, no, and both he and Hunter

knew it. “Then take me to the house. I want to see it.”

The two men glanced at each other. Luc saw instantly they were

against that plan.

“Unless you have a strong stomach and can absolutely say you won‟t

fly into a rage, I don‟t recommend that,” Jack finally said.

The first . . . usually. The latter, no. He was already pissed.

“Lay it on me straight. Did there look to be signs of a struggle? Remy

wouldn‟t say a damn thing.”

“No. At least I don‟t think so. But the psycho‟s parting shot didn‟t leave

me with a warm fuzzy.”

Luc‟s heart stopped. “Parting shot? He left something behind?”

Jack grimaced. “Alyssa‟s wedding photo covered in red paint with the

words DEAD WHORE.”

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H
OPING to find Alyssa, Tyler, or someone who knew something about

either, Luc persuaded Jack to run him to Sexy Sirens. It was a long shot,

but he couldn‟t leave any stone unturned.

As soon as they pulled up in front of the aged brick building with its

flashy sign, Luc noticed a group forming outside and groaned.

“Primpton? Fuck.” Jack sounded as pleased as Luc felt.

Damn, this sanctimonious bastard really pissed him off. Today was not

a good day to step on his last nerve.

“And he‟s got the press with him.” Luc cursed. “What the hell does he

want?”

“Besides to shut down your wife‟s club?” Jack stated the obvious.

“Attention,” Hunter drawled. “Pricks like him crawl on others‟ backs

with their „look at me, look at me‟ mentality. He‟s a boy in a man‟s body

who wants to be God when he grows up.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, the morality police. Fucker.”

As soon as the car stopped, Luc jumped out. He‟d have gone around

back to avoid Primpton, but he didn‟t have a key to the back door. Alyssa

had given him one to the front, in case of emergencies. This qualified.

As he approached the club, Primpton blocked this path, his curly gray

hair frizzing in the humid afternoon. His jowls shook as he stepped in front

of Luc and wagged a finger in his face.

“Stop! Think about your immortal soul before you enter this place

where the devil is at work. Where sin is king.”

Luc had to clench his teeth and restrain himself to keep from pounding

the jerk into the pavement. “Think about the fact you‟re loitering, and if you

take another step, you‟ll be on private property, and I‟ll have you arrested

for trespassing.”

Primpton‟s rheumy blue eyes went wide. “That‟s devil‟s whore has

swayed you to the side of sin and fornication!”

“It‟s not fornication since we‟re married.”

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“A pathetic mask! A secular union like yours doesn‟t change what she

is.”

“Don‟t you
dare
talk about my wife that way. She‟s a taxpaying

business member of this community who has never lifted a finger against

you. What gives you the right to judge her?”

The councilman puffed up his narrow chest. “It‟s the job of all of God‟s

true believers to lead others to the path of righteousness.”

Vomit. Luc didn‟t have the time for narrow-minded asses, and today

especially, he lacked the patience.

“Then you should be pleased to know that Alyssa is retiring from the

stage. She won‟t be performing again.”

Primpton perked up. “She‟s closing the club?”

“Did your marriage have any impact on your wife‟s decision to stop