Fat Tuesday (48 page)

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Authors: Sandra Brown

Tags: #Contemporary, #Crime, #Suspense, #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Mystery & Detective

BOOK: Fat Tuesday
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"Honest?"

He stood and walked toward her."Honest. In fact, you look good enough to eat."

His smile must not have been very trustworthy because she laughed nervously and took a step backward."Thanks." She turned away."I think I'll change back into my clothes until it's time to dress for the party."

He caught her hand and brought her back around."It's time, sweetheart.

This is the party."

He ripped off the hat and veil, then stamped his mouth over her lips, which had parted with alarm. Pushing his tongue into her mouth, he curved his arm around her bare waist and pulled her against him, grinding his pelvis into hers. She struggled, which only tantalized him.

She even struck his face, which provided him an excuse to hold her tighter and to wrestle with her until he had her arm behind her and pressed up between her shoulder blades.

"What are you doing? Stop!" she cried."That hurts."

Lowering his head, he bit her breast where it swelled out of the bra cup. She screamed.

"Shut up." He squeezed her jaw painfully between his fingers and thumb.

"You do that again, and I really will hurt you, understand?" She began to cry, and her tears only intensified his lust. He loved it when they cried either out of fear or pain.

"If you hurt me, Pinkie will kill you."

He laughed."Yeah, sure he will, sweetheart."

"What are you going to do?"

"Now what do you think?" he purred, sliding his hand between her thighs and squeezing.

She shuddered in what he knew to be revulsion. To him, it was as good as a shiver of ecstasy.

"Th-they know you have me," she stammered."They'll come looking for me."

"Haven't you caught on yet, honey? Your brother-in-law arranged this little party."

"You're lying. Pinkie would never "

"But he has. You'll have him to thank for all the fun we're going to have together."

"My sister "

"Has problems of her own. She won't be worrying about you."

The reality of her situation finally seemed to sink in. She cried even harder. Bardo licked the tears off her face."Relax, sweetheart. Do everything I tell you, and, who knows, you might become as good a whore as your mama. Yeah, I know all about Angel. You were born to it.

You've got the potential to become a terrific whore."

"Please don't," she sobbed, trying to wriggle free.

He took a switchblade from his pants pocket. It sprang open with a Vicious click, which caused her to scream again. He placed the tip of the blade against her lower lip.

"You use it, you lose it. Got that? One more scream and off it comes.

And that would be a damn shame because I got ideas about what you're going to do with that sweet mouth of yours."

He slid the blade beneath the shoulder strap of the bra and cut it.

With the tension released, the cup fell forward, revealing her breast. She whimpered and her lower lip quivered uncontrollably, but she didn't scream again. He cut the second strap in the same brutal manner.

"Look at what we have here," he cooed. This time he pressed the tip of the blade against her nipple. He tapped it lightly and it tightened.

"Shame, shame," he taunted."A nice Catholic schoolgirl like you.

What would Sister What's-her-name say?"

Behind Bardo the door crashed open."Drop the knife and get away from her!"

Burke Basile was in a crouched stance, both hands wrapped around a Beretta. The next millisecond passed in a blur. His ears rang with the girl's scream. He fired at Bardo, but the lucky bastard ducked the shot.

The bullet missed his head and decimated a patch of ugly floral wallpaper behind him. Burke didn't fire again out of fear of hitting the girl. He shouted, "You're under arrest, Bardo."

"And you're real funny, Basile," Bardo yelled back as he threw his knife.

"Hr-dee-liar-liar, asshole," said the sharpshooter who materialized behind Basile.

Bardo had an instant to look stupefied before a bullet cut a neat trench between his eyes. He dropped without a whimper. The handle of his switchblade was still vibrating in the doorjamb, having missed Basile by a hair.

Tactical officers eddied around Basile as they rushed into the room.

Basile rushed over to the girl, who was staring in horror at the bloody mush that had been Bardo's head only a few seconds before. Basile removed his coat and placed it around her shoulders."Are you all right?" She regarded him with the same stupefaction as she did the corpse. He had to repeat the question before she nodded with uncertainty.

One of the men detached himself from the others."We'll handle it from here, Basile."

Basile shook hands with him."Thanks. Your men did good, from the surveillance to that," he said, indicating Bardo's body.

The officer saluted him.

Basile grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her through the doorway and along the breezeway. When they reached the parking lot, which was filling up with official vehicles, Basile pushed her into the passenger seat of an unmarked car, then jogged around the hood and got behind the wheel. Tires squealed as he sped past an arriving ambulance.

They'd only covered half a block when the girl swore."Jesus H! What took you so fucking long? That son of a bitch was creepy as hell.

And how dare he tell me I had the potential of being a terrific whore!

" Vexed, Ruby Bouchereaux's most talented girl, Isobel, reached up and pulled off the curly black wig.

looking younger than her years, Isobel was also smart, and she 2 possessed a spirit of adventure. Her specialty at Ruby's house was acting out fantasies for the clients who could afford it. The combination of those qualities had made her a perfect choice to portray Flarra Lambeth in Burke Basile's setup.

Of course, she'd also been paid very well for her time and trouble.

After presenting her with a sizable check, Basile and the prostitute parted company at the door of Ruby's office. He was in a hurry, but it would have been rude to decline the madam's offer of a drink after she had been instrumental in trapping Bardo.

"So, everything went according to plan?" Ruby asked, extending Burke a glass of whiskey.

"Perfect." He slammed back the drink."I listened from Sister Beatrice's outer office. Even I was convinced that Isobel was an innocent schoolgirl."

"And so she was, way back when," Ruby said, laughing softly."But I'm pleased that the ruse worked. You know your enemies well, Mr. Basile."

He watched the whiskey tumbling from decanter to waiting glass as Ruby poured him a refill."Remy was positive that Pinkie would try and get to her through her sister, and she was right, although we weren't relying entirely on her gut instinct. Bardo had been under surveillance.

His conversation with Duvall was intercepted this morning, so we knew he was picking up Flarra and for what purpose."

"The man needed to die."

"I couldn't agree with you more," Burke said grimly."Isobel and I arrived at Blessed Heart no more than half an hour ahead of him When she and Bardo left the academy, the van followed them to the motel.

It went off without a hitch, although Isobel blistered my ears for letting it go so long before stopping it."

"Where is Flarra now?"

"Under police protection. Incorruptible police protection."

"And Bardo is dead?"

"Definitely," Burke said quietly, then downed his second drink.

"Too bad you didn't bring me his ear, or some other appendage. I would have liked a souvenir." The madam raised her glass to Basile, then drank her shot.

"Thank you for lending us Isobel," he told her."Once again, I'm indebted to you."

"Nonsense. Bardo's death evened our score. Besides, I owe you for another favor. You sent me Dixie, who I think will be a profitable addition to the house."

He smiled."I figured the two of you would hit it off, but I hate that she waited until Bardo beat her up before coming here."

"She's making a nice recovery." She offered him another round but he shook his head."You've earned my gratitude, Mr. Basile, as well as the hospitality of the house whenever you wish to use it."

"Thank you, but I doubt I'll ever cash in that marker."

The madam practically purred."You and Mrs. Duvall?"

"Remy," he corrected.

The hardest thing he'd ever had to do was leave her that morning.

They had talked long into the night, holding each other, making love, and assessing what had seemed a hopeless situation.

With morning came the ugly realization that, for a time, she must be returned to Duvall. She was easier with the plan than Burke, who had vowed that she would never darken the doorway of Duvall's house again.

"I won't let you go back. Not for an afternoon. Not for an hour." But even as he said that, he knew it was their only viable option.

"I don't look forward to it, but I'll handle it," she had told him.

"Maybe I couldn't have or wouldn't have a week ago. But now I can and will. Just see to Flarra, and please, please, take care of yourself."

They had continued to cling to one another until Dredd intervened, warning them that timing was critical to Basile's plan, and that they were liable to blow it if they didn't get a move on. So Burke had placed her in Dredd's safekeeping until Pat arrived.

Burke had figured District Attorney Littrell for a basically honest man who was up against overwhelming odds to keep the N.O.P.D from living up to its national reputation as one of the most corrupt law enforcement agencies in the country.

Littrell held a lower opinion of Lieutenant Burke Basile because it had been colored by negative publicity, hearsay, and malicious gossip.

So when Burke barged unannounced into his office, the D.A. was at first taken aback and threatened to have Burke evicted from the building.

But Burke's fast talking soon got Littrell's attention. He listened with mounting dismay to everything Burke told him. With a politician's characteristic caution, however, he made no promises other than to look into the matter and get back to Burke in due course.

At which point Burke had picked up the telephone on the D.A."s desk and brandished it like an evangelist with the Holy Bible."Either you call the A.G or I'm going to call him myself. Either way, doesn't matter to me. This is merely a courtesy call on you, Mr. Littrell. I'm giving you a chance to prove which side of this corruption you're on."

Littrell had placed a call to the state attorney general. With his sanction, things had come together with head-spinning haste. As a result of quick action, coordination, and luck, Bardo was dead.

Burke stood and shook hands with Ruby Bouchereaux."Thank you for the drink, and forgive me for rushing off, but I'm hoping to be in on Duvall's arrest."

"Tonight? Oh, I seriously doubt he'll be arrested tonight, Mr. Basile."

"Why?"

'"It's Mardi Gras."

"So?"

"So, the only news coming from Duvall headquarters is about the costume party he's hosting. In fact, a few of the gentlemen who've joined our party here came straight from Pinkie's house, where the party is already in full swing. From what they've said, it's quite a blowout."

Burke stared at her as the frightening implications of this development began to sink in. He checked his pager. It was on, no indication of a low battery. Remy hadn't called it, which was to be his signal that something had gone terribly wrong.

He asked permission to use Ruby's phone."This is Basile," he said as soon as his call was answered."Do we have Duvall yet?"

He was patched through to three different desks until one brave soul finally broke the shattering news to him."Arresting a celebrity citizen like Duvall is a tricky undertaking, especially if you're trying to maintain secrecy. There are miles of red tape involved. We want to do it by the book so it doesn't result in a mistrial. It might take days "

"Days!" Burke shouted."Are you fucking crazy?"

"We're doing the best we can, Mr. Basile. And shouting obscenities at me

"Lives are in danger, you idiot."

"We might be able to pull it off tonight, but "

"Stay on it, you hear me. You get that warrant issued and served tonight, or I'll have Littrell and the A.G. on your ass, and then I'll personally come down there and stamp the shit out of you."

He slammed the receiver down."I gotta get over there." Days. Remy couldn't stay with Duvall for days while the bureaucrats sorted through the paperwork. As soon as he heard about Bardo, Duvall would go on red alert. He thought Bardo was locked away in a motel, deflowering his sister-in-law. When he learned differently, he would start piecing it together and eventually come around to Remy.

"Mr. Basile," the madam said, catching his sleeve as he rushed past her on his way out, "you'll be very conspicuous gate-crashing Pinkie Duvall's party dressed like that. Would you care to borrow a costume?"

Burke didn't have a moment to waste, but he saw the advisability of taking the time for her to locate him a costume. He paced her office, cursing the system that had once again let him down, and at the same time thanking it.

The delay uptown gave him an opportunity to do one better than arrest Duvall.

It gave him a chance to kill the bastard.

The pain in Remy's back had receded to a dull ache. A bruise was beginning to appear on her cheekbone, but the swelling was minimal.

These aches and pains she could tolerate. What she couldn't abide was the thought of her sister being abused by Bardo.

Burke had sworn to see to Flarra's safety first, even before arresting Pinkie. He would keep that promise if he could. But what if, in spite of his valiant attempts, he'd failed? She had. Pinkie had readily seen through her pretense. Maybe Burke had had no better success than she.

Maybe he'd been unable to persuade the district attorney and the attorney general to act swiftly.

because she didn't know otherwise, she had to assume that he'd failed, which meant that saving Flarra still rested with her. A telephone.

That's all she needed. She had met the first challenge of figuring a way out of the master bedroom she now had a key. The next step was finding an available telephone.

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