Going Once (Forces of Nature) (4 page)

* * *

Nola was naked beneath the scrubs and very aware of that fact as she sat in the backseat between Tate and the chief. She had a running list going in her head as to what she was going to have to do when she got back. She had enough money in the bank to pick up some stuff at the Dollar Store in town, but where would she go after that? There was a trailer park, one small motel and a woman who took in boarders, but lot of people would have been displaced, so the chance of finding room in any of those places was slim. She knew things would eventually work out, but it was the not knowing that was so unsettling.

And then there was the killer among them. She’d seen him at work. That cold, calculated shot was something she would never forget. She leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes, and for the first time in years she regretted not leaving Queens Crossing with Tate Benton when he’d asked her.

* * *

It had been a long time since Tate had been this close to a woman he wanted, and pretending it didn’t matter was next to impossible. He kept glancing at her when she wasn’t looking. He had never seen her look this defeated. They’d spent their lives planning to raise a family in Queens Crossing. Having him do an about-face at the last minute must have shocked and, more than that, hurt her. He’d begged her to leave with him, but without being willing to offer an explanation. And she had refused to go without one. He’d been so hurt by his father’s rejection, and Nola’s rejection had only added to his pain. The only way he’d been able to function had been to get as far away from his father as he could. He should have trusted Nola then and told her—and he would have, if it had been his secret to tell. At the time, he’d felt he couldn’t betray his mother, but given the way she was now, it was all water under the bridge—which, when he thought about it, was a horrible analogy.

Cameron was thinking of Laura Doyle as he drove back to Queens Crossing and looking forward to seeing her again. He knew they were there to find a killer, not a new relationship, although it appeared Tate would be willing to rekindle his if the Landry woman would let him. However, there was no harm making friends with someone while working on a case, especially a woman as pretty as Laura.

Nola was asleep when they passed the city limits. She’d fallen over onto Tate’s shoulder, and he’d let her lean all she wanted. If he didn’t think too hard about it, he could almost believe it was just like old times.

Wade looked over his shoulder to the pair in the backseat, then frowned and pointed to Nola’s wrists. One of them was seeping blood through the bandage onto the leg of her scrubs.

Tate nodded. They would get her bandaged up again at the gym.

Beaudry glanced out the window as they drove into town.

“All these strangers, all this chaos...it doesn’t even look like home anymore,” he said softly.

Tate followed his gaze, looking at his onetime home with new eyes. He and his partners spent most of their time in places just like this. Crime followed chaos, and it had been that way since the world began.

“Just drop me off at the station,” Beaudry said.

Cameron took the turn at the bank toward the police station, let Beaudry out then drove to the gym.

Nola woke up just as they neared the gym. She was stiff and disoriented, and Tate saw the panic in her eyes.

“We’re back in Queens Crossing,” he said.

She scooted away from him, then saw the bloody bandage on her wrist and frowned.

“I have blood on my clean clothes.”

“They have donated clothing at the shelter. I think they’ll have something you can wear,” Tate said.

She shoved her long hair out of her eyes. “That’s good, and I think maybe I need to cut this stuff off.”

Tate frowned. “Your hands will heal, and then you’d be sorry you cut your hair. You’re bound to have friends in the gym. They’ll help. I’ll help. You aren’t going through this alone.”

“Yes, ma’am, Tate is right,” Wade said. “It will all work out. You’ll see.”

“There’s a really nice lady named Laura with the Red Cross. I’ll introduce you,” Cameron added.

Wade grinned. “Oh, yeah? Is she pretty, too?”

Cameron glared. “Shut up, Luckett. This is about helping Miss Landry, so get your mind out of the gutter.”

Wade chuckled.

“I would appreciate it if the lot of you quit calling me Miss Landry and just stuck to Nola,” she said.

“We’re here,” Tate said as Cameron pulled up and parked.

Nola stared. “Where did all these people come from?”

“Some with the Red Cross, others are volunteers and survivors of the flood,” Tate said.

Her eyes welled. “The last time I was here was just a couple of months ago, for homecoming. Angie Durant’s daughter, Bonnie, was crowned homecoming queen. They would have been flooded out, too. I wonder if they’re here?”

“Let’s go inside and find out, okay?” he said.

Nola ignored the hand he offered and got herself out of the car, then walked into the gym with her chin up and stopped, shocked into silence by the sight.

There were cots and sleeping bags in neat, crowded rows, and people everywhere. Tables stood against the back wall, loaded down with bottled water, and boxes and boxes of diapers.

“Oh, my God!” she said.

Tate put a hand in the middle of her back. “The good part is that you’re alive, not down in the morgue.”

She shrugged away from his touch.

He sighed. “Let’s get you signed in at the office, so they can get you settled.”

A baby cried nearby, and somewhere farther down in the gym another answered with a cry of its own. She wanted to cry with them.

Cameron was already in the office when they walked in. He smiled at Nola.

“There she is,” he said. “Nola, this is Laura Doyle. I was telling her a bit about what you need. She’ll get you some clothes and food, and a place to sleep, okay?”

Nola nodded as a pretty young woman with short blond hair approached.

“Hi, Nola. You come with me and, as my granny used to say, we’ll let these men get back to their rat killing.”

Nola smiled. “My aunt Frannie used to say the same thing.”

Laura laughed. “The South is a fine place, is it not? Except maybe for floods and tornadoes, and hurricanes and gators.”

When Tate walked away, he kept thinking he was forgetting something. And then it hit him, and he made a quick run back into the office and found the women in the back room where the clothing was stored.

“Hey, Nola, one more thing.” When she waited for him to speak, he added, “In private.”

She went to the doorway. “What?”

He ignored the snap in her tone and lowered his voice.

“Right now, all anyone knows about you is that you are just another flood victim. Don’t talk about what you saw and hopefully it won’t get out, understand?”

She nodded, her eyes widening fearfully, and just like that, she was reminded of her precarious position.

Tate felt her fear. “And don’t worry. We’re not going anywhere. We’re staying here, too, so if you feel uncomfortable in any way, find one of us immediately. Okay?”

She looked away as her eyes filled with tears.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “All I seem to do these days is cry.”

He cupped her face. Whether she liked it or not, he needed to touch her.

“Don’t, Nola.... If I’d been through what you went through, I’d be crying, too. Don’t apologize for anything, and remember, we’ve got your back.”

She wanted to throw herself in his arms. She chalked the feeling up to being worn out and scared, but when he walked away, she struggled with the urge to follow.

“Nola?”

She jumped. She’d forgotten all about Laura and the clothes.

“I’m sorry. I’m coming,” Nola said.

Four

N
ola now had three pairs of jeans and an equal number of T-shirts, along with one lightweight jacket and a pair of tennis shoes. Walking back through the gym, making her way through the rows and rows of cots, carrying her secondhand clothes, dodging kids playing and waving at friends who were already there, she began to realize how really blessed they all were. They had survived what insurance companies would call “an act of God,” knowing full well it was by the grace of God they had been saved.

The Red Cross had given her a pillow and a blanket, and assigned her to a cot in the corner next to the FBI agents. When she’d raised her eyebrows about the location, Laura had whispered in her ear that Agent Winger had requested it.

Nola didn’t argue, and thankfully Laura didn’t comment one way or the other about the oddity of the request. At the moment, all three of the agents were gone and Nola was relieved. Being around Tate was harder than she would have imagined. All these years she’d been so angry and hurt at the way they had parted. Now she was just disgusted with herself that the attraction was still there.

She’d heard enough conversation between them on the drive home to know that their field office was at the police station, so she assumed that was where they were.

As soon as she changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she stashed the rest of what they’d given her under the cot. She had one more task to finish and was going to need help, so she began walking through the crowded gym, looking for a familiar face. When she saw Delores Brim, who had been one of her mother’s friends, she headed toward her.

Delores saw her coming and stood abruptly.

“Nola! Oh, honey, I worried about you. Did it take your house?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nola said. “What about you and Joe?”

“We don’t know. We evacuated early on. We haven’t been back.”

“I need to ask a favor of you. Would you please braid my hair? Just one long braid down my back. My hands are still too stiff to do it myself.”

Delores grabbed Nola’s hands and turned them over, saw the abrasions and the bandages on her wrists, and began to cry.

“What happened to you?”

“I didn’t get out in time. It was a while before I was rescued.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. You must have been scared out of your mind. Of course I’ll braid your hair. Come sit down on my bed. It won’t take long.”

Nola handed her the elastic band for her hair.

“I don’t have a brush or comb. Just do what you can and I’ll be happy.”

Delores chattered as she worked, talking to Nola about how others had made it through the flood as she combed her hair with her fingers, and she soon had the braid finished and tied off.

“There you go, honey. You have the prettiest hair. Puts me in mind of your mama’s when she was young. Thick and dark, and just a little bit of curl.”

“Thank you so much,” Nola said, and gave her a hug. “I’ll see you around. I’ve got to run a couple of errands.”

The braid bounced against Nola’s back as she walked out. She paused to eye the sky for signs of rain and then headed uptown to the bank. When she finally arrived her legs were shaking, a sign she hadn’t regained her full strength.

Betty Watts, one of her high school classmates, now worked as a teller. When she saw Nola come in, she waved her over.

“Hey, Nola, how’s it going?”

“Hi, Betty. Actually, not so good. I lost my home.”

“Oh, honey! I hadn’t heard! I’m so sorry. Is that why your face is all scratched up?”

Nola nodded. “The National Guard pulled me out of a tree. I’m happy to still be here.”

Betty reached for her hands and then stopped.

“Oh, my gosh. Your poor hands. Honey! Is there anything I can do?”

“I need to withdraw some money from my account, but I’ve lost my checks and my debit card...everything. Can you help me?”

“Absolutely.”

Within a few minutes Nola had cash in her pocket and was on the way to putting her world back in order. Now that she had money, she walked up another block to the Dollar Store for underwear, new hair bands, a hairbrush and some toiletries. It wasn’t her venue of choice, but in a small town, you took what you could get and the Dollar Store was it. It was nearing sundown when she got back to the gym. When she walked past the office, Tate all but leaped out of the room and grabbed her arm.

“Where have you been?”

She pulled her arm free. “The bank and the Dollar Store. Where have
you
been?”

He winced. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I just... We didn’t...”

She grabbed his arm and pulled him outside. Every local person in the gym knew the history between them. She’d already caught some curious glances, and what she had to say didn’t need to be overheard.

“Look, we don’t owe each other anything. I appreciate the reason you’re here, but I don’t think I’m in any danger in broad daylight. I have enough sense not to get in cars with strangers and no one knows what I saw, so you do your thing and I’ll do mine. When it’s over, you’ll be gone just like before.”

Tate wanted to shake her, but he could tell by the jut of her chin that she wasn’t going to budge. He’d burned his bridges with her and had no one to blame but himself.

“Fine. I hear you. Now
you
hear
me.
The Tidewater police know what you saw and they told the police here. And secrets like that don’t stay secret long. The Stormchaser isn’t someone to fuck with, Nola. So all I’m asking is if you leave the gym, let someone know so I won’t have to imagine you with a bullet hole in
your
head, too. Deal?”

“Yes. Fine.”

She walked past him and inside, carried her purchases to her cot and stowed them under it, then went to find Laura.

“Hey, there you are,” Laura said as she saw Nola walking through the gym.

“I’m a little shaky, but I don’t like to sit and do nothing. Is there anything I can do to help?” Nola asked.

Laura pointed at a pair of middle-aged women who were standing over a small four-burner stove in the concession area.

“Ask Peg or Mary. They’re in charge.”

Nola eyed the women, noting their matching curly perms and copper-red hair. If the number of wrinkles on their faces had anything to do with their ages, their hair was obviously dyed. She walked in and leaned across the counter.

“Excuse me. Laura said I should ask Peg and Mary if there’s anything I can do to help.”

The taller woman turned around.

“What’s your name, girl?”

“Nola.”

“Hi, Nola. I’m Peg. She’s Mary. We look alike because we’re sisters. She’s older, which is why I’m prettier, but she’s smarter, which is why I’m chopping onions and she’s not.”

Nola laughed out loud.

Both women laughed with her, and then Mary noticed the condition of her hands and wrists.

“Since you’re still bandaged up, you can’t be handling food, but when we begin to serve, you can hand out water bottles. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“As for right now, take a seat and talk to us. We haven’t heard a good story all day. What’s yours?”

Nola sat. “I spent the flood up a tree. How does that grab you?”

Both women turned around. “For real?”

“For real.”

“What about your home?”

“Gone, same as most everyone else who’s here.”

“Sorry, honey,” Mary said.

Nola shrugged. “Me, too.”

Peg grabbed another onion. “What do you do? For a living, I mean.”

“I’m an artist. My work is in a half-dozen galleries in the state, and I work on commission, too.”

Both women stopped again. “For real?”

Nola grinned. “For real.”

“Do you paint naked people?” Peg asked.

Nola’s smile widened. “I’m sorry to say I’ve never had the pleasure.”

“I might have you do a nude of me. I could give it to my husband, George, to hang over the bar in his man cave,” Peg said.

Mary giggled.

Nola grinned.

When it came time to serve the food, Nola felt as close to normal as she had in a week. She moved to the far end of the food line and was waiting for the first diners to reach her when a sixty-something man wearing black sweats and an Alabama T-shirt came out of the storage room pushing a dolly loaded with more cases of bottled water. He had a crescent-shaped scar on the side of his neck and dimples in his cheeks, and his head was as shiny as his face.

Another man in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt was following him. He was stocky and middle-aged, with a gray ponytail and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

The bald-headed man spoke first.

“Hey there. You’re a new face. I’m Bill, and he’s Leon,” he said, and he and Leon began unloading the cases behind the table.

“I’m Nola.”

Leon just nodded, but Bill smiled.

“Nice to meet you, Nola. Peg sent me over here to help you. She said you’re not to be lifting stuff, so when you need new stock, Leon or I will get it for you.”

“Okay,” Nola said.

He grinned. “No problem. Truth is I’m a little scared of Peg and Mary. When they tell me to do something, I bust a move to make it happen.”

“They’re both amazing,” she said, including Leon in her comment, but his gaze was blank as he turned away.

Bill tapped her shoulder, then pointed down the line.

“Here come our customers. Since their hands are full, all you have to do is place the bottle on their tray.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Bill opened extra cases three times during the meal, and Leon set them up until the line of people straggled to an end.

“Now
you
eat,” Bill said. “Grab a bottle of water and go back to the kitchen. We’ll pack up what’s left.”

“Thank you for the help,” Nola said.

“No problem.”

She took the water as she started toward the kitchen when Wade Luckett waved her down.

“What’s up?” she asked, as he caught up with her.

“Tate said you like shrimp po’boys. If you haven’t already eaten, we brought you one. We appreciate being able to bunk here, but we don’t want to use up the food that’s been provided for the victims, so we get our own. If you don’t want it, I’ll eat it along with mine.”

She wondered about the wisdom of fraternizing with Tate and his agents, then thought, what the hell. She was sleeping beside them. Surely she could share a meal, as well.

“I do like them, and I’ll take it, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind...but I’m not too proud to eat leftovers, either, if you can’t eat it all.”

Nola grinned. She liked Wade. He was easygoing and funny—like Tate used to be.

“Follow me,” he said, and led the way back to the cots.

Tate and Cameron had turned a box upside down to make a table and were digging sandwiches out of a big sack when they walked up.

“She wants one,” Wade said. “I tried to talk her out of it, but she stayed firm. However, I called leftovers if she has any.”

Tate accepted the jealousy he was feeling as inevitable and turned away.

Cameron handed her a sandwich. “Here you go. Have a seat. We have things to talk about.”

* * *

Back in the kitchen, Peg was looking for Nola as Leon took a bowl of chili from the counter and sat down away from the others.

“Where’s the girl? Doesn’t she know to come back here to get her food?”

“I told her,” Bill said as he added salt to his own bowl.

“That doesn’t need salt,” Mary said.

“Does so,” he said, and covered it liberally.

Mary glared.

Peg walked to the doorway and looked out across the gym, saw Nola sitting with the FBI agents and then went back inside.

“She’s eating with the Feds,” she said.

Mary frowned.

Bill snuck an extra handful of crackers, crushed them on top of his chili and quickly stirred them in before the women saw him.

“Why are the Feds here?” he asked as he took a big bite.

“I have no idea,” Peg said as Laura walked in.

“Do we have any left?” Laura asked.

“Enough for you,” Mary said.

A minute later Laura took a bite of her chili and then reached for the salt.

Bill laughed when Mary gave Laura a hard look, too.

“What?” Laura asked.

“Nothing,” Mary said. “So why are the Feds here?”

Laura shrugged. “It has to do with some of the bodies they recovered from the flood, but other than that, I’m not sure.”

Leon glanced up. “They’re here because of that Stormchaser dude. They were in Natchez, too. I saw them on the news.”

“So why is Nola eating with them?”

Laura smiled. “Now that I
do
know. One of the agents grew up here. They’re friends.”

Peg nodded. “That makes sense.”

“So, Laura, what’s on our to-do list tonight?” Bill asked.

“Just carrying out the garbage and that’s it for the evening. You’ve both been working like slaves, anyway. We’re expecting a new shipment of supplies tomorrow, so we’ll have to unload that when it arrives.”

Bill nodded. “Okay, thanks. At my age, I can use a couple extra hours of sleep.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Leon said.

“Where’s Judd Allen?” Peg asked. “He usually helps you with the lifting.”

“I don’t know,” Bill said. “I haven’t seen him all day. Have you seen him, Leon?”

Leon shook his head.

“Well, when he shows up, tell him I need to talk to him,” Peg said.

Bill waved his spoon to acknowledge the order and finished off his food. He dumped the plastic bowl and spoon in the trash, and headed out into the gym with Leon at his heels.

Mary eyed him curiously. “Leon’s a strange one, but Bill isn’t a bad-looking guy, if you don’t mind a bald head and a few wrinkles,” she added.

Peg frowned. “Bill is a little bit bowlegged.”

“And what does that have to do with anything?” Laura asked.

Mary giggled. “Peg’s first husband was bowlegged. He cheated on her, so she doesn’t trust bowlegged men.”

Laura grinned. These two women made her day. “I have some reports to write up, so I’m going to take my food back to the office. Great job, you two.” She grabbed an apple on her way out.

* * *

Across the room, Cameron saw Laura leaving the kitchen and watched her walk all the way through the gym until she disappeared around the corner before he turned back to the conversation in progress.