Mississippi Blues (8 page)

“Because after what happened to your mama, you would never do the same thing to someone. Especially after what you did to the man who hurt her.” Her big eyes looked as trusting as Bambi's.

“You don't know anything about me or my mother.” Rage filled him. How dare she judge him? “So just shut the fuck up.”

“I know all about you and your family.” She went on as if he hadn't just spoke to her like she was a bad dog. Hardened men on the inside had backed down from his tone of voice.

“How? From the newspaper? Because I sure the hell don't know you.” He racked his brain, trying to place her, but nothing came to mind.

“I know you.” Her big brown eyes filled with tears. “It's so sad.”

“Who's your daddy? Another Lookie-Lou with an opinion about me? Probably just someone shooting off at the mouth.” Bitterness filled him as he remembered all the people who crowded into the courthouse during his trial, most there for the entertainment of seeing him go down.

“Don't you recognize me?” She lifted her head and their gazes locked. “I'm Lindy Bouché.”

“No way. You're lying.” Incredulous, he remembered the little girl who'd followed on his heels like a stray pup. She had been a twig. He'd only caught a glimpse of her spectacular tits, but this girl was all grown up. Damn. Time had sure changed her. “You're what, sixteen — seventeen now? You were just a kid when I left.”

“I'm eighteen, not a kid anymore.” She moved to open the blanket. “Need me to prove it?”

His ripple of disbelief quickly turned to rage. He grabbed her arm through the blanket and jerked her toward him. He wouldn't hurt her physically, but he could cut her with his mouth. “No, I don't want to see your itty-bitty titties.”

A moment of fear filled her eyes, replaced by anger matching his. “You bastard.”

“You got that right.” He dropped her arm like it was diseased. If she only knew how bad his cock was calling her name, she'd run away faster than a bullet, screaming all the way. “Get out of here. I'm sure you can't wait to run to your daddy and tell him where I am. Well, you can walk back to town. That'll give you a good long time to think up an excuse for being out in the woods with some guy who had only a fast lay on his mind.”

“I won't tell the Chief anything.” Her eyes flashed fire and her cheeks blazed an angry red. She moved away from him, drawing her blanket tight.

“Yeah, right.” He chuckled without humor. “Forgive me if I don't believe you. The last time I trusted a Bouché to keep their mouth shut, I found myself doing time for life.”

“I'm not Trey, and the Chief doesn't talk to me. He's not interested in anything I have to say. Even if I marched in there tonight and said ‘guess what, I have Jace Hill outside,' no one would notice.”

“I think he might want to hear you've found out where I am. What a great way to get Daddy's attention, huh?” He resisted the urge to shake her. Spoiled rotten brat had ruined everything. Now he had nowhere to hide and form a plan.

“I won't say anything. I promise.” The fire in her big eyes was replaced with something he couldn't place. Pleading?

He refused to soften. “You're lying. You'll start blabbing the minute you get home.” He pointed to the door. “Leave.”

“I won't.” She jutted out her chin daring him to touch her. “You can't make me.”

“You'll go if I have to throw you overboard.”

“You wouldn't.” Her words were brave, but there was a shadow of doubt in her eyes.

Had Angola made him into such a prick that he'd rescue a girl only to scare her to death? Shit, why wouldn't she just go away? “There are clothes in the closet. Put something on,” he ordered.

He reached for the blanket and she dodged away, the blanket catching on the edge of the door. Unprepared to catch it, the material fell to the floor. Lifting her chin, she stared defiantly at him. God help him, he should've looked away, but his eyes refused to obey. She stood nearly nude before him, her hands at her sides. Her bra was twisted around her waist, her panties and skirt hung from her hips. Red welts and scratches covered her pale skin and dried blood covered her right breast.

Jace's stomach rolled and bile rose in his throat at the sight.

He should've killed the motherfucker who did this to her.

When he caught up to the bastard who raped his mother, he gave him a beating the guy deserved, but he hadn't killed him. Jace's resolve to find out who had murdered Deke Soloman grew. Although the bastard deserved to die, Jace hadn't done it. He couldn't stand to look at Lindy another second.

“Put something on.” She refused to move until he advanced another inch with a steely glare. “Move.”

She dove by him and did as he told her.

While she dressed, he gathered his jumpsuit and the remnants of the chains he'd filed off and crammed them in a cooler and secured it with a bungee cord. With a quick look over his shoulder, he slipped outside and tossed it overboard. He watched as it sank out of sight then went back inside and found matches, flashlight, a change of clothes, and all the food on the boat. All went in a pile. He grabbed the first aid kit and added it too. Gathering all, he stuffed it in a duffle bag. He pounded on the bathroom door. “Let's go.”

Obviously reluctant, Lindy came out of the bedroom wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a man's T-shirt that hung past her hips. On her feet, she wore a pair of flip-flops that looked two sizes too big. “Happy? I look like a clown.”

With huge clothing and dark rings of mascara rimming her eyes, she still looked good as Mama's cornbread smothered in honey to him. “You're not going to a beauty contest.” He motioned toward the door. “Now haul your ass. You're going home and I'm going to find the killer who ruined my life.”

She shuffled out the door holding her too-big pants up with both hands. “Not without me.”

Trey couldn't sleep.

He tossed and turned, unable to put a finger on exactly what was bugging him. Rolling over, he checked his watch. Two in the morning. The Chief seemed invincible, but Trey knew he worried about Jace's return. Plus, his wife's illness had to be wearing him down. Then there was Lindy. The Chief wanted her to stay in the house, but she had done what she pleased and left in a huff again.

Had she come home yet? Trey hadn't heard her come in. She had been gone over four hours, and no one including him, even worried about her. Suddenly wide awake, he got up and dressed in the dark. Sick at heart, he went to her room and knocked. She didn't answer. He eased open the door and looked inside. As he feared, she wasn't there. She was probably at someone's graduation party. They hadn't even eaten a slice of cake for her big day. Maybe he could make it up to her.

Slipping out of the house, he went to the garage and backed out the gleaming red Mustang. The car had been his pride and joy. He'd found her at an auction, bought her for a song and he, Jody, and Jace had restored her. A vintage '69, cherry red with a big block engine, she was any guy's fantasy.

He flipped on the radio, tuning it to a blues station. Ray Charles came on wailing the last few bars of “Georgia
.
”
Trey sang along when B.B. King took over with “How Blue Can You Get?”

He left his window down, the warm night air flowing over his left arm. Even at this late hour, the humidity hadn't faded. The night was lit with a million bright stars and an orange-pink quarter moon hung low in the sky. Evenings like this often reminded him of his sole night with Summer. As hard as he tried to forget, he couldn't get her out of his mind. He shook off his longing. She'd made it more than clear she didn't want him in her life.

She would never face the fact Jace deserved his prison sentence.

Trey cruised by Tango's, not expecting to find his sister there. When he had been a kid, the proprietor had been a go-by-the book kind of guy. Not very likely to allow underage drinkers in his place. Especially the Chief's daughter. Trey briefly considered Mugs-n-Jugs, but quickly discounted the idea. The bar was a known hangout for toughs and lowlifes. Lindy was too young to be admitted there.

That left Daisy's. He seriously doubted Lindy would be let in there either, but he decided to check anyway. There wasn't any sign of her bright yellow Jeep in the parking lot, but Jody's dark green SUV sat there. Trey pulled along the big car, parked, and went inside.

He walked to the bar and ordered a beer from a petite girl with curly dark hair wearing a low-cut top that showed off breasts pushed so high they nearly touched her chin. As she handed him a longneck, deliberately letting her fingers brush his, she winked.

“Thanks.” Ignoring her come-on, he laid a five on the bar, turned and leaned against the counter and did a quick perusal of the room. Several couples swayed to a band playing a country tune. No sign of Lindy.

He recognized a few other people. A guy he'd gone to school with, a young woman who looked familiar but he couldn't place her. No one he wanted to talk to right now. Maybe later when he had more time and less on his mind.

He turned and spotted Jody across the room. He wore civilian clothes, not his police uniform. Trey took a deep swig of his beer then headed that direction when the song came to an end.

Jody met him halfway. “Hey. What's up?”

“Why aren't you on the lookout for Jace?” Had the force gone to hell in a handbasket? It looked that way — if the officers were out partying when there was a convicted killer on the loose.

“The Chief wants to me to lay low and see if I hear anything. I thought I might pick up some interesting gossip in here.” Jody took a sip of his Coke. “How about a beer? Catch up?”

Trey shook his head. “Thanks, I can't. I'm looking for Lindy. Have you seen her?”

“No. Not here. But Daisy's doesn't allow underage drinkers.”

Trey shrugged. “Yeah, I figured this was a long shot. I just thought I'd check it out. She's not home, and with Jace on the loose, I'm worried.”

“Try the quarry. That's where the kids party. You ought to know that, man. You haven't been gone that long, have you?” Jody tipped his glass and swallowed the last chunk of ice.

“Yeah, I'll try out there. Have you seen anything interesting tonight? Heard anything about Hill?”

Jody glanced around as if he might spot him lurking in the corner. “Jace?”

“Yeah. Who else?” Trey wondered if his old friend had been drinking.

“Just thought you might be thinking of his fine lookin' sister.” Jody grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Will you let it go?” Trey turned to let someone by and bumped into him. “Pardon me.”

An attractive redhead reached out with a slim hand to brush his shirt where part of her drink had spilled on him. “I'm so sorry.”

He glanced up from the dark, damp stain on his gray T-shirt into a pair of friendly blue eyes appraising him. He read the open invitation she was offering. He moved away from her caress. “No problem.”

Taking the gentle brush-off, she gave him a smile full of regret and moved on.

Jody swirled his glass. “You can deny it all you want, but the lady was doing everything but climbing on top of you. All you could think of was a certain blonde. I saw it on your face.”

Trey swallowed a wave of irritation. “You're the one who's obsessed with Summer. You bring her up every time I see you. Maybe you ought to take a shot.”

Jody's shook his head. “No way. I'm with Lilah, and I ain't the kind to stray. Besides, vanilla isn't my flavor. I like hot chocolate better.”

Trey smiled. “I'm not interested anymore, okay?”

Giving his head a shake Jody said, “Sure. You just proved my point. You got your back all up at the mention of the lady. What's holding you back from getting with her?”

Why wouldn't he let it go? Trey ran a hand across the back of his neck, wishing the knot there would go away. “Our history.”

“History? What the hell's the past got to do with the way a man feels?” Jody looked at him like he'd lost his mind. “Listen to what your heart, your cock, or both are telling you. Go for it. History be damned.”

“It's not that simple. I have no chance of overcoming what happened with MiLann, Jace, and everything in between. Even if Summer could get past all that, there's still the fact her brother was behind bars — where I helped put him — and she doesn't believe he should be there. Unless she faces the truth, there's no hope. And that's never going to happen.”

Jody's mouth fell open. “From what I know of the case, it was open and shut. You ought to know that, seeing how you're the one who found Hill with bloody hands. Justice prevailed.”

Trey didn't need reminding. “Yeah, I know.”

“Then what is Summer hoping for? A miracle?” Jody held his arms wide, hands palms up like a roaming snake oil preacher. “Get real.”

Realizing he'd already revealed too much, Trey shrugged. “She believes he was set up.”

“By who? You? Jace was our best friend. Your old man? Why would the Chief do that? Summer's reaching for something she can't grab onto.” Jody shook his head. “Man, that's just crazy. Maybe her mama isn't the only one who isn't firing on all cylinders.”

“Summer's as sane as you or I, but she doesn't see the conviction the way we do.” Trey wished he'd never said anything. He felt disloyal for talking about her.

His old friend slapped him on the back. “I'd tell her the same thing I told you before — let it go. There's no point holding onto a lot of old crap that can only make you feel bad. I need a beer.”

Relieved Jody dropped the subject, Trey said, “Right now, the only thing that's making me feel rotten is my sister. Do you know she didn't even have a party? No presents. Nothing. I know the Chief is worried about Jace, and my mother's health is too bad to have a big celebration, but someone could've at least bought a few flowers or balloons. I think I'll get back on the hunt.”