Bayou Treasure Page 4
He had phoned his father’s staff earlier to tell them he was going to be out of the country for a couple of weeks on holiday. He simply omitted the fact it was forced leave. The last thing he wanted to do was try to explain this situation to his father. Hell, he couldn’t explain it to himself.
In nine years, he’d never done anything so blatantly against regulations. Then one encounter with Ms. Marie Bernard and he as good as shredded the regulation manual. It was shocking enough he’d ignored years of training because of a woman. But to make matters worse, he’d broken his own rules about engaged women. If he was going to throw his career away, he should have been smart enough to do it for a woman with whom he could have a future.
Future? Where’d that thought come from? Marie Bernard, that’s where. She was the type who made men think like that. She inspired dreams of long summer nights tangled together in cool sheets, and days spent chasing happy laughing children around a yard. He didn’t want that kind of relationship…wasn’t made for a life like that.
LD looked around the waiting area and couldn’t help but notice the many unattached females waiting for the same flight to the sunny Caribbean. It shouldn’t be too hard to put one dark-eyed, dark-haired woman out of his mind, he thought, catching the gaze of a green-eyed blond.
No depth. LD continued to search the crowd for a woman who interested him. Each time his eyes lingered on a new face, a rejection immediately popped into his head. After the tenth dismissal, he realized he was comparing each woman to the unattainable Ms. Bernard.
The vibrating of his cell phone was a welcome distraction from his thoughts. “Carmouche.”
“Well, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
Pushing away from the wall, LD’s hand tightened around the phone. “Who is this?”
“Now you’ve gone and hurt my feelings.”
Perspiration broke out on his forehead. Suddenly, he was back in the middle of a never-ending nightmare. “Black? I thought you were dead.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“What do you want?”
“Revenge.”
“You had yours.”
“No, that was business and I was paid well for it.” Black gave a short laugh. “I didn’t know you’d be in Boston. Imagine my surprise.” Black’s normally cultured voice turned cold and hard. “Now that I’ve found you again, I won’t waste this opportunity to make you bleed.”
LD turned a slow circle, scanning the crowd. “Come get me. You can watch me bleed all you want.”
There was a low chuckle on the other end of the line. “That would be too easy. If I only wanted you dead, I could take care of you right now. Don’t look so surprised, Carmouche. I see you standing there in your jeans, Tulane sweatshirt and Saints ball cap.”
LD began walking the terminal, searching the crowd as panic beat at his heart. “Then let’s finish this now. Stop hiding like the coward you are.”
Silence met his challenge and for a brief moment he wondered if Black had disconnected.
“Tempting, but I don’t think so. Wouldn’t be any fun, now would it? You see, I want to see anguish etched across your face when you realize that you’ve lost your reason for living. I want you broken to the point that you beg me to kill you. That you hurt so much, you want to put a gun to your own head and pull the trigger. Then, if I’m feeling generous, I’ll kill you.”
“Bastard.” LD circled back to his bag and stopped. Cold sweat ran down his spine as the hair on the back of his neck prickled.
“So I’ve been told. I must be on my way. I’m looking forward to going home and enjoying some down-home Cajun cooking. I might even have to do some antiquing while I’m there. Have fun in the Caribbean.”
Visions of Laura flashed through LD’s mind before the dial tone brought him back to reality. No, not Laura. This time, Marie. Black’s going after Marie. Grabbing his duffle bag, LD raced through the terminal, back toward the ticket counter even as he dialed the phone.
Not Marie. Not Marie.
The words chanted through his head like a broken record. The mantra ended when the phone was answered.
“I need a flight to New Orleans.”
* * * * *
“You screwed me this time. If it happens again, I’m coming after you.” Black paused and looked up at the waitress in the airport lounge, smiling as he accepted the drink she held.
The voice on the other end sputtered and coughed. “W-What do you mean?”
Black continued to smile as he watched the waitress move away. He heard the waver in the man’s voice, despite his best effort to sound insulted and not scared. “Does the name LD Carmouche ring a bell?”
Silence was the only response he received. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought the phone had been disconnected. But the little man on the other end didn’t have the balls to hang up on him. Sipping his drink, Black allowed the silence to continue. When he’d grown bored, he spoke again. “Why wasn’t I told he would be there?”
“W-where?”
“Boston, you moron.”
“How was I to know?”
“You told me he was in D.C.”
“That’s what I’d been told.”
“You said you have an inside track on this information. There is no room for error, mistakes like this will bring your house of cards tumbling down around you.”
“His father never talks about him. The information I get is second hand.”
“Nevertheless, I should have been informed. His presence in Boston compromised the assignment.”
“Am I to assume the job wasn’t completed?”
“Correct.”
“But it will be soon?”
Black gritted his teeth. The man rode on the coattails of others and yet never realized he wasn’t the driver. “Yes, I’ll be in New Orleans shortly to take care of the problem.”
“No. That’s not good. As I told you before, this can’t be done so close to home.”
“Well now, you should have thought about that before you used a local courier.”
“True, true, but at the time I thought it would work. That there wouldn’t be these issues.”
Amateur. Nothing worse, or more dangerous, than cleaning up someone else’s screwup. “Now you have me to fix your problem and I will. So relax.”
“I never thought you wouldn’t.”
“Of course.” And as we speak, you’re sweating through that hundred-dollar linen shirt you bought with dirty money, but no, you’re not concerned. “I’ll call again.”
“When?”
“When I feel like it.”
“But…”
Black disconnected the call and took a sip of his drink. Thinking back over the conversation, he laughed. He almost turned down this job on principle. He didn’t work for mama’s boys, but the possibilities above and beyond this project were too great. Those opportunities were the selling points. The man paying his salary wasn’t smart enough to realize he had his own agenda. The pieces were falling into place better than he ever hoped. Smiling, Black motioned to the waitress for a new drink as he dialed another number.
* * * * *
New Orleans, Louisiana
French Quarter
“Bernard Antiquities, may I help you?” Marie spoke automatically into the phone as she studied the store’s inventory log.
“Marie Bernard, please.” The voice was smooth and cultured, like one who came from old money.
“Speaking, how may I help you?”
“You have something I want.”
“I do?” Marie closed the inventory file and focused her attention on the conversation. The voice sounded vaguely familiar. Unfortunately, concentration was not her strong suit today, and she chastised herself once again for coming to work instead of staying home after a sleepless night. Her brain felt fuzzy and the stress from the attack was taking its toll on her body. But if she was honest with herself, and she was trying not to be, her lack of focus had nothing to do with no sl
eep or the attack and everything to do with LD Carmouche.
“You recently received a shipment from London.”
“Yes, we did. There are still a few pieces available if you’re interested in English antiques. I must warn you the best items have already been sold.”
The man on the phone laughed. “Buy them? No, I’m not interested in buying any old furniture. My taste runs more to the modern.”
“If you don’t wish to purchase any items, then what is it you want?”
“I’m interested in what’s inside the pieces. You see, I placed some, oh, how shall I put it? I stored some personal property inside a few of the items you purchased, which you so very generously shipped to America for me. Unfortunately, before I could retrieve my belongings, you sold most of the pieces.”
She’d heard about dealers inadvertently smuggling drugs and other illegal imports into the country like this, but never thought it would happen to her. An uneasy feeling settled over her. “Black.”
“I knew you were a smart one from the moment I spotted you outside the Bostonian, Ms. Bernard. Didn’t figure it would take you long to put the pieces together.”
Marie’s hand shook violently as she pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. Boston wasn’t a case of mistaken identity or bad luck. No, this was a living, breathing boogeyman who’d followed her home. Slamming the phone down, she reached for her purse. She needed that business card—now. The phone rang before she could find the number. Her mouth went dry as she answered, “Hello.”
“If you ever hang up on me again, I’ll be forced to punish you. Understand?”
“Y-yes. What do you want?”
“It’s not what I want, it’s what I require. You will retrieve my merchandise for me.”
Drugs. Oh God, somehow she’d gotten mixed up with drug dealers. “And if I don’t?”
There was a slight pause on the other end of the phone and Marie could hear the whispers as another conversation took place. Then the voice returned. “I was afraid you would not be easily convinced, but I’m sure we can overcome this hurdle.”
“You can’t threaten me. I’ll go to the police.”
A disembodied laugh floated across the airway, causing Marie’s legs to shake. “We’ve delivered a package to your back door, Ms. Bernard. Why don’t you go check on it? And Marie, don’t tell anyone about our little conversation.”
The phone went dead before Marie could respond. Moving in a dreamlike state, she walked toward the back entrance. Her hand shook when she extended it to open the door.
“Timothy!”
Marie’s cry brought other store workers running as she dropped to her knees. “Call an ambulance!” she shouted as she grabbed a proffered towel and pressed it to the gash above her brother’s eye.
She held pressure to the head wound with one hand, while the other traveled over his body looking for additional injuries. Tim moaned when her hand touched his rib cage. Drawing back her hand, she looked for blood and saw none. God, she hoped that was a good sign, but there was always the possibility of internal bleeding.
It was then she saw the note pinned to Tim’s shirt. Ripping it off, she read.
Next time—Tammie.
Chapter Four
Marie paced her living room. The last few hours had been terrifying and exhausting—yet she couldn’t sit still. Tim’s injuries were not serious, thank God. He’d been released from the hospital after a few hours and told to rest for a day or two. He’d finally tired of Marie and Tammie’s fussing and sent them home. He was now back at his apartment being waited on hand and foot by his girlfriend and loving it.
Nervous energy raged through Marie’s body, making her jittery. Forcing herself to stop, she looked down at the two pieces of paper she held and again felt torn by indecision.
LD’s business card was in her right hand. Yesterday morning, he’d written his cell phone number on the back and handed it to her, telling her to call if she needed anything. It was hard to believe that was a little over twenty-four hours ago and now she wanted nothing more than to have him rescue her again.
In her left hand was the reminder why she couldn’t call him. The words were etched in her brain, flashing like a neon sign. If the threat were only against her, she’d tell the authorities and worry about the consequences later. But it wasn’t, and she had not spent the last ten years raising her siblings to endanger their lives now.
She knew then she’d do whatever that disembodied voice wanted. If he stayed away from her brother and sister, then he’d have her body and soul.
The grandfather clock in the foyer chimed the hour. Marie counted the bells. Nine o’clock. When would he call back? She wanted to get this over with.
The doorbell rang and Marie jumped as her heart pounded in her chest. Frozen in place, she stared at the door. They couldn’t know where she lived.
They couldn’t.
Again the doorbell sounded.
Taking a deep breath, Marie moved cautiously toward the door and looked through the glass. Releasing the breath she was holding, she opened the door and gave the deliveryman a shaky smile.
He smiled warmly back at her. “Sorry ma’am, I’m running late this evening.”
“That’s okay.” Signing for the package, she took it, then closed and locked the door behind her. Leaning against the wall, she hugged the package to her chest and fought to control her racing heart. She needed to get control of herself or she’d be no help to her family.
A shrill noise sounded from within the box and Marie screamed as she tossed the parcel across the room. Holding her breath she waited for the carton to explode.
The parcel emitted another piercing noise and this time she recognized the sound as the ringing of a cell phone. On shaky legs, she moved across the room and retrieved the box. Grabbing a corner of the lid, she ripped open the top.
Inside she found a cell phone resting on a bed of bubble wrap. It rang again. With an unsteady hand, she answered it. “H-Hello.”
“How is your brother?”
Her legs buckled under her. Sitting hard on the floor, Marie fought the rising tide of fear threatening to overwhelm her.
“Are you there, Marie?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I assume we’ve convinced you to work with us?”
“Yes. I’ll help you. Just tell me what to do.”
“That’s my girl. First, you will keep this phone with you at all times. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll need to search all the pieces from London still in your possession.”
“What am I looking for?”
“You’ll know it when you find it. Next, I want the names and addresses of everyone you sold any pieces of the shipment to. I want the list by tomorrow night.”
Marie’s heart skipped a beat. “But…”
“No questions, Marie. I’d hate for Tammie to have an accident.”
“I’ll get the list for you.”
“Good, that’s all for now. Sweet dreams.”
Dropping the phone to the floor, Marie wrapped her arms around her drawn up knees and began to rock. Oh God, the madman knew about her family, knew where she lived. Now she was at his beck and call, anytime, day or night.
The man wanted a list of customers who purchased items from that shipment. Obviously he meant to steal the pieces back, but if he did, then innocent people might be harmed.
The image of Tim, bloodied and beaten flashed through her mind then slowly transformed until it was Tammie’s face she saw. She stood and pushed the terrifying image to the back of her mind. Slamming the door on her conscience, she knew what she must do. She would protect her family at all cost.
Determined, she walked to the bottom stair and yelled, “Tammie!”
Upstairs a door opened and loud rock music poured out. “What?”
“I’m headed back to the store. Keep the doors locked and keep the security system turned on.”
“Okay.” Tammie
’s young voice carried over the music, firming her resolve.
She shoved the new cell phone into her purse, grabbed her jacket and locked the backdoor to the house before hurrying to her car. It was late, but she needed to get that customer report run before the next business day started. With cold indifference to those she might be hurting, Marie backed out of the driveway.
* * * * *
LD pounded on the front door of Bernard Antiquities in the French Quarter of New Orleans. He should have gotten a phone number from Marie’s sister when he’d spoken to her, but he’d been in too much of a hurry. Only a faint light showed through the stained glass and it appeared to come from the back of the store. LD waited for a group of tourists to pass him and round the corner before raising his fist to hammer on the door again. He froze when he heard a loud crash from inside the store followed by a muffled cry.
Heart pounding, he removed his gun from under his jacket. Using the grip to break out a pane of glass in the front door, he reached through. The keys for the double cylinder deadbolt were hanging in the lock on the other side. With a curse and a twist of the wrist, the door opened.
Shadows danced across the floor and walls in inconsistent patterns. An army could be hiding in the place and he wouldn’t be able to pick them out. LD crossed the room slowly, trying not to stumble into or knock over anything as he made his way toward the light.
“What are you doing here?”
Instinctively, LD crouched as he swung toward the voice behind him, drawing a bead on the source. Marie stood before him in the dimness, a screwdriver hanging from one hand. “Don’t you ever sneak up behind me again.”
“I wasn’t the one slinking around in the dark in a place I shouldn’t be, now was I?”
“No, you weren’t. You didn’t answer my knock, and then I heard a crash, so I let myself in.” LD nodded toward the door as he replaced his gun.
Marie turned, stiffened then started forward. “Oh no, you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.”
LD followed her. “I broke a pane of glass, but no big deal, you can call the repairman in the morning.”
There was a moment of silence before Marie spoke. “Would you please go to the back room and bring me the broom and dustpan. They’re just inside the door on the left-hand side.”