Night Game
Page 43

“My brothers and I worked. I joined the service and I still send most of my pay home. My brothers send a good portion of their paychecks as well. She raised us and loved us when she could have said it was too much for her. We were wild, Flame. She’s a good woman.”
“I know that, Raoul. It was a wonderful thing that you and your brothers did.”
He shook his head. “Naw, it was wonderful what she did for us.” He took the boat out into the open water so he could go much faster.
She looked around her at the beauty of the bayou and laughed with sheer joy. “I love it here.”
Gator expertly swung the boat into a narrow slough, one the boat barely fit through. “Me too. I’m not much for the city, cher.”
Her eyebrow shot up. “You think you’re shocking me with that admission? I had you pegged as a country boy. through and through.” She frowned, wishing he’d slow down as they rounded a corner and nearly hit the stump of an old cypress tree rising out of the shallow water. He zigzagged, scooting around the obstacle and shot back into the open channel.
“You having fun? I like this boat. You already tore up my motorcycle.”
“You tore up that bike,” he reminded.
“But it was your fault. You shouldn’t have given me keys.”
He laughed as they made another turn onto marshland, the airboat slowing to go over the watery land.
“What are you doing, you crazy man?”
His hand brushed hers until their fingers tangled together. “We’ve got a tail, Flame. He’s havin’ a hell of a tryin’ to keep up with us, but he’s following for sure.”
“Who is it? I could jump off here and wait for him,” she offered, all business.
“With your one arm?”
“Don’t you worry about me, Raoul. I can take care of myself, one arm or not. You keep that in mind the next time you want to try smacking my bare bottom.”
“Damn, cher.” He grinned at her, almost making her heart stop. “You’re giving me a hard-on just thinking about your pretty little ass. Now’s no time to be gettin’ me all hot and bothered.”
“Will you be serious? This is the perfect place for me ambush him.” She pulled her hand away from his and curled her fingers around the hilt of her knife.
His grin widened. “You’re so damned sexy, sugah. I love it when you talk dirty.”
“Raoul! Swing back around and let him get close enough so we can see who we’re dealing with.”
“I know who it is, I recognize the boat and the way he drives it. That’s Vicq Comeaux. He’s about as mean as they come, but he isn’t part of any of this.” Gator took the airboat back to the open water and poured on the gas so that they left the second boat far behind.
“He tried to kill you.”
He nodded. “So did you. It seems to be a hazard I have to deal with quite often.”
She frowned at him. “Maybe you should brush up on your people skills.” She glanced back at the boat. “Really. Raoul, let me have a go at him. He could creep up behind you someday and you’d never see it coming.”
His arm circled her neck, drawing her close enough that he could find her mouth again, kissing her hard and deep. “That’s what I love most. You’re such a blood thirsty little wench.”
“Do you ever take anything seriously?” she demanded.
He pulled back to look into her eyes. The grin disappeared and something dark and cold and lethal crept into his eyes. “I take what James Parsons did to you seriously. And I take what Whitney did to you very seriously. Don’ you worry, cher, when it counts, I’m deadly serious.”
CHAPTER 16
Nonny hugged Flame, dragged her into the house, and clucked over her broken arm. “Did Gator take care of you, cher?” she asked, with a quick smile for her grandson.
Flame blushed, uncertain what Raoul’s grandmother was asking. Surely she wasn’t inquiring as to whether or not he’d taken care of her sexual needs? It didn’t help that Raoul pressed against her back, his breath warm on the nape of her neck, both hands cupping her bottom right through her tight jeans. She smiled at Nonny and slapped at Gator’s hands behind her back.
“He was-unbelievable.” She found herself stammering.
“Unbelievable?” Wyatt echoed, his eyebrow shooting up. “He was unbelievable?”
Flame’s color deepened and she cast him a glare. “Astonishing.” That was worse. What was the matter with her? It wasn’t her fault, Raoul was distracting her with his roaming hands. He had a fixation with her butt and she was going to have to do something mean right there in his grandmother’s home if he didn’t stop. Did one get aroused in front of other people? She never had, but then that was before she met the Cajun king of perverts.
Gator put his lips against her ear. “Mind-blowing?” He helped her out. “Or maybe that was you.”
Flame cleared her throat. “I couldn’t believe how attentive he was last night, Ms. Fontenot.”
Wyatt burst out laughing. He nudged his brother “You were attentive. Just how attentive were you?”
“Remember, cher, you were going to call me Nonny.”
“Yes, of course.” Her temperature was rising right along with her color. It was so hot she wanted to fan herself. She kicked backward with her heel, driving it into Gator’s calf with a satisfying thud. “Thank you so much for the clothes, Nonny. They fit beautifully, even the shoes.”
Gator’s breath exploded out of his lungs and his hands came down on her shoulders hard. At least she knew where they were and he couldn’t distract her.
“My friend told me about a nice boutique for young women and they had everything. It made it easy to shop.” Nonny said. “I just made a cup of my special tea. Would you like some?”
Gator’s fingers began a slow massage along her collarbone and up toward the nape of her neck.
Flame’s face was bright red. She could feel the color, hot and bright, glowing like a neon banner for everyone to see. What nice shop? Did it specialize in sex toys? Did she dare drink the tea? It could contain an aphrodisiac. “I’d love a cup of tea.” Her voice nearly croaked.
“Are you certain you’re all right, cher?” Nonny asked. “Maybe you’ve gotten out of bed too soon. Raoul, maybe you should take her back to bed.”
Wyatt nudged his brother, winking. “Grand-mere wants you to take her back to bed.”
“Thas no way for a gentleman to talk, Wyatt,” Nonny reprimanded.
Wyatt grinned at her, clearly unrepentant.
Flame let out her breath in a long hiss promising retaliation. It had to be Wyatt who provided her night attire and the sex toys. She’d find a way to get even, but at least it enabled her to relax a little around Nonny.
“The kitchen is a mite crowded. The boys have been eating since they got here, Raoul. I don’ think those boys have had a good home-cooked meal in a long while.”
Flame stiffened. This was getting worse and worse. She had a feeling the “boys” weren’t Gator’s other two brothers.
“Grand-mere,” Gator said, kissing his grandmother on the forehead, “those boys have never had cookin’ like yours. You’re the best of the best and everyone in the bayou knows it. I can’t blame them for eating so much.”
“They’re good, polite boys,” Nonny said. “I don’ mind cookin’ for them.”
“That’s a good thing, Nonny, because Tucker never gets filled up,” Gator said.
Kadan and Tucker stood up as the women entered room, Tucker grinning at Nonny a little sheepishly.
“I finished up the gumbo, ma’am. I’ve never had anything so good.”
Kadan nodded his agreement. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“No need for that, boys,” Nonny said, looking pleased. Flame felt the impact of the two GhostWalkers’s gazes. Hard. Penetrating. As if they were looking straight through her to see inside of her. She became aware of Raoul’s hand then, his fingers stroking hers, covering her fist curled around the hilt of her knife. He was very close to her again, his body deliberately crowding hers so it would be difficult to draw the knife and throw in one smooth motion.
“They’re my family, cher,” he reminded, his lips close to her ear.
Flame felt the stirring of his warm breath, heard the reassurance in his voice, but her gaze immediately covered the room, noting all exits, windows, and every single item she could use as a weapon should she need it.
“Flame, this is Kadan Montague and Tucker Addison. Both are my friends and work with me,” Gator said.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Tucker greeted.
Kadan registered the fact that she hadn’t loosened ha grip on her knife and Gator’s hand held hers stationary. “I hope you’re feeling better. Gator told us you won a fight with an alligator.”
She forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and made a conscious effort to open her fingers and let go of her lifeline. “Well, I don’t know about that. He lost an eye and I nearly lost an arm, so I’d say it was a draw.”
“Rye called this morning and said the man you identified as Rick Fielding died four years ago running an ops in Columbia,” Kadan announced.
“That’s impossible. He took the psychic test the same time I did. I’m not mistaken,” Gator protested. “It was the same man.”
“You probably aren’t mistaken,” Flame said. “If I had access to a good computer I’d run a list of names of soldiers who took that test, supposedly didn’t make it in but were listed as dead or missing a few months later. My guess would be they’ve become part of another team and someone with a lot of money and a lot of contacts is running them.” Kadan’s gaze had such an impact she hunched, but refused to look away from him. She brushed palm over the hilt of her knife for reassurance.
“I’d agree that running that list of names and comparing them to men who are supposed to be dead is a very smart idea,” Kadan agreed. “I’ll pass it on to Rye and see what he comes up with. He also mentioned that a couple of days ago a U.S. registered Falcon 2000 executive jet landed at the airport here and remained until yesterday. The jet is owned by a company called Lansing International Consulting.”
“Where’s this company based?” Gator asked.
“They’re out of Nevada.”
“I don’t understand,” Wyatt said. “Why would a jet be important?”
“Those men we encountered in the swamp,” Gator said, choosing his words carefully, “had to have been flown in.”
Kadan cleared his throat and continued, “One signature appears on the company’s annual report, an Earl Thomas Bartlett. Ryland ran a search of all commercial databases and there is no record whatsoever of Mr. Bartlett. No residence, driver’s license, Social Security number, or even evidence of a vehicle, yet Mr. Bartlett signs reports and sends jets to various locations all over the world.”
“Who was the jet purchased from?” Flame asked.
Kadan’s strange, glittering gaze met hers, sending another chill through her. “You’re smart. That was the first thing Lily asked too. The jet was purchased from another company, one called International Investments. Like Bartlett, the owner of that company doesn’t seem to exist in any public records.”
“He’s alive,” Flame whispered. She looked at Gator, stricken. “He is alive. I was right all along.”
Gator held out his hand to her and after a moment, she took it.
“Unfortunately, Flame,” Kadan said, “I’m beginning to think you could be right. This aircraft, as well as a few others like it, owned by private international consulting, investing, or marketing companies, appears to be able to fly into restricted areas and that takes clearance. The companies Rye’s looked into all have the same low profile, claim to make small profits, turn in their annual reports, and each has one man who doesn’t appear to exist at the helm. Ryland’s still investigating and it will be a while before we know anything else, but in the meantime it would be a smart move to be on high alert.”