Hot Pursuit Page 19

  A man had appeared out of nowhere and stared down at him from the dock above.

  “Let’s make a deal,” the guy said, stepping closer. That’s when Julian noticed the gun.

  *

  Charlie’s was on the southern end of town, about ten minutes away from Reynier’s Retreat. It took Matt less than five to make the trip. Evie was amazed they didn’t get pulled over before they got there. The answer to why not, however, sat in the jammed parking lot. Three of the town’s six police cars were parked side by side.

  Evie swallowed and shot a glance at Matt.

  “It’ll be okay.” He sounded calm and cool. It gave her confidence, though not much.

  She just hoped he was right. David’s body had been found less than twenty-four hours ago and the police were under pressure to find the killer. And since they wanted to believe the killer was Evie, in spite of her corroborated alibi, they weren’t going to be all that nice when she strolled in.

  She wasn’t surprised the police were here. In fact, most of the town wound up at the popular restaurant some time or another during the week. Nobody could resist the lure of Charlie Boudreaux’s cooking.

  Seeing the place always brought back memories. How many hot summer nights had she spent at Charlie’s with her friends? She’d waitressed the summer before her junior year, fetching iced tea and soda for the customers along with mile-high po’ boys and steaming bowls of gumbo. Charlie had been the first person to nurture her cooking talent, to teach her when to add a pinch of seasoning or a dollop of sauce. And he’d taught her how to make a creamy roux, which came in darn handy when she was mastering French sauces under the tutelage of Monsieur Bertrand.

  Charlie’d been happy when she’d gotten accepted to culinary school, but baffled too. He didn’t understand why anybody needed to go to school to learn how to cook. Dat crazy, ma chère. Wat you want to do dat fo? You know how to cook, yeah.

  When she’d come back to town a month ago, she’d driven past on the way to Mama’s beauty parlor and been surprised to see that the once Pepto-Bismol clapboard siding had faded to a dusty pink over the last few years. Now, in the dark, it looked almost white. The boxy building sat on stilts over the water, and a ramp sloped up to the door.

  Folks congregated on the ramp, laughing and talking, some smoking cigarettes, while they either took a break from the action inside or waited for a table to open up.

  Light spilled from the windows, lighting the first row of cars, while inside a local band jammed. She could feel its swinging beat, even in the car with the windows rolled up and the AC going. Charlie’s was a diner, a family place, though they served beer and wine as well. No one mistook Charlie’s for a rough and tumble bar. There were always strangers among the regulars, folks who’d read about the place in a guidebook or heard about it from friends who’d passed through.

  Matt slipped the BMW into a parking spot near the end of a row and shut off the engine. He glanced toward the dock and the boats tied up there. “I think, even if we beat our mystery guest, it’s probably too crowded here tonight to catch whoever it was. Instead, we’re gonna concentrate on the meeting and see what we can’t find out that way. You ready for this?”

  Evie nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “I’m going to poke around outside, see if our mystery visitor has made it yet. You go in and wait for someone to make contact.”

  “What if they try to force me to leave with them?”

  “I won’t let it happen.”

  “I admit I don’t understand this. Why do they want to meet in such a public place? And how will we know they really have Sarah?”

  “They knew you wouldn’t go anywhere more remote, so they want to make sure you have the files.” He handed her the media card. “Don’t give it to them yet. Make them tell you how they see the exchange happening, and don’t agree to anything that isn’t within the town limits. Anywhere open and well-lit is good—a parking lot, for instance. Tell them you want to speak to Sarah and make sure she’s okay before you agree to anything.”

  “All right.”

  “They’ll be hoping you’re dumb enough to hand over the information with only a promise in return, so don’t be surprised if they suggest it, or even demand it, before agreeing to let you speak to Sarah.”

  Evie snorted. “That’s not happening.”

  Matt flashed a smile. “Yeah, I’d say they aren’t actually acquainted with you or they’d know better.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “There’s at least three cops in there—and I’ll be watching carefully—so don’t worry.”

  Evie got out of the car and marched up the ramp. It took a tad longer than she’d like since she had to stop and speak to everyone she knew. People made sympathetic noises about Jimmy, about her mother, and her dead partner. Evie thanked them all, said she didn’t have the faintest idea what was going on, and kept moving until she reached the doors and finally got inside.

  Don’t worry, Matt had said. Right. Evie scanned the crowded restaurant and wished her stomach wasn’t doing flip turns. The second she walked inside, her mouth started watering for a bowl of Charlie’s jambalaya. Except she couldn’t keep any food down right now.

  Her gaze snagged on a woman at the back. The wild blond hair and shape of the nose were familiar. It had to be an old classmate, but who hadn’t she seen out at the lake last night? Before she could figure it out, the woman ducked through the rear door.

  “Well, bless my soul if it isn’t little Evie Baker! Been worried about you, sugar.”

  Evie spun to find a pint-size woman smiling up at her. “Trish!” Evie hugged Charlie’s wife, who was always ready with a smile and a warm word. “I’m fine, really, but thanks for worrying.”

  Trish frowned. “Heard your mama had a nasty fall, sugar. And what about that man, hmm? Can you believe it? Who do you think killed him?”

  “I wish I knew.” It wasn’t the first time tonight Evie had said it.

  Trish talked a mile a minute and hardly waited for her questions to be answered before zooming ahead. “I heard he was your ex-boyfriend and he stole a lot of money from you.”

  Evie nodded. She’d been hoping to keep the circumstances of her return to Rochambeau secret, but of course that was all finished once David showed up and got himself killed. It was bad enough to feel like a failure to yourself. To have everyone else know you were a failure was a different story altogether.

  And yet that was nothing compared to the fact David was dead. She may have hated him for what he’d done to her dreams, but there’d been a time when she’d liked him. When he’d made her laugh.

  “Yes, he stole from me. I don’t know why he was here, though.”

  Trish swatted her with a napkin. “Probably wanted to beg your forgiveness. Just look at you. You’ve grown into quite the lovely thing, haven’t you?” She popped her hands on her ample hips. “So what’s it gonna be tonight? Meeting anyone? How about that handsome Matt Girard, hmm?”

  Evie’s face was hot. Great, now she was blushing over Matt Girard. “I’m expecting someone to come talk to me about a job.”

  A lie, but at least it would explain why she was talking to a stranger. She just hoped Trish didn’t question why someone would come to Rochambeau to interview her.

  As hoped, Trish sailed right on by that little snag. “Oh honey, you could always come work here. Charlie would love to have you.”

  Evie’s smile was genuine. There were a lot of good people in Rochambeau. Times like this, she felt guilty for wanting to escape. “I’ll think about it.”

  “You do that. Now let’s get you a place to sit, chère.” Trish hurried her to a table and plopped down a menu and a basket of corn fritters she’d acquired along the way. “I’m rushed off my tootsies tonight. But you be sure to come back and say hello to Charlie before you leave. He’s always happy to see you.”

  Evie promised she’d do just that. When Trish walked away, she scanned the crowd again. She recognized a few faces, though no one who felt
it their immediate duty to come over and talk to her. Missy Sue waved and motioned her over. Evie pointed at the seat in front of her, indicating she was waiting for someone, and shrugged. Missy Sue nodded and mouthed, “Later then.”

  Evie glanced at the table of cops. They hadn’t yet noticed her, and for that she was thankful. She pretended to study the menu—as if she didn’t already know it by heart since Charlie hadn’t changed it in twenty years—and watched the doors for newcomers. There were a few people she didn’t recognize, but no one paid any attention to her beyond a glance and a whispered conversation here and there. No doubt they all knew about David’s murder and were speculating whether or not she could be a stone-cold killer.

  Evie recognized a man moving through the crowd and suppressed a groan. Oh God, not now. Detective Proctor sighted her and changed course. She set the menu down very carefully and composed a smile for him.

  “Heard your mama’s doing well,” he said.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “You hear from that sister of yours yet?”

  Evie’s heart thudded into her throat. Wouldn’t it be good to have the police on their side? Cops had resources they could mobilize in a heartbeat to find Sarah. But the people who had Sarah were professional killers, as Matt said, and they wouldn’t hesitate to follow through on their threats if the police got involved. And Matt’s resources seemed to be pretty good if the work they’d done on the media card was any indication.

  Evie swallowed. “Um, yes. She went to a friend’s house.”

  He nodded, his expression somewhat smug. “Thought so.”

  Anger flashed through her in spite of the fact she should be relieved they weren’t digging any deeper. “Weren’t you supposed to be questioning her friends? Making sure she wasn’t missing?”

  “Twenty-five years’ experience tells me she went somewhere to pout after the fight with her boyfriend. I don’t have the leisure time to chase after a teenager in a snit when there’s a murderer on the loose.”

  His look was pointed. Evie picked up the menu again, fiddling with it. “Then don’t let me keep you from finding that person, Detective Proctor.”

  He tapped the back of the empty chair facing her. “Don’t worry, Miss Baker, you won’t.”

  When he walked away, Evie resisted the urge to drop her head into her hands. She drew in a deep breath. This was insane. She was a chef—a broke, unemployed chef—waiting to meet with ruthless mob thugs in a public restaurant while the police sat fifteen feet away and didn’t have a clue. It was almost too ridiculous to be real. If not for that picture of Sarah, she wouldn’t believe it was.

  Her phone chimed and she answered without checking the display. She already knew what it would say: unknown.

  “Meet me on the dock.” A woman’s voice, ten minutes early.

  “I’d rather not. Come inside.”

  “Too crowded. The police don’t boost my confidence any. You wouldn’t have been dumb enough to tell them, would you?”

  “No! Charlie’s is a popular spot in Rochambeau. Everyone comes here.”

  “Outside, Evie.”

  Something in the woman’s voice as she said Evie’s name registered in the recesses of her brain and dredged up a memory. “Brianna Sweeney?”

  “Aren’t you clever? Now get out here.” The phone went dead.

  Evie’s temples throbbed. Brianna? Her bartender? The woman had worked at Evangeline’s for about four months. Bree’d had a boyfriend—Julian, a big, muscular dude who looked mean enough to eat a helping of railroad spikes for breakfast. The two of them had left shortly after David, but she hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. Staff always came and went in the restaurant business. Besides, she’d lost several servers in the days after David stole the payroll.

  Yet it now looked as if Brianna was more than she’d seemed.

  Evie punched in Matt’s number. A second later, he answered.

  “They want me to come out on the dock.”

  “Go ahead, I’ve got your six. Don’t go any farther than the first landing.”

  Evie rose as nonchalantly as possible under the circumstances. When she reached the door, she glanced at the cops’ table. Detective Proctor’s hard stare was pinned on her. She pushed the door open and walked across the wooden decking. A quick scan didn’t reveal Matt anywhere. Since she didn’t want to look obvious in her search for him, she focused on the long dock. A woman with blond hair waited twenty feet on the other side of the first landing, the glow of her cigarette like a homing beacon.

  “You got it?” Brianna asked when Evie was within earshot.

  “Yes.” Evie took the media card from her jeans pocket and held it in her palm before dropping it inside again. “Where’s my sister?”

  “She’s fine.”

  “When will you let her go?”

  “Soon as I confirm.” Brianna took out her phone.

  Bitterness coated Evie’s tongue with acid. This woman had worked for her. Shared breathing space on a daily basis for four months. Worse, Evie’d kind of liked her. She had a funny streak, a keen sense of irony. She must be laughing her ass off at this turn of events.

  “I don’t understand, Bree. How’d you get tangled up in this? I thought you were honest.” She couldn’t help the words that spilled forth, the anger.

  Brianna flicked the cigarette butt into the bayou. “It’s not personal, okay? It’s just a job.”

  “A job that involves hurting people. Killing people. Did you kill David, or did someone else do it?”

  Brianna laughed. “Oh God, you’d be surprised, sweetheart. But no, it wasn’t me.” A second later, she had the phone to her ear. “A media card. No? Thanks.”

  Evie’s heart felt as if it would leap from her chest as Brianna slid her phone into her pocket with a scowl. “Nice try, but that’s not what I want.” She reached behind her and Evie stumbled back, envisioning a gun.

  “Relax,” Brianna said. “Got a card for you from your sister.”

  She handed Evie a thick white envelope, then strode past her toward the restaurant.

  “Wait! What about Sarah?”

  “Get what I need,” she shot back. “I’ll be in touch.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  EVIE WAS ONLY IMMOBILIZED FOR a second. Then she sprang into action, deciding to follow Brianna. Since the only way to the parking lot was through the restaurant, maybe she could catch up with the other woman as she threaded her way through the tables and demand more information. Or maybe she could at least see how Brianna left the premises. Was someone waiting for her? What was she driving?

  Evie yanked open the door, nearly colliding with a man as she rushed inside. He steadied her. When she looked up, her heart dropped into her toes. His dark eyes were alight with interest.

  “The devil on your heels, Evie?”

  She focused on his bulbous nose and decided he must like his liquor pretty well considering the redness of it. “Not at all, detective.”

  “What’s that?” He gestured a stubby finger toward the envelope.

  “Just a card from a friend.”

  “You didn’t have it when you went outside.”

  Evie dropped the hand holding the envelope to her side. “No, I didn’t. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my table.”

  His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “You know what I think?”

  She almost didn’t answer him, but she was frustrated at losing Brianna and pissed this guy was so smug in his opinions that he couldn’t consider alternatives. “Yeah, you think I killed David because I was angry with him. And you’re wrong. Instead of looking for the real killer, you’re focusing on me while he’s getting away.” Or she. No matter what Brianna said, Evie had to consider that she was perfectly capable of murder.

  Where was Matt? She hoped he’d seen her with Brianna and was following the woman right now. Maybe he’d call, telling her he’d found the place they were keeping Sarah.

  “No, that’s not what I’m thinki
ng at the moment,” he said patiently as if she were a child and he was explaining a very simple concept. “I’m thinking you’re hiding something.”

  She resisted the urge to clutch the envelope to her chest and looked him square in the eye. “I think you’re reaching for excuses.”

  “Let’s assume you didn’t kill David West. You’re still tied to this somehow. And that’s what I want to figure out—how you fit in.”

  “Hey, chère, sorry I took so long.” Matt seemed to appear out of nowhere. He put his arm around her. “Detective, you bothering my girl?”

  My girl. She loved the way that sounded. She wanted to melt into his warmth but settled for leaning into him just enough to prolong the delicious contact.

  Proctor looked annoyed. “Just chatting a bit.”

  “Hope you’re finished then.”

  “For now.”

  “Good. See you around.” Matt ushered her through the restaurant and out the front door. Brianna was nowhere to be seen. The crowd out front had scattered somewhat. No one looked at them twice as they hurried down the sloping plank ramp to the parking lot. Matt didn’t say anything until they reached the car and stood beside it.

  “Open it, Evie.”

  She ripped the envelope. Inside was a musical birthday card. She pulled the flap open, unsure what she’d find. There was nothing inside, no writing, no instructions. She tugged the card open farther to hear the music. Maybe that was the clue.

  Except it wasn’t music. It was Sarah’s voice. “Evie, help me, I want to go home. Don’t let them kill me. Don’t call the police.”

  Hot tears filled Evie’s eyes as Sarah’s voice broke on the last word. Sick assholes!

  Matt closed the distance between them, his arms going around her, squeezing as he held her close. “I’m sorry, chère.”

  “How could anyone do that? Poor Sarah’s scared out of her mind.” She sucked in a breath, trying not to cry. “It’s all my fault.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “If I’d been satisfied living here, if I’d never left Rochambeau, never dreamed there were bigger things—”