by Margaret Kay
Sherman opened the boat up, enjoying the speed of the Vulture and the wind whipping through his hair. He pulled up near a channel marker and tied a line off to it after he’d traveled a good hour out onto the lake. Before he dropped Brielle off on Moss Island, he wanted a few more answers from her. He figured she knew enough people in this area that she very well may not be there when he went back to get her.
“Why did you stop?” She asked as he came back into the cabin. She’d been peeking out the windows and she knew they were not at Moss Island.
He leaned against the inside of the door; arms crossed over his chest. “I think there is more to your story than you’ve told me, and I want it all.”
“I have been up front with you. I didn’t have to tell you anything, but Bobby trusts you, so I guess I have to as well.” She knew her tone was snide and clipped.
“But it’s not your first choice, to trust me? I’ve picked up on an underlying antagonism you seem to have towards me. What the fuck, Brielle? I’m the guy that’s helping you.”
Her lips twisted into a scowl. “I’m sorry. I know most people around these parts love you, Brian Sherman, local hero, Navy SEAL, brought our little football team to state as quarterback your senior year, the first and last time that’s happened. You saunter into town once every year or so and your admiring masses fall at your feet, women offer themselves up, willing sacrifices to your very manly, sexual prowess. I’m sorry I’m not one of your adoring fans.”
“Whoa,” Sherman gasped, stunned. Then a small smile tugged at his lips. She had stated that all so elegantly, almost poetically. He’d have to read one of her blog posts. “Just what did I do to you to garner such harsh thoughts from you?”
She stared at him in outrage. “You really don’t know?”
Sherman shook his head. “No. I’ve never laid eyes on you before today, so how could I have done anything to you?”
“You made me scream, peeking in my window when I was twelve years old.”
Sherman’s mind searched his memories. Nope, blank. He had no recollection of peeping in windows at preteens. He shook his head.
“You sat at my family’s kitchen table, pretending to be the faithful boyfriend, when you were just waiting to take my sister’s virginity so you could then break up with her and break her heart.”
“What?” Sherman demanded.
“You were the lowest of the lowest, one of those guys who sleeps with every girl he can get into bed.”
“What the fuck?” He demanded. He had no idea where any of this was coming from. He hadn’t been that guy. Sure, he had many girlfriends when he was in high school and yes, he slept with them. What teenaged boy wouldn’t if it was offered? It continued to be offered all throughout his high school years. “Who was your sister?”
“Dahlia, Dahlia Jarboe,” she replied. “She was in love with you and you broke her heart when you broke up with her. She only slept with you because she thought you two would get married.”
“Married? I was seventeen years old. I wasn’t about to marry anyone.”
“It’s too bad you never told her that.”
“I was up front with all my high school girlfriends. The Navy and out of the bayou were always my destinations, not the altar.”
“She thought you’d take her with you.”
“She thought wrong. Look, I’m sorry your sister was delusional, but we were seventeen years old. It was a high school fling.” They stared each other down. “And I don’t saunter,” he added after a lengthy pause.
“Oh, you saunter, alright,” Brielle argued.
Then he remembered the bedroom window incident she had mentioned. “Now I remember. I came to pick Dahlia up for a date and saw movement in the window. I peeked in, thinking it was her window, but there was a little girl inside and she screamed like she was on fire when she saw me.”
“Yes, that was me,” Brielle confirmed.
Sherman laughed. “Brielle Jarboe, now I remember you. Look, I’m sorry your sister thought we were more than we were. I promise you, I never let on to her that I would marry her or anyone else. What’s she up to these days, anyway?”
Sherman heard a motor near and then cut. He peeked out the window on the port side. It was a boat, coming up alongside his. Fuck.
“What is it?” Brielle asked.
“More like, who, is it?” Sherman replied, already suspecting he knew.
The boat rocked; someone was getting onboard. He pointed to the access panel to the storage area, still open. Then he pulled his phone from his pocket, holding it in his left hand, as he drew his weapon with his right. He waited. The handle jiggled on the door.
“There’s a nine-millimeter pointed at that door,” he called. “I highly recommend you identify yourself. I’m well within my rights to defend my property.”
“It’s Sheriff Henderson,” his familiar voice called. “Just out for our nightly patrol and want to make sure all is okay with you. Boats don’t normally tie up to the channel markers.”
Sherman put his gun away. He unlocked the door and opened it. The Sheriff and two of his deputies came into the cabin, uninvited. The men all looked around. The Sheriff’s eyes went from the open access panel to Sherman.
“There’s no drugs on this boat. I did a thorough search.”
“Who were you talking to?” The Sheriff asked. “Heard voices as we boarded.”
Sherman hit dial on his phone. He knew Madison was manning Ops tonight. He doubted she’d be too busy with the team on the ground in New York. He brought the phone to his ear. “Madison, sweetheart, sorry I had to hang up on you so fast. It was just the Sheriff boarding my boat, again,” he said into the phone when she answered. He’d dialed her personal phone line.
“Oh, okay,” she replied casually.
“Here, let me put you on a visual feed.” He waited a few seconds, to give her time to get the appropriate background behind her, and then he switched over and held the phone up, so she could see the Sheriff and his two deputies. “Sheriff Henderson, meet my girlfriend, FBI Special Agent, Madison Miller. Madison, this here is the Parish’s highest law enforcement officer, Sheriff Henderson, who is making me feel real welcome and protected with two visits today.”
Madison laughed. “Now don’t go making him feel too special, Sheriff Henderson,” Madison said sweetly. “I don’t want Brian thinking he’s all that. He’ll be impossible to live with. Did you get your brother’s problems sorted out, honey?” She asked.
“I’m still working on that,” Sherman said.
“Sheriff, certainly you can help him, a professional courtesy,” Madison suggested.
“I’ll see what I can do, ma’am,” the Sheriff said, not at all thrilled with this turn of events.
Sherman smiled at him, knowing the Sheriff knew exactly what he’d done and why. There was no way he could disappear now that his FBI girlfriend had seen the Sheriff and his crew on the boat. “Have you gotten your vacation approved to come down here tomorrow morning?” Sherman asked her. “The lake is beautiful. You should bring your brother, John, and come down for the weekend. He’d love the fishing out here, I guarantee.”
Madison had to laugh. Yeah, Cooper fishing? That wasn’t something she could even envision. “I’m still waiting to hear from my director if I can be off till Monday. And John, yes, I’m sure he would love a few days out on the lake.”
“Okay, well, I hope your vacation gets approved. I miss you already, sweetheart,” Sherman said. “I’ll call you back later tonight, before bed.”
“I’ll talk to you later, Brian,” Madison said with a smile. “Sheriff, it was nice to meet you.”
“You too, ma’am,” Sheriff Henderson said in a forced pleasant voice. Everyone knew it was forced.
“I’ll walk you out,” Sherman said to the Sheriff. “It’s never been illegal to hook up to a channel marker. Has something changed I’m not aware of?”
“No, it’s just normally not done and as I said, we wanted to make sure
all was okay.”
Out on the deck Sherman smiled at the Sheriff. “As you can see all is okay, but thanks for dropping by, Sheriff.” He was sure the Sheriff and his deputies wanted to pummel him as they got back into their boat. He watched them motor away.
Then he went back into the cabin. “Damn but he’s persistent,” he said. “You can come out now.”
Brielle crawled back out of the open access panel. She pulled herself to her feet and pointed back within the space. “It’s a good thing I’m not claustrophobic.”
“I know they’ll be watching. We don’t dare drop you at Moss Island. They’ll be all over it after I pull away.”
“Might be good if they are, as long as I’m not there.”
Sherman pulled his phone back out and redialed Madison.
“Yes, Brian, honey?” She answered.
“He’s gone,” Sherman said.
“Cooper is here now,” Madison reported, turning all business-like. “I have you on speaker.”
Sherman brought them up to date on the situation. He switched back over to visual and moved beside Brielle. He introduced her. “I need the digital unit to find out all they can on the Sheriff, Deputy Downey, the new mayor of Galliano, and the BioDynamix company and its executives. I’ll text correct spellings of the names to you.” He knew they would run Brielle to ground too. That was a given.
“We’re on it,” Madison said. “I’ll also reach out to Shepherd. Do you really want Cooper and me down there tomorrow morning?”
Sherman hated to put more stress on the agency. “I think so. I’m not sure what will happen in court tomorrow and I need to get Bobby out of that jail before he has another accident and takes another fall. Plus, I need to protect Brielle. The Sheriff can’t get his hands on her. She’s sure there’s something less than kosher going on, and based on the Sheriff’s attention, I’d say it warrants a closer look.”
Brielle was surprised that Brian Sherman was taking her side and asking his FBI girlfriend to come help. Of course, he’d have a beautiful blond with blue eyes as his girlfriend. She looked thin too. She was sure this Madison was the whole package, looks, brains, body.
Madison and Cooper assured him they’d be down and meet him at the marina in the morning. Then she signed off.
“Thank you. It was nice of you to ask your girlfriend to come down and help me too,” Brielle said.
Sherman laughed. “Madison’s not my girlfriend, she’s one of my coworkers, but I knew she’d play along and know something was up when I called, calling her sweetheart. That man who was on the call, Cooper, that’s her husband and a fellow agent.”
Brielle was surprised. They’d been so convincing. “Really?”
Sherman focused his smiling eyes on her. “You were jealous for a second, weren’t you?”
Brielle got flustered. When she spoke, her words were harsher than she meant them to be. “Jealous, no, never. I just didn’t think you could land a beautiful blond like her.”
Brielle’s words were hurtful. She really did think he was a piece of shit. “You never answered my earlier question. Whatever happened to your sister?”
“Nothing, she eventually got over you. Sorry, Mr. Ego, she’s not crying in her sleep, waiting for the great Brian Sherman to come back to her.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” Sherman corrected her, his voice just as cutting. “What’s she doing now?”
“She’s a shaman at the reservation, embraced our Coushatta roots. She and my dad both live there, up near Acadia.”
“What about your mom? I always liked her.”
“My mom died about a year after yours, a drunk driving accident.”
“I’m sorry,” Sherman said.
“Yeah, me too,” Brielle answered. “I was real sorry about your mom. I spent a lot of time at your house with Bobby after you were gone to the Navy. She was always so kind to me. I helped Bobby take care of her. She fought, no matter how sick she was.”
Sherman nodded numbly. His mother had died of cancer seven years earlier. He had no idea that this girl had known his momma or that she’d helped take care of her. Though he should have figured someone had. That had been a lot on Bobby, who became her primary caregiver. His father, he knew, hadn’t handled it well. He’d crawled inside a bottle, unable to deal with the fact that Helene Sherman was dying.
“We should probably go back to the marina and get some sleep. I don’t think the Sheriff will call again tonight, and he’d be less likely to show up there, with witnesses.”
Brielle nodded. A part of her was glad. She did feel she was safer with Brian Sherman than she’d be alone on Moss Island. She watched him leave through the cabin, once again leaving her alone. She’d love to be up on deck or up on the flybridge with him. It looked like a beautiful night. Her thoughts went to Bobby, alone in his jail cell and that guilt hit her again. Hopefully, Brian will get him out tomorrow, she thought. If not, she contemplated turning herself in.
By the time Sherman pulled the boat back into the marina, it was nearly twenty-two hundred hours. He sent that text to Madison, also providing the correct spelling of Brielle’s name and the few details he knew about her, including her Parish Blog, The Lafourche Letter. He Googled it on his phone and read a few of her posts on the way back into the marina. Her writing was good, her style catchy and original, and the content was hardcore news, no fluff. She had several articles on the BioDynamix plant, questioning why the Parish gave them tax breaks to set up shop and also questioning exactly what they did, what their business was. The articles were inflammatory, there was no doubt about that.
He tied the boat up and came back into the cabin, startling her as he entered. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I guess I’m still jumpy. When you stepped onto this boat earlier, while I was eating, I nearly jumped out of my own skin,” she admitted. “I couldn’t get into that storage space fast enough.”
Sherman was surprised. She seemed cool, confident, and collected, defiant even as she argued with him about coming out when he found her. He wondered for a second if this supposed uneasiness was manufactured on her part. “I’ve got you now and you’re safe. I really don’t think that Sheriff will be back tonight.”
“If you hadn’t brought that woman onto the phone to see Sheriff Henderson do you think anything bad would have gone down?”
Sherman breathed out hard and ran his hand over his scruffy jawline. He didn’t like that she had thought that was a possibility too. “I didn’t want to take any chances. I agree with you that something isn’t right down here, but would the Sheriff had done me physical harm? I don’t know. That’s a hell of a leap.” Though he knew it wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities and he surely had felt threatened, but he wouldn’t admit that to her.
He pointed towards the master cabin. “We should probably get some sleep.”
She stood and moved towards the open doorway; the queen-sized bed lay within. She was not happy when he followed. “You’re not sleeping in there with me.”
Sherman had to chuckle at her and the stern look that was across her face. “I’m not sleeping on the fold down,” he said, motioning towards the kitchen table and booth area that folded down into the other bed. “I’m over six foot. I don’t fit on it.”
She turned around and scooted past him, going back to the kitchen table area. “Well I’m not lying in the same bed as you, so I guess I’m taking it. If you were a gentleman, you’d give the lady the comfortable bed though.”
Sherman laughed aloud. “On my own boat? Give the trespasser the more comfortable bed? Momma, you’re whacked if you think I’m going to curl up on that little, uncomfortable space when a perfectly good, big bed is available for us. It’s big enough to share.”
“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You haven’t changed at all over the years, still trying to get a girl into bed any way you can!”
“Do not flatter yourself, thinking I have ulterior motives. But I would prefer you be in with me, so I can protect you, i
f need be. And if the Sheriff does come back, the folded down bed would be mighty hard to explain.”
She thought about it for a second. She hated to admit it, but he was right about that. Why would the spare bed be folded down with only one person on the boat? She flashed a glare at him as she brushed past him, returning to the master cabin. “Just keep your hands to yourself.”
Her voice definitely held warning, which made Sherman smile at her back, or rather at her ample backside that his eyes were focused on as she retreated deeper within the cabin. He had to admit, her butt was about perfect to his liking. He wouldn’t turn her down if some under the cover’s moves were on her mind. Hell, he’d be happy just to feel over that exquisite ass of hers.