Marisa Carroll - Hotel Marchand 09

by Her Summer Lover

  “One moment, please.” She set her coffee mug on the bedside table and opened the door. Luc Carter was standing on the tiny landing outside her room. He was dressed in gray slacks and a black shirt, open at the throat, and looked both elegant and casual at the same time.

  “Good morning, Sophie,” he said.

  “Good morning, Luc. I was just on my way down to breakfast.”

  “It’s ready whenever you are. Actually, I came to tell you that you have a visitor downstairs.”

  “Alain?” Sophie wished she’d been able to school her tongue to silence when she saw one of Luc’s dark, expressive brows rise a fraction of an inch.

  “It’s a Boudreaux, yes. But not our esteemed Chief of Police. It’s his son, Guy.”

  “Guy? What’s he doing out here?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me,” Luc said, stepping back so that she could precede him down the stairs. “Said it was private business between the two of you. I put him at the table in the alcove. You can have a little more privacy there.”

  “Thanks.” She hurried down the steps holding on to the rail. The cypress risers were narrow and steep between the second and third floors of the old house. The enticing smells of crisp bacon and hot coffee greeted her halfway down the main staircase with its beautifully carved mahogany banister. She could hear the clatter of silverware and the sounds of voices from the breakfast room.

  She stopped in the archway that separated the small lounge reception area from the breakfast room and scanned the faces that looked up as she came into view. She nodded pleasantly at two of the four couples occupying the second floor rooms of the bed and breakfast as they sat gathered around the big harvest table, and then settled her gaze on Alain’s son.

  Guy had been watching for her and rose from his chair the moment she appeared. He was wearing jeans, with a bike cuff around his ankle, which explained how he’d gotten out here. He’d ridden his bike from town. He was wearing a white dress shirt and tie and a leather jacket, not the usual Indigo High sweatshirt she was used to seeing him in. Sophie guessed he had just come from mass at St. Timothy’s.

  She walked over to the table and motioned him back into his seat. “Sit down, Guy. Do you want something to eat?”

  He remained standing and shook his head. “No thanks, I already had breakfast. I need to talk to you.” His voice was so low Sophie had to bend her head closer to hear him. “I…I have to ask a favor.”

  “Is something wrong?” She was afraid there must be. Why else would he seek her out here at the B&B on a Sunday morning?

  “Yeah. Sort of. Look, could we talk somewhere a little more, you know, private?”

  “Of course.” She led him into the small, comfortably furnished lounge that doubled as the reception area. She sat down on one of the overstuffed sofas that flanked the stone fireplace and patted the seat beside her. “What’s wrong, Guy?”

  He looked at her with Alain’s deep-blue eyes. “I’m here about Dana and my mom.” He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a slim cell phone. He flipped it open, checked the display as though to be sure he hadn’t somehow missed a call, then closed the lid and wrapped his long fingers around it.

  “You’ve heard from Dana or your mother? Are they all right? I…I didn’t talk to your father at all yesterday.” The day before had been one of the longest in Sophie’s life. She’d spent it at Maude’s house, sorting through her personal possessions, not wanting to leave them behind in an unoccupied house. It had been a bittersweet task as memories of her childhood and teen years came back to her with each album page she turned, each memento she packed. She had found herself reaching into her pocket for her own cell phone more than once as she worked, anxious to contact Alain and see if there was any news of Dana, yet at the same time, reluctant to be the one making the connection. She was more than a little afraid she would lose her resolve completely and tell him she would stay with him in Indigo forever.

  “My mom called me. Right in the middle of mass.” He colored a little, but Sophie pretended not to notice. “Father Joe doesn’t like people to have their cell phones on in the church, but I didn’t want to take the chance of missing a call. Luckily, I was sitting in the back pew and I got out pretty quick.”

  “What did Dana have to say? Is she having fun? They aren’t still in Orlando, are they?” It was a little after eleven. There was no way Casey Jo could meet Alain’s 7:00 p.m. deadline if she was still in Florida.

  “No. They’re in Biloxi somewhere. I…I have the name and address of the motel.”

  “That’s about two hundred miles or so from here, isn’t it? They should make it home in plenty of time.”

  Guy’s face tightened. “Casey Jo’s car broke down. Threw an engine rod. They’re not going anywhere from the sound of it. And Dana’s sick. She’s throwing up and crying.” He shoved his hand through his dark auburn hair in frustration. “Casey Jo was crying, too. She’s not used to taking care of a sick kid. And Dana’s a world-class crier. The more she cries, the more she throws up. That’s the way she is.”

  Sophie’s heart went out to him. He was a conscientious kid, a born protector and he loved his little sister. He hadn’t wanted her to go off with Casey Jo and now his worst fears were being realized. “Where’s your father? Has he gone to pick them up?” It was the only reason she could think of that Guy had come to her, to give her word of the situation.

  “He doesn’t know anything about it. My mom’s afraid to call him. Anyway, he’s at the other end of the parish. The sheriff called early this morning and said there was a fugitive situation. Three guys broke out of jail in New Orleans. The highway patrol thought they might be heading this way. They’ve got roadblocks set up all over the south end of the parish. I…I didn’t try to get hold of him yet, either.”

  “Your grandmother?”

  “She’s working.” He set his jaw, another mannerism he shared with Alain. “And Grandma Marie’s sleeping. She works ’til 3:00 a.m. on Saturday nights. Besides, her car’s a bigger lemon than Casey Jo’s.” Sophie had an idea now where he was going with this. “I need to borrow a car to go get them and bring them back here before Dad’s deadline.”

  “Your great-grandmother—”

  “Would be on the phone to the sheriff or the governor or even the president—whoever it took to get hold of my dad—so fast it would make your head swim. I don’t want everyone in town to know what’s going on. I need a car to go get them and bring them back to Indigo without anyone finding out. Could you loan me yours?”

  “Oh, Guy.” Sophie tried to make sense of all the scattered facts he’d laid before her. “I can’t do that. In the first place, you don’t have a license.”

  “Grandma Marie would drive it. She’s a good driver, really, she is. It’s her car that’s a junker.”

  Sophie laid her hand on his for just a second, withdrawing it before she embarrassed him. “I’m sorry, Guy. My firm leases my car. The insurance company won’t allow anyone else to drive it. Surely, there are enough policemen to man this roadblock. Call your father. It’s an emergency. They’ll let him go.”

  “No.” The word exploded out of his throat. “You don’t understand. I know Dad would go after them in a heartbeat. But we had this talk. And I understand about my mom better now. I want to give her this chance to show she’s doing the right thing. I want to go after her and Dana, not my dad.”

  Sophie was flattered that Guy had come to her, but she had no idea what Alain would think of her inserting herself into his family’s affairs. Perhaps if she had told him she loved him when she had the chance, instead of giving in to her own insecurities, it would be different. As things stood now, she didn’t even know if they had a relationship, let alone an ongoing one. “Guy, please let me call your father,” she pleaded.

  “No. I told you I want to do this myself.” He stood up and she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. “Look, thanks for listening to me. I’ll try to call my friend Skeeter. His older brother’s got hi
s own car. Maybe if I buy the gas—”

  “No.” Sophie made up her mind. She wouldn’t think of the personal implications of what she was doing, only of Dana’s safety, and Guy’s, for that matter. She wasn’t going to have Alain’s son going on a four-hundred-mile road trip with another inexperienced driver. “I’ll drive you. But I insist you inform your father or your grandmother what we’re doing, otherwise, no deal. Understood?”

  He glanced over his shoulder as one of the couples, a dentist from Dallas and his much younger wife, came into the lounge from the breakfast room. “My mom won’t be happy to see you.”

  “I know. But I think I can handle it.”

  “I’m not blind. I… You and my dad— Well, I’ve got eyes, and people around town, they remember—”

  “You’re right about your father and me. Perhaps one day we’ll be more than friends. I honestly don’t know right now. But that’s all beside the point. It’s Dana we should be thinking about. And if you’re right about your mother wanting another chance to prove she can be a good mom, she’ll ‘get along to go along,’ as my godmother used to say.”

  He nodded agreement but didn’t look any more convinced than Sophie felt. However, she had no other solution to offer and they both knew it. “I’ll try my dad right now.” Guy ducked his head and flipped open his phone. “No signal. I’ll go outside on the porch and try again. Okay?” His eyes flickered to the other couple, who were asking Luc about the visiting hours for Shadows-on-the-Teche.

  “I’ll go upstairs and get my purse.” She would have to trust him on this, even though she could see his reluctance to inform his father of his plans hadn’t diminished.

  The dentist and his wife were gone when Sophie came back downstairs, slightly breathless from hurrying. Only Luc Carter remained in the lounge, although she could hear the murmur of voices from the breakfast room.

  “Going out with young Boudreaux?” he asked, coming out from behind the antique table that served as a reception desk.

  “Yes,” Sophie replied, wondering how much she could tell him of her plans. “I’ll be gone most of the day.” She would finish packing when Dana, and she supposed Casey Jo, were safely back in Indigo.

  “Is there any message you care to leave if someone inquires for you?” he asked, the perfect host.

  “No message.”

  “You believe the boy is actually contacting his father then?” He made no attempt to hide the fact he must have overhead at least part of her conversation with Guy.

  She looked him straight in the eye. “Yes.”

  “How far away is she? Boudreaux’s ex and the little girl, I mean?” He shrugged. “Half the town knows the woman took off with her to Disney World.”

  He was probably right about that. “They’re somewhere near Biloxi. They’ve had car trouble and Dana’s under the weather, probably from too much excitement and theme-park food.”

  “And Guy is determined to bring them safely home.” A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “Southern gallantry is alive and well a hundred and fifty years after the fall of the Confederacy.” He indicated where Guy, visible through the low windows, was standing on the wide porch, cell phone to his ear. His smile grew broader. “That acorn sure didn’t fall far from the tree.”

  Sophie managed a smile, too. “No,” she agreed. “He certainly did not.”

  IT WAS DARK by the time Alain pulled into his parking space at the municipal building. Main Street was deserted. The General Store was open and the gas station on the corner had its lights on, but the rest of the town had settled in for the evening, staying warm and dry out of the rain and chill wind. He picked up his hat and gathered up his paperwork.

  What a hell of a wasted day. Six hours spent manning a roadblock on a backwater road that no one in the parish much used anymore, and that sure wouldn’t be on any self-respecting crooks’ escape route. But the state boys were running the show, and the sheriff, just following orders, you understand, wasn’t above getting a little of his own back as far as Alain was concerned, sending him off to stand guard over skunk cabbage and alligator holes at the back of beyond.

  To top it all off, the escaped prisoners had all been recaptured before they ever made it out of the city. The only bright spot in the miserable, wet day was the fact that the sheriff must see him as a potential threat come election time, or he wouldn’t have made sure there was no chance in hell that Alain would get credit for apprehending the fugitives if they had got this far north. Small comfort for his aching feet and chilled bones, but it was all he had.

  He gathered up his paperwork, dumped it on his desk to deal with in the morning and headed back out of his cubbyhole office to the front desk, where Damien Homier was just checking in for the night shift. “You two holding down the fort tonight?” he observed, returning his shotgun and ammunition to the gun safe in the corner. He spun the combination lock and initialed the weapons log that Billy Paul held out to him.

  “Just the two of us to keep each other awake.” Billy Paul, fat, bald and fifty, but still the best drummer in the parish, shoved the weapons log back in the desk.

  “I’ll be heading out on patrol in another hour or so.” Damien Homier was young and eager. He’d make a good cop someday. Now he found Indigo too tame for his liking, but that would change, Alain thought with a wry grin.

  “Take care of yourself. I’ll be at home if you need me.”

  “Hey, Chief. Just remembered.” Billy Paul grabbed a yellow sticky note that had been affixed to his radio and handed it over the four-foot-high plywood divider that was all that separated them from the citizenry of Indigo. “It’s a note from your mom. Says to check your voice mail for messages and to get home right away.”

  Five minutes later Alain wheeled the Explorer into the driveway. There were lights on all over the house. His mother met him at the kitchen door. “You got my message?” she asked without preamble.

  “Yeah, just now. I’ve had my phone off all day. There wasn’t any decent signal out in the boonies where I was, and I didn’t want the battery to run down. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know.” She looked worried but her voice was calm and she moved back into the kitchen in a normal, unhurried manner. Thirty years of working in a hospital ER gave you nerves of steel. “There was a message from Guy on the answering machine when I got home. He’s in Biloxi!” Her calm deserted her for a moment as her voice rose. “He was calling from one of those walk-in clinics. It’s okay,” she said hurriedly. “Dana’s sick. Tummy troubles, nothing serious. They’re on their way back now, I guess. He’s not answering his cell. How in heaven’s name did he get to Biloxi? I called Marie but she hadn’t heard anything. She’s more in the dark than I am.”

  Alain had tried Guy’s cell first thing after he’d turned on his own, but he’d had no better luck connecting than his mother. “I don’t have too many more details. Here, listen to Guy’s message.” She put the cell to her ear. He didn’t have to listen. He’d already memorized the words.

  Dad, it’s Guy. There’s a problem. Casey Jo’s car broke down. She’s in Biloxi and Dana’s not feeling well. She wants to get home on time like she promised. I…I told her I’d help. I found someone to take me to get them. It’s…it’s Miss Sophie. I’ll call you back when I get there. Don’t worry, Dad. She’s a good driver.

  The second message was short and to the point: Dad, my battery’s running down. The doctor says Dana’s okay. It’s about four o’clock. We’re heading home. A slight pause, then the words that had stuck in Alain’s brain ever since. All four of us.

  Cecily handed the phone back to him. “Sophie Clarkson? He asked her before he called me?” If he hadn’t been bone-tired and still getting over the scare of his life from that yellow sticky note, he’d have given a lot of money for a picture of the look of consternation and pique that flashed across his mother’s face.

  “I’m sure he thought of you first, but even if you could have gotten someone to cover the rest of your sh
ift, it would have taken you at least forty-five minutes to get back here. He was using his head.” Alain felt himself beginning to uncoil a little, the cold, hard knot of fear that had settled in his gut thawing slightly. “My guess is that it’s got something to do with the talk we had last night. He’s trying to make amends for always thinking the worst of her actions all these years.”

  “That’s because she usually does—”

  “Mom, that’s not going to do any good.”

  “I know. I know. When do you think they’ll be back?” she asked, glancing at the rooster-decorated clock that had hung above the sink for as long as Alain could remember. “It’s almost seven.”

  “It’s four hundred miles there and back, or as close as doesn’t matter. Probably eight or eight-thirty. Not much sooner than that.”

  “Four hours cooped up in the same car with Casey Jo,” Cecily said, worrying her lower lip. “How will Sophie handle it?” There were other questions he could see lurking in her brown eyes but she didn’t ask them.

  “I think she’ll handle it just fine.” But deep inside he wasn’t so sure.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “MARIE, it’s Cecily. I’m calling to ask if you’ve heard anything from Casey Jo?” She flipped the heavy braid over her shoulder. Maybe it was time to get her hair cut. The weight of it was giving her headaches. Or maybe it was stress. She had surely had enough of that to deal with lately.

  “Not a word. But she doesn’t have a phone plan. She pays by the minute so she only uses her cell for emergencies. Is everything okay? Are they on their way back home?”

  “As far as I know. Alain’s here now and he had a couple of voice messages from Guy on his phone. They took Dana to a walk-in clinic. She’s doing fine. It was probably just too much of everything. You know she’s got a delicate stomach. Evidently, it was Sophie Clarkson who drove Guy to Biloxi.”