by Sandra Hill
It was fun bantering with the usually dour Daniel, who was surprising her with his flirtatious actions. She liked it. Of course, he would probably zap her with a sarcastic remark any minute now, if she didn’t snark him first. Their mutual bickering had become a hard-to-break habit.
Just then, they both glanced upward at the sound of someone walking on the first floor of the mansion.
“Luc or John?” she guessed.
“Maybe, but they would have probably knocked.” He grabbed a broom, as if that would provide protection against the mob or Nick. Once again, she thought she should get a weapon. Add that to her list.
As Daniel began to walk up the back stairs, she got an enticing view of his very fine behind in the black running shorts. How did he keep in such good shape?
“Do you run, Daniel?” she called after him with what was an out-of-place question in the midst of possible danger.
He answered with the same disregard for timing, “Only when I have to. Were you thinking about chasing me?”
Or being chased, she thought, but didn’t dare say out loud.
A short time later, he returned with Aaron, the two of them laughing about something to do with animals. They would have passed the second parlor on their way to the back stairs.
“Hey, Sam,” Aaron greeted her with the nickname she disliked so much, second only to the hated “Sammie” that Nick taunted her with. She’d been haunted by the “Sam” nickname in childhood. “Sam the Yam,” they’d called her because her hair had been the color of the root vegetable back then. Thank God for modern hair products! It wasn’t worth correcting him, though. And at least he wasn’t calling her “Beanpole,” her other nickname. She’d been taller than all her classmates until high school, and even then, taller than most of the girls. Later she became comfortable with her “model thin” height, but back then, not so much.
“Aaron,” she returned his greeting. “You done working for the day?”
“Nah! I need to go back later this afternoon. A swamp tour by some real estate investors.”
“I appreciate your letting us stay here until we resolve . . . well, you know the situation.”
“No problem. Is there anything to eat?”
Angus and Lily Beth joined them for lunch, and soon the kitchen table was spread with bread, sliced ham, Cajun chicken breast, bologna, and all the condiments, along with Tante Lulu’s leftover salads and Lily Beth’s fruit tart. Daniel gave his brother a brief update while they ate.
Aaron’s grin kept getting wider and wider as he listened, especially when Daniel, who was sitting on the bench across from him, next to Samantha, kept finding excuses to touch Samantha. Once he even blew against her forehead to push back a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. That gesture was so outrageously personal it caused everyone at the table to stop and stare.
“Idiot!” Aaron remarked.
“Moron!” Daniel countered.
Samantha couldn’t help but notice the closeness between the two brothers as they ate and chatted, even the exchange of insults. They were twins, of course, and there was a strong resemblance, even though they dressed differently. Daniel was more the khakis and loafers type, even though he wore running shorts and Nikes this morning, while Aaron was more cowboy, right down to his Levi’s and boots. And his hair was longish, pulled back with a rubber band at the back of his head into a knot or small bun . . . a mun, some people called those popular ponytails which weren’t really big enough to be tails.
Aaron caught her looking him over and winked at her.
Daniel caught the wink and reached across the table to jab his brother with a serving spoon.
“What?” Aaron pretended his chest hurt where Daniel had jabbed him. “Private property? Already? Whoo-hoo! Everybody, raise the flag and do a drum roll. My brother has his mojo back. The doctor is back in the game!”
Samantha arched her brows at Daniel. So much for his rusty moves!
“That’ll be enough, Aaron,” Daniel said. “You’re embarrassing Samantha.”
“Me? Why would I be embarrassed? I haven’t done anything.”
“Yet,” Daniel said, and squeezed her thigh, under the table.
She pretended not to notice.
Aaron looked from her to Daniel and back again, then did a fist bump in the air.
Was her attraction to Daniel so apparent? Or his to her? She . . . they would have to be more careful. She could only imagine what their expressions would reveal if they’d actually done anything.
Luc and John LeDeux joined them then, having parked out front and walked around the house to the kitchen entrance. Apparently, they’d rung the doorbell and got no response except, according to John, “some dude inside saying ‘Holy shit!’ over and over.”
Luc wore a gray business suit that brought out the threads of gray in his dark hair and black-and-gray striped tie that he explained was needed for his appearance in court that morning. He was representing a restaurant being sued for serving gator meat out of season. John, who was known in Cajun land as Tee-John, or little John, from a young age, though he was now over six feet tall, was in jeans, pale blue dress shirt, unbuttoned at the neck with no tie, and a navy blazer, suitable for his job as a police detective in Lafayette. Luc was close to fifty, and John somewhere in his thirties, but they were both good-looking men. All the LeDeuxs were, men and women alike.
As they walked inside, they were complaining to each other about two of their children, John’s thirteen-year-old son Etienne, and Luc’s youngest, Jeanette, who was a high school senior.
“That boy, he gonna put me in the crazy house, guar-an-teed,” John declared in a slow Southern accent that probably had women swooning, despite his marriage and children. “How ya punish a boy who buys a shirt in the French Quarter that says, ‘I Shaved My Balls For This?’ and wore it ta Sunday mass at Our Lady of the Bayou Church?”
“Tante Lulu would say ya reap what ya sow,” Luc commented with a laugh.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It’s only fittin’ that the baddest boy in the bayou should get a boy with his own bad habits.”
“I wasn’t the baddest,” John protested with a grin.
Clearly, he had been. Even Samantha had heard about some of Tee-John LeDeux’s antics, all the way to New Orleans. Of course, that was before he’d married Celine, a newspaper reporter who trimmed his tail feathers.
“Anyways, wait ’til he get older. The problems, they get bigger. Jeanette wants a fluorescent tattoo on her butt that says ‘No . . . No’ on each buttock but in the dark, her ass says, ‘Yes . . . Yes.’ Can you imagine?”
John’s mouth dropped open, and he actually appeared to be interested. “Wish they had those when I was her age.”
“You would!” Luc said.
The two of them realized that all those in the kitchen were listening intently to their conversation.
“Sorry for airin’ our private shit,” John said.
“So, you called,” Luc said to Samantha. “What’s the problem?”
Instead of going outside where the heat was becoming brutal, they decided to talk around the table in the kitchen, where there was at least a ceiling fan. Aaron went upstairs to shower and change before his work assignment. Samantha and Daniel cleared the table while Angus told the story of his gambling debts and the mob loan, and of his and Lily Beth’s involvement with Dr. Nicholas Coltrane. Lily Beth inserted a comment here and there, but mostly she remained silent, yawning occasionally. She probably needed to lie down and take a nap.
Samantha and Daniel sat down then. Daniel told about the visit last night from the two Dixie Mob dimwits, and Samantha related her threatening phone calls from Nick, including two more voice mails this morning, which she hadn’t told Daniel about yet. He gave her a questioning look, and she just shrugged. Too much had been happening.
Daniel wasn’t putting the moves on her in front of Luc and John, but sitting next to her, thigh to thigh on a bench, fe
lt intimate . . . and promising.
“Mon Dieu! Y’all are in a mess of trouble,” John concluded.
“No shit!” Angus muttered.
“This is way beyond the scope of local police, although ya do need ta contact them,” John went on. “I’ll put ya in touch with the police chief in Houma. Beyond that, I suspect the feds’ll have ta be involved, both for the mob and the baby sellin’ crimes. Not just ’cause of the RICO Act, but crossin’ state lines, and all that. The chief kin handle the details.”
“That’s pretty much what we’ve already told them,” Samantha said, “but they’re afraid to get the law involved. Not just for their own legal liabilities, but if the mob or Nick hear that they’ve contacted the police, they’ll surely come after them.”
“That’s where I come in,” Luc interjected. “As your lawyer, I’ll try to get you a deal where you both avoid prosecution in return for testifying against them.”
Lily Beth groaned and clutched her stomach protectively.
“Is she all right?” Luc asked Daniel. Samantha had informed Luc earlier about Daniel’s plans to examine the pregnant girl.
Daniel nodded. “The stress can’t be good, though.”
“Darlin’, yer job is ta take care of yerself and yer baby. Ya need ta trust us ta take care of all this other crap,” John said.
She nodded tearfully.
“Are we safe here?” Angus wanted to know.
John shrugged. “Seems ta me yer as safe here as anywhere. Long as ya doan go blabbin’ yer whereabouts ta anyone.”
“Including Tante Lulu,” Luc added.
They all agreed to that.
“Well, I already notified the contractors not to send any men this week for the roof work and painting,” Daniel informed them. “So, no strangers hanging around.”
“If any strangers . . . even folks you know, like family members . . . come on the property, you two should stay out of sight,” John advised.
“How long will this all take?” Samantha asked. She hated that they were imposing on Daniel and Aaron like this, especially for any length of time.
John exchanged a look with Luc before answering. “Hard to say. Maybe a week or so before any arrests take place. We’ll want to act quickly, though, before word leaks out that they’re in trouble. Otherwise, they’ll hide evidence and skip town.”
“From arrest to trial, though, could take months,” Luc elaborated. “But if the perps are in jail, you won’t need to stay in hiding.”
“If the feds decide this location isn’t secure enough, they’ll find a safe house fer you,” John told them.
“You did the right thing calling us. Take it easy for now, and I’ll call you tomorrow with an update,” Luc told Angus and Lily Beth, who was weeping softly now. Angus stood and said he would take Lily Beth to the front parlor bedroom so that she could rest.
When they were gone, Samantha asked, “Do Daniel and I need to stay hidden? I mean, can I go into my office, or to the stores in the area?”
“No, don’t go to work, for the time being,” Luc advised. “The fact that Nick is calling you to ask about Angus’s whereabouts is alarming. He’s probably calling Angus’s father and friends, as well, casting a wide net. But I wouldn’t take any chances . . . yet.”
“Oh, geez. I went to a Houma medical center, a furniture warehouse, and the grocery store today with Daniel,” Samantha said, cringing. “And I’m supposed to deliver some rescue puppies to homes outside Nawleans today.”
John waved a hand airily. “I think you’re okay with short, local trips like that. Occasionally. I mean, Nick has no reason to connect you with Bayou Rose Plantation, does he? But don’t take any chances, like delivering the animals.”
Daniel pretended to groan. “Damn, I thought I was going to be rid of some of the creatures.”
She turned to glare at him.
And he winked at her, at the same time flashing his dimple.
“Hey, if your other felines are like that monster cat I saw out back, they would scare any intruders away. Guard cat, ya could say.” This from John, who also glanced meaningfully at Emily who was parked outside the green fridge, which was a little cooler than the rest of the room. “Or a guard pig!”
“Very funny!” Samantha remarked, becoming used to all the comments about her animals.
Luc and John said their good-byes and left, but before they could relish the blessed silence, Aaron appeared in the ground floor hallway that led to the front of the mansion. Having changed into black jeans and a Bayou Aviation shirt, he looked cool and clean.
“Oh, brother,” he cooed, leaning against the door frame, grinning at Daniel. “Congratulations are in order.”
“Huh?” Daniel said.
“You are now the proud papa to seven new babies. And you know that favorite Barry Manilow sweatshirt of yours? You might want to ditch it.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Aaron?”
“I went over to the garconniére to get some papers, and guess what? Your cat just popped out a bunch of kittens . . .”
“What?” Daniel exclaimed.
“. . . right on Barry’s pretty face.”
“You know damn well Mom gave both of us those stupid shirts. I couldn’t care less about that. But more cats! I’m getting a rash already.”
Aaron flashed his dimple at his brother, the one on the opposite side of the face. It wasn’t nearly as nice as Daniel’s.
Daniel turned on Samantha. “You knew about this when you gave me that damn cat, didn’t you?”
“Well . . . um . . . uh,” she stammered.
“Your markers are piling up, sweetheart.”
“Okay, so I owe you.”
“Damn straight you do. You got me involved with three live-in guests, one of whom is very pregnant, and—”
“You invited us,” she pointed out.
“. . . then there is the cougar—”
“I keep telling you, it’s not a cougar. It’s a Savannah cat.”
“. . . and two other cats—”
“. . . who are no trouble at all. You hardly know that Felix and Garfield are here.”
“. . . and a dog the size of a pony that can barely walk . . .”
“Now, that’s cruel. Axel is sweet, you have to admit that.”
“. . . and five puppies . . .”
“. . . three of whom are going to be gone soon . . .”
“. . . and a foul-mouthed bird . . .”
“You got me with that one.”
“. . . not to mention, the Dixie Mob, a whacko doctor, the police, the FBI, and now a pregnant cat and seven freakin’ kittens. God only knows what else you’ll pull out of your witchy hat.”
She cringed. It didn’t sound good when he listed all his favors and the impositions on him like that. In fact, very bad. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Hah! I’d like to know how.”
“I could pay you—”
“If I wanted money, I’d get a job.”
He had a point there. “I’ll take care of the new kittens and find homes for them, along with the other two, Felix and Garfield.”
“That’s a given.”
“While I’m here, I’ll help clean up the place and do the cooking, and—”
“I could just as easily call Bayou Maids ’r Us and get takeout like I have been the last few years. Big deal!”
“Don’t you mean ‘Happy Meal’?” she tried to tease.
He didn’t crack even a tiny smile.
“I’ll make up a plan for restoring this mansion. And give you a list of experts to help with some of the more complicated work.”
“Blah, blah, blah.” He was unimpressed.
“I’ll think of something.”
Meanwhile, Aaron was getting an earful. He followed their exchange by glancing first at one of them, then the other, back and forth. Finally, he leaned in to Daniel’s ear and whispered, loud enough for her to overhear, “I have an idea.” He paused
for dramatic effect. “Someone could get laid tonight.”
Samantha was pretty sure he wasn’t talking about himself.
And Daniel looked interested.
Who was she kidding? She was interested, too.
Chapter Eighteen
If love was a merry-go-round, he was on the Tilt-a-Whirl . . .
“We need to exchange vehicles for the day,” Daniel told Aaron after Samantha went off to care for the mommy cat and her new brood. The prospect of these latest additions horrified him, but he couldn’t think about that now. Especially with that scary cougar cat spread out in a predatory fashion on the bottom step of the mansion, eying a hummingbird in a nearby bougainvillea bush, and with the potbellied pig already sitting on the passenger seat of Aaron’s truck, waiting for Daniel. “I’m gonna use your frickin’ truck to get some frickin’ things from the frickin’ storage facility.”
“No problem,” Aaron said. “And the frickin’ pig?”
It was a sign of Daniel’s deteriorating mood that he didn’t even smile at his brother’s obvious teasing. “I’m taking Emily to the Pet Psychiatric Clinic in Lafayette. She’s depressed. And stop with the constant grinning. You look like an idiot.”
“Whoa! Talk about an overreaction. Are you annoyed with me?”
“Hell, yes. Do you have to be so crude? In front of a woman?”
“What? What did I do?”
“Someone could get laid.” Daniel repeated Aaron’s recent words back to him, words said in the presence of Samantha.
“Oh. That.” Aaron paused to stare at him. “I take it you haven’t done the deed with Sam yet.”
“No, I haven’t, not that it’s any of your business.”
“How can you be a brother of mine? Are you an alien or something? You and Sam practically sizzle when you’re in the same room. I should know. I’m your twin. I can feel your burn.”
Great! Shared lust. “I’ve discussed it with her,” he said defensively. “Sort of.”
“Discussed? You don’t discuss having sex. You just do it.” Aaron put his face in his hands, then raised his head. “Sort of? This oughta be good.”
“I implied, and she concurred.” That sounds dumb, even to me.