But why would he have come lurking by at night when there’d been no sign of him during the day? Wasn’t it far more likely that Monique had been imagining things?
Running his fingers through his hair, Ben told himself to stop worrying that he really might be putting her in jeopardy by leaving her here. Because he’d be risking his life by taking her along.
And not only that. If she did double-cross him, he’d also be throwing away the only shot he’d get at finding either the man who’d pulled the trigger on his parents or the mastermind behind their deaths.
Which meant he just couldn’t gamble on trusting Monique.
FOR A LONG TIME after Ben disappeared down the channel and the sound of the boat motor had faded, Monique simply stood on the dock looking out at the swamp—wondering whether she’d have taken him along if their positions had been reversed.
Not likely, she decided. She probably wouldn’t have believed him any more than he’d believed her.
But if he’d let her go with him, she really wouldn’t have betrayed him. Not even if she’d had a hundred opportunities. Her doubts about his guilt had grown strong enough that she wouldn’t have taken away his chance to find the real killer.
She reflected on that a moment, aware that the fact she was thinking in terms of a real killer—as opposed to Ben—meant her doubts about his guilt had gotten even stronger than she’d realized.
Maybe voicing them aloud had caused that, or maybe it had been something else. Whatever, she’d reached the stage of being practically convinced he was innocent.
Her thoughts drifted from that awareness to the fact she was on her own now. And try as she might, she couldn’t ignore the sense of foreboding that had settled in around her. Despite what Ben had said, she was certain their bayou boy had been spying on them.
One of those times she’d wakened in the night, she’d thought the steps had creaked. The other, she’d been almost sure she’d seen a face at the window. Just for an instant, though, not for long enough to be positive.
She hugged herself, feeling a sudden chill. If she was right, it wouldn’t take Spook long to realize she was alone. Or maybe he already knew.
Slowly, she let her gaze drift down the channel once more. The morning fog had burned off, and shafts of sunlight were making their way down through the growth in the swamp. There were a few birds roosting quietly in the trees and a couple of snowy white ibises hunting for frogs in the bullrushes.
And, as always, there were alligators—some camouflaged by the growth along the shore, others so fully submerged they were almost invisible until they moved. None of them had come near the cabin, though, so she wasn’t as nervous about them as she’d been at first.
She was just telling herself everything seemed perfectly normal when a fish jumped in the tea-colored water, startling her so badly that she almost jumped. As the ripples spread out in lazy circles, she turned and hurried into the cabin.
She doubted the lock would keep a child out, let alone a determined man. But at least Ben had trusted her enough to load the rifle Dezi had brought and show her how to use it.
“I’ll tell you what,” he’d said. “If you promise not to shoot me on my way out, I won’t leave you defenseless.”
She walked across the cabin and picked it up, thinking it might have been a good idea to shoot a hole in the damn boat. Then they’d both be stuck here.
Instead, Ben was on his way to New Orleans— where he’d undoubtedly be killed on sight by the first cop who saw through his disguise. Or, if that didn’t happen, someone was bound to turn him in for the reward money.
He’d avoided telling her exactly who he intended to talk to. But since Sandor Rossi had disappeared, she assumed he’d start with those detectives who’d backed away from his case.
And wouldn’t all three of them rush to tell the cops he was in the city?
The distant sound of a motor brought that train of thought to an abrupt halt. The rifle still in her hands, she hurried to the window, praying it was Ben coming back.
When she saw it wasn’t, her heart began to hammer. It was Spook making his way down the channel—his gaze fixed on the cabin.
Clutching the rifle tightly with both hands, she headed back to the dock. As she reached it, he cut his motor and drifted the rest of the way in.
“Well, that rifle don’t look none too friendly,” he said, his slow smile making her skin crawl.
“I’m not a very friendly person.”
“No? Well, I saw your husband leavin’. So it seemed like a good time for you an’ me ta get neighborly.”
“Sorry, but I’m right in the middle of doing something. I don’t have time for company.”
“That so?”
“Yes, that’s so.”
Spook eyed her for a moment, then quickly swung himself onto the dock.
“I said I was busy,” Monique told him, pressing her knees together so they wouldn’t begin knocking.
Shrugging, he slowly started toward her.
She took a frightened backward step, then raised the rifle and tucked it against her shoulder the way Ben had shown her. Until a second ago, she hadn’t been sure she could actually shoot anyone. Now she was.
“Get out of here,” she ordered.
He stopped, but didn’t back off. “Don’t look like you know how to use that thing.”
“Well I do. And I will if you don’t get going.”
When he shrugged again, she thought she’d won. Then, with lightning speed, he dove forward and grabbed the rifle barrel. She tried to hold on, but it took only a second for him to rip it from her hands and toss it into the water.
“Your husband kin dry it up later,” he said, giving her another of his revolting smiles. “But we’ll leave it outta the way for now.”
Futile as it was, she turned and started to run.
He grabbed her by the hair and jerked her back against him. He smelled of whiskey and sweat, and when he snaked one arm around her waist she thought she was going to throw up.
And then, through her terror, she heard Ben say, “Let go of the lady or you’re dead.”
BEN STOOD ANXIOUSLY at the window while Monique threw her things into her suitcase.
Dezi had said Spook’s place was a couple of miles away, and that didn’t take long by boat. So in case the guy had any ideas about getting a gun and coming back, the faster they took off, the better.
Monique snapped the lid of the case shut and glanced across the cabin.
“What?” he asked. She obviously had something on her mind, but looked uncertain about speaking.
“I…I was still too scared when Spook left to say much, but you might have saved my life, you know. At the very least you kept him from…”
When she didn’t finish the sentence, Ben said, “It’s just a good thing I saw him lurking down that canal.”
“It’s an even better thing you doubled back and followed him”.
After she said that, she smiled so warmly it felt as if someone had sucked all the breath from Ben’s body.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I just don’t know how to thank you.”
“Don’t double-cross me when we get to New Orleans,” he told her, striding over and picking up her case. “That’s all the thanks I want.”
“I won’t. I wouldn’t have before, and now…”
“Now what?”
“When I first realized you were there, when I saw you in that boat with your gun aimed at Spook, I thought you were going to kill him.”
“The idea certainly crossed my mind.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t.”
He took a couple of steps toward the door; Monique remained where she was.
“Ben?” she said when he glanced back.
“What?”
“If you were really a murderer, you would have killed him, wouldn’t you.”
He gazed at her for a moment, afraid he was misinterpreting her words—merel
y taking them to mean what he wanted them to.
“I told you before,” he said at last “I’ve never killed anyone.”
“I know,” she murmured. “When you didn’t shoot Spook, I knew for sure that killing isn’t in you.”
She didn’t lower her gaze, merely stood watching him. And there was no misinterpreting the invitation in her eyes.
It made him suddenly hot inside and drove every thought of Spook from his mind Setting the suitcase on the floor, he stepped back toward her.
Wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself close to him.
He merely held her for a minute, breathing in the freshness of her hair and the intoxicating scent of her perfume. He’d spent the last few nights lying next to her and aching to hold her. Now that he was, the soft warmth of her body against his felt so marvelous he could hardly believe he wasn’t dreaming.
“I’m sorry, Ben,” she whispered, gazing up at him.
“For what?” he murmured.
“For what you’ve gone through in the past three years. For testifying I saw you in Augustine’s when it was someone else. For being so sure when I was so wrong.”
“Shh.” He buried his hands in the coppery richness of her hair and simply looked at her for a second, thinking how incredibly beautiful she was. Then he covered her mouth with his and kissed her.
She tasted every bit as wonderful as she looked and smelled—like rare wine and sweet fruit. And she kissed with all the passion of a woman in love.
That thought wrapped itself around his heart and wouldn’t let go. But kissing him and loving him were two entirely different things.
He kissed her more deeply, barely able to think. A woman like Monique would never fall in love with a killer.
But she’d decided he was innocent So now…
His heart pounding in his ears, he broke their kiss before desire overwhelmed him.
“We’ve got to get going,” he said, forcing himself to take a step backward. “In case Spook gets another bright idea.”
Wordlessly, she reached for his hand. And hers felt so right in his it made his throat ache. Because unless he could manage to prove his innocence to the rest of the world, whatever had developed between them was doomed.
EVERY TIME BEN GLANCED across the Bronco at Monique he caught her watching him. And every time he did, she smiled.
It made him want to pull over and take her in his arms, but he couldn’t do anything that might draw attention to them. He sure didn’t want some state trooper pulling up on the shoulder behind them to see who was making out in the middle of Highway 90.
But once they got to the apartment… Hell, when he was aroused just driving along with her, what would he be like later?
“This apartment?” she said, making him wonder if she was a mind reader. “You’re sure nobody will find us there?”
Us. She couldn’t have any idea how hearing her say that made him feel.
“There’s no reason anyone should,” he told her. “It was rented under a false name long before I escaped.”
She was silent for a moment, then said, “Your escape was planned down to the last detail, wasn’t it”.
He looked over at her again, a tiny whisper of concern skittering through his mind. She already knew enough to put Dezi behind bars as an accomplice. And the thought of her learning about his sister’s part in things…
“You can trust me, Ben,” she murmured, making him almost certain she was into reading minds. “You still don’t believe that?”
“There haven’t been many people I could count on over the past few years.” He did believe he could trust her, though. Believed it almost completely. But if he was wrong, he’d end up either dead or back in Angola.
“Well, you can count on me,” she continued. “In fact…”
“In fact what?”
Monique hesitated. As hard as she was working at seeming cool, calm and collected, she was trembling inside. When Ben had come back and saved her from Spook… And then, when he’d kissed her…
She shut her eyes, trying to recapture the magic of that moment Since the day she’d gone into the program, she’d felt as if her emotions were on hold. There’d been no one in her new life she could even be completely honest with, let alone anyone she deeply cared about.
Maybe that had something to do with what had happened back in the cabin. Maybe all those emotions that had been locked away for so long had been released, en masse, and focused on Ben.
But whatever the cause, when he’d kissed her he’d made her feel brand new—as if no man had ever held her in his arms before. And such a surge of longing had rushed through her that she’d wondered if he’d somehow reached inside her and turned on a switch.
It was the first time in so long she’d felt really alive. And really close to another person. So close that if anything happened to him…
Nothing could. Incredible as it seemed, she’d fallen for Ben DeCarlo. Faster and harder than she’d ever fallen for any other man. And she had to do whatever she could to ensure he didn’t go back to prison.
“In fact what?” he asked again.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “I can help you.”
For a moment, he was silent She sat listening to the purr of the engine and the smooth hum of the wheels against the pavement, not exhaling until he quietly asked, “Help me with what?”
She looked at him and took another deep breath. “With finding your parents’ killer.”
Chapter Six
Friday, February 7
11:56 a.m.
Ben stared out at the highway ahead, letting the implication of what Monique had said sink in, aware it had banished his last lingering doubt about her.
She’d already gotten what she wanted. Instead of leaving her in the swamp, he was taking her back to New Orleans. And by this point she had to know he’d never harm her.
So her only possible reason for offering to help was that she cared enough to want to—which meant more than he could put into words.
He couldn’t let her get involved, though.
“Ben?” she said, clearly expecting him to say something about her offer.
When he glanced over at her a realization struck him, making him wonder why it hadn’t occurred to him immediately. If he no longer doubted her, if he didn’t have even a tiny, residual concern that she’d call the cops, there was no reason to keep her with him.
No reason except that the thought of being without her was enough to make his heart ache.
He let his willpower build, then forced himself to say, “A minute ago, you asked if I trust you.”
“Yes?”
“Well, I do. So…” The rest of words refused to come out, but he knew he had to make them.
Regardless of how much he wanted her with him, it wouldn’t be fair to her. It was too damn likely that things weren’t going to work out the way he was praying they would. And if he and Monique spent any more time together…
“Look,” he finally made himself continue, “I trust you enough that when we reach the city I’m letting you go.”
He tried to keep his eyes off her after he finished speaking, but when she didn’t say a word he couldn’t hold out
The moment he glanced at her, she said, “Ben, I trust you, too. And I know that everything I once believed about you was wrong. You never had anyone looking for me, did you. Never paid anyone to kill me.
“No, of course not. But this Nose creep did his best to make me look like scum. And that included threatening the prosecution’s witnesses—using my name, of course.”
She slowly shook her head. “Then I’ve been hiding out for more than two years when I never really needed to go into the program at all.”
“Maybe you didn’t at first But it’s just as well you did. I mean, since my retrial was granted, somebody did murder those two other witnesses.”
“To make people think you were behind more killings. Lord, whoever set you up played God with
so many lives. Your parents. Yours. The witnesses he threatened and the ones he killed. That makes me the lucky one in this whole mess. I can at least go back to my real life now. With the retrial over, they have no reason to make you look any worse. But you…
“Oh, Ben, it’s got to happen for you, too. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing you were in jail because of me.”
“You were only one of five.”
“But the point is I made a horrible mistake, which doesn’t exactly make me feel good about myself. And the only way I can think of changing that is to do whatever I can to help you.”
“Monique, you—”
“No. I want my real life back, but I want you to have yours, too. And after I’ve been in hiding all this time, I can wait a few more days to let my family know it’s over.”
His throat tight, he looked ahead at the road again. He couldn’t take her up on that. It just wouldn’t be right. But dammit, he couldn’t help wanting to.
“Ben?” she said. “I really can help. A woman was part of your original plan, remember? And the police are still looking for a man on his own.”
“No. It would be too dangerous.”
“Don’t be silly. It would be less dangerous. If people see you as part of a couple, there’ll be less chance anyone will realize who you are.”
“I meant dangerous for you. If The Nose discovered you were helping me, he—”
“But he wouldn’t.”
“Uh-uh. It’s just too risky, and I’m not only thinking about The Nose. Some of the people I’ll have to contact aren’t exactly up for any Citizen of the Year awards.”
“Ben, I’m not saying I should be involved in everything, but the fewer people who know you’re in the city, the better. So what about those private detectives? Why couldn’t I go and see them instead of you?”
“Because they’d have no reason to tell you anything. I might be able to convince them, but—”
“I could give them a reason. I could say… How about that I’m an investigative reporter? That I work for a tabloid, and it would pay a small fortune for the name of whoever made them back off your case? If I guaranteed they’d remain anonymous as my source, it just might work.”
The Valentine Hostage Page 7