Lucky Thirteen (The Raiford Chronicles Book 1)

by Janet Taylor-Perry

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something slinky. I have reservations at a really swanky place.”

  ♣♣♣

  Raif tapped lightly on the door to Chris’s hotel suite. She opened the door quickly. “Wow!” she gasped. “You look as if you stepped from the pages of GQ. You wore the Armani.” The navy blue double-breasted pin stripe with a starched white button-down shirt and a red silk tie was elegant.

  He gulped at his own little surprise. Chris was decked in the definitive little black dress: satin, strapless, fitted, stopping at mid-thigh. High-heeled Roman sandals accentuated her muscular calves, and an onyx choker punctuated her long slender neck. Her short, dark blonde hair lay in perfect layers. Over her shoulder he saw a set table, complete with candles.

  Raif nodded as his eyes roved over every inch of her body. His dimples deepened in appreciation. “I’m flexible. Dining in is good.”

  Chris slid her hands up his arms as she whispered, “It gives us time together.”

  Raif shook his head. “Not enough.” He pulled Chris to him and kissed her as he had only fantasized before. He maneuvered her to her bed. Dinner was the last thing on either of their minds.

  ♣♣♣

  Raif woke as the sun streaked the sky. He reached over only to find an empty bed. He sat up and called, “Chris?”

  Looking down, he saw a piece of paper in the shape of a heart with lip prints on it. A simple message read:

  “Chris’s heart. You hold it in your hands.”

  “Damn it!” muttered Raif as he realized Chris had left for the New Orleans airport without waking him. He dressed as quickly as possible. Knowing there was no way he could catch the FBI agent before she boarded her plane back to D.C., he did the next best thing. He tossed his jacket and tie into the back seat of his Nissan and broke every traffic law racing to his brother’s office.

  Raif burst into Ray’s office since the detective had returned to work after his ordeal. Uncharacteristically, Raif rudely demanded, “I need your help! Get off the damned phone!”

  “I’ll call you back. My brother’s here.” Ray hung up the phone. “This had better be more important than speaking with the governor about Audrey.”

  ♣♣♣

  Chris checked her bags. Since she had a couple of hours before her flight, she decided to grab breakfast when her stomach rumbled. Seeing as how dinner was never touched last night, I’m starving. As she sat down to hot beignets and coffee, her cell phone rang. Thinking happily that it was Raif, she did not look at the number.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi,” a young voice said. “You don’t know me, but I think I’m your daughter.”

  Chris almost choked and literally spewed coffee across the table. “Lindsay?”

  “You do know me.”

  “No, not exactly.”

  “Well, no matter. I’m Lindsay Kersh. I think you’re my biological mother. I’ve been looking for you since October when my folks were killed in a car crash.”

  Chris’s heart raced. “Killed? I didn’t know. I didn’t get that information.” She pressed her chest with her hand. “I’ve been looking for you, too. I only discovered where you were a couple of days ago.”

  “Well, I would call that irony.” Chris jerked her chin back and inhaled sharply at Lindsay’s tone of voice.

  The girl went on. “Now, I’m sure you had good reason to give me up for adoption, and the Kershes were good parents; so, I’m not mad or seeking revenge or anything like that. I’m sixteen and can be declared an emancipated minor. That’s just it. I’m sixteen. I need a mother. I was hoping I could meet you. Maybe we could get to know each other.”

  “I would love that, more than you know.” She squeezed her eyes shut to stop tears.

  “Good.” The boarding call for a flight could be heard in the background. “Where are you?”

  Almost unable to breathe, Chris said, “Right now I’m making the second biggest mistake of my life. The first was giving you away.” She checked the board for the status of her flight. “Now, I’m sitting in the airport in New Orleans waiting for the flight to take me to D.C. and away from the best man I’ve ever known.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s my job. I’m FBI. I have to get back to Quantico.”

  “Why?”

  Sassy and impertinent.

  “Can’t you be a cop wherever this man is?”

  “Well, I guess, I could, but…”

  “Hey, I’m just a teenager, but what? Which is more important—the job or the man? I can get a flight to New Orleans just as easily as Washington, D.C. You decide, and I’ll book a flight. I’ll call you and let you know when to pick me up. It makes no difference to me.”

  Chris turned her phone to look at it, trying to picture the girl who talked with such brazenness. “You seem a little bossy, young lady,” she said, putting the phone back to her ear.

  “Yeah, I know. My parents always said I must have gotten that from my biological parents, maybe you.”

  “Good heavens! If we get together, I think we’ll have to set some rules.”

  “Fine with me. So, which is it—The Big Easy or the Big Sleazy?”

  “You’ve helped me make my decision.” I don’t think I can handle you alone.

  ♣♣♣

  “What do you need, big brother?” Ray hung up the phone and eyed Raif curiously. “I’ve never seen you so disturbed or demanding.”

  Breathlessly, Raif poured out his needs. “I need you to keep Chris’s plane from taking off. I need time to get to New Orleans. I have to stop her leaving. I can’t let her go. I love her, and I was a fool not to tell her. What can you do?”

  “Slow down, Raif.” Ray held his hand up in a signal to tell his brother to halt. “Have you ever heard of a telephone? Why don’t you just call her?”

  “You don’t tell a woman for the first time that you love her over the telephone. I’m old-fashioned. I have to look into her eyes. Please, Ray, help me.”

  “Hmm.” Ray scratched his chin. “Well, I could call the airport and have her held as a possible terrorist.”

  “I don’t want her hurt!”

  “Still, that’s one sure way of keeping her detained.” He gave a short laugh. “Then, we can head out with sirens blaring all the way. I can do 100, 120, all the way there. It’ll give me a good reason to really let the GT out and see what she’ll truly do.” He shifted imaginary gears in the air.

  “Do it.” Although he had not had a migraine since high school Raif closed his eyes briefly and rubbed his forehead. He did not see the smirk on Ray’s face. Nor, did he see Ray press the receiver button after dialing his own house phone. He only listened to a one-sided conversation.

  “This is Detective Raiford Reynolds of the Eau Bouease Police Department…Yes, I need you to detain one Christine Milovich…She’s booked on flight”—Ray looked at Raif questioningly.

  “Delta 1201.”

  “She’s booked on Delta flight 1201…She’s posing as an FBI agent. She’s a suspected terrorist…Yes, she’s armed, and you should consider her very dangerous…Don’t harm her. We need to question her…I’m leaving immediately…Thanks so much for your help.” Ray hung up the receiver.

  “Well?” demanded Raif. He thrust his hands out.

  Shaking his head decisively, Ray said, “I can assure you Chris is not on that flight to D.C.”

  “No, she’s not,” came a feminine voice from the doorway. “But all you had to do was ask.”

  “Chris!” shouted Raif as he spun around. “How long have you been there?”

  “Several minutes. Long enough to hear that you would let people think I was a terrorist. Long enough to hear you say, ‘I love her.’ Try saying it to my face.”

  “I love you.” Raif pulled Chris to him. “Don’t leave. Don’t ever leave. Stay here. Marry me.”

  Chris giggled. The shield over Raif’s heart just evaporated. “Not the most romantic proposal, but, yes,” sh
e responded. “I love you, too. I already emailed my resignation.” She had a pleased smile on her face, as she rested both hands against his chest. “Ray, I hope you still have a place for another detective. You are lead detective now.”

  “As my first official act, I’ll make one just for my sister-in-law.”

  “There’s more.” Chris took a steadying breath and patted her lover’s chest with both her hands. “Raif, I hope you can handle a ready-made family. My daughter will be arriving day after tomorrow.”

  “Whoa!” He stepped back, eyes wide. “It works for me.” His dimples stretch to their limit. “Is this a permanent move?”

  “Yes. The Kershes were killed in October, the same day I first met you.”

  “Why do I sense you’re hedging?”

  Chris sighed. “Lindsay sounds a little headstrong. I might need your help with her.”

  “I’ll do anything I can, but I refuse to wait forever to get married.” He stepped back and lifted her chin. “How fast can you put this together?”

  “How does February 13th sound?”

  “Perfect.” He pointed at his brother. “Ray, you’ll be my best man.”

  “You know it.”

  Chris said, “You know who’ll be my maid of honor, Ray. Can you handle that?”

  “Just don’t invite LaFontaine.”

  “Nope. Just family and close friends.”

  ♣♣♣

  Raif and Chris met Lindsay at the airport two days later. She had obviously come prepared to stay. Dragging two large wheeled bags and a backpack strapped over her shoulders, she looked around to find the woman who had given her life.

  Raif tapped Chris’s shoulder as he pointed out a girl in ragged jeans, a Widespread Panic t-shirt, and dangling peace-sign earrings. “I’d have known her anywhere. She looks just like you.” There could be no denying she was Chris’s daughter. She looked like her mother. She had the same soft brown eyes and dark blonde hair that she wore long and straight parted on the side. At sixteen, she was only an inch shorter than her mother.

  Chris waved. A smile broke across the girl’s face as she saw the man she had talked about with her mother had come to meet her as well. Good sign. They want me here. And, damn! How could you want to leave that piece of eye candy, Chris?

  “Ground rule number one,” Chris said upon meeting. “I’m in charge.”

  Lindsay laughed. “You said you’d have some rules. My first rule is: Don’t ever search my things.”

  Chris arched an eyebrow. Behind his fiancée’s back, Raif touched his index finger and thumb to his lips a couple of times and winked at his soon-to-be stepdaughter. The girl’s smile got bigger. “I think this is going to work just fine, Chris.”

  They stowed Lindsay’s things in Raif’s Nissan. She said, “I have a few more things being shipped to the address you gave me.”

  “What address was that?” asked Raif.

  “Yours,” Chris confessed.

  “Okay.” Raif grinned and kissed her hand. “Sure of yourself, weren’t you, lady?”

  As they drove, Chris explained the circumstances surrounding the girl’s birth. Lindsay accepted Chris had acted only with the child’s best interests at heart even if her decision had been made under duress. Mother and child connected, and a bond formed easily, to Chris’s relief.

  The first night there, Chris invited Larkin and Ray to eat with her, Raif, and Lindsay. Ray and Larkin were cordial to each other. Lindsay eyed them and gave her mother a questioning look and received a wink. Lindsay said, “I think I’m gonna love my new family.” Within days, she set about planning a wedding in a month.

  Mother and daughter went together to pick up Chris’s wedding dress and shop for shoes. As Chris tried on pair after pair, Lindsay brought a pair of flat peau de soie pumps with a strap around the ankle to her. The girl sighed. “Chris, were you ever a ballerina?”

  Every time the child called her by name, the woman’s heart ached to be called Mom, but that would take time. She answered, “Yes, until my mother died. Why?”

  “The dress looks so much like a flowing tutu.” She handed the shoes to her mother. “Try these. You wouldn’t want to be taller than Raif, would you?” Her grin turned mischievous.

  “Good point. What else is on your mind?”

  “You’re observant.”

  “Goes with both territories, mother and cop.”

  Matching brown eyes looked into Chris’s. “Did you love my dad?”

  A moment’s pause elapsed before Chris replied, “As much as a fourteen-year-old can love, but I have always loved you. I did what I thought was best for you. I hope you truly understand.”

  “I do. The Kershes loved me lots.” She sighed. “Just before they died, I had a pregnancy scare.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t worry. It was a false alarm.”

  Showing some agitation, Chris asserted, “As soon as I get back from my honeymoon, you and I have a doctor’s appointment.” She rubbed her face in anxiety. “Birth control is a better alternative than an unexpected pregnancy, but use condoms anyway.”

  Lindsay laughed. “I don’t even have a boyfriend here yet. Relax.”

  “Any attractions?”

  “A few. One in particular, but this is the South, so I’m not sure how it would fly.”

  Chris raised an eyebrow. “I’m not a native southerner. Who?”

  Lindsay leaned in and whispered to her mother. Pulling back she asked, “So, what do you think, Mom? Tar and feathers or do you believe in love at first sight, at least first meet?”

  Tears welled in Chris’s eyes. “I believe you’ll make wise choices.” She stroked her daughter’s hair. Lindsay rested a hand on top of her mother’s. The bond sealed.

  ♣♣♣

  While the women put the wedding together, Raif supervised the laying of the foundation of his dream house. I told you this would be the wedding gift to my wife. I really hope you like it.

  As he gave instructions to the contractor, Chris drove up. She came over and slipped an arm around her fiancé’s waist. “I love my house.”

  The architect indicated the builder could get to work. “Really?”

  “When I saw the blueprint, I told Ray I would give my right arm to live in this house.”

  Raif kissed her. “No need to sacrifice a limb, only give me your heart.”

  “Always and forever.”

  Lindsay met all her new family, and they loved her. She loved them, and Larkin no less than the others. As they talked during wedding plans, Lindsay discovered how much the two of them had in common. She related to “Aunt” Larkin on a deep level because Larkin had lost both her parents at a young age and could understand the feelings Lindsay had. Lindsay sensed her new aunt needed her assistance more than her new mother. I’ll fix you up, too, as soon as I get Mom situated.

  ♣♣♣

  As the women planned the wedding and Raif worked on building his house, Ray continued negotiations with the state attorney general for Audrey’s parole. The female attorney general was sympathetic to the case. She read the documents Ray presented and interviewed several witnesses in the original case. She tracked Audrey’s family to Minnesota and received a cold reception. The comment made was, “Our daughter died in 1977.” She left it at that and told Ray what was said.

  “Fuck ’em,” he muttered. “Can you present a case for Audrey’s release? I’ll personally guarantee her compliance with any conditions.”

  “I think I can,” said Darlene Houston.

  “In time for my brother’s wedding?”

  The state official puffed out air. “No promises. I’ll call you.”

  A week before the wedding, Ray received a call. “You can meet Audrey van Zandt at the front gate of the prison in three hours,” Houston’s voice relayed in triumph.

  “I’m on my way. I owe you big time.”

  After reviewing the case and hearing Audrey’s story, the Louisiana Supreme Court heard arguments; and the judge’s s
entence of life without parole was commuted to twenty-five years to life. After thirty-one years, Audrey van Zandt was paroled and came home to Eau Bouease.

  With only a navy blue polyester blend skirt and a simple white button-up blouse to wear and a few toiletries and under garments in a small valise, Audrey slid into the passenger seat of Ray’s Mustang.

  “What will I do out here, Ray?” She broke several miles of silence. “I have nowhere to live and no job.”

  “Well, actually, you do.”

  “Huh? How?”

  “I was optimistic. I know you completed your high school requirements and got a degree in library science while in prison.”

  “Yes.”

  “Raif and I rented you an apartment in the same complex where I live, three doors down, and with my recommendation, you have a job in the library as an assistant.”

  She laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. “I need a few more clothes. Did you buy those too?”

  He shook his head. “No. Raif did. He has good taste in women’s clothes. I think you’ll be pleased.”

  “I already am. My boys are awesome.”

  Audrey spent time getting to know her sons, but never usurped Dorothy Reynolds as Ray’s mother or Raif’s surrogate mother. She adored Chris and understood her on a deep, personal level. And the moment she met Larkin she turned to Ray and said, “Why aren’t you having a double wedding? You’re obviously head-over-heels for that woman. The harder you try to deny it, the more you both suffer.”

  “Not you, too, please,” Ray whined.

  So, on Raif’s wedding day, Audrey celebrated the joy of one son but fretted the misery of the other.

  ♣♣♣

  Raif and Chris’s wedding went off without a hitch. Raif had his actual mother filling the seat where the mother of the groom was supposed to sit.

  All in all, February 13th, was the perfect day for the couple. The wedding was informal and held in the morning. The groom wore a simple, but elegantly cut tailored suit while Chris chose a cream-colored, street-length satin and silk dress that resembled a ballerina’s costume with a soft, flowing, romantic tutu. She wore the shoes Lindsay had chosen, flats so she would not be taller than Raif. Before only family and their closest friends, among freshly sprung daffodils, beneath Japanese magnolia branches heavy with bloom, between rows of azaleas and under a brilliant azure sky, they were married at the Reynolds’s beach-front home in Biloxi in the gazebo. Larkin caught the bouquet on a deliberate aim from the bride.