Gigi Cockerill paid daily visits to Parker, and he gave her updates. She reported that Chief of Police Raiford Reynolds had placed every member of his family in protective custody in other states and even some out of the country.
Gigi's visits began to include dinner, and she came later and later. After a couple of weeks, she brought wine with dinner.
Parker, focused on the case at hand, had not read the signs. When Gigi put the moves on after a couple of glasses of wine, Parker jumped away like a little boy.
"Parker, this could be more fun than you're making it," cajoled Gigi.
"I'm married," Parker reminded.
"I didn't ask you to get a divorce."
"Let's get something clear now," Parker asserted. "I have no intention of cheating on my wife. If you want this exchange to work, you'll have to play by my rules:
Rule one—No touching.
Rule two—No more late night visits.
Rule three—No alcohol.
"It's time for you to leave now. Good night, Gigi."
Gigi left deflated. Yes, he was a few years younger than she was, but Parker was gorgeous. Gigi had never been rejected by a man like that. It confused her.
Parker was flustered. He had never slept with a woman other than Sheena, and to have someone try to seduce him rattled his nerves. The closest he had ever come had been making out with Loraine in college while he and Sheena had been on different campuses. He was playing with fire by being the liaison with Gigi Cockerill. To calm his nerves, he called his rock, his wife, and told her everything. He felt he might need his own protective custody.
18
Civilian Targets
Shreveport, Louisiana
January 3, 2028
Two civilians were already dead by the time the banks closed on Monday. The tall, muscular state police officer topped the ladder to the rooftop where one of his fellow officers, a sharpshooter, lay flat on his stomach and took aim toward the bank across the street. It was his assignment to take out the two perpetrators inside the facility. He put his hand to his ear device. "Copy that. I hear him now."
As the second trooper inched his way toward the sniper, a flash from the bank caught his eye. A rumble of thunder drowned out the shot, but the sharpshooter lay dead, blood pooling around his half-missing head.
Realizing there was a third robber on the rooftop of the bank, the man who had just come onto the roof picked up the sniper rifle, found the shooter on top of the opposite building, and fired before the third bank robber knew what had happened. With a stern look on his face and a glint in his hazel eyes, he wiped freezing rain from the top of his shaved head. He reloaded and took aim through the barely cracked blind of the bank. A second robber hit the marble tile floor as the hostages took matters into their own hands and brought down the third.
The following Monday morning the assembly applauded as the governor pinned the medal of valor on the officer who had acted quickly and heroically when his colleague fell. As a result of his quick thinking and action, he was being decorated and claiming a spot in the elite brotherhood of sharpshooters for the state police, a position he had aspired to for a long time.
The twenty-nine-year-old orphan of military parents had waited an eternity to be in a place where he could avenge his mother's death. At long last, it was here. His grandmother had taught him that revenge was "a dish best served cold." After nineteen years, this dish was frigid, rock solid. The smile on his face was not joy, or even pride. On the contrary, it was anticipation of being able to vent his hatred and anger of a lifetime.
Eau Boueuse, Louisiana
January 23, 2030
Opening his eyes from remembering a special day, Lloyd punched the wall of his apartment, leaving a gaping hole in the sheetrock. Raiford Reynolds was making his goal more difficult. He only had two more people to make Reynolds's life a living hell. He laughed out loud. "Oh, Reynolds, do you really think you need those bodyguards? I have no intention of killing you. I want you to feel as empty as I've felt my whole life. I'm not totally heartless. I'll leave you your kids unless Parker gets in the way. Then, he'll just be collateral damage.
"So, you've made my job a little harder. I love a challenge. Yes, I'll leave your kids alive, but I'm gonna have some fun with them before the little wife sees my mom."
Biloxi, Mississippi
February 23, 2030
Larkin hated inaction as much as her husband, but she would protect her children. Christopher and Courtney had always loved summers at their grandparents' house on the beach. However, this year everywhere they went, armed police officers went with them. Cherie, her and Ray's youngest, was undaunted by the presence of a police officer; Larkin and Sheena went everywhere with her anyway. Cherie loved spending time with Sheena and her mother. It made her feel grown up, even if she was only five and a half.
The first week in Biloxi, the family spent almost every day at the beach. Although it was still quite chilly, Larkin home-schooled on the beach to keep them from feeling like prisoners. Christopher and Courtney did not wander far from their mother's watchful eye, but they began to feel like caged animals. Larkin and Sheena felt a bit restricted too.
In an effort to burn some of their energy, Larkin and Sheena dressed up and visited the Grand Casino. They told the two plain-clothes police officers who insisted on going with them that they had appear to be two men with two women. Dorothy Reynolds patted one of the officers on the arm. "Don't argue. Just do it," she said.
Looking like two couples, Larkin and Sheena hit a blackjack table with their escorts standing behind them for moral support and applauding their winnings. After several hours and many drinks, the ladies left tipsy, laughing, and, between them, five thousand dollars richer.
Lloyd watched the two women from a healthy distance. He liked the idea that they were risk-takers. He had a momentary twinge of conscience about ridding the world of one of them.
Biloxi, Mississippi
March 23, 2030
Weeks became a couple of months. Christopher approached his mother. "Momma, there's a beach party tonight. Courtney and I would like to go."
"Okay," said Larkin.
The seventeen-year-old rolled his eyes. "Momma, the other kids won't want cops there."
"Are they going to be doing something illegal?"
"Maybe. They might at least have beer there, and some of them might not be drinking age."
"Then, you can't go. Don't argue. Daddy would have a fit."
Christopher sighed, "I had to try."
"I know you did." She patted his cheek. "Christopher, don't sneak out. I will personally check your bed."
"I figured you would, Momma." The boy left his mother's room.
"Well?" Courtney asked in the hall.
"Forget it," said Christopher. "We'll have to make the next one, but we won't ask."
The next day at the beach, Christopher was surrounded by barely-clad females. All of them wanted to know why he had not made the party the night before.
"It's sort of hard to lose the troops," Christopher said dejectedly and jerked his head toward his mother and the police escort.
One cute blonde slipped her arm around Christopher's waist. "Christopher Reynolds, do you recognize me?"
Christopher stared at the girl for a minute. "Kimberly LaFontaine?"
"You got it!"
"Wow!" His eyes roved over her body. "You've changed. You look a lot different from the Christmas cards."
"You too."
"Are you gonna be at the party tonight?"
"You bet. Try and find me."
"Will Kyle be there?"
Kimberly shrugged. "I don't know. I don't hang with my twin much these days." She wrinkled her nose. "He's the one that's changed."
"How so?"
"He shaved his head. He got a tattoo—that same grotesque two-headed serpent that Dad had. Mom nearly flipped when she saw it. Some of his boys are downright slugs." Her tone dripped disdain for her brother's boys.
"I'm not a slug." Kim's words cut through his thoughts. "But I do like to party. Try and come tonight. I'd like to hang out."
"Any chance of hanging out alone?" Christopher asked with a mischievous grin, putting his disturbing thought to the back of his mind. A pretty girl was more important.
"You never can tell. I gotta go. My friends and I are going to the mall. We've gotta get a new spring wardrobe." She giggled.
As Kimberly drifted away, Christopher called, "Hey! Wait! Can I call you?"
"Sure." Kimberly wrote her phone number on his palm with a Sharpie she pulled from the small shoulder bag she had.
When Christopher returned to the family Larkin asked, "Who was the girl that was all over you?"
"Kimberly LaFontaine."
"Really?" She looked back toward where the teenage girl that was almost the same age as Courtney walked toward a modern Volkswagen Beetle. Looks a lot different from the one I had when I met Ray. "We haven't seen the twins at all in three years. Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell came for Aunt Chris's funeral, and Uncle Raif has seen Saul Blackwell since he's the firm's attorney."
"Yeah. I got her number." He waved his palm in triumph.
"That's interesting. Where's her twin."
"I don't know." The boy shrugged. "She says he's not very nice these days. He's a lot like his father, I guess."
"That's too bad."
"Yeah. Kim seems sweet. She sure has, um, grown up."
Larkin eyed Christopher. "Where are they staying? It's spring break."
"I didn't ask. They used to have a beach house in Gulfport, didn't they?"
"Yes, they did."
"I guess they still do, then. Hey, Court, you want a slushy?" He jerked his head toward the food vendor a little way down the beach.
"Sure," said Courtney, springing to her feet.
The brother and sister walked a few yards down the beach to a concessions vendor.
"Okay," conspired Christopher. "Kim wants me to come to a party tonight. If you help me get out tonight, I'll help you another night. Deal?"
"Deal." They bumped fists.
After dinner, Christopher hit the video games and Courtney hit up her mother. "Momma, you've been doing all kinds of things with Cherie since we got here. I have an idea. Why don't all of us ladies, Meemaw included, go get our nails done? Papaw can babysit Christopher and Ashton for a couple of hours. Maybe we could even go to a chick flick together."
"What are you up to?" asked Larkin, instantly suspicious.
"Nothing. I'm just a little jealous of my baby sister. Please, Momma?"
"Sheena, what do you think?" asked Larkin.
"Why not? It could be girls' night out. Another time Papaw and Christopher can do something, like a round of golf, and if they want to do something so they can take a baby boy with them—okay."
"Dorothy?" asked Larkin.
"She's a sneaky little dickens, Larkin, but I would enjoy the time. I recall the spring break when she and Christopher instigated the deep-sea fishing expedition when Parker first arrived." She puckered her lips. "It turned out all right. Albert, don't let Christopher out of your sight."
"He's on the video game. He usually spends hours there," Albert Reynolds said defensively.
"That's true," said Larkin. "I hope he wouldn't try to pull something on his grandfather. Of course, he is Ray's son."
Albert held up a finger. "Now, you're scaring me," he joked. "Especially since the pot is calling the kettle black there. Who was it that sneaked back to Eau Boueuse to help Ray a few years back—and when she was pregnant with my little sweetie?"
Albert held his arms out to Cherie who gave her grandfather a big hug.
Larkin laughed. "Guilty."
"Go, ladies. Have some fun. If I need you, I'll call."
Cherie was excited to have her nails done like her momma's. Courtney watched her little sister and felt guilty that she had used her as an excuse. She knew that by now Ashton was asleep in his crib at Meemaw and Papaw's, and Papaw was asleep in his chair. Christopher should be at the beach. "Boy, you owe me," she mumbled under her breath.
After their nails were done, the ladies picked out the newest animated Disney movie. Courtney sat beside her mother, and her conscience nagged her relentlessly.
Christopher crept behind the shrubbery, watching the officers at their cars warily, and then dashed down the driveway and across the highway. At least two of them followed Momma. The beach party half a mile down the beach was in full swing.
Christopher spotted Kimberly near the bonfire and made his way to her. "Hey!" she said when she saw him. "You made it."
"Yeah. I wanted to hang out with you."
"Really? Just me? There were a lot of girls around you today."
"I didn't get anybody else's phone number, did I?
"Did you?"
"No."
Kim slipped her hand into Christopher's. "Are you hungry?" she asked. "We have hotdogs."
"No, I had dinner already. My grandmother makes the best fettuccini Alfredo."
"Yum. That's better than hotdogs."
"Yeah."
"Do you want a beer or a Coke?"
"What are you having?"
"Coke. I don't like beer."
"Then, I'll have Coke."
Kim got Christopher a Coke. "Do you want to take a walk?" she asked innocently.
"Yeah. It's hard to talk over all the noise." Christopher took Kim's hand, and they walked down the beach. They chatted and caught up on each other's lives over the last six years, since her father's murder.
"So? Where are you going to college next year?" Kim asked.
"LSU. Is there anywhere else?"
Kim laughed. "Are you gonna join our fathers' fraternity?"
"Probably. I am, after all, a legacy. Are y'all still in Baton Rouge?"
"Yeah. Mom married Saul Blackwell."
"I remember. Momma and Daddy went to the wedding, but left us at home since they got married on a school night."
"That's right." She laughed a little. "He's a good guy, but Kyle hates him. He and Mom have a little boy, Tate. Kyle hates him, too, but he's my little sweetheart. That's why they kinda got married fast. I'm not sure Kyle realizes it, but I can count months. Kyle hates everybody nowadays."
"I'm sorry. Does he hate you?"
"No, but he tries to control my life. I hate his friends. He makes Mom cry all the time."
Christopher scowled. "Would you like me to talk to him?"
"Thanks, but it would only make him meaner."
"Is he at the party?"
"I didn't see him. I hope he doesn't show up. I'm having a good time. I'd like to keep it that way."
"Well, we're really not at the party, are we? Would you like to sit on the pier?"
"Yeah. We've walked a long way."
"Do you wanna go back?" Christopher made a half turn.
"Not yet."
They sat on the side of the pier and dangled their feet over the edge. Christopher asked, "Do you think we could get together next year after I get to LSU?"
"I'd like that. I'm sure Mom wouldn't mind. You're Raiford Reynolds's son."
"Yeah," sighed Christopher with a grimace, guilt niggling at his conscience. "You know, we're in protective custody right now because of the police officers being killed. I sneaked out to come and see you tonight. My dad is gonna skin me, if Momma doesn't beat him to it."
"Your dad is just worried about you. You should be glad. My dad never cared."
"He should have. You're pretty awesome."
"Maybe if he had," said Kim softly, "Kyle wouldn't be in so much pain now. He paid even less attention to Kyle than he did me."
"That's sad, but you could be right."
Kim looked up at Christopher. She had her father's soft blue eyes but her mother's dark hair. Christopher leane
d in to kiss her, and she responded.
Somewhere near them a gruff voice said, "Kimberly LaFontaine, what the hell are you doing?"
"Oh, God!" sighed Kim. "Kyle, go away."
The temperature seemed to drop instantly.
Kyle LaFontaine walked up and glared at Christopher. "Who the hell are you?" he asked angrily.
"Hello, Kyle. Christopher Reynolds."
"Oh!" Kyle laughed sinisterly. "You made this too damned easy."
"What are you talking about?"
Kyle and four other teenage boys got close enough for Christopher to see their faces. "Of course," said Kyle, "you weren't supposed to know us."
"Oh, my God!" exclaimed Christopher as he took in the appearance of the five boys. All wore swim trunks and either tank tops or open Hawaiian shirts. Each had shaved heads, and Kyle had a grotesque black-and-red double-headed serpent tattooed on his chest.
"What's the matter?" asked Kyle. "Scared?"
"Not hardly." Christopher squeezed Kimberly's hand. "Kim, get away from here."
"Why?"
"You're not safe."
"I'm not gonna hurt my sister," snapped Kyle.
"No, just me," said Christopher calmly. "But do you think she's gonna sit here and let it happen? Kyle, I wanna ask you something, and I don't want her to hear it."
"You're really not scared, are you, Reynolds?"
"No."
"Kim, take off," ordered Kyle.
"No. I'm not gonna let you and your slugs hurt Christopher. There are five of you."
Kyle snarled, "Kim, take off!"
"What part of no did you not understand, the N or the O? I'm not leaving."
"Beasley, get her out of here," ordered Kyle. One of his cohorts started toward Kim.
"Touch me. I dare you." Kim held up a can of pepper spray that was attached to her keychain. She stood and aimed for the boy's face.
"Man, this is getting out of hand. That asshole doesn't have to know we failed," said the one called Beasley.
Broken (The Raiford Chronicles #3 Book 1) Page 13