Hot Pursuit

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Hot Pursuit Page 11

by Lynn Raye Harris


  He felt his way through the darkness without use of the flashlight—he’d shoved it into his waistband just in case he needed it—keeping an ear cocked for any noise that didn’t jibe with the sounds of a summer night.

  Evie followed close behind, grasping his T-shirt for guidance. He led her around the back of the house, flicked on the flashlight, and swept it over the area. Her mother’s little pickup looked normal enough. No open doors, no broken glass.

  He turned and put his mouth against Evie’s ear, inhaling the clean scent of her hair as he spoke. “Wait here for a second while I check the back door.”

  She nodded and he left her standing beside the truck while he worked his way up the wooden stairs. The door was locked. He considered picking the lock and slipping inside, but discarded the idea for two reasons. One, Evie would follow. Two, though the situation seemed odd, there was every chance her mother was inside asleep. With his luck, if he startled her, he’d either end up dead from a shotgun blast or she’d have a heart attack and keel over.

  He wasn’t taking the chance. He returned to Evie and made for the other side of the house. When he came to the main power meter, he stopped and lifted the flap.

  Sonofabitch.

  The circuit breakers were off. Not a good sign at all. If he flipped them on, he’d lose any chance he had for surprise. On the other hand, whoever had turned the power off would have seen the headlights when Matt turned into the drive. Assuming the guy was still here.

  And Matt couldn’t keep slinking around looking for the perpetrator when he had Evie tagging along.

  He had no other choice. He flipped the breaker switch and the front of the house lit up like someone ignited a bonfire. There were no other noises, no footsteps or slamming doors or, thank God, gunfire.

  Matt glanced at Evie. She worried her lower lip with her teeth. “Somebody shut it off, didn’t they?”

  “Yeah,” he admitted.

  “Is it safe to go in?”

  “I don’t know.” That was the truth. “I need to go alone.”

  She studied him, her brow creasing. “I know. Do you want me to stay here, or is there a better place?”

  He admired her more in that moment than he ever had. She was worried, maybe even scared, but when push came to shove, she accepted that he would be better off operating alone. Smart woman.

  “Stay here and I’ll come for you when it’s clear.” He’d rather she was in the car, but he’d have to take her back around the house to get her there. Better to do what needed to be done and hope for the best.

  Still, he wasn’t quite at ease with the situation. Norma Breaux’s car was here and the lights were out. To his mind, that didn’t bode well. If she’d been robbed, if she’d been hurt—well, he’d rather find that out alone.

  He stayed close to the side of the house, moving as silently as he could until he reached the front. He studied the area for a long moment and then took the steps up to the porch when he felt it was safe.

  Once he reached the top, he jerked to a stop. There was a body near the front door, but it wasn’t Norma’s. Matt padded over and hunkered down beside the lifeless form. Male, about thirty, slightly overweight. Blond hair, goatee, pasty skin. Blue sweatshirt, jeans.

  A pool of blood congealed beneath the body, which lay facedown, head turned to the left. A carving knife lay off to the side, the eight-inch blade bloody. The handle appeared clean, though.

  If this were an op, Matt would go through the guy’s pockets, find some identification. But here, he couldn’t touch anything. He was taking a risk entering the house, but he had to do it. He had to know if Evie’s mother and sister were in there, and if they were alive. Yeah, he’d fuck up the crime scene a little bit by going in, but he couldn’t go back out there and tell Evie there was a dead guy—probably her ex-partner—and give her no information about her family.

  Colonel Mendez would have Matt’s skin if he learned about this. Best to make sure he didn’t hear about it then. Though how in the hell that was happening, Matt wasn’t certain. Mendez had an uncanny sense of trouble on the brew. So uncanny that Matt almost expected his phone to start buzzing in his pocket at any second.

  Matt gave the body a wide berth as he worked his way over to the front door. He stuck his hand into the tail of his T-shirt to turn the knob and the door swung open on squeaky hinges.

  A lamp was on in the living room, illuminating yellow walls, wood floors, and an entertainment center against the far wall. The television was off. Two chairs flanked the cabinet and a couch faced the television, its back to the door. Matt glanced over the room as he headed for the rear of the house.

  He stopped short when he saw the body sprawled in front of the couch.

  Norma Breaux was on her stomach, one hand to her side, the other bent beneath her. Matt crossed the distance in two steps and knelt beside her. Her pulse was strong. He let out a breath, surprised at how his heart kicked up at the sight of Evie’s mother lying so still.

  This kind of thing didn’t usually get to him. It was all part of the business. But this was home, goddammit. This kind of violence wasn’t supposed to happen here. Yeah, good old boys got drunk and had fights—or shot off weapons and took hostages, apparently—but murder? It wasn’t right.

  Matt didn’t move her while he did a quick check for any injuries. When he was satisfied she hadn’t been shot or stabbed, he snatched up the phone on the end table and placed a call to 911. In the minutes left to him before the emergency vehicles would arrive, he cased the rest of the small house.

  There was no sign of Sarah, and no evidence of a struggle. If the girl had been here, she’d either left willingly before any of this happened, or she’d been marched out at gunpoint. But he’d bet his next paycheck Sarah hadn’t been here. Call it instinct or whatever, but he couldn’t shake the feeling.

  He slipped out the front door and ground to a halt. Evie stood on the porch, her eyes wide as saucers as she stared at the body.

  “It’s David. H…He grew a goatee, but—” She covered her mouth and turned away.

  Matt came around and led her back down the steps. “I thought you were going to wait.”

  Her wild gaze landed on his face. “You took so long I thought something happened. I was coming to help.”

  Matt closed his eyes. Saints preserve him from women who thought he couldn’t take care of himself.

  He hadn’t been gone long at all. But she’d probably stood there alone, the night sounds and the eeriness of the situation working on her mind, until she convinced herself she had to investigate. Had to save him, God help him.

  He could tell by watching her face when the shock started to wear off and a different reality slammed into her. Matt gripped her arms hard, held her to him when she tried to wrench away.

  “Mama,” she cried.

  “She’s okay, Evie.”

  She twisted like a tiger. “Let me go. I have to see her!”

  “It’s a crime scene, chère. You can’t go in, but I promise you she’s okay. I promise you, Evie.”

  A sob wracked her body, the first he’d heard out of her tonight, and it damn near tore him up. She’d been through a lot, but it was fear for her mama that finally wrenched the tears from her.

  She gripped his biceps in her hands, her forehead dropping to his chest as she lost the control she’d been holding on to so tightly.

  She screamed and cried and he soothed her in Cajun French, like his mama used to do when he’d had a nightmare. When he realized what he was doing, he switched to English. Evie’s mama was a Breaux, but Evie didn’t speak French. He knew that because he used to make her mad when they were kids by talking to her in a language she couldn’t understand.

  “If she’s not okay, you can shoot me, yeah ma petite?” The cadence of the bayou was still thick on his tongue, and he couldn’t control it just yet. He never could when he let emotion get the best of him. Which was damn rare. “I swear to you on my mama’s grave she gonna be fine, yeah.”
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  The sound of sirens split the night and Matt gave a silent thank-you. The quicker the police and EMTs got here, the quicker Evie would know he spoke the truth. He wrapped his arms around her and held on tight as her sobs lessened along with her grip.

  The first patrol car rocketed into the driveway, followed by two others. The ambulance shot between them and skidded to a halt behind the Beemer.

  Doors popped open in almost perfect unison. Uniforms poured from the vehicles and spread around the scene. Matt pulled Evie away from the steps and waited for the officer in charge to start pelting him with questions.

  It was gonna be one long-ass night.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EVIE HUDDLED ON A CHAIR in a small metal room at the police station. How long had it been since she’d been escorted to this room? Two hours? Three?

  She couldn’t remember. She’d tried dozing, but she was too wired to sleep—in spite of being so damn tired she could barely keep her head up. And she was cold.

  She hadn’t seen Matt since the police arrived at her mother’s house. He’d left her sitting in the back seat of a patrol car while he went to talk to someone. She didn’t know if he was here too, if he was in another room, or if he’d gone home and disappeared beneath a mountain of soft covers. If she were him, she’d probably opt for the covers.

  Especially after the way she’d bawled all over him. God.

  She closed her eyes, seeing again the body on her mother’s porch. The blood that looked more like motor oil because it was in shadow. She’d never seen a dead person before. Obviously, Matt had. How did he deal with it, with the knowledge of what death looked like?

  It made her shiver, and she had to fight the urge to retch.

  David was dead. She still couldn’t believe it, especially since she’d been talking to him on the phone only a few minutes before. She replayed their conversation, but got nothing new out of it. He’d said his life—and by extension hers and her family’s—was in danger. But from whom? And why?

  And Mama. Oh God, Mama. Evie swallowed against a fresh wave of tears. Mama had a broken wrist from where she’d fallen on her arm. Evie had learned from one of the officers on the scene that, aside from the break, her mother would be okay. Though Mama had been knocked out, her respiration and heart rate were normal and that was a good sign.

  Evie wanted to go to the hospital with Mama, but the police chief arrived and denied the request. So here she was, waiting for something that didn’t seem to be all that pressing since no one had arrived to talk to her yet. She had no idea what was happening with Mama now. Matt promised to find out for her, but surely he’d gone home by now. As soon as she got out of here, no matter what time it was, she was going to the hospital.

  And then there was Sarah. A thread of panic wound through Evie’s belly and squeezed her throat tight. Where was her little sister? Matt didn’t seem to think she’d been there when David had been killed, but how could he be sure?

  Evie’s head was so heavy. She hadn’t been sleeping all that well lately, and she’d been up since around three a.m., when she’d finally given up on sleep and gotten out of bed. Add in a full day at the salon, the evening at the lake, and everything since, and she was feeling pretty worn out.

  She laid her head on the table, clasped her hands in her lap, and closed her eyes. If she could turn back the clock on this day, what would she have done differently? If she’d been in the house, she’d probably be in the hospital with Mama right now.

  Unless whoever had killed David decided to kill her too. Evie shivered.

  “Can you ID the victim, Miss Baker?”

  Evie snapped upright. Two men stood inside the room. She hadn’t even heard the door open.

  She blinked. She didn’t know these guys at all. The Rochambeau PD had grown a bit since she’d last lived here, and they’d apparently hired officers who weren’t native to the town. It was disconcerting. Or maybe it was just one more thing to add to an already disturbing evening.

  The one in a yellow polo shirt perched on the edge of the desk and bent toward her. The gold badge clipped to his belt disappeared into his spare tire when he leaned over. “You okay?”

  Evie threaded a hand through her hair and nodded. “It’s been a long day.”

  The man gave a snort of laughter. “Yes indeed, I’d say so, young lady. I’m Detective Odell. This here is Detective Proctor. We’d like to ask you a few questions.” He twisted to the side and flipped open a folder he must have laid on the table. “Can you tell me the victim’s name, Miss Baker?”

  “David. David West.”

  “And how did you know the deceased?”

  “He was my ex-partner.”

  “And your lover?”

  Evie cleared her throat. “Yes, occasionally.”

  “For how long?”

  “He was my partner for six months, but I knew him for nearly a year. We were a couple, if you could call it that, for only two months.”

  “Why did he come here tonight?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him since he stole my restaurant payroll about five months ago. He called and asked to meet, but when we got there… Well, he was…” She closed her eyes and swallowed. “Dead.”

  Detective Odell crossed his arms. “Seems as if you’ve had one very busy night. First Jimmy Thibodeaux and now this little incident.”

  A cold finger of dread slid over her at his use of the word incident. He made it sound like she’d tripped and skinned her knee. “I’m sorry, but can you tell me what this is about? I’ve told you all I know. And I’m sure Matt Girard said pretty much the same thing. We’ve been together since we left the lake earlier.”

  “West stole your money, right?”

  Evie looked at Detective Proctor. It was the first time he’d spoken. “Yes. I just said so.”

  “Ran your business into the ground?”

  She should be surprised they’d found that out so fast. Instead, she was just weary and ready to be done with it. “Yes, I lost my restaurant because David stole my money and I couldn’t pay the bills.”

  “Did that make you angry?”

  “Of course.” The instant she said it, she wished she could call it back. It was the truth, but the way they now looked at her…

  “Angry enough to kill him?”

  Evie sat up straight. “And what would be the point in that, Detective? It’s not like I’d get my restaurant back, now is it?”

  Odell smiled again. “Sorry, Evangeline—can I call you Evangeline?”

  “Evie.”

  “Evie, then. We’re trying to figure out what happened out there at your mama’s house. Detective Proctor’s just doing his job.”

  “I didn’t kill him. I didn’t even know he was in town until he called me. You can check my phone records, and you can verify where I was when you talk to Matt Girard.”

  “Girard’s a trained soldier, Evie.” Detective Proctor didn’t look up from the file he suddenly seemed so intent on. “He disarmed a gunman bare-handed. He’s capable of violence. Maybe if he thought you were in danger again…”

  Anger and frustration boiled inside her at the implication. “Today’s the first time in ten years I’ve seen Matt. And Jimmy was holding me at knifepoint. If Matt hadn’t acted, who knows what Jimmy might have done.” Evie shook her head. “Matt had no reason to do anything to David. He was dead when we got there.”

  Proctor’s mouth opened, but the door swinging behind them made both detectives turn around. A man in a plaid shirt cocked his head. The detectives huddled with him for a minute, Odell straightening first.

  “Well, Evie, guess we’re done here for now. Why don’t you go get some sleep, huh?”

  Evie scraped herself to her feet. “That’s it?”

  Odell smiled. “For now. You weren’t planning to leave town or anything, right?”

  As if she had anywhere to go. “No.”

  “Good.” Odell’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “We just need a bit of tim
e to sort this out, is all.”

  So friendly, as if they hadn’t insinuated she might have killed David. Or that Matt might have.

  “What about my sister?” She’d reported Sarah missing when she’d given her statement earlier. The officer taking the statement hadn’t seemed especially concerned.

  Odell consulted his folder. “Sarah Jean Savoie, right? We’re keeping an eye out for her, but she’s probably just gone to a friend’s house.” He smiled again. “I’m sure you’ll hear from her soon.”

  Her throat was tight. “What if someone took her? Whoever hit my mama and killed David is still out there.”

  She fought to keep the frustration from her tone, the utter helplessness. Her fists clenched at her sides as she squeezed back another round of tears.

  Odell put a hand on her shoulder. “We’re working on it. Don’t worry.”

  Evie couldn’t help but worry. Still, she trudged out the door and followed the uniformed officer who led her silently down the hall and out into a small waiting area. Matt looked up as she emerged. He was leaning against one wall, knee bent, foot and hands flat against the plaster, his expression hard enough to pulverize diamonds.

  Evie swallowed, both grateful to see him and apprehensive at the same time. She’d certainly gotten him into a mess tonight, hadn’t she? First Jimmy and now David. He had to be regretting the impulse to help her by now, regardless of their past or how obligated he felt. Whatever he’d done when they were teenagers didn’t warrant this kind of hassle, she was sure.

  “You waited.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you find out anything about my mama?”

  He nodded. “They’ve operated to repair the damage. She’s in recovery now, but they’ll move her to a room soon.”

  “I need to go see her.”

  “I figured as much.”

  They walked out of the police station together. Matt opened the passenger door for her. His expression was carefully blank, as if he was fighting some emotion and trying not to show it. When he settled into the driver’s seat, he turned to her.

 

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