THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE LAW

by Wendy Rosnau

  The Blu Devil was a dead man. Only before his blood was drained from his body, Salva intended to strip the skin off his back an inch at a time. And while he filleted Kristen's lover, he would make her watch.

  * * *

  Chapter 15

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  When Blu arrived at the fish market at nine the next morning, the store was filled with customers, and Bessy Turner was doing her best to see to their needs.

  Giving the older woman a nod, he scaled the stairs to the apartment he'd grown up in. His mother came into the kitchen when she heard him enter. He noted her face was pale, but she offered him a weak smile.

  "Amanda's asleep in the bedroom, and so is Kris."

  "Kris?"

  "I can't keep calling her Child. She has one of her own."

  Blu nodded, then looked down at the black backpack that sat by the door. "I see she's packed. Did Brodie explain what's going on?"

  "Only as much as you told him to tell me. Do I hear the rest from you now or later?"

  Blu touched his mother's cheek. "Later, Ma."

  Rose's chin quivered, but she kept it up. "All right, then. I've always had to settle when it came to you. I didn't think this time would be any different. Kris packed last night for Amanda. I don't understand why they can't stay together, but I suppose you have your reasons."

  "Margo's place is the perfect safe house for Angel, Ma. And Mandy…" He cleared his throat. "For now she needs to be at the shelter. Trust me, Ma. I know what I'm doing."

  "Oh, I've never doubted that, son. I told Kris yesterday that if she was desperate, the man she needed was you. I still believe that."

  "You showed her your scrapbook." Blu wasn't angry. He'd made his bed, as they say.

  "She deserved to know."

  "Yes, she did," Blu agreed.

  Rose reached up and kissed his cheek, then she stepped back and gave her son a long head-to-toe. "You certainly grew taller than either Carl or I ever thought you would." She patted his chest, her hand lingering. "I don't know why all this is necessary, but I trust you'll get around to tell me as soon as you get a spare minute. Until then, I'll just go along with whatever it is you want done."

  "Thanks, Ma. I can always count on you. And I appreciate your faith."

  Blu tried to keep the worry from his eyes. His mother was perceptive and he didn't want to upset her. He wished Margo was there in case things turned sour. His mother would need her if… He gripped her arms and leveled his gaze on her. "I need you strong, Ma. Don't sell me short. I'm the Blu Devil, remember?"

  The sound of the bedroom door opening caught Blu's attention, and he watched as Angel walked into the kitchen carrying Mandy. Her hair was tousled, and she had that heavy-lidded look that told him she'd just woke up.

  "Amanda heard your voice." She shifted her daughter to her hip.

  Blu studied the two blond beauties who had entered his life so unexpectedly. If only things had turned out different, he thought. But fate had a way of shifting the tide, and knowing there wasn't much time left, he put to memory everything about his two girls—their pretty brown eyes and small sweet mouths. Their fragile innocence.

  "Da, come home."

  Suddenly Mandy wiggled out of her mother's arms. Blu watched her come to him. He felt his throat close up as he bent and scooped her up. She was warm and soft and she smelled like lemon verbena, just like her mama. He felt the lump in his throat grow bigger, and he turned away from Angel and his mother to give himself a minute to pull it together.

  A moment later he turned back to return Mandy to her mother, but she had other plans and clung to him. She tried to bite his chin, then giggled.

  "Mandy," Angel scolded, "you don't want to hurt Blu."

  It didn't take much to crush Mandy's feelings. Her mother's words had her pulling her hands back close to her chest and hanging her head.

  "She can't hurt me," Blu insisted. When Mandy didn't lift her head, he pulled her close and started nibbling on her ear until he had her giggling hysterically.

  "Blu, how is she going to learn proper behavior if you let her do anything she wants?"

  He directed his attention to Angel. "There's time enough for her to learn proper behavior. Right now all she needs is to feel safe and happy."

  The words reminded Blu that if Mandy was ever going to have a chance for a normal childhood, he had places to go and people to see. He hugged her close, then handed her back.

  Angel took her, but just as quickly handed her to his mother. "I need to talk to Blu. Rose, could you keep Amanda occupied for a little bit?"

  "Of course."

  She turned back to the bedroom and Blu had no choice but to follow. As he stepped inside, she closed the door behind him. Glancing at his watch he said, "Brodie will be by in about two hours to take you to my sister's house. Mort will—"

  "Why did you leave last night?"

  Blu kept his distance. He wasn't going to touch her, he'd already decided that. He needed his head clear and his thoughts only on Salvador Maland. "I needed air. You know me. I walk easy."

  His words hurt her, but it was for the best. She couldn't keep walking around thinking he was something that he wasn't. "Mort will be with Brodie. He's taking Mandy to the shelter. You won't be leaving together, and you'll wear disguises."

  "I don't see why we have to split up."

  Blu had no intention of explaining. No matter how much he wished there was a better way to snare Maland, a safer way, this was a solid plan. "I want you to stay at Margo's until I come for you."

  "And when will that be?"

  "Sometime tomorrow."

  "Just like that, I'm suppose to do whatever it is you tell me? I left Belize because I was told what to do every minute of the day. What makes you think I'm going to do what you tell me just because it's you telling me instead of Salva?"

  "That's not why you left Belize, and we both know it," Blu countered. "The reason you'll do what I tell you is because you know who I really am, and what I'm capable of. And if you would be honest right now with me and yourself, deep inside you're praying I'm even worse than the rumors claim." When she attempted to speak, he held up his hand. "No. Don't tell me I'm good. The guy you need watching your backside right now, baby, had better be one mean son of a bitch. Because that's the only way you're going to get out of this in one piece. Mandy, too."

  "This isn't fair. You're not being fair!" She was crying now, coming undone.

  Blu watched her wrap her arms around herself. He had to touch her. Had to ease her fear. He stepped forward, pulled her into his arms. "He won't touch you. I promised you that days ago, and it's still my promise. He won't even see you." She kept crying. He shook her a little. "He's just a man made up of blood and guts like me. He's beatable. The Blu Devil can beat him."

  She broke away from him and backed up, shaking her head.

  "You can help," Blu heard himself say. "Give me some facts about him. It doesn't have to be much. The yacht. What will he be sailing?"

  She was against the wall, clinging to it as if she needed it for support. "He'll be sailing the Princess. You won't be able to miss her. She's a beautiful boat, and…"

  Her voice broke. Once again Blu was there, pulling her away from the wall and into his arms. "And what?"

  "Salva had a man sculpt a figurehead for his yacht. It's me. I'm naked, my hands are tied behind my back. He made me … made me pose for it. The figurehead rides the Princess."

  Blu tried to keep his rage below the surface. She must have sensed his struggle. She backed away. "I'm sorry. When I came here all I wanted was to find some way to go back to being whoever I was before … before I woke up and found myself in a nightmare." She paused. "I wanted to go backward, but I know now that's impossible. All I want right now is for you and me to— I couldn't bear it if you got hurt because of me. Please, go to the police. Let's tell them my story, and—"

  Blu shook his head. "It's too late for any of that."

  "It can't be too late. I love you.
I know I shouldn't be saying that now. That you don't want to hear it. And I know I have no right the way things are, but—"

  "Don't finish." As much as he wanted to hear her confession of love, Blu couldn't let her go on. He pulled her against him and covered her trembling lips with his own. He knew he needed to distance himself from her, but the need to taste her one last time was stronger.

  He kissed her tenderly, then possessively. She leaned into him, gave herself over to him completely—her need as clear as his own.

  Blu wanted to possess her, to make everything all right for her and Mandy. And he wanted her to keep on loving him forever. He'd never wanted anything so badly as he wanted a chance for a life with this beautiful young woman. But that wasn't going to happen. As much as he wanted to hold on to her, he wanted her to be free more. He wanted her standing on her own two feet, starting over, and being whoever it was she needed to be.

  Blu brushed her long hair off her shoulder and murmured huskily, "I have to go." Then he kissed her one last time.

  * * *

  The moment the door closed, Kristen's knees buckled and she sank to the narrow bed. A vision of Salva flashed in her mind and she began to shake. And that's when she knew that what Blu had said was true—she wanted the Blu Devil to save her and Amanda. She wanted him to rip Salva apart and save them from a fate worse than death.

  "Kris?"

  The door opened and Kristen dabbed at her eyes and tried to dry her cheeks. "Yes."

  Rose came forward, Amanda toddling beside her. "Brodie called. He said he and Mort are on their way."

  Amanda wiggled and squirmed until she'd climbed into her mother's lap. Kristen's arms went around her daughter. "You've been very kind, Rose. Thank you for letting us stay in your home."

  "Will you be all right while I go down and check on Bessy?"

  "Yes."

  "All right, then. You wash your face, and freshen yourself up. I'll take Amanda with me. Come on, sweetheart, come with Grandma Rose."

  When Kristen emerged from the bedroom an hour later, she found Brodie and Mort sitting at the table with her daughter. They were sharing cookies and milk; Amanda was the server, dunking the peanut butter cookie in the milk, then feeding the snack first to Brodie, then to Mort—they were all sharing the same cookie. Her daughter was laughing as Brodie was trying to eat her fingers along with the cookie.

  Kristen stood in the doorway and watched. The men were so taken with her little girl that she again felt like crying. Amanda's life had had so little laughter in it, and she'd been forced to accept so many rigid rules. Here, it was all about feeling safe and being happy, just like Blu had said.

  Brodie saw her first, and stood quickly. "You want to join us?"

  Kristen nodded, then took the chair between her daughter and Mort. Amanda immediately dunked a cookie in the glass of milk and stuck it in front of her mother to take a bite. Kristen did, and so the game continued.

  "Rose is still downstairs," Mort told her around his next bite. "She told us to come up with Mandy."

  Kristen glanced at Mort's handsome face, then Brodie's. Last night she hadn't gotten a good look at him. He'd sailed her back to River Bay and escorted her here, but frankly, she'd been too upset with Blu for leaving her to notice anything or anyone. Only now there was time to assess Blu's friends. She'd read in one of the newspaper articles that Mort had been one of the kidnapped kids that Blu had rescued. He hadn't had a home to go back to so the Blu Devil had given him his. She'd also read that Brodie Hewitt had risked his life to protect Margo and Blu during that terrible time. The paper claimed he was lucky to be alive.

  Taking in the older man, she noted that Brodie wasn't as tall as Blu, but he was just as tough appearance-wise. Older than Blu, his hair was already starting to turn gray. His green eyes were striking and intelligent, and Kristen liked his rogue's smile. But she wasn't so sure about the unusual tattoo on his arm that depicted a stylized raven.

  "We're leaving first," he suddenly told Kristen, glancing her way and seeing that she'd been staring. "Mort will take Mandy to the shelter once we're gone."

  Kristen didn't say anything.

  Brodie reached for a bag that sat on the floor and put it on the table. "Once you change, we can leave anytime."

  Kristen took the bag and peered inside. Along with a red skirt and white blouse was a short black wig and a brimmed straw hat. When she looked back at Brodie, he shrugged. "You're suppose to look like a customer leaving the store with tonight's supper. Blu's idea. Me, I'll leave first and pick you up a couple blocks up the street."

  Again Kristen said nothing, but then she noticed a similar bag sitting on the floor next to Mort. "And does Amanda turn into a boy."

  Mort grinned. "Sure, why not? Blu's—"

  "Idea."

  Kristen felt a sudden surge of hope. Maybe all this was going to work. Maybe trusting the Blu Devil had been the answer from the very beginning, and that's why she'd been drawn to his picture back on the island.

  * * *

  The Princess sailed around Algiers Point at five that afternoon. As Angel had said, Maland's yacht would be hard to miss. From where he stood on the deck of the Demon's Eye, Blu sent the binoculars over the bald-headed crew. He kept scanning, in hopes of catching a glimpse of Maland, but after a second, then a third round of detailed scoping, he concluded that the bastard was below deck.

  "Wow!" Mort made a low whistle from somewhere behind Blu. "That's some fancy boat."

  "Oui, some fancy boat," Blu agreed, moving his binoculars to the bow where a beautiful naked siren figurehead bucked the wind. It was true, the likeness was incredible. Maland's craftsmen had captured Angel's innocence as well as taken the time to detail three feet of wild, flowing hair.

  He'd always known that Angel's abuse had been both physical and mental—that she'd endured a crazy kind of madness few women would have been able to survive. Seeing her image riding Maland's yacht told Blu just how crazy that madness had been.

  His stomach knotted in reaction and yet he kept his anger contained. At the appropriate time he would vent his outrage and let it go, but that would be later. It would be a private unleashing, and it would mark the end of Salvador Maland. But for now, while he waited for the next step in his plan to unfold, he would remind himself that Angel had survived Maland's treachery for three long years.

  Survived was the important word. Her strength had been quiet, but nonetheless powerful enough to see her and Mandy through the hardest of times. Once Maland was out of her life, she would be all right.

  Blu checked his watch. If his plan stayed on schedule, they should be seeing Curt Aldwin within the hour. He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and called Brodie at Margo's house. As soon as he heard his friend's voice, he said, "How's Angel doing?"

  "She's been pretty quiet. That's good, right?"

  "Maybe. Keep your eyes on her."

  "That won't be hard to do."

  "You're not her type," Blu heard himself say.

  "Yours, either."

  That was true enough, Blu thought. She deserved someone a whole lot better than he could ever be. "She needs a gentle hand," he heard himself say.

  "I can be gentle."

  "Dammit, Brodie, just keep your hands to home, your fantasy caged, and your eyes open. Got it?"

  Brodie chuckled. "I got it. Everything okay on your end?"

  "He's here."

  "Then he swallowed the bait?"

  "It looks that way. Call me if you need something." Before Brodie could irritate him further, Blu disconnected, then punched in another number. "You see what I see?"

  "With both eyes. Now we wait."

  "That's right," Blu agreed. "Now we wait."

  * * *

  Kristen gauged the distance to the tree from the upstairs window, took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and pitched herself out the two-story window of Ryland and Margo Archard's lovely home in the Garden District. As the sturdy limb came within reach, she wrapped her arms t
ightly around it and hung on, then swung herself up to straddle the limb.

  It was dark out, just barely. The cloudy sky made it seem later than it really was. Kristen took a minute to catch her breath. Her request had been nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn't as if she'd asked to say good-night to Amanda in person. She had simply asked Brodie if she could phone the shelter and speak to her daughter before she went to bed. But the surprised look on his face when she'd made the simple request had immediately made Kristen suspicious. Then her suspicion had turned to worry when he'd made a lame excuse about Blu telling him they shouldn't use the phone. At that moment Kristen knew she had to see for herself that Amanda was safe at the shelter.

  Sitting fifteen feet in the air, Kristen calculated the best way to the ground then picked her way carefully from limb to limb. Five minutes later she was sucked close to the house, considering her next move. She could walk out the front gate, but Ryland Archard was a cop. What if he had an alarm on his iron gate? So far Brodie didn't know she was gone, and she meant to keep it that way for as long as she could.

  The hole in the hedge took a long ten minutes to find, but it was a perfect fit. Looking back, Kristen could see Brodie standing in the yellow kitchen, see that he was talking on the phone. So much for not using the phone, she thought.

  His obvious lie brought a wave of fear racing through her. Fear that, as a mother, she had abandoned her child in a dangerous situation and now she would pay dearly for that error. The fear made her anxious, and Kristen began to run. Keeping an eye out for trouble, scanning the streets block by block for a cab, she headed into the heart of New Orleans.

  Near Canal Street, she hailed a cab. Grateful when it pulled to the side of the street, she climbed in and shut the door.

  The cab driver turned.

  Kristen sucked in her breath and started at the man's shiny bald head. She grabbed for the door, had it open when the cabbie said in thick New Orleans fashion, "How y'all doin' this evenin', miss? Where to?"

  Kristen hesitated, remembered a similar situation that had caused her to needlessly panic. She relaxed back in the seat, then reached up and fingered the black bangs on the wig that covered her head.