A Marked Man

by Stella Cameron

  “What would you like, Dr. Savage?” the girl, Sidney, who worked for Jilly said.

  He didn’t want anything. “I’ll have a shot of espresso, please. That’s all for now.”

  “Lee?” Sidney said. “Anythin’ else?”

  “I’ll take a refill,” Lee said, pushing her coffee mug across the table. Sidney filled it and left.

  “Anythin’ you want to argue about?” Lee said. “Make sure you talk plenty loud. There’s lots of people in this town who want to know who attacked that woman I wrote about.”

  “No one attacked her,” he told her through his teeth. “She was a willing participant. A very enthusiastic participant. From what I’ve heard, the lady really got into it. She wouldn’t even quit when it was time to go.”

  “I was trying to get my tape back. I want it now.”

  “I just bet you do.”

  “Give it to me and I won’t write anythin’ else in the paper.”

  Roche smiled at Sidney while she set his coffee down.

  “Is it with you?” Lee asked, with hope in her eyes.

  “Lady, it’s never going to be used unless you try to drag my name or the names of any members of my family through the mud. If you do, I’ll have to set things straight and tell the truth. You’ll look like a hooker.”

  “And you’d look like a bastard.”

  “I’m not going to let you take me down over this when it was your idea in the first place,” he said.

  She crossed her arms. “My idea? How would I know about mirrored rooms and mud? You couldn’t make that excuse hold up.”

  Roche drank some of his strong coffee and enjoyed the way it felt going into his veins. “A nice girl doesn’t invite herself to an empty building, at night, to meet a man.”

  She pinched her mouth shut and narrowed her eyes. Then she said, “I asked if I could come to talk about the new clinic. Kelly was supposed to be there. I didn’t expect to see you, or have you set on me.”

  Roche tilted onto the back legs of his chair. “Funny, we don’t seem to remember everything exactly the same way.” He let the chair bang back onto all legs. “Sure you expected Kelly, but you decided you were going to get some sort of scoop. You were ready to do anything to get it and it didn’t matter which of us gave it to you. You started asking questions about Max’s business as soon as you were through the door. You weren’t subtle. Max had no part in whatever has happened to Michele Riley. And he did nothing to those women years ago. Someone wants to frame him.”

  “I was only asking questions anyone would ask,” Lee said. “Why would someone try to frame him when he was a high school senior? Doesn’t make any sense. Everyone knows Max has been accused of murder. He will be again when they figure out what he did with Michele Riley.”

  “Shut…up,” Roche said, looming closer to her. “My brother was not accused of murder, not officially. He was questioned. They couldn’t arrest him because they didn’t get any evidence. I’ve told you he’s innocent.”

  “But they never found anyone else, did they? No other killer?”

  “Other killer?” Roche said. “You’re doing it again, accusing Max. He never did anything to anyone.”

  “You’re his twin,” she said. “I wouldn’t expect you to say anything else. But I don’t care about him right now. No one does what you did to me without payin’ for it.”

  “What did I do that offended you?” Roche asked. “It sure wasn’t the sex. You loved it. You’re an alley cat.”

  She lifted her hand to strike him, but put it on the table. “You made a fool of me.”

  “Ah, and now we get to the truth. It was going to be fine for you to make an ass of me by suckering me in, but it doesn’t work the other way around.”

  “Get me that tape.”

  “Which one,” he said. He checked his fingernails.

  Lee was quiet until he looked at her. “What do you mean?” she said.

  “Nothing. Do you like pictures with your sound? I do.”

  “Pictures? Damn you.” Tears looked out of place in her eyes. “I don’t believe it. You’re just trying to scare me.”

  “I have scared you and I’m not pretending about anything. I had fun in bed last night watching my big plasma screen. There’s nothing like a sexy film to spice things up. I think this one might be saleable.”

  “Oh, sure, and you’d love your face viewed by all those sleazebags.”

  “You can’t see my face. What do you think I am? And you can’t tell where the action takes place either, everything’s too close. Real close. You can about see the pores in your skin.”

  “Okay.” Trembling, she pushed her computer away and wrapped her hands around her mug. “You want something. What is it?”

  “Very little,” Roche said. “Respect would be a good start. And no more vitriolic pieces in your pathetic rag. Then you’re to keep your mouth shut about the whole thing and help squelch any negative gossip about Max. The gossip’s not true. That should make you feel good about doing the right thing.”

  “I hate you,” she said under her breath. “I was just doing my job.”

  “And I was just doing mine. A very nice job it was, too. I forgot to tell you the other condition.”

  She glared at him.

  “Listen,” he said softly. “I enjoyed you and I’m prepared to forget you were stupid enough to think you could get back at me. We’re going to meet again.”

  “No, we’re not.”

  Roche smiled and heard her swallow. He turned her on and he intended to use her appetite. “Have you ever had sex on a stair stepper?”

  “No,” she whispered. “And it wouldn’t work. Stop this.”

  “I know how to make it work just fine—if it doesn’t kill you. There’s always a danger of bruising your diaphragm.”

  She took a moment to decide what he meant then turned the corners of her mouth down. “That big, huh. Funny, I don’t remember that.”

  “You will next time. I’ll show you all the ways you can use that exercise equipment—all the ways the gym staff won’t tell you about.”

  “You’re sick,” she said.

  “No, just horny sometimes,” he told her. “But we’ll get to talk all about that. Just be ready for my call.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Aw, Lee.” He caught her chin and pulled her toward him. “You’re something, you know that?” He stuck his tongue quickly into her mouth and withdrew.

  “So easy,” he said, risking a brush of the back of his hand over her breasts. Despite the disgust he felt for Lee, he was getting excited.

  Roche stood up. “Be where I can find you. And keep your mouth shut about the other.”

  She stared at him, her cheeks pink and a sheen of sweat on her upper lip and brow.

  “See you later,” he told her. “Take a nice bath. Make sure you’re all soft for me—everywhere.”

  Lee curled in a ball beneath the sheets on an airbed in a small room off the print shop. Early in the morning she’d call in her part-time staff of two. This would be another important run of the paper—a special edition. There was rarely more than one issue a week.

  If Roche Savage thought he could scare her into submission she’d have to teach him a lesson. One thing she’d learned as a reporter was never to give in to intimidation.

  She turned on her side. The room had no windows and even with the door left open, the air was stifling and laced with odors from the old press they still used.

  Roche was hot. Who would have guessed from the quiet act he put on? Too bad he was also a snake. A breeze would feel wonderful, and the scent of magnolias, a glimpse of purple bougainvillea brilliance while she sipped a julep under some trees.

  Now she was hallucinating. She smiled and closed her eyes.

  “Don’t turn around.” A voice, muffled but definitely male came from immediately behind her.

  Lee began to roll toward him.

  “Don’t.” A slap to her rump was no love pat. Her skin stung. />
  “What’s wrong?” she said, forcing her voice to be steady. “What’s happened?”

  A hand came down on her arm and she heard a ripping sound. So fast she had no time to react, the intruder rolled her toward him, unwinding a roll of what had to be duct tape around her at the same time. He left the sheet between her body and the tape and worked rapidly, not stopping until there were at least three bands holding her fast like a swaddled mummy.

  Her heart beat harder and harder. “Why are you doing this?”

  He backed away, reached for the wall just inside the printshop and threw a switch that flooded light on behind him.

  Mostly in silhouette, but not entirely, she saw his shape. She saw he was large, well built, but a surgical hood and mask disguised his face.

  Lee bucked, she rocked from side to side and tossed her head. “Let me go,” she cried. Her lungs expanded, puffing out her chest, pressing down onto her stomach until she felt acid rise.

  Her scream rang in her ears.

  He didn’t say anything.

  Wearing a surgical gown, his raised hands swathed in surgical gloves, he looked down on her from what felt like a distorted height. She couldn’t see his eyes. Goggles hid them.

  Deliberately, he snapped the wrist of each glove. Sounds like small caliber gunshots, one, two.

  Sweat sprang out on her body, and her face. Her eyes hurt.

  He turned his back and she saw him fumble with the gown, pull it to one side. When he faced her again, he held a hypodermic needle.

  Lee blinked, pressed her eyelids together and focused again. His thumb was on the plunger.

  “Don’t! What is that?”

  “Something to make you feel quieter. You’ll like it.”

  “I don’t do drugs. Please. Please let me go. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

  He laughed.

  Lee rolled her head to the side and bile oozed into her throat. She heaved and spat, tried to clear her mouth.

  “Calm down,” he said, holding the needle at the level of his face.

  “Max?” she said, weeping, choking on the tears that ran down the back of her nose. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything against you. I was just looking for a story. That’s what I do. It’s my job. Please don’t kill me.”

  He sank to his knees and leaned over her. Through the goggles she could see the glint of his eyes.

  Once again she screamed, then kept on screaming.

  She stopped.

  Still he knelt there, needle in hand, swathed in his anonymous healer’s uniform.

  “Look,” she said. “I can help you. I can start a campaign that’ll stop people from saying bad things about you.”

  “Look over there,” he said, indicating the wall farthest from the door.

  “No.”

  “You’re being very silly. Once this is over with, you’ll wonder why you made such a fuss. Look over there.”

  She started to scream but he shouted, “Be quiet, or I’ll hurt you. Now do as you’re told.”

  “I can’t.”

  “If you move, this could kill you,” he said. “Be very still.”

  His head came closer. She reared up, attempted to butt him.

  For a moment he paused, then he slid the goggles on top of his head and she gasped.

  The needle slid into her neck with a sensation like a giant mosquito bite, and she didn’t move because she didn’t dare.

  “It’ll be quick,” he said, getting up.

  Lee tried to speak. Her vision clouded.

  “Be brave,” he told her. “Make me proud.”

  When the pain exploded, she arched from the bed.

  She couldn’t see.

  The mosquito was eating her eyes.

  CHAPTER 31

  Carmen picked up the two men by their collars, Tom Walen in one hand and Bobby Colbert in the other. He hauled them to the front of Pappy’s, kicked open the door and went outside with them.

  Annie left her office in time to see the threesome disappear.

  “I saw that coming. Not many men could move Tom Walen that way. Did you see him kick?”

  “No and I’m glad.” She glanced over her shoulder at Guy. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  “Just stopped by,” Guy said, but he gave his lopsided grin and slouched on one leg and they both knew Annie had figured out why he was spending so much time at Pappy’s.

  Annie put her hands on her hips and grimaced. No point in making a fuss. Max wanted an eye kept on her when he wasn’t around to do the job himself. She should be flattered. She was. And embarrassed.

  “Do you know what happened?” she asked. “It’s not good for business to have people fightin’ in here.”

  Guy nodded. “We’re gonna have to make sure they behave—if they come back.”

  Annie had thought Bobby would get lost after their earlier skirmish.

  “Walen’s spoiling for a row with anyone he can rile,” Guy said. “Bobby was it, tonight. Tom asked him what he knew about Max Savage’s woman and Bobby hit him in the mouth.”

  “Wonderful.” Denying her attachment to Max would be too little, too late.

  “Bobby sees himself as your champion and he surely didn’t like hearin’ Walen call you Max’s woman.”

  Annie pushed her fingers into her hair. “Why can’t this be all over?”

  “Because we haven’t found Michele Riley. By the way, latest theory seems to be she took off because she didn’t want to marry Moose Walen.”

  “I hope that’s true,” Annie said. “Maybe she’ll show up like some of the women do in those cases.”

  Guy snorted. “If she does, she’s gonna have to mow a lot of lawns to make up for what she’s cost us. I talked to Nat Archer—you know him? He was my partner when I worked for NOPD.”

  “I heard that.” One thing she couldn’t imagine was Guy Gautreaux being afraid to go anywhere or do anything and she understood those were must qualities for NOPD. “Wazoo says a lot of nice things about Nat.”

  Guy grunted. “I see him when he comes down to take Wazoo out. He reckons the greased up door handle at the Majestic puts the lie to Michele decidin’ to take off. I agree, although it’s a nice thought. He thinks she wouldn’t either know how, or bother with keepin’ her prints off that door the way it was done. Also she’d at least take her car and abandon it when she was far enough away to make a start.”

  “Maybe abandon it so it would look like she’d been abducted in her car?” Annie suggested.

  “Could be. But she didn’t do any of those things. Spike’s on board with the same conclusions. I’d better go see what’s going on outside.”

  He didn’t have to. Max came through the door with Carmen. Max’s expression wasn’t pretty but Carmen looked like a man who’d just finished the best plate of ribs he ever ate.

  “Hey,” Max said when he saw Annie. His glance never failed to nail her. It was as if he wanted to see inside her head. “You okay? Hi, Guy.”

  “Carmen had things under control,” Guy said lightly. “Time for me to get home, I think.”

  “What happened here?” Max said. “You can’t get two sensible words out of Carmen. He has informed the sheriff’s office though. I’m going to ask—no, on second thoughts, would you mind asking to have those two followed up. See if they’ve got records and find out what their situations are now.”

  Guy gave a two-fingered salute. “Got it. I was on my way to set that in motion, anyway.”

  The moment Guy left, Annie said, “Is Guy working for you?”

  Max looked her in the eye and said, “He’s a great guy. Smart. Lots of contacts. And he wants to help me. Guy believes in me, imagine that.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone not believing in you.”

  For an instant she thought he would pull her into his arms, instead he placed a forefinger on her lips and said, “Thanks.”

  “I can’t get that newspaper piece of Lee’s out of my head,” Annie said. “Not one soul has given me a sidew
ays look, but I keep thinking people are starin’ at me.”

  Max looked wicked. “Fess up,” he said softly. “You really want to know what that was all about. It definitely doesn’t say the woman was raped. For all you know she’s feeling guilty for having a good time.”

  “Max!” Annie scanned the lobby quickly. “That’s evil.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Annie punched his arm. “I can leave now. Just let me get my purse.”

  She ran into her office. Making sure Max hadn’t followed her, she opened the purse and reached to the bottom for the brown cotton sack Wazoo had given her. It had been on her mind. Her fingernails dug into gritty dust and she grimaced.

  With her stomach flipping over, she withdrew the thing. It seemed to be deteriorating with every day yet she hadn’t done anything to damage it.

  Annie looked at it closely. Surely enough, bits of wire poked through the cloth—more now than when Wazoo had pressed her to hold it. Annie couldn’t bring herself to open the top. Cautiously, her nerves jumping, she gently felt the contents. Then she felt them again and her face seemed to grow tight.

  She knew what was in the bag. A sensible person would dump a doll of this kind. Annie held it over the wastepaper basket.

  The scent of incense and old wax instantly grew intense. She tried to drop the sack but couldn’t make her fingers open. This was silly, a hysterical reaction to what bits and pieces she’d been told about voodoo.

  “Annie?” Max said from the doorway and she shoved the doll back into her purse. In the morning she’d talk to Wazoo about this.

  “I want to go out to Cloud’s End,” she said, facing Max. “That’s where Dr. Reb and Marc live. It’s not far. Lee lives there, too. She’s Reb’s cousin.”

  “So?” Max said. The worry lines in his face suggested he had a good idea why Annie wanted to see Lee.

  “The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that she made a terrible mistake writing that piece in the Trumpet. If she did run into the type of man who took advantage of her, hurt her, even, she shouldn’t have antagonized him.”

  “So you want to go out there and tell Lee you know she’s the woman she wrote about?”