Max was already springing from his position. He got to his brothers just as Kelly strained to hook a finger through the grenade pin. With one foot, Max delivered a smashing kick to Kelly’s right wrist and said, “Yes!” when he cried out.
The grenade shot away, rolled a few yards down an incline that had looked like nothing from Max’s position on the ground. On his feet, he leaped past Kelly and Roche. Kelly grabbed Max’s ankle as he passed and landed him hard on the stony ground.
Max leveled his gun at Kelly’s head.
His sight lined up not on Kelly, but on Roche. Kelly had vaulted behind his younger brother and had him in a hammerlock. “Relax,” Kelly told him. “I’ll protect you.”
Roche managed to buck Kelly hard enough to knock him sideways. Still Kelly gripped his brother in the crook of a steely arm and clung to Max’s ankle.
A shot rang out.
“Shit, no,” Max said under his breath. Reinforcements, oblivious reinforcements, had arrived. The shot had been a warning. He and Roche needed help but that grenade was still too close for comfort.
Through the burning sweat in his eyes, he saw a group spreading out along the perimeter of the trees. A dog barked and Max figured they could thank the canine for finding them at all.
Behind Kelly and Roche, the top of Annie’s head was above the rim of the basin. She got her elbows onto the ground and hauled herself out of the hole. Max just wished she had stayed where she was safe, regardless of the conditions she’d been trapped in.
“Get down and stay still,” Kelly told Max. “Your buddies aren’t going to help you. They’re going to find out what you’ve been up to for years.”
“You’re insane,” Roche said.
“Don’t you tell me that,” Kelly cried. “You don’t have to pander to Max anymore. I’m the one you’ll care about.”
“Give it up,” Max said. “You know the evidence Roche has on you.”
“He’d never show that to anyone,” Kelly told him. He looked toward the phalanx of people moving slowly forward across the field. “Help,” he shouted. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold him.”
Kelly saw Annie. “Come here,” he snapped. “Come here or I’ll hurt your lover boy.”
Annie didn’t hesitate—she walked to Kelly.
All Max needed was one clear shot. At the moment, even if Roche was out of the way, Annie could just as well be in line to take a bullet.
“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, forget it,” Kelly said to Max. “One wrong move and I’ll break Roche’s neck. Neither of us want that.”
The dog barked and sounded more excited. From the number of people circling them, several agencies had to be involved.
Kelly’s left foot was visible to Max. Visible and an easy shot.
Max pulled the trigger without moving any part of his body but the necessary finger.
Kelly screamed. He screamed and when Roche threw him off, grabbed Annie convulsively instead. “Come any closer, you fucker, and she dies. My foot. You’ve ruined my foot.”
Max stood, held his weapon in both hands and trained it on Kelly and Annie. He would wait for his opportunity and he felt nothing about killing his half brother. He felt nothing for him but hate.
With gigantic effort, Kelly got up, hissing through his teeth at the pain he must feel. He held Annie in front of him and shuffled backward—toward the grenade. “You don’t think it’s real.” His eyes half-closed but instantly opened all the way again. “You think I’m bluffing.”
He struggled on until he reached his goal and, watching Max and Roche, fell to his knees with Annie still in front of him. He folded the grenade into his palm.
Holding it so close to Annie’s face it almost touched, he took hold of the pin.
Annie looked directly into Max’s face. He looked back and he felt as if they touched. His mind wound in one direction after another, looking for a way to save her.
He realized the reinforcements had stopped moving forward. They would have glasses trained on the unfolding drama, including the weapon Kelly used as the ultimate threat.
Kelly pulled the pin from the grenade.
Max ran at him.
Roche ran, too.
Annie clutched Kelly’s hand, the one gripping his precious weapon, with both of hers and pulled it against her.
Roche made an inhuman noise and stopped running, but Max couldn’t stay away. Whatever happened, he would be with her, he would give survival his all, just as she was doing.
“Get down,” Roche shouted. “We can’t do anything.”
A gurgling shriek sounded and Max turned his head from side to side, forcing his sweat-soaked vision into focus.
And he was almost upon them. Annie had driven a heel into Kelly’s mangled foot. With his mouth wide open, he choked out his agony and slid down, left the grenade in Annie’s hands.
“Throw it,” Max shouted to her. They had a few seconds. Maybe six, maybe two.
She cocked her arm and lobbed the grenade into the salt basin. “Get down,” she yelled.
The explosion ripped at his eardrums. The earth shuddered and his feet left the ground. A plume of fire and smoke swelled out of the hole, and Max landed, spread-eagled, on his back.
CHAPTER 43
Rosebank. Six weeks later.
Annie studied the exotic salon at Rosebank, and all the people in it—there for her and Max—and for a moment felt like the insecure girl she used to be. She drew herself up, reminded herself she was a competent, successful woman, and plastered on a smile. Then she caught the eye of her cousin Finn Duhon who had come from Pointe Judah to give her away, and she giggled.
Finn, tall, black-haired and every inch a still-impressive former Army Ranger, waggled his eyebrows at Annie and hugged his wife, Emma. The looks on their faces didn’t need translation; they were thrilled for Annie and Max.
“I put in another good word for you with Cyrus,” Roche said softly and rested an arm around her waist. “I told him our mother is Catholic and Max and I were brought up Catholic.”
Annie held a glass of champagne, which she placed firmly into Roche’s spare hand. “Take a drink,” she said. “It’ll settle you down.”
He frowned and tipped the glass. The men in the wedding party wore gray tuxes and on the Savage men they were spectacular. Roche looked almost as good as his twin, but, Annie thought, that was the most he could hope for.
Standing with his parents near the massive white stone fireplace, Max’s head was bowed as he listened to Leo and Claire Savage.
“You were brought up Catholic,” Roche said. “That’s different, of course.”
“Cyrus already knows Max’s history, and mine.”
“No harm in making sure, though,” Roche said.
“Mmm.”
“I didn’t think it would hurt to put his mind at rest.”
Annie had no idea what he meant.
Roche smiled and said, “I assured him that I’d be a godparent and make sure the children go to mass.”
Annie took back her glass. “Would you like some coffee?”
“No thanks. I’m feeling really good.”
“I noticed,” she said.
“But you’re not noticing that your husband keeps waving his arms at you. Looks like he’s trying to fly.”
Annie fiddled with the skirts of the white chiffon wedding gown Max had tricked her into buying. Actually, he’d said he’d lie on the floor of the shop and refuse to leave if she wouldn’t have it rather than something simple and short.
Bending, Roche looked closely at crystals and beads in points from the waist down the skirt of the dress. “Prettiest dress I’ve ever seen.” He stood up and smiled at her. “And you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. Your husband’s still trying to fly.”
Annie waved at Max, threaded an arm beneath one of Roche’s and walked gracefully to join the little group by the fireplace. With Kelly in prison awaiting trial, Annie wondered how much the Savages could celebr
ate anything.
“You think I’m drunk, don’t you?” Roche said.
She looked up at him and he smiled wide enough to show most of his perfect, white teeth.
“I’m not. I’m just so bloody happy I can’t stand it.” He stood still and put a hand over his heart. “If I could change what happened, I would. I hate it that Kelly’s ruined his life, but I hate what he did more. Even all of that can’t take anything away from thinking of you and my brother having each other.”
Impulsively, she turned toward him and rested her forehead on his lapel. He held the back of her head but after a moment said, “Look at Max now.”
She did and laughed aloud at the sight of him with his fists on his hips, glowering in their direction.
Roche held her back a few more moments. “We’ll get other chances to talk but I want you to know I’ll be here for you if you need to talk. Or if you don’t think you can be comfortable with me, I’ll make sure we find just the right person.”
“Thank you,” she said, sobering. They would both have their demons to conquer and she wouldn’t make any speedy decisions about how to deal with hers. Unless Max had talked about them, she had issues Roche didn’t know about. But Annie believed in the power of love and hers was strong. With Max, she felt she could overcome anything.
“Let’s join Max before he starts rolling up his sleeves and looking for seconds,” Roche said.
She walked lightly beside him. There had been a few bad dreams for some weeks now and those that came were different than before, and understandable. They passed when she awoke, or when she felt Max close to her.
Max couldn’t get enough of looking at Annie. He had wanted her to have the kind of wedding a girl dreams of, the kind she probably imagined before reality changed everything.
“Hi,” he said when she reached him, and kissed her cheek sedately. “My brother’s been hitting on you, hasn’t he? And at our wedding. Excuse me while I take him outside.”
Annie laughed.
“I’d insist on making you do what you just threatened,” Roche said, “but Annie would be mad at me if you were unconscious on your wedding night.”
Max met Roche’s eyes. They smiled widely at one another. This happy day was the best medicine for the Savage family.
Annie had taken off her veil and wore small white orchids in her hair. “You smell wonderful,” he said, to her only. “How long do we have to stay?”
Annie smiled at her parents-in-law while she slipped a hand beneath Max’s coat and pinched his back. She looked at him sharply when he said, “Ouch.”
“It’s convenient to be able to stay here at Rosebank,” Claire Savage said. “The house is huge. I would have loved to see it exactly as it was.”
“From what I’ve been told,” Annie said, “apart from some additions, the renovations were made without changin’ the look of what was already there.”
Claire looked interested. “I wonder how they feel about showing people around? Not tonight, of course.”
“They’re pleased to be asked,” Max told her. “The place belonged to Vivian Devol’s uncle and apparently he was quite flamboyant. Did you ever see so many brass animal feet on furniture, or monkeys carved in odd places?”
“None of this is accidental,” Claire said. “The collecting must have taken years but it’s beautifully done. Very 1930s colonial—India primarily, I should think. With the Asian influence, of course.”
“When I give her some spare time,” Leo Savage said, “Max’s mother is an interior designer.”
Claire smiled. It was from her that the twins got their dark hair and blue eyes.
“Wazoo is absolutely the best with the history of the house,” Annie said. “She has all sorts of theories—some of them way out there.”
The Savages looked puzzled.
“Wazoo lives here, too. We’ll make sure you meet her.”
“Good,” Claire said, looking at her impressive, silver-haired husband. Shadows showed in her eyes. “Are we ready to go up, Leo? Since the bride and groom don’t leave until tomorrow, they won’t mind if the old fogies give up for tonight.”
Leo smiled, but Annie felt his relief. This must be harder for him than the rest.
Claire hugged her and said, “Max is a lucky man, but he deserves you.” She laughed. “How’s that for a compliment?”
“I guess I’m glad to have it,” Annie said. She and Max walked his parents to the stairs before returning to the reception.
“Look what a good time they’re having,” Max said. “They won’t miss us if we go upstairs, too.”
“Don’t you tempt me, sir,” Annie said. “We’re supposed to circulate again.”
“I’m starting to wish you hadn’t read that wedding etiquette book.”
Spike and Vivian, Vivian in red with bugle beads swinging and her black hair shining, walked toward them.
“You look like a beautiful flapper,” Max said to Vivian when she got close.
“A very pregnant flapper,” Vivian commented. “This has been a fabulous day. Thank you for havin’ us.”
“Hoo Mama,” Spike said. “I’ve got to make this woman get off her feet. D’you know she even danced tonight?”
Vivian gave an angelic smile. “Anything a girl can do to help matters along, y’know,” she said. “Keep on bein’ happy, you two.”
“You do that,” Charlotte Patin said, joining them with her left hand around Homer’s upper arm. The diamond ring sparkled there again. “I want this man to head for home while he’s still sober.”
Homer reddened on cue and mumbled something. He patted Charlotte’s hand and she beamed before the four of them moved on.
Groups of people from out of town, Max and Roche’s friends, hung together deep in conversation. And just about every familiar Toussaint face could be found somewhere in the room. Even Lil and Ozaire were there, Lil seated in a comfortable chair and from what Max could tell, probably telling her story to yet another polite listener. Spike had told him she’d placed him or Roche at the clinic with Lee—until she heard Max had an alibi. He just hoped she wasn’t saying anything at all about that aspect of the incident.
Cyrus came to stand between them, a hand on each of their shoulders. “I just wanted to let you know everything’s going to be okay,” he said.
Max frowned at him. “What does that mean?”
“Cyrus.” Madge, stunning in yellow, planted herself in front of them. “Me, I know this man too well. I see it when he’s plannin’ one of his jokes. And they are rarely, I repeat, rarely funny.”
“Joke? Moi?” Cyrus spread his fingers on his chest and managed the most innocent and wounded expression. “It’s no joke that I have Dr. Roche Savage’s assurances that this marriage will be lived in a strictly Catholic manner. Or that he, Roche, will make sure the children—he expects a number of them, he says—are brought up with strict religious guidance. His own.”
“Roche must be drunk,” Max said, and his ears turned red.
Annie knew enough to keep quiet until the pair wandered off to huddle with Guy and Jilly, and Guy’s NOPD friend, Nat Archer, who turned a great many female heads.
“That reminds me,” Max said. “Didn’t we invite Wazoo? She should be with Nat.”
Annie slapped her forehead and looked at her watch. “Whoa, I thought it was later than it is. Wazoo’s been in and out, but she’s busy organizing the kitchen staff. I promised I’d spend a few quiet minutes with her in—” she checked the time again “—about five minutes, or four, I guess.”
“I can’t spare you,” Max said. He put his lips to her ear. “Seriously, I just want to be alone with you. I’ve had it with the fuss.”
“Soon,” Annie said. “That’s what I want, too. We’ll start our goodbyes as soon as Wazoo’s said her piece. I was glad Reb and Marc came to the church.”
Max rubbed the back of her neck. “They won’t get over losing Lee easily. We’re going to have to keep an eye on Roche in that area, too. He p
retends he’s fine, but he blames himself. He’s talking about how he shouldn’t have invited Michele to Toussaint as well. I was more responsible for that than he was but he’s not hearing me.”
“Give him time,” Annie said, although she knew too well how long it could take to get over some things.
“Here comes Wazoo,” Max said. “And right on time. I can stay with you, can’t I?”
Annie looked at him. “She said she wanted to talk to me alone. Can you handle that?”
“No,” he said as Wazoo arrived in front of them. “I’ll have to make you pay for it later. And not much later, if you don’t mind.” He left them and was immediately commandeered by slender little Wendy Devol, Spike’s daughter by his first marriage. With her hands on her hips, apparently very earnest, she looked up at him through her glasses as she spoke.
“She’s askin’ him if he does breast implants,” Wazoo said.
“She is not,” Annie said. “Shame on you. She’s too young to have breasts yet anyway.”
“Wendy thinks ahead,” Wazoo said. “I told you I gotta show you somethin’. We could just step outside a moment and hope we’re not followed.”
Annie didn’t want to leave, but she followed Wazoo into the vestibule and out through the front door, which Wazoo closed firmly. She took Annie by the hand and hurried her down the steps and off to a potting shed near the rose garden.
“I can’t go in there,” Annie said, indicating her dress.
“We don’t have to then,” Wazoo told her. “This can be done right here.”
She flourished a plastic grocery sack. “Know what’s in here?”
Unfortunately, Annie was certain she did know. “Don’t tell me you’re still carrying that nasty doll around. You said you’d take care of the thing.”
“And I have. I’m gonna prove it worked. It’s already proved it worked.” She peered into the sack, carefully removed the infamous brown bag and untied its top. The contents she dumped on the ground in a pool of light spilling from a lamp on the potting shed. “Look at that. Nothin’ left but dust, bits of rag and bits of wire. It did its job. It unraveled, and he unraveled. The wicked one got taken down.”
A Marked Man Page 34