by Nancy Gideon
“Skipped for Vegas with another stripper.”
“What a sweetheart.”
“Yeah. From there, it’s the same old story. Girl too proud to call for bus fare to get home. Tries to put money away, ends up putting it into her arm, and turns up on a slab. Mom’s made arrangements to take her back to Iowa when Dovion gives the okay.”
Babineau sighed. “Parenting is hell.” The layers in that couldn’t go unaddressed.
“Oscar’s a good kid, Alain.”
He turned on her, his expression fierce, voice ripping with anger. “I don’t need you to tell me what my boy is. Or what my wife is. I think I’d know those things better than you and your fancy-ass, cop-killing, four-legged boyfriend.”
Retaliatory words were immediately on her lips, but a quiet voice from behind her said, “Mr. Fancy-Ass Cop-Killing Four-Legged Boyfriend thinks it’s time we took this outside.”
Seven
BABINEAU SURGED UP, his chair careening into a stack of magazines, sending them sliding across the floor. “Way past time.”
Max curled an arm about Cee Cee to lift her out of the doorway. His stare burned into the other man’s while his tone was conversational.
“Tell Tina we’ll be back in a minute.” Without looking around to see the boy approach, he said, “Oz, go help your mama.”
“But, Max—”
“Do as you’re told,” Babineau snapped, earning a sullen poke of the boy’s bottom lip and an unmistakable stiffening of Max’s posture as Oscar mumbled, “Awright.”
Babineau pushed past Cee Cee and his adopted son to lead the way out onto his little eight-square deck off the living room. A foldout camping table with built-in seats was set up under a faded umbrella. A far stretch from the cool verandas and wicker furniture out on River Road.
“You’ve no call to talk to the boy like that,” Max began.
Babineau rocked back on his heels, hands clenching at his side. “I’ll talk to him any way I like. He’s my son.”
“He’s my blood.”
“That doesn’t give you any rights here in my home. And if you think different, I’ll toss you to the curb.”
Max’s stare was icy. “Don’t put a hand on me unless you want this to get uncivilized in a hurry, Detective.”
“What the hell is civilized about what you are?”
“Nothing. Remember that. The only reason you’re still alive is Charlotte. So be careful not to get on her bad side.”
“I’ll pass along a friendly warning to you, bub. Cee Cee is cop all the way around, no matter what side of her you get up on in the morning. And I’d know.”
Maybe not the smartest thing to say to a man who was not human, with dangerously possessive animal tendencies.
When Max refused to be goaded into a response, Babineau paced to the steps leading down into his yard and dropped onto the top one. His temper lost out to anguish.
“Is what she said true? Are Tina and Oscar . . . like you?”
“Oscar, yes. There are those who would go to any lengths to have him.”
“Like those creatures that snatched him from school.”
“Yes. He needs to be protected. You need to understand the danger he’s in.”
“He’s my boy, and I can take care of him without your interference.”
“No, you can’t.”
Babineau didn’t argue. He was thinking about those seven sleek beings who’d kidnapped Oscar. That it was Max who rescued him, taking bullets that miraculously didn’t kill him. He was seeing those red flaming eyes, the fangs and claws. And the way Max tore through those who would harm his boy in a way he never could.
“What would you suggest?” he asked heavily.
“That he come to stay with me. The estate has security. He’d be safe.”
“And he’d grow up behind those walls just like you did, separated from life. A damned freak.”
Max didn’t answer right away. When he did, his reply was quiet. “It’s not what I would have wanted for him.”
“It’s not what I want at all. Dammit, and damn you for bringing this down on us.”
“I didn’t bring it. They didn’t even know about me.”
“Who wants him?”
“I don’t know.”
“What are they?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, aren’t you just full of helpful information.”
“He’s your son. I can’t tell you what to do.”
“Damn straight.”
“But you can’t keep me out of his life, either. He needs someone to teach him how to use his skills to protect himself.”
“So you want to introduce my kid to all your shaggy pals?”
“No. The fewer who know what he is, the better. Some secrets are meant to be kept for the good of all. You might want to impress that upon Hammond and Boucher. Jimmy hid me from notice for good reason. I didn’t know what I was until my father found me and told me.”
“Your father?”
“Oscar’s father. He’s dead now, so I can’t find out any more from him.”
“Oscar’s father. Tina’s . . . what?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t know Oscar and I were related until after our father died. I don’t know the details. I’m not sure Tina does, either.”
“We knew there was something wrong with the boy, but thought it was something like ADD. But Tina—” His voice broke. “She’s not human? They’re not human? How could she hide something like this from me?”
For a moment Max saw not a threat, but a man whose heart was shattered. “Probably because she doesn’t know.”
The sliding door opened behind them.
“Hey, you two, wash up. We’re about ready to eat,” Tina said.
And as Babineau went inside, Max noted how he went out of his way not to brush against the woman he’d married.
THE SUN WAS warm, the breeze light, the food ample and satisfying. Oscar and Tina kept up a steady banter with Max, while Alain and Cee Cee were mostly quiet. The only topic they could safely talk about, work, had been placed off-limits.
Max made his move, asking Tina, “What’s Oscar doing over his school break this summer?”
“We haven’t thought about it yet.”
Oscar perked up, all ears.
“I’ve been thinking about inviting him to stay out at the house. That’d give you two some time alone, too. Would you like that, Ozzy?”
Oscar bounced in his lawn chair. “Could I? We could do things together like you promised. And Giles and Pete can teach me about cars and engines and stuff.”
Max’s gaze lifted, cool and calculated. “We’d have to make sure it was okay with your father.”
Babineau met that steady stare without betraying the fury roaring through him. What could he say without coming off like the villain? “It’s a ways off, Oscar. I thought we were planning to do some stuff together, just you and me?”
Oscar blinked at him, too young to cloak his disappointment. “Oh, yeah.”
“There are a lot of weeks in the summer. No reason you can’t do both.” Max smiled, the clever diplomat.
“We can talk about it later,” Tina decided, changing the volatile subject by telling Cee Cee, “What beautiful pearls.”
Cee Cee touched them, flustered by the sudden compliment. “Oh, thanks. Max bought them for me.”
She could swear she heard her partner’s teeth grind across the table.
They were clearing the dishes when a distinctive roar caught Cee Cee’s attention. She leaned over the kitchen sink to look out the window and gave a whistle.
“Man oh man, will you look at that hot baby.”
Tina looked at the bright orange car rumbling down the street, perplexed when it turned into the driveway to sit idling. “That’s no one we know.”
Max settled his hands at Cee Cee’s waist. “Sounds like a 1969 Yenko Camaro 427. Only two hundred others ever made.”
She turned, her gaze bright with excitement
.
He smiled. “Go see if you like it, sha.”
With an uncharacteristic squeal, she raced outside. Giles St. Clair, Max’s burly bodyguard, had climbed out and was polishing the chrome side-view mirror with his shirttail. Before Max made it to the front steps, the hood was up and the two of them were under it as Giles pointed out the Corvette big-block V-8 that had been swapped out for the factory engine, along with the heavy-duty hardware and performance upgrades. The sight of her polka-dot-clad rump in the girlie dress and high heels as she leaned into the engine compartment sent a supercharged rush of lustful pleasure through him.
“She’s a lucky woman,” Tina commented, standing at his side.
“No,” he disagreed softly. “I’m the lucky one.”
“Wow! What a great car!” Oscar ran down the drive to be greeted by Giles’s boisterous, “Hey, sport. Got something for you, too. Go on and grab it out of the backseat.”
Oscar reached in to pull out a bulky box. “Wow, a radio-controlled car. And it looks just like this one!”
“Ever driven one of those before?” Giles asked.
He shook his head, all wide-eyed.
“C’mon. It’s all charged up. I’ll bet we can get it running the bases at the school.”
Oscar looked up toward the porch. “Can we, Mama?”
“Go ahead.”
While Giles crossed the street with Oscar bounding at his side, Max went down the drive to where Cee Cee was waiting.
“Like it, Det—”
She threw an arm about his neck and hauled him down for a deep, tongue-thrusting kiss that melted into a lot more emotion than she normally showed in public. She came down off her toes and gently rubbed her lipstick off his mouth.
“You’re the best, Savoie.”
“I kinda made a mess of the last one. Knowing how you love fast, sexy, dangerous things, I couldn’t resist.”
“Yes, I do.” Her gaze smoldered with promise. She kissed him again very softly and warned, “You’d better go over to the ball diamond with the boys while I can still resist you.”
As she slid behind the wheel, adjusting the seat and mirrors, as excited as a kid herself, Max watched with a satisfied smile. Until Alain Babineau jockeyed by him with a low growl that sounded like, “You son of a bitch.”
They sat on the first row of the bleachers watching Giles teach Oscar how to maneuver the radio-controlled car. While Babineau was sullenly thinking that here was yet another thing the boy would turn to Savoie for, Max dropped a bomb on him with deceiving nonchalance.
“Tell me about you and Charlotte.”
Surprise took him like an unexpected elbow to his still-aching nose. “Say what?”
Everything about Savoie put his back up. The fact that he was a criminal and should be doing time instead of playing big brother to his son. The fact that Oscar never acted like spending time with him was the best gift in the world. The fact that he had to work hard just for groceries and cable, when Savoie could effortlessly conjure up pearls and a car. And the fact that Savoie had scars on his body from saving Oscar’s life. Alain hated feeling grateful to him for that.
Max continued to watch the miniature car spin around the bases. “She tells me the two of you had an affair.”
Alain stared, then drawled, “If she told you that much, I’m sure she gave you all the details she felt you needed to know.”
Savoie’s gaze slid slowly to meet his. “Let’s pretend she’s never told me anything and that I’m asking you, man-to-man.”
“Man-to-man? That would be pretending.”
The bastard. Who did he think he was, acting as if an answer was due him? Just because he directed the majority of illegal activities in and around the city, just because he’d stepped from anonymity into obscene wealth and power, swaggering around as if he was untouchable, as if he wasn’t a monster but a real man deserving of Charlotte Caissie, didn’t give Savoie the right to pry into his very personal life. Wasn’t it enough that he had Cee Cee’s heart on a plate and Oscar’s devotion as a side dish?
“Fuck off, Savoie. What happened between me and Cee Cee is none of your damned business.”
“She told me it was nothing.” Max said smugly.
“If that’s what she told you, then why ask me?”
“I just wanted to make sure that that’s how you saw it, too.”
Babineau wanted to smack that smirk off the bastard’s face, but he wasn’t quite that stupid. He settled for a gradual insinuating smile. “What we have is a history together, Savoie. It goes back a long, long way, on a lot of different levels you couldn’t even begin to imagine or understand. That won’t change no matter who she’s sleeping with.”
Chew on that, you son of a bitch. Hope you choke on it.
Cee Cee stood at the kitchen window, drying off glasses while keeping an eye on the two men across the street. While appearing cordial, Max had been in her partner’s face from the second they arrived, and she knew Babineau had had about enough of it. Especially on top of everything else recently sprung upon him.
Men. Geez.
“Are you sure Ozzy wouldn’t be a bother, staying with you?” Tina asked, interrupting Cee Cee’s thoughts.
“No way. He’s a great kid. Max is crazy about him. He didn’t have any kind of childhood himself. I think he sees Ozzy as his chance to enjoy those things he missed.”
Tina looked across the street with a wistful smile. “He and Max get on so well. Like they have some special sort of understanding between them. He never took to Alain like that. I don’t know why—they just aren’t on the same wavelength, I guess.”
Cee Cee glanced at her. Could it be that she still didn’t know?
Tina caught her look and smiled. Behind the perky exterior, Cee Cee sensed a weariness and worry as the other woman said, “I never got the chance to thank you personally for what you did for Oscar. Alain and I are so incredibly grateful.”
She shrugged. “All in a day’s work. You had the really tough job.” At Tina’s confused look, she said, “Raising him by yourself for so long. That took courage.”
“I didn’t have a lot of choice.”
“Yes, you did. And you chose the hard road.”
Tina blushed. “I don’t have regrets. Not any.”
Cee Cee hesitated, wondering how far she dare take this. Her social skills were pathetic, but she took a chance that Tina Babineau might be in the same boat.
“Alain never said much about your past, only that his sun rises and sets on you and your boy.”
Tina looked away uncomfortably. “My past isn’t much to talk about. I try to forget it, when I can.”
“I know you stayed at St. Bart’s for a time before Ozzy was born. Did you know I practically grew up there?”
“Sister Catherine talked about you all the time— though I’m not sure I believe all the stories she told about when you two were girls.”
Cee Cee grinned. “Believe them.” Then her mood sobered. “We went through a real ugly ordeal together. It changed everything about our lives, about who we became. I don’t think I ever would’ve gotten past it if not for Max.”
“And did you? Get over it?”
Cee Cee looked into the hopeful face and couldn’t lie. “No. I’ll never get over it. But I can forget about it for a time. And that’s enough.”
Tina’s dark eyes held haunting secrets, the kind Cee Cee understood all too well, and her mood toward Alain’s wife softened.
“If you need someone to talk to, someone who knows what it’s like to be scared and helpless and alone and survive it, you might find I’m a pretty good listener.”
Tina studied her carefully, and she was about to speak when Cee Cee’s cell phone rang. She held back a curse as she went to the living room to pull it out of her purse.
“Caissie.”
“Sorry to tap you on your day off.”
She blinked in surprise. “Showboat?” Stan Schoenbaum of Vice was no buddy of hers, and the last person
she expected to hear from after he and Max had gotten into it during a softball game.
“I need to talk to you about the case you’re working on. Now.”
She blinked. “Where do you want to meet? Babs and I can be there—”
“Just you, Caissie. Newton’s in fifteen. Say you’ll be there.” There was urgency in his usually arrogant voice—and desperation.
“All right,” she said slowly.
“Caissie . . . thanks.”
Now she was alarmed.
She returned to the kitchen with a regretful smile. “Gotta go. Thanks for the invite. It was nice of you.”
“Maybe we could talk some more. Maybe have lunch.”
Cee Cee liked the idea, which surprised her. “Yeah. We could do that.”
They shared a smile. Their first.
CEE CEE STOOD at the door to her new car and softly said, “Max.”
His dark head shot up from across the street, and at her beckoning gesture he came to her side at a brisk lope.
“I gotta go, baby.”
Used to her business tone, he didn’t ask for details. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah. I’ll see you at home.”
He opened the car door for her, enjoying her pleasure as she slid into the black leather bucket seat and caressed the steering wheel. He closed her inside and was about to step back when she leaned out the window.
“C’mere.”
Happy to reap another sweet benefit in thanks for the gift, he bent to accept a kiss that was rich and tender. And definitely not about a big-block V-8.
Her palm rested against his cheek, keeping him close while she gazed into his eyes with raw emotion. “I was never truly alive until you. I just wanted you to know that.”
Then the engine roared and she tore out of the driveway, dragging his heart behind her.
_________
NEWTON’S WAS QUIET. The lunch crowd had gone and the serious drinkers were still in bed. Stan Schoenbaum, sitting in a booth at the back, was already into his second bourbon. When he looked up at her, she was struck by his ravaged features.
“Hey, Caissie.” His tone was flat, lifeless.
She slid into the booth. “What’s going on, Stan?”
He fidgeted with his glass, his eyes puffy and red. “You’re working that ‘Tides That Bind’ case, right?”