Body of Evidence

by Stella Cameron

  “Was there a message?” he asked. “He didn’t walk in here, leave ten grand and leave without letting you know what was on his mind, did he?”

  Misery engulfed her. The tiredness that had seemed so far away seeped back in. “He said he was my friend.” She had to be careful.

  “Did you recognize his voice?”

  “No. Never heard it before.”

  “What else did he say?”

  She shrugged, sorting through for what she could safely tell him. “He said he would look after me and he’d keep me safe. That’s about it.”

  “What do you think about that?”

  He questioned her like a machine, like a stranger. “I’m not sure, but I have my reasons for not wantin’ what happened spread all over the place. That’s why I didn’t call Billy.”

  “You know you’ll have to talk to him, though, right? Look at the timin’ of all this. Denise was murdered yesterday afternoon, and a few hours later some whacko gets into this house…bringin’ good-sized gifts. You’re not tellin’ me the whole story, are you?”

  A curl fell over her face, and she worked it into the rest of her hair, then tried to flatten everything by passing her hands repeatedly over her head.

  “Please leave it,” Finn said. “And I’m not bein’ bossy. You’re a bundle of nerves, but there’s no reason to spoil the way you look. Tell me the rest of what he said.”

  “He said not to tell anyone he was here.”

  “Figures.”

  “I think I’m okay now,” she said, knowing all too well he wouldn’t just go away because she tried to put him off.

  “That’s great,” Finn said. “Now finish the story.”

  She put her face in her hands. “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Other people could be in trouble.”

  “Who?”

  “Finn, don’t push me.” It was her own fault. She’d called him, but she had tried to back out.

  “I’m pushin’.” The bed moved, and he settled closer to her. “I promise I’ll steer you right—to the best of my ability.”

  “You’re going to blow up when I ask you this. Tell me you won’t go to Billy if I ask you not to.”

  “What makes you expect me to get mad?”

  Orville always does. “I know I haven’t handled this right, so I feel guilty, I guess.”

  He rested a hand on top of her head. “I’ll do my best to make the right decision.”

  He’ll go straight to Billy Meche.

  “Come on, Emma.” He passed his hand from the top of her head to frame her cheek. She wanted to close her eyes, stay right where she was and not answer more questions.

  “He didn’t make much sense. He told me to stay away from what he called ‘the new man,’ and I’m pretty sure he meant you. I haven’t met any other men. He said you could be dangerous.” She swallowed twice. “And he said he’d deal with you if he had to.” It sounded awful that she hadn’t told him about the warning at once.

  “A threat, and it sounded like a threat of bodily harm…or death?”

  “Yes. And I should have told you as soon as he left. I guess I don’t see how he could be any match for you, and I’m afraid of Orville…. It will be harder if Orville finds out I got into another scrape.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Emma didn’t intend to discuss her marriage. “Nothin’ really.”

  “Did the guy say anything about Orville?”

  “Kind of.”

  Miraculously, Finn let the topic drop. “We have to go to the police.” He inclined his head to look at her closely. “You’re worn out. We waited this long, we might as well wait a while longer. Try to get a couple of hours sleep, then we’ll go in.”

  Orville could decide to come up here.

  No. Orville had never gone out of his way for her, why would he start now? He would be fast asleep.

  “Okay,” she said. “But I can go into town on my own. You were so sweet to come and help me out—and make me see what I have to do.” Not that she didn’t expect to be tongue-lashed by Billy—and eventually by Orville.

  “I’ll be taking you downtown,” Finn said.

  “No, really. I… It’s not a good idea.”

  “In case your husband sees me?”

  He understood too much, and figuring her out hadn’t taken nearly long enough. “Orville gets uptight about things like this. I don’t need the extra grief.”

  “Doesn’t sound like your husband’s as supportive as he might be. Sorry.”

  If she didn’t keep running off at the mouth, he wouldn’t get ammunition to use against Orville. “It’s okay. We’re just fine.”

  “Good. I’ll tell him I live down the road, so it was easy—”

  “Please don’t do that. Okay? You promise?”

  He looked at her too sharply. “I promise I won’t.” Whatever he had to say to settle her down, he would say it. But he thought he had the picture. Mrs. Lachance’s husband was no Santy Claus type. Finn doubted there was a whole lot of laughter in their home, and the lady was afraid of Orville.

  “I’ll stay in here, then. You can—”

  “I’ll be fine on a couch downstairs. I may close my eyes for a few.”

  Once he was back downstairs, he pulled his shirt over his head and stretched out on a couch in the living room, where he had a wall at his back and a perfect visual sweep of the area.

  Another reason for not rushing to the cop shop was that those folks were already in over their heads with a murder investigation. They’d done a good job of securing the crime scene and following protocol, but he could see the inexperience of a couple of the younger officers. Billy would have his hands full making sure the case didn’t get derailed.

  Finn faced the back of the couch. Lying on his back didn’t always feel so great anymore. He would rely on his excellent hearing for half an hour or so.

  He was tired, and his eyelids slid shut. One lucky skill he had was being able to decide when he would wake up. He would take an hour.

  For an exhausted woman, Emma had no luck switching her brain off and getting some rest. Teddy wrapped herself around her benefactor’s head and licked her ear, then got bored and burrowed under the covers. She found Emma’s middle and scratched it with her rough tongue.

  Billy would definitely insist on talking to Orville, but still, Emma would try to buy some time before he did. That could be worked out.

  She sat up.

  More than one or two people had said the reason for Denise’s murder might be something to do with her pointed articles. She wondered if the police would have searched Denise’s place and maybe the paper already. Could be they hadn’t had time.

  She slipped from the bed and walked on bare feet to the landing and down the stairs. Blinking, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Dawn still hadn’t shown her pale, blurry fingers, and the house felt too still.

  Emma made out Finn’s silhouette sprawled on a couch and crept closer. When she was close enough, she peered at him. His back was to her, and one arm trailed to the floor. The other cradled his head. He’d taken off his shirt and she could make out his muscular back and arms quite well. She smiled at herself.

  A spike through his wrist hadn’t been all he’d suffered. Emma bent as close as she dared. From beneath his right shoulder blade, across his back, then swerving up and over his left shoulder, a knotted insult of a scar showed wide and dark even without more light. She closed her eyes and shook her head. A battle wound? She thought so. Visions of him being pinned down with the stake while someone tried to kill him with some sort of knife brought sweat to her upper lip and a deep sickness to her belly. She guessed this was why he wasn’t going back into the service. Or at least a big part of the reason.

  He moved so fast she didn’t have a hope of getting out of his way. A hand shot out, twisted Emma around and landed her, facedown, on the rug. Her forehead, knees and other parts stung.

  “Move, sucker, and you’re histo
ry.”

  Tears squeezed from her eyes but she made no sound. He wouldn’t hear her cry, but unfortunately, she didn’t seem able to talk anyway.

  “Don’t…move. Emma! Oh, for cryin’ out loud, you’re going to turn me into a gibberin’ idiot. What the hell are you doin’, sneakin’ up on me like that?”

  He’d released her arm and jumped to his feet. He swept her up in a King Kong move, sat her on the couch and turned on a lamp at either end. “You’re injured.” He sounded amazed. “This stinks. You’ve got rug burns on your face.”

  “And my knees and elbows. And my shoulder feels dislocated—and probably is. My ankle’s twisted, and my neck hurts.”

  He stood there, mute, his head to one side while he looked at her, moving his eyes from one place she’d mentioned to another—as if he could see anything through her clothes.

  She wrapped her arms around her waist and held on. Thinking about him seeing through her clothes embarrassed her.

  “You got your nose,” he said.

  Emma shook her head. “You got my nose.” She sighed. “But what the hey, you didn’t mean to. I suppose you’re just hypervigilant from being a Ranger.”

  “That could well be it, cher.” He reached for his shirt.

  What a shame to cover up a chest like that. The breadth of his powerful shoulders and heavily muscled arms would have been out of place with a skinny little body, but no problem there. Mmm, she wouldn’t blame mere men for resenting the washboard abs and smooth, rippling pecs. Neither could she blame a mere woman for drooling at the sight of smooth, black, manly hair that disappeared behind his zipper.

  You’re a disgrace, she told herself. You’re married and no longer see other men as sexual objects. What was Orville always saying when he leered after a sexy woman? “I may be on a diet, darlin’, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look at the menu.” Chuckle, chuckle, chuckle. He made her sick, and he was a phoney, too.

  “You seem a long way away.”

  At the sound of Finn’s voice, she started. “You have a terrible scar on your back. Did it happen—”

  “I’m not comfortable talkin’ about it. Just think of it as a war wound.” He spread his arms. “And as you can see, the guy who wanted me dead did a lousy job. Now, I should get some ice. Any bleeding anywhere? What should I do first, reduce the shoulder dislocation or strap your ankle?”

  “Everything feels better now. I was overreacting. If you ever see that murderous bastard who attacked you, give me a sign and I’ll kick him for you.”

  Finn laughed.

  “What’s so funny? I mean it.”

  “Of course you do, but I think you need to remember your limitations sometimes. What brought you down here, anyway?”

  She’d almost forgotten. “Do you think they’ll have searched Denise’s house yet?”

  “Probably not. It’ll be taped off. Probably there’s an officer on duty. But a small force can’t move as quickly as a big one.”

  “I know how to get to the back door, and I’ve got a key.”

  “Uh-uh. Absolutely not. If you want to get arrested, do somethin’ easy. Rob a bank. If we got caught messin’ with evidence inside Denise’s place, we’d be for the high jump. They’d slam the cuffs on, and we’d be lookin’ out from a jail cell.”

  “Would not,” Emma said, giving him a downturned smile. “You’re overreacting now. Billy would tell us off, and it wouldn’t be nice. But I don’t want to talk about this, I want to do it. What if there’s someone corrupt on the force and they steal the evidence we need? We’ve got to get over there.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nope. Not goin’ to happen.”

  “It is. With or without you. See you later.” She marched to the hall, where he caught up with her. Emma dropped her head and looked up at him with evil in her eyes. “I don’t advise you to try to stop me.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I don’t.”

  With his hands on his hips, he studied his bare feet, then hers. “Okay, I won’t, but I suggest we wear shoes. And make sure you’ve got your lawyer’s number with you.”

  “How do you know about that?” She turned and stared into his eyes. “Who have you been talking to?”

  “Huh? How do I know about what?”

  Her mouth worked, and she turned distinctly red. “Nothin’. Let’s go. We should take both cars, because I’ve got things to do afterward.”

  He didn’t like that idea but wasn’t in a position to argue. “Take it easy, okay?”

  “You’ve got it. I’ll go first. Denise’s house is pretty close to Bayou Nespique. We’ll approach from the Bayou side, through the trees. It’s pretty deserted around there.”

  “After you,” he said. “Do you have the money?”

  “Oh, no.” She hared upstairs and returned, stuffing the money back in its envelope. “There will be days when I wish I had a little of… We’d better hurry.”

  Days when she would wish she had some of that money? Sounded as if she expected to be financially strapped. Figuring she might be planning on getting rid of Orville and being left without money wasn’t too big a jump. Sure seemed as if that was what she meant. And he was a wishful thinker….

  She walked through the hall, making sure the money was safely packed away, and accidentally brushed against him.

  Finn’s standard reaction to Emma might have been irritatingly predictable if it hadn’t felt so good. She deserved better than to be hit on by some horny guy who’d been alone too long. Not that he was hitting on her, just thinking about it, and the thought wouldn’t be going any further.

  Abruptly, she stopped beside him and gave the softest smile. “I’m glad I met you again, Finn Duhon. You’re a decent man, and you’re pretty extraordinary. Thank you for lookin’ out for me.” Bobbing to her toes, she rested her hands on his shoulders and reached up to peck his cheek, only she missed and caught his bottom lip instead.

  “Oh dear.” She hunched her shoulders. “I never did have good aim. Forgive me.”

  He raised a finger. “Shoes,” he said, and strode back to push his feet into his sneakers. Emma’s were upstairs so, yet again, she rushed up, then returned wearing running shoes with trailing laces. She paused to stoop and tie them.

  “We should get to Denise’s before it’s light,” she said. “I’m hoping the police aren’t there yet.”

  He followed her outside and locked the door behind him.

  “Afterwards, I’ll talk to Billy,” Emma said.

  “Can we rethink going to Denise’s?” Finn said.

  “I told you, I’ll go on my own. I understand that you don’t want to come and risk getting more involved. You go home, and I’ll call you later.”

  “No way.” He groaned and got into his truck, watching Emma hop up into her Lexus and turn on the engine.

  He stomped on the gas, and blinding red smoke billowed to fill the cab.

  8

  “Get out!” Emma shrieked, running toward the truck.

  “Finn!” She reached the driver’s door and yanked it open.

  Smoke poured out.

  She tore at his arm. “Get out! It’s going to blow up!”

  “No, it’s not.” Finn jumped down and hurried her to fresh air. He caught her in a hug tight enough to wind her. “Thanks, though.”

  Emma kept hold on a handful of his shirt and watched the smoke gradually dissipate. “I thought you were goin’ to die,” she said in a voice that wobbled despite her best efforts.

  “So you decided the smartest thing was to die with me?”

  “No.” She tilted her chin up to see his face. “I was goin’ to get you out. Oh, so I sound stupid. I didn’t think, okay? What caused that stuff?”

  He rubbed her back. “A smoke bomb under the pedal. I’m drivin’ in with you. They’ll want to look the truck over. Best not mess with it anymore until they have.”

  “A smoke bomb,” she repeated slowly. “Like a kid’s firework?”

  “Close,
but not exactly. Someone made this one special.” He released her. “I’ll get a ride back up here with Billy.”

  That meant anyone who drove by and looked toward the house would see Finn’s truck. She would just have to deal with it.

  In the Lexus, Emma drove without saying anything until Finn broke the silence. “You doin’ all right?”

  “I’m shaken up is all. I really thought you were going to get spread all over my folks’ front yard.”

  “Nice picture,” he said. “How do you think that went down? The smoke bomb under my gas pedal? How did it get there?”

  “I sneaked out and put it there.”

  “Sure you did,” Finn said. “Think harder.”

  She tilted her head. “It’s obvious. The cowboy was still around, watchin’ the house when you arrived. He left us a warnin’.”

  “Uh-huh. We’re supposed to think the next time will be the real thing.”

  Emma felt overheated and chilled at the same time. Chilled inside. She rolled down her window. The air had not cooled down much overnight, but the wind pretended it was fresh, and, but for the dust particles, it might have been.

  “He was still there,” Emma said, almost to herself. “And I was plannin’ to search the property and the outside of the house as soon as it was light enough. I knew I had to find out how that man got inside. That was before I got cold feet and called you. Almost called you.”

  Finn leaned forward and rubbed his forehead hard.

  “What?” she said. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re scary. Emma, you don’t think things all the way through. You’re just one woman, and you’re not superhuman. Please, from here out, would you call me the moment you even think about putting yourself in danger?”

  She looked at his curly black hair, his long, strong fingers. The obvious answer came to her lips, but she held back, and she knew why. She didn’t want to tell him that what happened to her shouldn’t concern him, that they had no right to care about each other. Emma glanced at him repeatedly. He massaged his temples and appeared deep in thought.

  Just thinking about the scar on his back sent a watery horror climbing her spine. As he sat there now, with his shirt stretched over his skin and his short sleeves riding up, the long ridge pressed against the cotton, and the very end of the welt showed below his sleeve. “It wasn’t dealt with quickly enough,” she blurted out.