by Anne Logan
Suddenly, her eyes widened and she seemed to grow paler. “The key!” Her fingernails bit into Alex’s hands. “Oh, God, that has to be what he was talking about.”
“I think you may be right. In fact, the sooner we find out exactly what that key fits, the sooner we’ll have some answers.”
With a final squeeze of her hands, Alex pulled free of her iron grip and stood.
“You’re not leaving, are you?”
Alex paused and turned to face Maddie. “No, not just yet,” he answered. “I need to check with the officer in charge to see if he’s turned up anything.”
Maddie glanced around quickly. “Alex, I—I can’t stay here anymore, not tonight, maybe not ever again until that—that man is caught. Could you please wait around until a taxi can pick me up.”
“Where will you go?”
“I—I don’t know. To a hotel, I guess—at least for tonight.”
“Hmm…” Alex’s forehead creased in thought. “I doubt you’ll find a vacant room tonight. There are a couple of big conferences in town, and on top of that, the Saints play a preseason game with the Oilers Sunday. Those Houston fans will have booked what rooms are left.”
Maddie felt her insides quiver with fear. “But I can’t stay here. I—I just can’t.”
Alex reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Okay, okay. Just take it easy. I’ll call around and see if any thing’s available.”
After several phone calls, Maddie could tell from Alex’s expression that he wasn’t having any luck. When he slapped the telephone book closed, she knew the news wasn’t good.
For several moments, he stood with his back to her. Then he straightened and turned to face her. “As I see it, the only logical thing to do is for you to come home with me.”
“What!”
“It’s the obvious solution,” he said calmly. “And if proprieties are what you’re worried about, that’s not a problem, since my fifteen-year-old daughter is staying with me for the next few weeks. You’ll be perfectly safe.”
The revelation that he had a child left Maddie speechless. Alex had a daughter. A fifteen-year-old daughter—a teenager.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ALEX SHIFTED uncomfortably in the seat. Inviting Maddie to come home with him had seemed like the only logical solution at the time, the only rational thing to do, but now…now, he wasn’t so sure.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter and tried to draw in a deep breath. The air in the car was heavy with Maddie’s unique scent. The more he was around Maddie, the more he felt like a yo-yo, spinning out of control. Yet, each time he tried to analyze the awareness, to dissect his reactions to her, all he could think of was how right Maddie had felt in his arms. And even now, he wondered how her lips would taste…soft…sweet…hot…
“Your daughter. What’s her name?”
The sound of her voice jolted him like an electrical charge, and it took Alex a moment before he could answer “Her name is Carla,” he finally said, glancing at her.
“Won’t she think it’s a bit odd for her father to bring home some strange woman?”
A wry smile pulled at his lips. “Normally, she probably would, but in your case, believe me, she’ll be thrilled.”
Maddie tilted her head and frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“She already knows about you.”
Knows what? Maddie wondered. She couldn’t imagine that Alex had discussed the circumstances surrounding Michael’s death—not with his fifteenyear-old daughter. So what other reason would he have to talk about her to Carla? Her heart fluttered for a moment as she considered another possibility. Was his interest in her more personal than she had thought? Were her own feelings reciprocated?
“Carla is in to music,” Alex explained. “She’s been writing songs almost since she was old enough to hold a pencil, and when I told her that you had worked for Judd Cameron…” He shrugged. “What can I say except that teenagers are easily impressed.”
Maddie stiffened.
“I don’t mean to offend you,” he continued, “but I don’t really like the idea of Carla being so infatuated with the music business.” He paused for a pregnant moment, and in a flash of light from an oncoming car, Maddie thought she saw a frown of indecision cross his face. When he began to speak again, his voice was flat, without emotion, as if he’d decided to simply say what was on his mind and get it over with. “I was hoping I could enlist your help in discouraging her,” he stated. “She needs to concentrate on getting an education and studying toward a real career, one she can make a living at.”
Maddie felt as if he’d slapped her. “Don’t you think that’s a pretty narrow attitude?” she asked sharply.
“Maybe it is,” he said slowly, evenly, “but we both know the odds of actually succeeding in the music business. I just feel she would be better off setting her goals on something a little more realistic and substantial.”
Abruptly, all the arguments she’d had on the tip of her tongue vanished. After all, she thought, what could she say? There was no arguing with his logic. She, of all people, knew how few and far between the opportunities for success were. And even though she had never let that knowledge stop her, Alex would never understand that some people had the kind of dream that no amount of logic could dissuade.
By the time they reached Alex’s apartment, Maddie was sure of one thing. If Alex Batiste thought she was going to talk his daughter out of pursuing her dreams, then he could just think again.
Alex unlocked the door, set her suitcase down inside the room and motioned for Maddie to go in. “Make yourself at home while I get Carla. She’s next door with Mrs. Sweeney.”
Maddie looked around the small living room, but found little in the way of clues that would give her any insight into what kind of man Alex was.
There was an entertainment center—complete with television, VCR and stereo—that took up the entire width of one wall. And arranged on top was a collection of framed snapshots. A sofa, a matching chair, a recliner, coffee table and end tables made up the rest of the furnishings. The walls were bare except for several certificates of commendation hanging behind the sofa.
The room was neat and orderly, but because it lacked any of the little details that gave a place the feeling of a real home, Maddie concluded that Alex didn’t spend much time here.
Curious, she walked over to the entertainment center and glanced at each of the pictures. Most of the photographs were of a girl—Carla, she presumed— and had been taken at different stages of childhood. There was also a family portrait—a man, a woman and four young boys, one of which Maddie recognized as a younger version of Alex. And the last picture was of Alex and another man standing on a dock with a fishing boat in the background. Both men proudly displayed huge fish.
Maddie stared at the man beside Alex. Something about him looked vaguely familiar, and she finally recalled that he was the man she’d met in the coroner’s office, the man Alex had introduced as Jack Moore.
Before Maddie had time to wonder about the relationship between the two men, the front door opened and Alex walked in. “Carla will be along in a minute.”
A sudden, awkward silence fell between them, and to fill the gap, Maddie turned back to the photographs. “I was just looking at your pictures. Your daughter is lovely.”
“Thanks. I think so, but of course, I’m a bit prejudiced.”
“This picture here.” Maddie pointed to the one of Alex and Jack. “Isn’t he the man you introduced me to at the coroner’s office?”
Alex grinned and walked over to stand beside her. “Yeah, Jack and I go back a long way. Been friends since we were kids.”
Maddie indicated the picture of the four boys and the couple. “Your family?”
Alex nodded. “My parents and my brothers.”
“Do they live in New Orleans, too?”
He shook his head and chuckled. “My dad wouldn’t be caught dead living in the city. They live in a little fishing vi
llage a few miles west called Bayou Gauche. John lives in Baton Rouge, and David lives in Lake Charles.”
“And your other brother?”
Something bleak flickered in his eyes. “Matthew died in Vietnam.”
His statement was without emotion, succinct; it didn’t invite sympathy or further probing.
At that moment, the front door opened again, and a young girl burst into the room.
Alex turned and smiled. “Maddie Johnson, this is my daughter, Carla.”
None of the girl’s pictures did her justice, Maddie thought. Like her ruggedly, handsome father, Carla had dark hair and dark eyes. But there was something else about the girl that intrigued Maddie. Carla had the beginnings of the kind of haunting beauty that transcended description—a dreamy, otherworldly quality.
Carla smiled, and her dark eyes seemed to suddenly glitter with life. “Hey,” she said. “Dad told me what happened to you. Boy, you should have seen him move it after your call. He was out of here like a shot. It’s just too bad they didn’t catch that creep.”
Maddie swallowed hard. “Yes,” she whispered. “Too bad.”
“Wow, I bet you were scared. Did he—”
Alex cleared his throat loudly and gave Carla a pointed look. “Maddie’s already been interrogated enough for one night, sweetheart.”
Though grateful to Alex, Maddie felt sorry for Carla as a flush of embarrassment stole across the girl’s face.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “I guess I wasn’t thinking.
“Now…would anyone like something to drink, some soda or iced tea?” Alex changed the subject.
Maddie turned grateful eyes toward him and nodded. “Tea would be wonderful.”
“Carla?”
“Orange soda for me, please,” she answered quietly.
As soon as Alex disappeared through a doorway Maddie assumed led to the kitchen, Carla hesitated a moment then faced Maddie again. “Did you really sing with Judd Cameron?” she asked shyly, her eyes glancing self-consciously in the direction her father had gone.
This I can handle, thought Maddie, glad that the awkward moment had passed. With a nod, she gave the eager-faced girl what she hoped looked like a smile. “For the past two years.”
“So why did you quit? Or is that too personal?” she quickly added.
Alex stuck his head around the kitchen door. “I heard that, and that’s too personal!”
“No—no…it’s okay,” Maddie called out. “I really don’t mind.” She reached over and gently took Carla by the arm. With her other hand, she motioned toward the sofa. “Why don’t we sit down, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
An hour later, Alex covered a yawn with his hand. He hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise since he’d served the drinks.
On the one hand, he was relieved to see that Maddie had bounced back after her close call with the intruder—the fear that had dulled her blue eyes had finally disappeared. And he couldn’t remember ever seeing Carla so…so…animated was the only word to describe how his daughter was responding to Maddie. A far cry from her earlier sullen mood with him, he thought irritably.
But on the other hand, Maddie had yet to say anything that would discourage Carla from pursuing her pie-in-the-sky dreams—in fact, he was beginning to wonder if introducing Carla to Maddie had been such a great idea, after all.
Carla suddenly giggled at something Maddie said, and Maddie laughed.
When they instantly resumed their nonstop chatter, Alex wanted to groan. He was beginning to wonder if they would ever wind down, and since all the music lingo they threw back and forth sounded like Greek to him, anyway, he’d long since stopped trying to follow or participate in the conversation. Instead of being grateful that the two were getting along so well, truth was, he felt like a fifth wheel.
Alex shifted uncomfortably in his chair as a fleeting thought crossed his mind. Could it be that his sudden grouchiness was due to jealousy, jealousy because, unlike her relationship with him, Carla seemed to instantly mesh with Maddie?
Ridiculous, he thought. After all, he was a grown man, and as far back as he could remember, he’d never had a jealous bone in his body. The only reason he was feeling so left out and exasperated was fatigue, he reasoned, fatigue and the fact that things were not working out quite as he had hoped.
Alex cleared his throat. “I hate to break this up, but you two are sitting on my bed, and I’d like to get some sleep.”
Maddie was embarrassed. If Alex intended to sleep on the sofa, that could only mean that he was giving her his bed. No way could she impose on him like that. Besides, the mere thought of sleeping in his bed seemed much too…too…intimate. The prospect made her feel terribly uncomfortable.
“There’s no need for you to take the sofa,” she quickly responded. “I’m the freeloader here.” She patted the seat of the sofa. “I’ll be more than happy to sleep here.”
Alex shook his head. “I think you’d be more comfortable in the bedroom where there’s some privacy.”
Maddie started to protest again, but Carla interrupted her with a loud sigh. “You might as well give in,” she said. “Believe me—and I know—when Dad makes up his mind, there’s no changing it. And besides, what the hey? We can always go in my room and talk some more.” She threw her father a teasing look. “That way, the old grumpus can get his beauty rest.”
Alex glanced at his watch. “Carla, it’s after eleven. Don’t you think you should get to bed, too?”
“Come on, Dad, get real. It’s Friday night, and it’s still summer break. School doesn’t start for another two weeks.”
Alex yawned again. “Oh, yeah, I forgot.” He shrugged. “Whatever.”
As much as Maddie was enjoying talking to Carla, she sensed that something was bothering Alex, something other than his being tired. Several times, she had glanced his way to find him wearing a strange, almost brooding look. Given that he’d contributed next to nothing to the conversation, his reticence had begun to make her uneasy. Aware of how little she actually knew about his personal life or his relationship with his daughter, she certainly didn’t want to be the cause of any problems.
She turned to Carla. “We can talk more tomorrow. I’m afraid this old grumpus needs her beauty rest, too.”
A few minutes later, Maddie was staring at the huge king-size bed in Alex’s bedroom while she undressed and dreading the moment she would have to climb in.
Suddenly, she heard someone playing guitar. The soft music floated through the air. Tilting her head, Maddie pinpointed the source as Carla’s room. She was unfamiliar with the soft, dreamy song, but it enthralled her. The girl was obviously talented. If that song was a sample of one of her compositions, then Alex was whistling in the wind to think he could suppress such a gift.
As the strains of the lovely tune died away, the melody continued playing in Maddie’s head. She could imagine two lovers dancing, swaying back and forth, their lips clinging.
Still thinking about the song, Maddie automatically reached out and turned back the bed covers. It was when she climbed in that a sudden, intense feeling of self-consciousness washed over her. This was where he slept each night, she thought.
An unexpected image of Alex’s dark head resting against the white pillowcase next to hers sent a wave of desire rushing through her veins.
While Maddie was giving herself a lecture about the foolishness of such thoughts, Alex shifted restlessly on the sofa as he first tried one position then flipped over to try another one.
In the quiet, darkened room, without the distraction of Carla playing guitar, it was too easy to imagine Maddie lying in his bed, too easy to remember how she had felt in his arms after she’d fainted the first day he’d met her. And too damn easy to recall exactly how she’d felt clinging to him earlier that evening with her body pressed intimately against his own.
With a groan and a muttered curse, Alex finally sat up and slid his feet onto the floor. Hunched over and perched on the edge of the so
fa, he propped his elbows on his knees. Wondering how in the hell he was going to get any sleep, he shoved his fingers through his hair. The image of Maddie sleeping in his bed—not alone but with him lying next to her—was driving him crazy, especially since he felt guilty for having such thoughts about a woman who had been through as much as Maddie had.
WEST OF NEW ORLEANS, in a remote swamp, a man dressed in black and carrying a flashlight, made his way down a well-worn, narrow path. Around his neck, a large, silver medallion dangled from a heavy silver chain and swayed back and forth with each step he took. The medallion was shaped into a quarter moon and was encrusted with fiery rubies. Within the quarter moon and surrounded by the rubies was an ornate, upside-down cross of marcasite from which the figure of a man, carved out of ebony, hung.
As the man strode purposefully down the sodden path, palmetto palms and swamp grass on either side brushed his long robe. In the distance, he could see the eerie glow of firelight. All around him, the haunting sounds of night creatures that inhabited the brackish water was punctuated by the steady, droning noise of voices, chanting the same strange words in unison.
The opening prayers had already begun and wouldn’t end until he arrived.
An angry frown suddenly distorted his face, making him appear sinister and menacing in the dim glow of the full moon. Tonight should have heralded the beginning of the initiation ceremony, he thought.
For months, they had been preparing for this night. But now it would have to be delayed, thanks to the bungling of one of his priests. And every day that the ceremony was delayed, they lost time, recruits and money, and increased the risk of being exposed. Without the ceremonial disc and its mesmerizing, hypnotic power, a power that had been in existence since his great-grandfather’s time, the cause was in serious jeopardy. And without the disc, the final victory that had seemed so close up until a week ago, would be doomed for all eternity. And he, the last of his bloodline, would have failed…yet again.
CHAPTER NINE
EARLY SATURDAY morning, Alex quietly dressed then put on a pot of coffee. Sleep had been sporadic, at best. He’d had hours to think during the long, restless night. About Maddie And about the mysterious key.