They'd both come to terms with what was happening. She'd told him on the plane she was ready to go. Her only wish was to see the plantation before she died. He gritted his teeth and resolved to make that happen, even if he had to break the law to do it.
The phone rang. It was the front desk. The night nurse had arrived. He said a silent prayer of thanks for Audrey's doctor in New York, who'd scheduled a series of nurses to stay with her. A few moments later, someone knocked softly at the door. He held two fingers to his lips as the nurse entered the room. "She's asleep. We came a long way and the trip tired her out. I've already given her some pain medication. She won't need anything for several hours, but I don't want her left alone. I'm in town on business, and I'll be in and out for a few days."
The woman nodded. "I'll take good care of her."
"I've got to check us in. I think I have the room next door, but I'm not sure. I'll let you know."
The clerk was very helpful, and a few minutes later Jack carried his luggage into the room next to Audrey's. He knocked softly on her door and handed the nurse a piece of paper. "I'm next door. Here's the number. If anything happens, call me." He rubbed the back of his aching neck. "It's been a long day and I'm going to try and catch a couple hours sleep."
Back in his room, his thoughts turned to Mary. He stretched out on the comfortable king–sized bed and wondered how long she planned to stay at the plantation. It occurred to him that she might have installed a phone since the plantation was so far out. It was worth a try. He dialed information, asked for her number, and was surprised when the operator found a listing. He tried it, but a recording told him the line was temporarily disconnected. Another operator verified problems with that number the last few days.
He wanted to go there now, but realized it would be foolish to try and find the plantation turn-off in the dark. Even though he hated doing it, he'd have to wait until morning. Weary from his long flight, he closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.
The ring of the phone woke him from a dreamless slumber. "Jack Windom."
"This is Mrs. Cooper, your nurse."
Instantly awake, he sat up. "Is Audrey all right?"
"She's fine. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I wanted to let you know it's almost time for me to leave, and the other nurse isn't here yet."
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Thank you. I'll be over in a few minutes." He took a quick shower, changed clothes, and knocked on the door.
Audrey greeted him with a smile as he entered the spacious room. Rays of sunlight filled the room as the nurse opened the curtains.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
Audrey wrinkled her nose. "Better than yesterday, but I'm still tired." She glanced at the nurse, who hovered in the doorway. "Thank you for waiting, Mrs. Cooper. You've been very kind. I'll see you tonight."
A few moments after the nurse left, a knock sounded on the door. Audrey remained silent while Jack spoke to someone in the hall. Money changed hands, then he turned and carried a tray filled with oatmeal, toast, orange juice, and coffee over to the bed.
Touched by his thoughtfulness, she managed a small smile. "I hate to tell you this, but I'm not really hungry. Why did you order so much?"
He placed the tray across her lap and reached for the coffee. "Because you need to eat to keep up your strength. Please, try to eat something," he coaxed.
She nibbled on a piece of toast. "What are you going to do today?"
"Once the nurse gets here, I'm going to the plantation to see if Mary's still there," he said, gulping the hot coffee. "With any luck, tomorrow you'll get your wish." He set the empty cup on the nightstand.
A coughing spasm shook her frail frame and he grabbed the wobbling tray with one hand and steadied her with the other. "Do you want me to call a doctor?"
"It's only a cold," she lied.
The day nurse arrived and Jack explained that he'd be out at the plantation. He walked over to the bed and brushed the hair from Audrey's eyes. "I'll be back in a little while, chickee. I want you to rest up so you can go with me tomorrow."
She smiled. "I'm looking forward to it. Go on, Jackie boy. Get out of here. The sooner you talk to Mary, the sooner I can see this plantation of yours."
There was a line at the front desk, so he waited until the clerk was free. The woman seemed startled when he asked to see the manager, but he assured her there wasn't a problem. He simply wanted to discuss something of a private nature. After the manager escorted him into his office, he explained about Audrey's condition, and left the name and telephone number for a hospital and doctor to be called in case of an emergency. He told the manager that he'd be back in a couple of hours, and that a nurse was on duty in Audrey's room.
His hands felt sweaty against the leather-wrapped steering wheel and he realized that he was nervous. So much depended on what happened in the next hour or two. To occupy his mind, he rehearsed what he planned to say to Mary as he negotiated the narrow bayou roads. When the plantation came into view, sweat poured down his face and his heart started to pound.
Portions of the house appeared new. Evidently restoration had begun. He parked the car on the gravel area at the side, and walked to the front, expecting to find construction workers. All he saw was empty scaffolding.
A fresh coat of paint that didn't quite match captured his attention. That was strange. Why would workers paint a section of the front with an unmatched color? An uneasy feeling settled over him. Something was wrong. He hurried forward and pounded on the door.
"Who's there?" a familiar voice called.
Mary! She was okay! "It's Jack."
"Jack?" The door opened slightly and Mary peered across the safety chain, gun in hand. "Oh my God, I'm so glad to see you. What are you doing here?"
His eyes widened as he stared down the barrel. "I could ask you the same thing," he said. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"
The chain rattled and the door swung open. She took one look at him and thew herself into his arms. He held her close for several minutes, then carefully pried the gun from her fingers and placed it on a nearby table. "What's going on?"
She didn't answer and pressed her face deeper into his shoulder. He lifted her chin and his lips met hers in a tender embrace. His hand caressed her face, hair, neck. Their lips met again, this time in a deep kiss that fanned the flames of desire into a blazing inferno.
Jack's fingers freed her shirt from the confines of her jeans and his hands caressed her abdomen in a circular motion. She moved closer, molding every curve of her body into his. Muttering softly, he kicked the door shut, scooped her into his arms, and carried her into the drawing room.
As he laid her gently on the couch and lay down next to her, she tugged his shirt from his pants and undid the buttons. Returning kiss for kiss, she pulled his shirt off, and the tips of her fingers lightly caressed his rib cage, chest, and back.
He pressed her hands firmly against his skin and slowly unbuttoned the top of her jeans.
Her heart raced as his kisses seared a trail across her bare shoulders, moving downward. She pulled him closer, wanting to feel the warmth of his body against hers.
"My God, you feel good," he whispered, crushing her to him.
The incessant ring of the doorbell blared behind them, and she groaned in response. "Jack, there's someone at the door."
"Don't answer it," he muttered thickly, his voice infused with desire.
She pushed against him. "I have to. What if it's the sheriff? If I don't answer, he'll come in. Jack, please. Let me go." He released her, and she struggled to an upright position, pulling her shirt over her arms as she rose from the couch. The doorbell continued to chime.
She stumbled into the hallway. "Just a minute. I'm coming," she called as she shoved her shirt back into her jeans and ran a hand through her hair. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door a few inches.
A deputy stood on the porch. He tipped his hand to his hat as she peered around the door. "Just
checking to make sure you're okay, ma'am. I saw a strange car in the drive and thought I'd check it out."
She summoned a grateful smile. "Thank you, deputy. Sorry to keep you waiting. I almost didn't hear the doorbell because I working upstairs," she lied. "Everything's fine. The car belongs to a friend of mine. I appreciate your stopping by."
He scratched his forehead. "Well, I knew you've been having some trouble lately, and I just wanted to make sure. If everything's okay, I'll be on my way."
"Everything's fine. Thanks again," she called as he turned and walked away. Moments later, his car rumbled down the drive. Her legs suddenly felt like rubber and she leaned against the doorframe for support.
Jack appeared in the doorway of the drawing room. He took one look at her pale face, walked over to where she stood, and placed an arm around her shoulders. "You look like you're about to fall down. Come back to the drawing room."
She stared at him, confused at his change in attitude.
He shook his head and smiled. "Don't worry, I'm not going to pounce on you. The heat of the moment's passed."
She let him guide her over to the couch. "Jack, I can't tell you how sorry I am. I don't usually behave like that. I'm sorry."
He poured two drinks and handed her one. "Don't worry about it. I think we both know what would've happened if the doorbell hadn't rung. We need to talk about it, but now's not the time."
She smiled and sipped her whisky, unsure of what to say next.
"Why don't you tell me what's been going on?" he asked gently as he sat next to her.
Her smile faded. "I'm so glad you're here," she said. "Something terrible's happening."
He leaned forward and clasped one of her hands. "I've been worried sick about you. I practically had to browbeat DeeDee to find out where you were."
She explained about Elizavon buying the house and the problems she'd had with workers. "The men are all gone and I can't get anybody else to do the work," she said. "Elizavon's furious and hired a private investigator to find out who's behind this mess. He's already been out here twice, checking on the damage." She rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm so afraid she'll make me leave before I find out what happened to Magdalene." Her voice wavered. "The nightmares have started up again, but this time they're worse. If I don't find out what happened, I'll go crazy."
He squeezed her against him. "I never want to lose you, Mary."
She caressed the side of his face with her hand. "I don't want to lose you, either. We've got to find out what happened in this house. I know the answer's here, but I haven't found it."
"Don't worry, Mary. I'm here now. I'll help you."
Startled, she raised her head and looked into his eyes. "Where's Audrey? You didn't leave her alone in New York, did you?"
He shook his head. "She's at the hotel."
"The hotel? I thought she's too sick to travel."
A look of pain passed across his face, and he stood up. "She is, but she came anyway." He rubbed his hands down the sides of his face. "There's something I need to ask you, Mary. For Audrey."
"What is it?"
"She wants to come out to the plantation." He knelt beside her and held one of her hands in his. "The doctor gave her less than a month to live. She's in terrible shape, but insisted on seeing the house. I know it's a lot to ask, but could you find it in your heart to let her come and stay? Even if it's only for one night. She really wants to see the plantation before...before she dies. Please, Mary. I promise, I'll never ask anything again."
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Oh, Jack, I'm so sorry. Of course she can come. I didn't tell you earlier because I had to find a way to convince Elizavon to let me stay. You're both welcome as long as I'm here."
He held her close, grateful for the compassion she offered. The promise of her love wrapped around him like an invisible cloak, shielding him from anguish and pain. For the first time in months, he felt at peace.
Sometime later she stirred in his arms and he released her. He realized then that they would never be complete without each other. The bond between them was too strong.
Keeping her back to him, she moved over to the fireplace and traced the carvings with her fingers. "There's something I need to tell you before you bring Audrey down here. I didn't mention it before, because I didn't want to worry you. But since Audrey's coming, it might make a difference." She turned to face him, then took a deep breath. "The last couple of nights I've had prowlers. They've been here several times, but the sheriff hasn't been able to catch them. I think it has something to do with what's been happening with the workers."
His smile turned to a frown. "You should have told me, Mary. Get your coat. You can come with me to get Audrey. I'm not leaving you alone in this house, especially after what you just told me."
She placed her hand on his arm. "Are you sure you want to stay? What if they come back?"
He picked up DeeDee's gun and put it in his jacket. "Don't worry, Mary. From now on, they'll have to deal with me."
Chapter 35
Nicole pretended not to see Francois as he entered the bank. He'd outlasted his usefulness, and she had no intention of wasting any more time on the insignificant little twerp.
He stopped directly in front of her. "Nicole, my dear. You're as beautiful as ever."
She favored him with a cursory smile. "Francois, I didn't see you come in," she lied. "How are you?"
"Absolutely wonderful. I've sold two more houses this week. If this keeps up, I'll have enough money to steal you away from that husband of yours."
When Hell freezes over. She made a point of removing her car keys from her purse. "I hate to be rude, but I'm late for an appointment."
He placed a detaining hand on her arm. "I have some interesting news for you."
"I'm afraid it'll have to wait. I have to go."
"Don't you want to know who's living at the plantation?"
Why should she care? Unless... "Perhaps I can spare a moment."
He lowered his voice and waved her over to the writing table in the center of the bank. "Remember the female curator who did the inventory? Well, she's back. Guess what? Turns out, the woman who bought the plantation is her aunt."
Red-hot anger seared through her. That little bitch. She inhaled deeply, unwilling to let Francois know his news upset her, and steeled her face into a bored smile. "That's nice. How fortunate for her to have a wealthy aunt." She pulled away from his grasp. "Do let's get together for lunch soon."
Blind fury engulfed her as she walked down the steps toward her car. Of all the dirty, rotten little tramps. That bitch must be working for the old woman, scouting out business prospects. Well, she'd show them a thing or two. She'd fix it so they never restored that plantation.
Nicole climbed into her Mercedes®, slammed the door, and sped down the street. As she passed the hotel, she spotted Mary and a man standing on the corner. Her rage boiled over. She slammed on her brakes, made a quick right turn, and circled the block. Car horns blared behind her as she slowed her speed, trying to recognize the man with her.
It was the other curator! She watched through narrowed eyes as Mary and Jack laughed, then stepped off the curb. They were reason for all Philippe's problems. Them and that rich old bitch who bought the house. How dare they laugh about buying the plantation! Something inside snapped and she increased the pressure on the accelerator.
The Mercedes® lurched forward, but she missed them because Jack pulled Mary back onto the safety of the curb just as her car careened past. Jack's irate screams rang out behind as she drove away. An intense desire for revenge overwhelmed her, and she couldn't stop thinking about them. By the time she pulled into her drive, she'd moved beyond rational thought. Revenge was no longer good enough. She wanted them dead.
She remained seated in her car for several minutes, thinking of ways to end their miserable existence. Perhaps Philippe could have one of his thugs cut them up and feed them to the alligators. No, that was too easy. They nee
ded to suffer. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax.
The answer came to her in an instant. A fire! That would solve all her problems. If she set the plantation on fire, she could get rid of both of them, plus that horrid old house in one strike. But...she'd have to make it look like an accident.
She'd need something to start it. Gasoline? No, that was too obvious. It had to be something else. Kerosene! That should work. Everybody used kerosene in hurricane lamps, and it would be easy to make it look like an accident. A little spill here, another one there, and voila, she had her fire. She could even buy a couple cans at the supply store and say they were for winter storm preparations. Nobody would be suspicious. People bought kerosene for lanterns all the time. It really was a brilliant plan.
Smiling grimly, she walked up the steps to the front door. The maid greeted her in the hallway and informed her that Philippe and another gentleman requested her presence in the drawing room. She ignored the request and started up the stairs. Behind her, a door opened and Philippe's voice called out, "Nicole, there's someone here to see you. Could you please come down?"
She scowled. "I'm tired. Can't you tell whoever it is to come back tomorrow?"
He climbed the stairs and lowered his voice. "It's a private investigator. Miss Phelps hired him. He wants to ask you a few questions about some problems she's had at the plantation."
A private investigator? She descended the stairs, pausing in front of the mirror. Her lips curved into a self–satisfied smile. As usual, her hair and makeup were perfect. She gazed at her reflection and schooled her face into a demure expression. She'd simply handle this investigator the same way she did every other man: dazzle him with her charm until he forgot why he came.
She followed Philippe into the drawing room and held out her hand. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Nicole Martine. I believe Philippe said you wanted to ask me about a problem at the plantation?"
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