by Leger, Lori
“Shit,” he muttered as his land line began to ring. He walked into his bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, still unmade and rumpled from his and Tiffany’s hours of lovemaking.
He saw Mike Harper’s name and number on the caller ID window and answered with trepidation. “McAllister here and before you say a word, the asshole just called and basically told me the shit was about to hit the fan.”
“We’ve got trouble, buddy—big trouble,” Mike said.
“Lay it out, Mike.”
“Can you come to the police station so I can fill you in?”
Red put his free hand on the back of his neck. “Come on Harper, don’t make me wait. Just tell me what the hell’s going on.” He heard the man that he respected take a deep breath and release it slowly. Red closed his eyes and waited for the next link in his chain to weigh him down.
“They found some kind of timing device and a detonator at the origin of the fire, bro. It was in your office. And, that means—”
“That means my alibi is useless, and I’m still the number one suspect,” Red finished for him.
“Uh, yeah—along with a few other things.”
“What other things?
“We got two phone calls this morning, Red. One from the parents of Angelique Baptiste saying their daughter has been missing since Saturday night. The second was from an anonymous caller, a man saying he knows the woman who was killed in the club. He claims she told him she was pregnant—with your child.” Mike released a sigh. “The coroner’s report came in not five minutes ago confirming the pregnancy.”
Red was too shocked to speak. He sat there, feeling as though the earth were crumbling beneath his feet. He vaguely heard Mike calling his name and finally got the presence of mind to speak. “It’s not true, Mike. I never met her.”
“I believe you, Red, but that phone call, along with the fact that everyone in the club saw you good and pissed at Ms. Baptiste. Well, I’m sorry, but we have to bring you in.”
Red rubbed his face roughly. “I know,” he said. “I’ll be there in an hour and a half or so.” More to himself than anyone else, he added, “But I have to tell Doc, first.”
Tiffany came out of surgery at ten forty-five, feeling pleased with the routine arthroscopic cartilage repair. She turned as she heard a technician call her name.
“Dr. LeBlanc, someone is waiting to see you at the nurse’s station.”
“Thanks Shawna,” she said, walking quickly in that direction.
She beamed when she saw Red leaning up against the wall, but as she got closer, she could see the glum expression on his face. He pushed off from the wall and walked toward her.
“Hey Tiff, is there some place we can go to talk?”
She pointed toward the doctor’s lounge. “Sure Babe, this way. What’s up?”
He grabbed on to her upper arm and pulled her in the direction she’d pointed to, but remained silent.
“Red, you’re scaring me.” Tiffany gasped, trying to keep up with his long strides.
“Where are we going?” he asked brusquely.
“Through those doors.”
Red pushed through the double doors of the lounge. As soon as they entered the room he released her and walked to the window.
“What’s happened?”
“Everything’s a bust, Doc. They found a detonator in my office, rigged with a timer, and that means the alibi is useless.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. What else has happened?”
“I can’t marry you.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s happened?”
He spun away from her and ran his hands through his hair. “We moved too fast, that’s what happened.”
She pulled her hair from its ponytail prison, frustrated at not getting any answers. “Damn it, Red, stop being stupid and tell me what happened.”
He turned to face her. “I don’t want to marry you.”
The message didn’t affect Tiffany nearly as much as the dead pan tone he used to deliver it—cold as ice. She felt as if he’d slapped her in the face. “Red, we’ll work through whatev—”
“Nobody has seen Angelique since Saturday night, and everyone in the club saw me angry enough to kill her that night. It doesn’t look good.”
“I know you didn’t have anything to do with that. Don’t do this, Red. Let me be there for you,” she pleaded.
“There’s more. The woman who died in the club was pregnant and an anonymous caller said the baby was mine.”
Tiffany could feel the blood leaving her face. “Was it?”
“No, but that won’t stop people from believing it.”
“It stops me from believing it, and that’s all that matters, Red.” She watched him carefully, knowing he was doing this to protect her, praying he’d stop and instead accept the support she offered. He took a deep breath and she tensed, knowing in her gut he wouldn’t do that.
“I don’t want you, Tiffany. It was fun, but that’s all it was. I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwi—”
“Cut the crap, Red!” she barked. “You weren’t the only one to graduate Summa Cum Laude. Only difference is that I didn’t have a mother who was proud enough to shout it from the mountain tops. So don’t think you can pull off that pitifully lacking performance with me. I know the tru—”
“You don’t know a damn thing.”
“I know the two most important things in this world—in my world. I know you’re crazy in love with me, and I know you’re incapable of murder.” She saw the battle raging within him and felt a sudden urge to slap some sense into him, knowing he only did this for her, the selfless bastard. She watched his jaw work furiously as he prepared himself to speak.
“Yeah, Doc—and the jails are full of innocent men.” He pressed his palms over his eyes. “Look, I can’t worry about myself and you too. I’ve got to go turn myself in if I want to avoid the humiliation of being arrested in a public place.” He turned toward the door. “It was nice knowing you, Doc.”
“Nice knowing you?” Her voice rose with hysteria. “Red, you’ve known me, biblically speaking, three times in the last twelve hours—without a condom—remember?”
He strengthened his resolve and turned to her, knowing what he had to do. “It was good, too. Thanks for that, by the way.” He turned, thinking how ashamed his parents would be if they knew how he was treating her. Thank God they didn’t have to find out. He’d only called Jackson and Giselle to be witnesses for the civil ceremony and had already informed them both that it couldn’t happen. He walked to the door, stopped dead in his tracks at her next statement.
“You need to call your parents before they leave Gardiner.”
He turned slowly toward her. “What do you mean?”
“I wanted to surprise you, so I invited them to the ceremony. I wanted us both to have family there,” she said, lamely.
Both? “Who else did you invite to the ceremony?” He dreaded the answer.
“Drake.”
He let his head fall forward, heavy with defeat. “I’ll call my family—you call yours. I’m sorry, Doc. I’ve got to go.” He turned and left, leaving Tiffany alone in the room.
Red climbed into his truck and called his parents, thanking God they hadn’t left Gardiner yet. He filled them in on recent developments, and his mother seemed to understand his reasons for calling off the wedding. The fact that he’d put an end to his relationship with Tiffany drew immediate disapproval from his tiny matriarch.
“Oh Red, that’s just stupid. That girl cherishes you. Don’t toss her willingness to be there for you like last week’s paper.”
“I’m sorry, Mom, but it has to be this way. Tiffany has had to jump obstacles all her life to get where she is. I’ll be damned if a relationship with me is going to be the one thing to trip her up now.”
“I still don’t agree but you know we both love you and we’re here for you, Son.”
Red spoke to his dad for a bit before disconnecting. He pressed his hand to his chest
, recalling one of his grandmother’s old sayings when she felt sad about something. I feel ti peu, a little, sick to my stomach, but beaucoup, a lot, sick at heart.
He gave himself several minutes to get over feeling like a scumbag before calling Mike Harper. “Hey buddy, I just wanted to let you know that I’m on my way in to the station.”
“Thanks Red, I’ll be here. Oh, I ran a trace on your phone lines. Those calls have all been made from cheap cell phones. All disposable, all untraceable. We’re trying to track down who bought them, but I don’t have much faith that we’ll find anything. He probably picked them up from different places like 7-Elevens and Quick Shops and paid cash.”
“Yeah, I figured that would be a dead end. That son of a bitch was right about one thing. Life, as I knew it, is over.”
“Hey, don’t give up on us. You have friends over here.”
Red grunted low in his throat. “That doesn’t mean you won’t throw my ass in jail if you have to.”
“Well, yeah, if it comes down to that, we will. We’ll also bust our ass trying to catch the SOB that’s setting you up. Have a little faith, Red. That girl of yours is worth it, don’t you think?”
Red’s silence must have spoken volumes to the seasoned detective.
“You didn’t do anything stupid like break it off with Dr. LeBlanc, did you?”
Red kept his mouth shut.
“Oh man, for somebody so smart, you sure are a dumb bastard. Are you out of your mind? Women like that don’t come along every day, you dumb Scottish prick.”
“Hey, watch the name calling,” Red growled. “Do I call you a stupid Half Breed? Besides, what the hell was I supposed to do? Let her pine away for me while I rot in jail? That’s worse than the shit she had before.”
“You can start by not being so damned dramatic. We’ll catch this guy, Red. Then you can sail off into the sunset with the good doctor.”
Red wiped his face with one hand. “Hmph. After the way I just left her, she may never speak to me again.”
“Really? Well if that’s the case, maybe I need to buy myself a big old boat.”
“Shut up, you half-breed, scum bag, son of a bitch!” He frowned at his friend’s guffaw of laughter.
“See ya, McAllister.”
Tiffany shuffled into the doctor’s lounge after her last surgery and collapsed on the sofa, feeling bone tired, despite the fantastic night of sleep she’d experienced in Red’s arms. Or had that been a dream? So much had happened since then. Last night seemed too far away, or removed, as though the memory of it was like watching a scene in a movie about someone else’s life. When she thought her day couldn’t get any worse, Tanner sauntered in the room. She groaned and stretched out on the couch, all while thanking God she hadn’t spoken of the wedding plans to anyone here at the hospital.
Tanner stood over her. “You feeling all right, Tiff?”
“I’m great. What do you want?”
“I—uh—heard the news.”
Tiffany tensed. “What news?” She shifted her gaze to the back of the couch.
“They’re holding Scott McAllister for suspicion of murder, arson, and possible involvement in the disappearance of someone named Angelique Baptiste.”
She turned to face him again. “So, you came here to gloat?”
He sat next to her on the edge of the couch. “No, and despite my dislike of Red, I know he’s incapable of doing any of those things.”
Tiffany remained silent, knowing if she opened her mouth now, the flood gates would open. She would not humiliate herself by crying in front of Tanner or any other member of this staff.
“I want you to know I’m here for you. If there’s anything at all you need, just ask.”
“Thank you, but I’m fine.”
“Seriously. You don’t look fine. You look like you’re miserable.”
“Well, you ought to know what that looks like. I spent five years that way with you.”
“But you’re with McAllister now, and you’re still miserable. Go figure.”
She pinned him with an icy glare. “Is there a point to this conversation?”
“Frankly, I’m a little surprised that you’re not with him at the police station to show the world you’re standing by your man.”
“Shut up, Tanner,” she seethed. “I’m in no mood for any of your crap.”
“Tiffany. I didn’t mean it like that.”
She pushed him off the couch and stood up suddenly, angry that her ex had the cajones to confront her about this. “How the hell did you mean it? You said you weren’t here to gloat, but here you are, doing just that!”
He stepped closer. “Tiff, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please let me help you,” he said. “What can I do to help? Is there someone I can call for you? Drake, maybe?”
“You want to help, Tanner? Be a friend.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I am. I will be.”
Slowly, she relaxed. Maybe they could be friends. “He didn’t do this.”
“Shh … Don’t think about that right now.” He pulled her gently to him. “Even if they prove otherwise, I still love you. I’ll always love you.”
She stiffened, seeing this for what it was and pushed away from him. “Get away from me,” she hissed. “You know, even if I don’t end up with Red, I still won’t go crawling back to you. I’m done with that life and I’m done with men who don’t want me.” She turned her back, leaving him alone in the lounge.
She waited anxiously for the internet browser screen to appear then pulled up the website of one of the Lafayette news stations. Every day she’d kept tabs on the story of the burning of Red’s club. The first day they’d reported the club owner was not a suspect in any investigation of arson. It relieved her, hearing he had an alibi. The second day she read about the woman’s body found in the rubble, and despite turning her skin cold and clammy, it still gave no word of him being a suspect.
The real horror had begun the day she’d about the timing device that negated his alibi, the pregnant woman, her cause of death being a broken neck, as well as the tip from the anonymous caller claiming Red was the father.
“Anonymous, my ass.” She knew damn well who the caller had been. Every day for a week, she’d pulled up the station’s website, praying to read they’d found the real murderer/arsonist. Here it was, seven days later, and the police were still no closer to the truth.
Angelique released an exhausted sigh and sat back against the chair, wondering how she’d gotten herself involved in something like this. Her anger and humiliation at being thrown out of the club, rejected by the only decent man she knew other than her father, and she’d let it happen. He had met her at her car. He had said all the right things to soothe her, to repair her damaged ego: “Of course you aren’t to blame. After all these years you had every right to think there should be something more…Red used you then threw you aside for another woman. A beautiful woman like you doesn’t deserve to be treated that way. What you need is a real man.”
Cher bon Dieu! She’d thought she’d found herself one that night.
Just thinking about the things she’d done with him, things she’d never done before in her life, made her skin heat. She’d had sex with him out at the back of the building, up against the rough exterior surface of the club. She was tall, nearly six foot, and by no means skinny, but he’d handled her as easily as if she were a rag doll. The man had definitely been talented in the area of pleasing a woman and he was most definitely well equipped. She had never had pleasure like that before.
Looking back on it now, she knew she’d been played, that every word he’d spoken was done with the sole purpose of taking advantage of her emotional insecurity at the time. That alone, was enough to shame her.
What she’d discovered about him later did more than shame her. It terrified her, enough to disappear without a trace. That man had skills above and beyond the norm of the average Joe, she was sure of it. She’d seen several tattoos on him, some of the
m military in nature, she was sure of that, too. She also remembered seeing one in particular, out of the ordinary and somehow familiar. Try as she might, she’d failed at recalling where she’d seen it.
After their sexual encounter in back of the building, he’d held her close, asked her if she wanted to get back at Red, and her pride had overtaken good sense.
Once she’d agreed to meet him at the club after closing time, she’d driven around to clear her head and eventually reason had prevailed. She realized it was her own fault Red had thrown her out of the club.
After closing time, she’d gone back there, but only to tell the man she’d changed her mind. She entered the quiet club through the unlocked side door and heard an angry confrontation between him and a woman—his girlfriend as it turned out. The things she’d heard him say had made her blood run cold and scared her enough to make her leave town without a word to anyone—especially her parents.
Angelique laid her head on the desk, wondering what she could do to help Red out of this mess. She picked up the phone and dialed his cell number, but it was turned off. She called information for his new listing in Lake Coburn and jotted down the number given to her. She dialed it carefully and waited for someone to answer. Again, with no luck. She thought about calling the Lafayette Police Department, but what if he had friends there? She couldn’t risk it, not yet, anyway.
Tiffany moved mechanically through her surgeries during the next week. She was a perfectionist when it came to her skills, and as far as the situation with Red was concerned, that changed nothing. Every cut, every suture was performed with precision. Every patient seen to with her usual care and expertise, but the harder she tried to act like nothing was wrong, the worse her heart ached. She overheard the nurses whispering that something was missing, her usual spark was gone.
Again, Tanner walked in on her while she was seated in the doctor’s lounge sipping a cup of hot chamomile tea. He walked over and stood in front of her, effectively blocking her view of the wall hung television screen.
“Move,” she said.
“I want to talk to you about something, Tiff.”
“Does it pertain to work?”