Night Game (GhostWalkers #3)(76)
Author: Christine Feehan

“If more girls were missing we’d know about them.”

“Why would you? My guess is, they don’t usually grab women close to home. The first girl was probably taken because her voice triggered the need and whoever is the ringleader couldn’t resist.”

“And then Joy did the same thing.” Gator shoved his hand through his hair in agitation. “You think the old man knows?”

“How could he not? His son. His driver.”

“We could be wrong about this, Flame. We have to go slow and make sure. Parsons has a lot of political contacts. If we make a mistake, we could be in trouble. James Parsons could just be a common garden-variety sleaze bag. I don’t see him as the type of man to be involved in a crime of this magnitude.”

“I agree. But he wants to feel important. And he’d love to put one over on his father, if I’m any judge of people. He’s a spoiled kid who wants his own way. The driver is the brains. And he drives Emanuel Parsons everywhere. So he probably knows every private thing in their lives. If he could get James on camera, drugging and raping a woman, what do you think Daddy would do to protect his son?”

Gator shook his head. “This is a big jump, Flame.”

“You weren’t in that car. I know that was Joy’s earring.”

“And James Parsons would say that she was his girlfriend and they had lots of sex in the backseat of the car. Or he could just say she rode in the car.”

“Well, maybe we should go to your grandmother’s house and play these discs. I have a firm belief that slime-bags hang out together. There’s a reason Emanuel Parsons is visiting Saunders.”

“He’s investigating him for laundering money.”

“That’s the official version. What’s the real one? Why go to his house late at night? There was no party, no social event going on. I’ve thought a lot about that night. I was distracted knowing you were there, but Parsons didn’t go for dinner. Saunders was in his ivory tower working late. No one else came. It wasn’t a let’s-get-together-for-drinks atmosphere and Saunders found out before Parsons left that the money was missing. I heard the guards talking about the robbery, so whatever business he had with Saunders that night involved whatever was in the safe.”

They looked at each other. “The discs,” he said.

She nodded. “It has to be. He couldn’t have opened the safe for papers because there weren’t any papers, I would have taken them. And why would Saunders be paying Parsons unless he was paying him off, which I’ll admit is a possibility.”

Gator shook his head. “Unlikely. Saunders is a killer, plain and simple. When something, or someone is in his way, the first thing he thinks about is removal.”

Flame went very still, one hand going defensively to her throat. “Like Burrell,” she whispered. “I gave Burrell the money to pay off his loan. He called Saunders and was going to meet him to give him the check.”

There was a small silence. Flame pressed her fingers against her eyes. “Saunders probably didn’t show at the meeting and his men were waiting in the swamp to kill Burrell. I thought they were there for me. How could I have missed that? Oh, God, Raoul, I got him killed by giving him the money for his last payment. He would have been better off losing the money. He’d have his life his houseboat and he’d be sitting on the river smoking his pipe and laughing with his friends. Instead he’s Saunders’s lesson to others not to cross him.”

“If Saunders had him killed, cher, you had nothing to do with that decision.”

“I recognized one of Saunders’s men in the swamp before the others came. I’d seen him at the back of Saunders’s property. He brings in the women for Saunders.”

Raoul retrieved the discs from the duffel bag as she swept up the photographs and stuffed them back in the envelope.

“Let’s go.”

Flame’s breath caught in her throat as she observed the stark, grim lines etched in his face. There were times looking at him, like now, that he was intimidating. She followed him out to the airboat, placing her feet carefully on the undulating boards of the pier. She reached out to rub his arm in a soothing gesture.

“Remember when you told me about losing control. You didn’t tell me everything, did you?”

“Why would you suddenly think that?”

“Because the pier nearly shook apart just now. What else happened, Raoul?”

He glanced at her as he helped her on board. “You don’t want to know.” As she brushed up against him he felt the knife concealed along her rib cage. Instant heat spread through him. He caught her arm on the pretense of steadying her and inhaled her scent.

“Of course I want to know. It’s what’s made you who you are.”

“Well I’m not telling you. I can’t afford to lose you. Maybe when you’re eighty, so if you want to find out. you’ll have to stick with me that long.”

“I made a few mistakes.”

“Drop it, Flame. Ask me anything else, but leave that alone.”

She leaned into him, her hand cupping the side of his face, her eyes staring into his. “You’re a good man, Raoul. Whatever happened, you’re a good man. I’ve seen evil and I know the difference.”

He kissed her because he had to. It was a need. An obsession. It was a claim. His mouth descended on hers, his tongue demanding entrance and the moment she opened for him, he swept inside, taking control. He loved the taste of her and he loved the feel of her soft, silky skin. Her mouth was hot and addicting, so that he didn’t, couldn’t stop. His arm swept around her waist and dragged her closer. Her arm bumped his chest and she flinched, Gator pulled back with a sigh of regret.

“I love your mouth.”

She smiled at him. “I would never have noticed. I take it you’re driving.”

“I have two hands.”

The airboat skimmed over the water for several minutes, birds rising into the air, shrieking in annoyance. He deliberately maneuvered the boat close to the shore so she could see the alligators sliding into the water and the turtles sunning themselves This was his home, had been a good portion of his life. “When I was a young boy, we lived in the cabin. All of us. Grand-mere and my three brothers. We fished mostly and Nonny did quiltin’ and the like to get by. We were happy, cher. We didn’t know were poor. And at school, if any of the kids teased us about our raggedy clothes, we’d just beat ‘em up. It was a good time.”