She Hates Me Not: A Richer in Love Romance (16 page)

A
ll through lunch Kip couldn’t stop grinning.  What began as a day fraught with guilt and then dread was now filled with the finest joy.

No artificial high had ever compared, and Kip harbored no fears it might fade.  The effect of Lou’s presence wasn’t false or fleeting.  She was all potential and freshness, an everlasting today and tomorrow.

As they strolled along the Avon’s south bank, Kip wished he could stop time.  Yannick arrived in an hour, and then he wouldn’t see Lou until Saturday.  He imagined the routes of their disparate lives.  While Lou drifted in relative stillness, Kip would reenter London’s rush.

But not permanently.  Lou could call him if she needed something, and Kip could find her whenever she did.

The Evangeline was moored farther downstream than the other canal boats.  Afternoon sunshine touched its front deck, but an oak tree shaded the rest.  Distance and foliage brought some privacy to an otherwise bustling river.  Kip wished it weren’t the case.  He was far more likely to behave when others were about.

While a tryst wasn’t in his foremost thoughts, it did linger at the back.  Kip didn’t want to sleep with Lou.  He wanted to savor her, to lose himself in the pleasure of knowing her fully.  Again, the relentless virtue of patience reared its ugly head.

There was only one sure way, Kip guessed, to know Lou so completely.  As they neared the oak tree, he slowed.  “I was wondering, Captain Lou, if I could be your first mate?”

Lou squinted like he was up to no good.  The assumption was more than fair.

“The Evangeline isn’t really built for two,” she reminded him.

“We could find a boat that is.”

“What about your mama?”  Lou stopped walking.  “What’s she going to say?”

“I don’t know what game she was playing, but it’s over.  If my mother does the unpardonable and demands that her money be returned, then I’ll settle Amy’s expenses.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Kip.  We barely know each other.”

“All my details can be read on Wikipedia,” he said.  “I know about the skeletons in your cupboard, and you know about mine.”

“Skeletons, sure.  But what about the mice?  Those little things nobody thinks to ask in the beginning?”

“Mice.  Right.”  Kip decided to spin things to his benefit.  “Despite my sometimes-sloppy behavior, I keep my personal spaces tidy.  I don’t drink from the milk bottle.  I have no bothersome hobbies.  And whilst I go a bit mad over football, I do so in the privacy of my own lounge.  Most of the time.”

She reached for his hands.  “I thought you never bragged.”

“This is pleading, not bragging.  And it’s your turn, I believe.”

“Okay.”  Lou smirked while she assembled her reply.  “I hate football – the British kind.  I drink out of the milk carton when I’m running late.  Sometimes I chew a whole pack of gum all at once.  I hate missing Mass on a Sunday.  And even though I love being in the U.K., I don’t want to live in London.”

Kip pretended to be confused.  “Are you attempting to put me off?”

“You’ve been asking for details since we met.  I think that’s the worst of them.”

“Not too terrible, then.  Have you ever eaten alligator?”  When Lou nodded like he ought to have known that, Kip grimaced.  “Does it taste like chicken?”

“More like frog legs to me.  I’ve tasted pretty much everything that lives in a swamp. 
Cocodrie
, frog, squirrel, turtle, snake.  My
Nonc
Jacques prided himself on keeping the Cajun ways alive.  That meant eating some strange étouffées whenever he cooked a meal.  But he drew the line at nutria.”

“Which is?”

“A cross between a beaver and a giant swamp rat.”  Lou snickered at Kip’s all-too-genuine disgust.  “
Mais oui
, you kissed this mouth.”

Kip chuckled.  “Anything else I need to know?”

“Just one more thing, I guess.”  Inhaling, she made him wait. “My first name is Alouette.”

“Alouette,” he repeated.  “That’s lovely, isn’t it?”

Lou offered her bashful smile.  “Until everyone starts singing that horrible song. 
Alouette, gentille alouette. Alouette, je te plumerai…
”

“I know the tune from primary school, but not those words.”

“It’s about plucking the feathers off a lark.  The verses go body part by body part.  It’s gruesome.”

“Leave it to the French.”  Kip wrapped his arms around her waist.  “I probably should tell you – I am contemplating a new hobby.  Counting your freckles.  All of them.”

“That could take days.”

“All the better.”  Kip kissed her gently.  “Permission to come aboard, captain?”

“Permission granted.”  She returned his kiss.  “We’ll board on the aft deck this time.”

Taking his hand, Lou pulled Kip onto the rear portion of the boat.  He dodged a ring of potted herbs to join her at a metal pole shaped like the upper half of the letter Z.

“The Evangeline is semi-traditional which means I’ve got a decent amount of aft space for a thirty-foot boat.  In the winter I cover both decks with tarps made of canvas and plastic.  Keeps the worst of the cold from seeping in.”

“There are other ways to keep warm, you know.”

“So I’ve heard.”  Lou slapped a hand onto the metal pole.  “This is the tiller.  It controls the rudder.  It’s more sensitive than you think.”

“As am I,” Kip added.

Lou responded with her smoky laugh.  “The engine is beneath our feet. It’s not very big, but neither is the Evangeline.  Compared to the boats back home, she moves about as fast as a swamp turtle.”

“So she goes from zero to sixty in…”

“Never,” Lou finished.  “Most canals have a speed limit of four miles per hour.  Get up to six, and someone might file a complaint.”

Kip placed his hand on top of hers.  “Mind if I take her for a spin?”

“
Mais no
.  You have to earn your time at the tiller.”

He cupped her cheek with the other.  “And how does one do that?”

“Practice,” Lou murmured.  “And patience.”

Kip leaned in for their first proper kiss of the day.  From the instant he’d asked her forgiveness, something about Lou had changed.  She still avoided the topic of marriage – and who didn’t after only four days?  She also laughed more easily and made jokes of her own.  Best of all, she would not disappear.

Nor did she hold back when she kissed him.  None of their kisses fell short of brilliant, but this one tempted Kip to beg for more.  Thank God they were out of doors yet again.  Somehow stopping himself, he pressed his forehead to hers.

“Are we still talking about boats?” he asked.

Lou blessed him with her come-hither smile.  “Be honest, Kip.  Were we ever?”

Slipping free, Lou climbed down a pair of steps and opened a wooden door.  Past it was Lou’s bedroom – or the compressed version of one.  A shelf jutted over the lower half of a bed which would barely qualify for a single.  More pictures were scattered among an array of cosmetics.  A folded duvet hid the flat mattress beneath.

As he followed her through, Kip frowned at the cramped space.  He’d slept on airbeds with more padding and in tents with more square footage.  If he laid down on that bed, he couldn’t straighten his legs, and there was no space at the end for his feet.

Two strides more, and he joined Lou in the kitchenette.  She stood dead calm in its middle, her expression perplexed.  After several hushed seconds, Kip asked if she was all right.

“It doesn’t smell like it should in here.”

“What, like petrol or natural gas?”

“No.”  Lou inhaled deeply.  “Like my paw-paw’s tobacco.”

Kip raised his hands to declare his innocence.  “That’s one habit I never acquired.”

Lou pulled two coffee cups from a wooden mug tree by the sink.  As she filled an old fashioned kettle, Kip squeezed around her to lean against the lavatory’s door. 

“Can I ask a rather personal question?”

Lou glanced shrewdly over her shoulder.  “As long as I don’t have to answer.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed.  “How are you going to make a wage whilst you’re hiding?”

“I have a little cash set aside.  Enough to help me limp through.”

“Is this the proverbial rainy day?”

She set the kettle on the hob. “More like a rainy season, but yeah.” 

While Kip knew better than to offer Lou money, her escape plan just didn’t seem feasible – not for the long term. “Would you let me know if things become dire?”

Lou froze with her hand on the knob.  She didn’t look over at Kip.  “If things become dire, I’ll go back to the café.”

“Or you could promote me to first mate.  When I’ve earned it, of course.”

As she shifted toward him, Lou’s reluctance changed to utter shock.  Genuine fear tinged her gobsmacked stare.  When she spoke Kip’s name again, it emerged as little more than a squeak.

Then Kip noticed what Lou had mentioned earlier – the scent of burning hay and sour earth.  Some of his friends smoked, but this odor, while distinct, was also unfamiliar.

Lou’s panic was, for once, aimed not at Kip but past him.  Confused, he pivoted to find the source of the acrid smell.

He met the gaze of a man whose age and height matched his.  Void of emotion, the intruder’s muddy eyes were calculating and cold.  A shelf of oil-black hair sagged above them, contrasting his sun-starved skin.  His thin lips mashed into a pale, flat line.

Impulsive as Kip could be, he didn’t react.  Should he speak?  Swing a punch?  A surge of adrenaline urged him to do something, but uncertainty made him delay.

The intruder’s expression never changed as he lifted a knife by its blade into the air.

Before Kip could raise his arm, the hilt smashed into his left temple.  A clap of pain resonated through his brain like ripples in a pool.  Its force made him collide with the lavatory’s edge, and the last sound he heard was Lou calling his name.

S
houting Kip’s name, Lou backed herself into a corner of the kitchenette.  Her pulse shot to an unmeasurable speed while she clutched her chest with one hand and the countertop with the other.

A thousand times Lou had imagined how she would react when the
voyous
found her.  She’d use the boat’s narrow space to her advantage.  Sprint for an unblocked exit, then blend into a crowd or flee deep into the woods.  No one would hurt her until they knew what she knew – which happened to be absolutely nothing.

But none of those scenarios included Kip Richmond who lay bleeding at her feet.  Lou wanted to check on him, but her muscles had seized, turning her body to stone.

While she didn’t know the man who trespassed on her boat, his birthplace wasn’t hard to guess.  The scent of perique in his tobacco gave it away.  So did the
fleur de lis
patch on his black leather jacket and the alligator tattoo crawling up his bare neck.  Both were common enough on Acadian men, especially after a Bourbon Street bender.

But this intruder didn’t have the look of a good-natured Cajun.  He did have a knife which he pointed at Lou.  Its hilt was crafted from a cypress knee.  Its blade was the length of Lou’s hand.

“You de Aucoin
fille
?”

Lou managed a jittery nod.  Her lips quivered too much to make any words.

“
Ça c’est bon
.”

Dropping to one knee, the man searched all of Kip’s pockets.  His sinewy arms moved with skillful ease, and Lou felt the Acadian’s attention on her even though he didn’t glance up.  He tossed Kip’s wallet onto the white tabletop.  When he found Kip’s smartphone, he stood.

“You stay right der,
cher
.”

The
voyou
headed for the foredeck.  Opening its doors, he flung Kip’s phone like a frisbee into the Avon.

Lou let go of the counter.  This was her chance.  If not for Kip, she could bolt for the stern and then for the Penny Whistle.

But Kip was there.  She would not leave him. 

At least she could turn on the phone Kip had given her.  If she dialed 999, someone might decide to investigate – even if she didn’t speak.  Slowly Lou slid her right hand toward her front pocket.

The Acadian reappeared through the double doors.  Although his expression was unreadable, he surged toward Lou like he’d guessed her plan.  With nimble efficiency he searched all of Lou’s pockets.  He never let go of his knife.

Removing Lou’s phone, he nudged Kip with his boot.  “Who dis
coullion
?”

“
Mon beau
.  Please, can I help him?”

The Acadian’s stare was as lethal as it was calm.  “
Oui
.”

Hurriedly Lou grabbed a couple of dish towels and knelt beside Kip on the floor.  As she pressed one cloth to his forehead, Kip groaned.  Limply he shifted like he meant to rise.  His limbs seemed as rubbery as hers were rigid.

“Slowly,
cher
.” Lou strained to support Kip as he sat up.

Kip propped himself against the bottom half of the couch.  The muscles around his left eye twitched as, erratically, he blinked.  A deep gash ran alongside his left eyebrow and toward his cheekbone.  When Lou lifted the dish towel, the cut welled with blood.

With his left hand, Kip clasped Lou’s arm.  His skin felt unnaturally cool.  “You all right?”

Lou nodded like she meant it.  The tears in her eyes probably weren’t as convincing.

Kip tilted his head to examine the intruder who loomed beside them.  As he did, the Acadian grabbed Lou by the neck.  He tugged her to standing like he’d hooked a fish and jerked it free of the stream.

Lou’s feet tangled in Kip’s legs as she stumbled away.  When she wobbled, squealing, the Acadian braced her.  His fingertips dug into the soft underside of her shoulder while he aimed the blade of his knife at Kip.

“Don’ move,
amoureaux
.  You stay dere, and your
bele
stay safe.  You try anything
canaille
, and ah hurt you worse.”

With her back to Kip, Lou couldn’t see how, or if, he responded.  She gazed past the Acadian’s shoulder to the medal of St. Christopher hanging above the doors.  Protect.  Protect.  It was all she could think to pray.

The Acadian swiveled his head to check the wall.  “You callin’ on dem saints,
cher
?”

She gathered enough breath for one word.  “
Oui
.”

“No need for dat,
gentille
Alouette.  Ahm not gonna pluck you.  Ahm jus’ goan axe you a question, me, and you goan tell me de answer.”

Without releasing his knife, the Acadian cupped one of Lou’s hands in both of his.  He raised it like a suitor competing for her affection.  The knife’s blade hovered beneath her chin.

The Acadian’s closeness, his odor, his unnatural calm made Lou wheeze like the air was too thin.  She hated the leathery feel of his skin.  When metal grazed her neck, Lou shut her eyes.

Protect.  Mon bon Dieu, protect.

“Where yo’ daddy hide de money?”  His voice reminded Lou of sorghum molasses, its smooth texture masking a bitter tang.  “Ahm only making a pass,
cher
.  Ah be goan as soon as you tell me – and not one feather out of place.”

“There is no money.”  Kip’s weak voice barely reached Lou’s ears.

The Acadian’s viperous eyes, and nothing else, skimmed toward Kip.  “
Quoi
?”

“I looked into it,” Kip mumbled.  “Not a penny to be had.”

“
Je le quoi pas
,” he retorted.  “How you know dis?”

“I wanted to find out so we could inform the police.  So Lou could have her life back.”

“De pleece?  De pleece don’ know up from down.”  His piercing gaze returned to Lou.  “If anyone know de truth, it be Alouette.  You goan sing for me, little bird?”

When the knife dug deeper into the flesh beneath her chin, Lou wondered if the
voyou
could hear her heart’s cataclysmic patter.  “My Daddy didn’t leave me money.  I’ll confess the same to any priest.”

“Dat blaspheme if you be lyin’,
cher
.  And you know what happen den.  Da
rougarou
goan hunt you down.  Slice you wit its claws.”

“Whatever money you were hoping to find, I can get it for you.”  Behind Lou, Kip grunted as if he might be trying to stand.  His voice sounded more alert – and more alarmed.  “Tell me the amount, and I’ll arrange for it to be transferred.”

The Acadian kept his attention on Lou.  “
Qui c’est ca
?”

“
Un homme de consequence
,” Lou answered.  “
Et fortune
.”

“How much were you expecting?” Kip asked.

Suspicion compromised the Acadian’s composure.  “Six million dollars.”

“Easily done,” Kip replied.  His words, while sincere, lacked their usual confidence.  “All I ask is that you spread the word that the Aucoin fortune has been found.  Convince all your…associates that it’s been discovered and there’s no more treasure to be had.”

“
Oui
.”  The Acadian lowered his knife.  “Agreed.”

“No,” Lou said.

It was the loudest she’d spoken since the Acadian showed up.  Both men were startled, she could tell.  As much as she appreciated what Kip meant to do, it wouldn’t bring her peace.  Not completely.

“My daddy made some bad choices,” she continued.  “But he wasn’t a bad man.  He loved my mama, and he loved us.”

Drawing nearer, Kip murmured her name.  “If he doesn’t say it, this might keep happening.  Others could come after you unless they know the truth.”

“But it isn’t the truth.”  She kept her eyes on the Acadian while she spoke.  “It’s a lie, Kip.  And you never, ever lie.  Besides, my daddy doesn’t have much honor left.  Let’s preserve what little is there.”

“Of course.  Sorry.  Not thinking.”  Kip still held the dish towel to his forehead.  Blood changed its white fabric to crimson.  He lobbed a wincing smile at the Acadian.  “No need to lie.  Find me a phone, and I’ll get it sorted.”

“Just like dat?” the
voyou
asked.

“Just like that.”  Kip caught Lou’s eye.  “Is this all right?”

Lou wasn’t sure.  If Kip weren’t here, she’d have nothing to offer the Acadian.  He wouldn’t believe her, and she might not walk away.  Maybe Kip, for all his persistence, was more than a man she could love.  Maybe he was God’s answer to a life-saving prayer that Lou hadn’t known to pray.  Miracle number two.

But even though Lou trusted Kip completely, she didn’t trust the Acadian.  He wasn’t a man of honor.  Lou wasn’t sure he was even a man.  Some part of the swamp had seeped into soul, and his nearness made her skin crawl.

“No,” she said again.  “Don’t give him a penny.”

The Acadian’s lifeless eyes narrowed to slits.  “
Quoi
?”

“There is no money,” Lou insisted.  “You’ve been chasing de
fifolet
.”

Even though her heart fluttered, and tension rattled her kneecaps, Lou somehow kept her words steady.  She felt gut-twisting terror, and she felt something else – the deep desire to no longer be afraid.  No matter what choice the Acadian made, Lou could choose to tell the truth.

“You wrong,
cher
.”  The
voyou
lifted his knife.  “Dere’s a fortune here, as you said. If dis
coullion
pay six million for you, den what his family goan pay for him?”

Gasping, Lou balked at the question.  Kip’s family fortune totaled in the billions, and while Lydia Richmond loved to play hardball, Lou guessed that she’d pay any price for her sons.

“Nothing.”  Although Kip sounded calm, annoyance deepened his voice.  “My mother does not negotiate with terrorists.  She practically is one.  You won’t get a penny from her.”

The Acadian smiled like he knew Kip was lying.  “Ah won’t if you don’ ask her.”

“And if I refuse to ask?”  Kip stepped between him and Lou. 

Waving his knife like a conductor’s baton, the Acadian began to sing.  “
Alouette, gentille Alouette
…”

As Kip raised one arm like a shield, he gave Lou a push with the other.  “Run!”

Whirling around, Lou barreled toward the door that led to the aft deck.  Leaving Kip behind was the last thing she wanted to do, even though help was close by.  Lou’s reluctance increased when the sounds of a scuffle – grunts and thumps, a clattering bang – made her hesitate to charge through the open door.

A hand yanked Lou backward – first by the shirt and then by the hair.  An arm hooked her neck, tugging her sideways like a cowboy might wrangle a calf. Just as Lou lost her footing, the Acadian lassoed her waist with his other arm.  He drew her too close, compressing their bodies, with Lou’s back stiff against his front.

Paralyzed and panting, Lou watched Kip struggle to rise from the floor.  He was white as a sheet, and his right forearm bled from a single slice, wide and deep.  Awkwardly he draped himself over the table in a pained and penitent stance.

“Please don’t hurt her,” he begged.

The Acadian’s fingers played in Lou’s hair.  “We goan call yo’ family.  You goan axe for what I say.  And if you don’…”

Lou felt another tug at her scalp.  As the knife blade flashed in her peripheral vision, a whimper escaped her lips.

The Acadian’s right arm jutted forward, a clump of red hair dangling between his thumb and the blade.  “I trow dis
fille
in the river piece by piece.”

“Please.”  The gash by Kip’s eyebrow continued to seep.  “I’ll cooperate.”

When the
voyou
let go of her neck, Lou tipped forward until he gripped her right shoulder and spun her around.  His fingertips burrowed into pressure points near her neck.  His stinking breath made Lou recoil.

“Now, little bird.”  The knife lingered between them.  “What cage we goan put you in?”

The threat didn’t upset Lou as much as she expected.  She’d been living in her own cage for years, one that traveled with her, its bars sculpted from her fears.  Fear of discovery.  Fear of men like the one who defiled her home and threatened what she loved.  And the fear that her father might have done what they believed and stolen money from his own team of thieves.

She no longer feared the
voyou
on her boat, but she was afraid for Kip.  Among them, he was blameless.  He’d made no deals with any devils, and he didn’t deserve to suffer for her daddy’s sins. 

Eyes wide open, Lou prayed for another miracle.  Rescue.  Deliverance.  Sometimes miracles came in threes.  She could certainly use one more.