Cover Me (6 page)

She looked back. Remy was nowhere in sight.

Chapter Nine

Nicole closed the gate and leaned against it. Anxiety clawed at her control. Remy had said he’d be right behind her. So where was he?

Had he gone back for something? Was he facing Lee and a police-issued pistol right now? Had Remy lied about being unarmed and stayed behind to lure Lee into a showdown?

If someone gets shot, please don’t let it be Remy.

Her worries were all for him. How could that possibly be when he was more phantom than reality in her life? He haunted her thoughts and dreams, but the man himself was a mysterious stranger.

But there was no denying the fear that clutched at her heart like spiky pincers. She finally stepped away from the gate and began the long walk back to the truck.

She made one staggering step before
two strong arms wound around her from the back. Panic made her gasp for breath.

“What’s wrong, Nicole? Are you hurt?”

“Remy? You scared me to death. Where were you? Why didn’t you come?”

“I went to the truck like we said.”

She pulled away from his grasp. “You
said
you’d be right behind me.”

“I would have been, but by the time the safe was closed and the fireplace in order,
Lee was already in the house.”

“Did he see you?”

“No. Fortunately, he went straight to the kitchen and then I heard the back door open. I figured he’d grabbed a beer and stepped out onto the deck. I hoped to God you hadn’t waited around, but I figured if you had, he’d have been thrilled that you’d stopped by.”

“He didn’t see me. I ran, like you were supposed to do.”

“I ran—just
in the opposite direction. Once I’d covered my tracks, I opened the bedroom window and jumped out. But don’t worry. I closed it behind me and even tapped the screen back in place. We’re home free—at least for now.”

The fear dimmed enough that her thoughts began to clear. “Do you really have the missing evidence film?”

“I found a DVD that could be it. I’ll have to get back to my truck
and my laptop to know for sure. But that’s not all I found.”

“What else?”

“Let’s start back to the truck and I’ll tell you all about it.” He tugged her around so that they were heading in the opposite direction.

She’d been so upset she hadn’t known her right from her left. It didn’t surprise her. Remy had her world spinning on a new axis, out of control. Taking risks. Deliriously
infatuated.

Except for the danger, she hoped it would never end.

* * *

I
NSTEAD
OF
TRYING
TO
WATCH
the video in the cramped truck, Remy had agreed with Nicole’s suggestion to go back and watch it in Dr. Cantrell’s office. It was after hours. They’d have the place to themselves.

Remy was impressed with the classy setup. Cantrell was obviously a very successful plastic surgeon.

He made a quick pit stop while Nicole started a pot of coffee. By the time she rejoined him in her office, two cups of steaming brew in hand, he had the DVD in the computer and ready to roll.

She pulled a chair up next to his. “I’m almost afraid to look.”

“It shouldn’t be too gory. The missing film was from the outside camera, so it won’t show the body or the murder itself.”

“I mean I’m afraid to look because it might be pictures of Lee winning some award instead of Reggio Sanchez.”

Remy clicked Play. “We’ll soon find out.”

The first shots were of an empty alleyway. A cat cast shadows in the dawn’s first light as it jumped from one trash can to another. Headlights that looked to be from a passing car briefly lit the scene.

A second later, a woman wearing
a black coat and carrying an oversize handbag entered from the right. Her shoulders were slightly stooped, her short hair gray and frizzed.

“Bingo. That’s Jessie Klein,” Remy said.

“How do you know?”

“I did my research.”

Just as she unlocked the back door of the diner, a tall man wearing baggy jeans and a light-colored T-shirt strode into the picture. Tattoos spiraled from
his wrists, ducking beneath his short sleeves before curling up his neck. He needed a shave.

Remy paused the video for a better look. “That’s Reggio Sanchez, a son of a bitch who’s been terrorizing anyone who crosses him for decades.”

“How did Jessie cross him?”

“She didn’t. Her grandson did and she witnessed his murder and named Reggio as the triggerman. She was a reliable eyewitness
who apparently didn’t let Reggio frighten her into keeping quiet.”

“So he made sure she wouldn’t testify,” Nicole said. “And Lee Barnaby got rid of the proof needed to send Reggio to jail for the rest of his life.”

“Revolting, but true.”

Nicole stared into space. “You read about things like this, but you never expect it from a person you know, especially when that person is a charismatic
leader who reeks of success.”

“Greed and power are no respecters of persons.” Remy pushed Play again.

Reggio rushed from behind, put a meaty hand over Jessie’s mouth and shoved her into the restaurant, kicking the door shut behind him. Less than five minutes later, he exited the same door. He had a pistol in his left hand and was shoving a muffin into his mouth with the other. Dark stains,
so wet they were still dripping, covered the front of his shirt.

Nicole covered her eyes as if the images were too much to bear.

“So much for his airtight alibi,” Remy said.

“Hopefully this will finally send the murderous thug to prison,” Nicole said. “But I still have difficulty believing that Lee could be a part of any of that.”

“He’ll get a trial. If a jury agrees with you,
he’ll go free.”

“But if he’s guilty, I don’t want him to go free.” She got up and paced the room. “What else did you find in that safe?”

“Incriminating bank statements from two banks outside the country. And a list of dealers with how much Lee has received from each of them for the past ten years. Drugs are a very lucrative business for the former deputy chief of police, and there’s
no reason to think he has any intention of cleaning up his act now that he’s been promoted to head honcho.”

“So will you just go back to your hotel tonight?”

“Not to the same hotel. Lee’s had someone tailing me since Sunday night. If he realizes the video is gone, he’ll come after me, and I’m taking no chances with the film.”

Nicole walked over and perched on the corner of the desk
near his computer. “Take my car, Remy. I can get a taxi home and back to work in the morning. You can even stay at my place if you like. I have an extra bedroom.”

Spend the night at Nicole’s town house? It was a great offer, the best he’d had in years. But he couldn’t take her up on it for so many reasons he couldn’t begin to count them all. Mostly he didn’t trust himself to deal with sensual
desires he could barely control when he and Nicole were in public.

“I don’t think my staying at your place is a good idea.”

“Then I have another option. Dr. Cantrell and his wife live in Covington, but they keep a pied-à-terre in the French Quarter. I can make a quick phone call and see if it’s available. I know he keeps a key to it in his office.”

“Didn’t you mention they were
good friends with Lee? Under those circumstances, my staying there is not a good idea.”

“I won’t mention your name. I’ll just say you’re a friend of mine. It’s the perfect solution, Remy. My car. The Cantrells’ condo. You’ll be flying far below the radar, especially since Lee has no reason to think I ignored his order not to see you again.”

It did make sense, but... “Are you sure you
want to stick your neck out even further, Nicole?”

“If Lee ever finds out I helped you, my neck will already be on the chopping block. What’s another inch or two?”

“The difference between keeping or losing your head.”

“A moot point. Lee will never know. Help yourself to more coffee, if you like. The pot is just down the hallway in the lounge. I’ll make that call.”

He watched
her walk away and felt an immediate stirring in his groin. She was so damn much like Carlotta that it hurt to look at her.

The sensual sway of her hips. The way her hair danced about her shoulders. Shapely legs. Delectable lips. Gorgeous eyes. She was stunning in every way.

But there was a lot more to her than her looks. She’d proved that today. He could stick around when this was over
and see how hot and high the flames could get.

He wouldn’t. She deserved more than a man who couldn’t look at her without visualizing another woman in his mind. Knowing he’d best keep his mind on the business at hand, he took out his phone and punched in the private phone number of the local head of the FBI. The sooner the video was in his hands, the more confident Remy would feel about Lee’s
impending arrest.

Nicole returned a few minutes later, a smile on her face and a small key ring dangling from her fingers. “It’s all set. I don’t think we should leave your truck in this parking garage, though. I don’t want to cause any trouble for Dr. Cantrell.”

“No, I’ll park in a French Quarter lot and hang out for a while, make sure I’m not followed to the exclusive little pied-à-terre.”

“And I’ll drive straight to their condo and leave my car in their private parking space. I’ll take a taxi home from there. I’ve been to the apartment many times. No one will think it odd to see my car there. But won’t you have to go by your hotel to pick up your things?”

“Nope. I travel light, especially when I’m working a job. I’ve got a change of clothes, a toothbrush and a razor in
the truck.”

“Then how about a sandwich and another cup of coffee before you go? There’s a deli next door that delivers. I’ve used them frequently when working late.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Not the way she was affecting him.

“You have to eat.”

True, but it was another kind of hunger he was fighting now. Still, he didn’t have the heart or the willpower to tell her
no.

She ordered the sandwiches while he poured the coffee. As soon as they settled in comfortable chairs and she opened a new conversation, he knew he should have left.

“The woman you were in love with, the one who died in Katrina—what was she like, Remy?”

There was no real reason not to tell her the truth. He could talk about it now without breaking down. But how would he begin
to describe Carlotta? He was pretty sure saying she was a lot like Nicole would be a major mistake.

He sat back and let his thoughts become words. “Carlotta walked into a room and it was like opening the skies and letting the sunshine free. She made even mundane things exciting. And when she laughed, it was downright hypnotic. There was no way not to laugh with her. She laughed a lot.”

“How did you meet?”

“I took a bullet to my...” No way to say it delicately, so he patted his butt. “Carlotta was the nurse who took care of me in the hospital. From the moment I saw her, I was hooked. Amazingly, she fell for me just as fast.”

“Not so amazing. You have a very seductive way about you.”

“There are lots of people who wouldn’t agree with you.”

“Like Lee.”

“Exactly.”

“How did Carlotta die?”

“I don’t know. That’s one of the things that torments me most. The storm was over. She should have been heading to work about the time the levees were breached. Water reached the rooftops in the area surrounding the hospital where she worked. Knowing Carlotta, I’m sure she died trying to save someone.”

“And you were in jail and couldn’t save her.”

“In jail on trumped-up charges that would never have held. When the jail started to flood, someone unlocked my cell and I walked out.”

“Did the police have her fingerprints?”

He nodded. “All the hospital employees had been fingerprinted. I checked every day for months. No one matching her description or with her fingerprints was ever found.”

“How terrible for you.”

He’d
said enough. He wasn’t looking for pity. There was no point going into the pure hell he’d lived through, searching and refusing to believe Carlotta could be dead.

“Now you know my story,” he said, cutting her off before she could ask more questions. “Tell me about you.”

She shrugged. “There’s not a lot to tell. I’m single, live alone and work for Dr. Cantrell.”

Remy would have pressed
for more had the arrival of the sandwiches not interrupted the conversation. They both became quiet after that. He finished his sandwich quickly and then they walked to their vehicles. He lingered as he opened her door for her. And then he looked into those mesmerizing green eyes and he started to melt.

His lips were touching hers before he could stop himself. She wrapped her arms around
his neck and kissed him back. The need he’d been fighting took over and he got lost in the heat and passion.

His hands splayed her back and he pulled her closer and closer until she was pressed against his erection, his lips still ravishing hers. When she came up for air, his whole body was throbbing.

“Oh, Carlotta.”

Nicole jerked away as if he’d slapped her.

His brain kicked
back in.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Nicole.”

“It’s okay. I understand. Truly, I do.”

But he’d hurt her and that was the last thing he’d wanted to do. Right now all he knew was that he had to leave before he did or said something else they might both regret.

He was falling hard. But was it for Nicole—or was he turning her into Carlotta in his mind?

Chapter Ten

Nicole parked the car and reached across the seat for the journal she’d brought with her to work that morning. Actually, it was more a book than a journal. She’d even named it.

Normally she didn’t carry it around with her, but Remy had inspired so many new emotions and feelings that she’d felt compelled to put them to paper this morning. But when she’d tried to
write, the words wouldn’t come. Now they were echoing through her mind.

She’d never shared her journal with anyone, had never thought she would. But when Remy had asked about her life tonight, she’d found herself wanting to share the pain and the miracles with him.

What better way for him to really understand her than through the journal?

Before she changed her mind, she pulled
a pen and note card from her purse. She jotted a quick message for Remy on the note card and then meticulously poured her heart into the journal.

When she finished, she hurried inside the apartment and set the bound journal and the note on the coffee table for him to find later.

Strangely it was Carlotta she thought of as she let herself out and took the elevator to the ground floor
to hail a taxi. Carlotta had died, leaving a lover to search for her in vain. Nicole had lived, but no lover had ever come searching for her.

* * *

R
EMY
WAS
ALWAYS
A
BIT
of an insomniac, but tonight was worse than usual. He’d slept an hour and then woken. Since then, he’d lain awake, alternately watching the shadows dance across the ceiling and the raindrops splatter against the windowpane.

He’d met with an FBI agent after he’d left Nicole and handed over the DVD. It was now in their hands. Still, he couldn’t shake off the desire the parking-lot kiss had ignited. A mistake in every way, yet he couldn’t get it or Nicole off his mind.

Finally he gave up, stretched his legs over the side of the bed and wiggled into his jeans. He zipped them enough to keep them from dropping
to his ankles and went to the kitchen. The fridge was empty except for some condiments and a few bottles of beer.

He popped the top on a Shiner Bock and walked back to the small living area. Dropping to the sofa, he flicked on the lamp next to him and picked up a leather-bound journal. There was a note clipped to the cover.

You asked about my life, Remy. This is the condensed
version. If you have time to read it, it may help you understand a bit more about who I am and what these past two days have meant to me. Nicole

Obviously she’d left it for him to read when she’d dropped off the car. He opened the binder. “Resurrection from Hell, a Journey of Survival” was written on the first page in perfect script. He turned to the next page and read the opening.

The person I had been died following Katrina. The person I’m becoming was born four days later when I was found, dehydrated, skin parched, my face beaten into a meaty, bloody pulp that had little resemblance to anything human.

So, like Carlotta, Remy and so many others, Nicole’s life had been destroyed by the tragic hurricane and the flooding that followed. No wonder she
hadn’t wanted to talk about it last night.

The journal read like a novel, and Remy became so immersed in it, he didn’t notice when the thunderstorm intensified and the raindrops became sheets of water.

Details flowed. The agony of waking up in a hospital and not knowing who or where she was. The hopelessness she’d felt when no one had come looking for her.

The despair when the police
had told her that her fingerprints were not on file and her dental records were not a match to anyone reported missing after the storm.

When they’d removed the bandages and she’d gotten her first look at her pummeled face with its shattered bones and displaced features, she’d wanted to die. But then Leslie Cantrell had walked into her hospital room and offered her hope.

Dr. and Mrs.
Cantrell wanted to give more than money to the victims of Katrina. They wanted to give of themselves. And give they did. With the blackness of amnesia still blocking all memories of past friends and family from Nicole’s mind, Leslie offered her friendship and emotional support.

Dr. Cantrell offered his expertise. He performed surgery after surgery, all pro bono.

A nurse in the hospital
dubbed the patient Nicole after a redheaded friend of hers. The name stuck.

When Nicole wasn’t recovering in the hospital, she recovered in the Cantrells’ home. They took her in and treated her like a daughter. To Nicole, they would forever be saints.

Thunder rattled the windows and lightning spiked the skies as Remy read the final pages. He was awed by Nicole’s struggles and triumphs.
She was truly amazing.

But she wasn’t Carlotta.

She didn’t have the innocence or the naïveté Carlotta had had back then. She’d lived through hell. But then, he wasn’t the man he’d been eight years ago, either. Heartbreak had left him with an edge and a wariness that he hadn’t possessed as a young cop who thought he had the world by the tail.

The time and date of the last notation
in the diary indicated it had been written tonight—after the kiss. Remy read it hesitantly, not knowing what to expect after his blunder with the names.

For the first time since Katrina, I feel as if my heart is beginning to heal. Today, real excitement bubbled inside me. I took risks. I trusted a man I barely knew. I felt truly alive. No matter what happens after this, my life is
forever changed for the better.

Dr. and Leslie Cantrell brought me back from hell. Remy Comeaux has brought me back to the threshold of love.

Remy closed the journal and carefully laid it back on the table. The storm was kicking up something fierce. But the desire to see Nicole was far more intense.

He knew that going to her now would lead to their making love. He’d never
backed down from a risk where his job was involved.

Maybe it was time he took another chance on love.

* * *

N
ICOLE
WAS
ALREADY
slick with desire when Remy slid between the sheets and joined her in her bed. When his lips took hers, she lost all inhibition. She responded hungrily, her tongue parrying with his, the thrill stealing her breath.

She’d waited so long for this kind
of passion, had feared she’d never know the ecstasy of making love. But now Remy was here and she wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him.

His mouth moved to her breasts. He sucked each nipple in turn while his hand splayed her abdomen. Slowly his fingers trailed lower until they began to explore her most intimate places. She moaned and thrust against him.

“Take me. Please make love to me
all the way.”

He spread her legs then thrust his erection deep inside her. Over and over until the hot core inside her exploded.

“Oh, Remy.”

“No, Nicole. It’s not Remy.”

She jerked awake. A flash of lightning lit the room like neon. Lee Barnaby was standing over her bed.