The Reunion Mission (14 page)

When the little girl tried to scurry after Oreo, Nicole caught the back of Pilar’s pajamas, bringing her up short. “Nope, it’s bedtime.”

Bedtime
was a word Pilar knew, and she poked out her bottom lip in disappointment.

Nicole cast a disgruntled look at Daniel. “And thanks for getting her riled up again after I spent thirty minutes calming her down for bed.”

He spread his hands and gave her a what-did-I-do? look.

She quirked a lopsided grin, taking the edge out of her chastisement.

To redeem himself, Daniel shoved to his feet and clapped his hands together the way his father used to before he’d lay down the law. “C’mon, tadpole. Time to
fais do-do.
”

Pilar continued pouting, and Daniel, using the antique cane he’d found in his
grandmére’
s closet, crossed the room to her. With a fake growl, he wiggled his eyebrows playfully and scooped her under his arm like a football. After a high-pitched squeal that shattered his eardrum, peals of girlish laughter tumbled from Pilar as he toted her back to her bed.

Nicole groaned as she followed them. “She’ll never fall asleep now.”

Daniel dumped Pilar in the pile of pillows and blankets, and her giggles turned his insides to mush. Nicole wasn’t the only one who’d miss Pilar when she went home.

“Now.” He arched one eyebrow in a mock scowl and pointed to the bed. “
Fais do-do.
Go to sleep.” Then, for good measure, he added the Spanish,
“Duérmete.”

He turned to limp out of the room, and hearing scrambling and rustling sheets behind him, he stopped at the door next to Nicole and faced the bed again. Pilar had crawled out of the bed and knelt bedside it, hands folded and head bowed.

He sent a side glance to Nicole, and whispered, “What do you think little girls pray for?”

She smiled at him. “Same thing big girls do. Safety, their family, their dreams. Oh, and to marry Justin Bieber.”

He snorted. “Who?”

Nicole rolled her eyes.

After making the sign of the cross, Pilar crawled back into the covers and pulled the sheet up to her chin. Nicole moved to the side of the bed and kissed the girl’s head. “Good night,
mija.
Sleep well.”

Daniel switched off the light and closed the door behind Nicole. Remembering how they’d passed the evening after Pilar’s bedtime last night, he gave Nicole a hungry glance and murmured, “How fast do you think she’ll fall asleep?”

She stepped close to him, her hand sliding up his chest and a coy smile tugging her lips. “Not fast enough.”

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Nicole had finished straightening the kitchen, and she dropped wearily onto the sofa next to Daniel.

When he opened his arms and patted his chest, she happily accepted the invitation to snuggle against him and rest her head on his shoulder.

“So...I’ve noticed you’ve been using a lot of Cajun French and colloquial phrases this week.” She tipped her head back to gauge his reaction.

He tensed a bit. “That bother you?”

“Not at all. Except that it might confuse Pilar while she’s trying to learn English.” She paused. “And...I don’t recall you using so much French in the past. “

“I didn’t. When I was around anyone except my grandmother, I made a point of not using French and keeping the Cajun accent out of my voice.”

“Why?”

He snorted. “You have to ask?”

“Apparently so.”

He drew a large breath, as if explaining himself were a burden. “You know the stereotypes about Cajuns in Louisiana. We’re uneducated...which in some ways is true. A lot of folks around here, especially the older generations, didn’t bother finishing high school, since they made their living off the land, harvesting oysters, crawfish and shrimp. Hunting alligators for their meat and hides. Raising catfish for market.” He drilled a hard look on her. “But that doesn’t mean we’re stupid.”

“I know that.”

“And yet we’re the butt of Boudreaux jokes around the state.”

She sighed. “As long as there is ignorance and cruelty in the general population, there will be bigoted jokes. And not just about Cajuns.”

“Yeah, well...we’re also seen as backward, since some of the older generation have been slow to embrace modern technology.”

“Or it could be said that they’re trying to preserve traditions passed down for generations. I love the idea that someone values their culture’s history enough to do that.”

“I—” he started, then snapped his mouth shut, apparently unable to find a counter-argument. “Regardless, most people have preconceived, stereotyped ideas about Cajuns. For instance...when I met my cousin’s and your friends on your prom night, your date started calling me Boudreaux as soon as he heard my accent and learned where I was from.”

“Grant Holbrook was a jerk. A fact I learned well enough when he abandoned me and went to prom with your cousin when I wouldn’t leave the kitten to die in the sewage drain.”

Daniel grunted. “Doesn’t say much about my cousin, either. Although, in her defense, she saw the error of her ways and has straightened up in recent years.”

Nicole smoothed a hand over Daniel’s chest. “Last I heard, Grant’s still a jerk.”

“Yeah, well...he did me a favor. He showed me that I needed to be proactive in the way people perceived me. I had to erase the swamp from my voice and be better than the next guy in everything I undertook. I had to try harder, run faster, be smarter, reach higher and never make excuses. I was determined to prove critics wrong and never let an undeserved stigma keep me from achieving my goals.”

Nicole sat up, swinging her feet to the floor, and gave Daniel a narrow-eyed scrutiny. “You know what I think?”

He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head slightly, inviting her to continue.

“I think you’re the one who has a problem with your heritage.”

Daniel scoffed loudly. “Bull.”

“You’re certainly sensitive about it. You assumed the worst five years ago when you heard half of a conversation I had with my father. Your prove-the-critics-wrong philosophy reeks of a personal prejudice at the least and an insecurity about your roots at worst.”

Daniel’s dark eyebrows snapped together. “Wanting to do my best, be the best, doesn’t mean I’m prejudiced,” he growled. “I love my
grandmére
and everything she taught me about life on the bayou.”

“I’m not saying you don’t love your family. But—”

“
But
even my parents recognized that they had to move to another part of the state if they wanted to achieve the goals they had for themselves and for me. Cajun people have always isolated themselves. On purpose—with their language, their location, their traditions, their lifestyle...”

“So do dozens of other cultural groups around the country. The Gullah in South Carolina. The Amish in Pennsylvania and Ohio. Hasidic Jews in New York—”

“All right!” He held up a hand to hush her. “Point taken. But that doesn’t change the fact that being a member of one of those cultures means living with the stereotypes associated with that culture. I chose to stay a step ahead of the stereotypes. I prefer to eliminate any obstacle before it becomes a problem.”

Nicole shook her head and studied him with a heavy heart. “And I find it sad that you saw your heritage as an obstacle rather than a strength.”

“I don’t—” Daniel’s phone chirped, interrupting him, and he checked the screen before answering. “It’s Jake.”

Nicole’s sat forward, anxious to hear what Jake had learned.

“LeCroix.”

She watched Daniel’s expression closely for clues to what Jake had to say.

“Tell me you found the judge.” He jammed his finger in his other ear as if he was having trouble hearing, then glanced up and met her expectant gaze. Answering her unspoken question, he gave a quick nod. “Excellent.” When his forehead creased with consternation, Nicole’s pulse kicked up. Was something wrong?

“No, no. I can’t say that I blame him. Hang on.” Daniel met her gaze. “Get Pilar. The judge wants to talk to her. He needs proof that she is with us and isn’t in danger.”

Of course, the judge would be dubious, need proof of life and his daughter’s well-being before he’d cooperate. Nicole nodded and started down the hall. “I’ll wake her up.”

She walked quietly to the bed where Pilar snoozed peacefully and brushed the hair back from her face. “Pilar,
mija.
Wake up.” Nicole had to jostle the girl and say her name a few more times to rouse her from her slumber. When she had the girl’s attention, she motioned for her to follow. Taking Pilar’s hand, she led the groggy girl into the living room.

Pilar squinted against the light and blinked curiously at Daniel, her expression reflecting apprehension.

Daniel held out the cell phone and smiled his reassurance to Pilar. “Your father wants to talk to you,” he said in flawless Spanish.

“Papi?”
Pilar’s eyes widened, and she snatched the phone from Daniel.
“Papi? Papi!”

Nicole watched the hopefulness in the child’s eyes morph to joy, then Nicole’s eyes filled with tears as Pilar’s puddled with moisture and the child’s small shoulders shook.

She pieced together parts of the conversation as Pilar half laughed, half sobbed to her father. Yes, she was fine, she was safe, she told him. Miss Nicole has taken care of her. She was trying to be brave, she said, her chin trembling, and a tender ache stole Nicole’s breath. Pilar missed him, missed her mother and sister. She sobbed harder now, and Nicole recalled what they’d learned about her mother and sister being murdered in front of her.

Her heart breaking, she wrapped Pilar in a hug that she knew could never take away the horrible memories or replace the family she’d lost.

Pilar sniffed loudly and told her father,
“Te quiero.”
I love you.

She handed the phone back to Daniel, who stroked her head and flashed her another encouraging grin as he raised the phone to his ear. “Jake?”

Pilar buried her face on Nicole’s shoulder. She held Pilar and rubbed the girl’s back while she followed Daniel’s end of the conversation.

“Good enough? Will he trust you?”

The hard lines in his face relaxed a degree, which Nicole took as a good sign.

“Where are you? Do you have a tail?” Daniel shifted his gaze away, clearly concentrating on what Jake was telling him. “How long will it take you to get him out of the country?” He paced a few steps, then turned and limped back toward her. “I just think we need someplace out of the way, neutral ground to make the transfer. Somewhere we know we aren’t being watched.”

Nicole tried to get Daniel’s attention, using hand signals and mouthing,
Why not here?

He dismissed her idea with a shake of his head, then told Jake, “Good idea. I’ll look into getting a boat.”

A boat? Nicole furrowed her brow.

“When will you be there? It’ll take us a couple hours to reach international waters.”

She blinked. They were boating out into the Gulf of Mexico?

“Right. I’ll handle that from my end. Text me the GPS coordinates of the rendezvous point. Yeah. Okay. See you then.” He thumbed the disconnect and looked up at Nicole with a sigh.

“We’re taking Pilar to meet her father out on the Gulf?”

He jerked a nod. “That’s the plan.” He paused and twisted his mouth in thought. “I have to rent a boat by tomorrow night. We’re meeting Jake and Castillo in roughly thirty-six hours.”

“We can use my father’s cabin cruiser. He keeps it docked at a private marina on Grand Isle.” Still hugging Pilar close, she held her hand out for the cell phone. “I’ll call him now and make the arrangements.”

Daniel shook his head and tucked the phone in his shirt pocket. “I’ve told you I don’t want him involved in this. We have to keep a low profile.”

“He’s not—” Nicole stopped herself, feeling her blood pressure rise. Before she hashed this out with Daniel, she needed to put Pilar back to bed.

She nudged the girl back by the shoulders and smiled warmly. “You’ll see your father—
Papi
—soon. I promise.
Pronto.
”

Pilar nodded, a bright hope in her eyes, though Nicole couldn’t be sure how much Pilar understood. Had her father explained anything in their brief conversation?

She led Pilar back to the bedroom and tucked her into bed. As she waited for the girl’s eyes to droop and her breathing to deepen with sleep, Nicole mentally rehearsed her argument in favor of including her father in the loop, allowing him to help. With one call, she could arrange for her father’s forty-foot cabin cruiser to be fueled, stocked and ready for them within hours.

After pressing a light kiss to Pilar’s forehead, Nicole walked back out to the living room and, crossing her arms over her chest, she faced Daniel. “I trust my father.”

“Good for you,” he said without looking up from the map he was studying. “I don’t.”

“Because he’s just like you.”

Now Daniel glanced up, his eyebrow arched skeptically. “Excuse me?”

“The reasons you hate my father—his interference in our relationship five years ago and his giving up your cover to General Ramirez’s men—he did both because he wanted to protect me. As extreme and ill-advised as they seem to us in hindsight, he just wanted to save my life. You’ve done some pretty extreme things for the same reason. Because you both care about me.”

Daniel tensed his jaw, making the muscle jump. “I care about you, yes. I’m nothing like your father.”

She ignored his denial, taking a seat beside him and spreading her hands in entreaty. “What’s more, I care about both of you. I
love
both of you.”

Though he clearly tried to mask his reaction, she saw the telltale twitch in his muscles, as if he’d received an electric jolt. She caught the flicker of heartbreaking emotion and surprise that passed over his face in an instant, before he slammed the protective walls back in place.

He dropped his gaze back to the map, but his hands weren’t quite as steady now. “The fewer people involved, the better our chances of getting Pilar back to her father safely.” He tossed her a side glance. “That is what you want, isn’t it?”