Night Game

CHAPTER 16

Nonny hugged Flame, dragged her into the house, and clucked over her broken arm. “Did Gator take care of you, cher?” she asked, with a quick smile for her grandson.

Flame blushed, uncertain what Raoul’s grandmother was asking. Surely she wasn’t inquiring as to whether or not he’d taken care of her sexual needs? It didn’t help that Raoul pressed against her back, his breath warm on the nape of her neck, both hands cupping her bottom right through her tight jeans. She smiled at Nonny and slapped at Gator’s hands behind her back.

“He was-unbelievable.” She found herself stammering.

“Unbelievable?” Wyatt echoed, his eyebrow shooting up. “He was unbelievable?”

Flame’s color deepened and she cast him a glare. “Astonishing.” That was worse. What was the matter with her? It wasn’t her fault, Raoul was distracting her with his roaming hands. He had a fixation with her butt and she was going to have to do something mean right there in his grandmother’s home if he didn’t stop. Did one get aroused in front of other people? She never had, but then that was before she met the Cajun king of perverts.

Gator put his lips against her ear. “Mind-blowing?” He helped her out. “Or maybe that was you.”

Flame cleared her throat. “I couldn’t believe how attentive he was last night, Ms. Fontenot.”

Wyatt burst out laughing. He nudged his brother “You were attentive. Just how attentive were you?”

“Remember, cher, you were going to call me Nonny.”

“Yes, of course.” Her temperature was rising right along with her color. It was so hot she wanted to fan herself. She kicked backward with her heel, driving it into Gator’s calf with a satisfying thud. “Thank you so much for the clothes, Nonny. They fit beautifully, even the shoes.”

Gator’s breath exploded out of his lungs and his hands came down on her shoulders hard. At least she knew where they were and he couldn’t distract her.

“My friend told me about a nice boutique for young women and they had everything. It made it easy to shop.” Nonny said. “I just made a cup of my special tea. Would you like some?”

Gator’s fingers began a slow massage along her collarbone and up toward the nape of her neck.

Flame’s face was bright red. She could feel the color, hot and bright, glowing like a neon banner for everyone to see. What nice shop? Did it specialize in sex toys? Did she dare drink the tea? It could contain an aphrodisiac. “I’d love a cup of tea.” Her voice nearly croaked.

“Are you certain you’re all right, cher?” Nonny asked. “Maybe you’ve gotten out of bed too soon. Raoul, maybe you should take her back to bed.”

Wyatt nudged his brother, winking. “Grand-mere wants you to take her back to bed.”

“Thas no way for a gentleman to talk, Wyatt,” Nonny reprimanded.

Wyatt grinned at her, clearly unrepentant.

Flame let out her breath in a long hiss promising retaliation. It had to be Wyatt who provided her night attire and the sex toys. She’d find a way to get even, but at least it enabled her to relax a little around Nonny.

“The kitchen is a mite crowded. The boys have been eating since they got here, Raoul. I don’ think those boys have had a good home-cooked meal in a long while.”

Flame stiffened. This was getting worse and worse. She had a feeling the “boys” weren’t Gator’s other two brothers.

“Grand-mere,” Gator said, kissing his grandmother on the forehead, “those boys have never had cookin’ like yours. You’re the best of the best and everyone in the bayou knows it. I can’t blame them for eating so much.”

“They’re good, polite boys,” Nonny said. “I don’ mind cookin’ for them.”

“That’s a good thing, Nonny, because Tucker never gets filled up,” Gator said.

Kadan and Tucker stood up as the women entered room, Tucker grinning at Nonny a little sheepishly.

“I finished up the gumbo, ma’am. I’ve never had anything so good.”

Kadan nodded his agreement. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“No need for that, boys,” Nonny said, looking pleased. Flame felt the impact of the two GhostWalkers’s gazes. Hard. Penetrating. As if they were looking straight through her to see inside of her. She became aware of Raoul’s hand then, his fingers stroking hers, covering her fist curled around the hilt of her knife. He was very close to her again, his body deliberately crowding hers so it would be difficult to draw the knife and throw in one smooth motion.

“They’re my family, cher,” he reminded, his lips close to her ear.

Flame felt the stirring of his warm breath, heard the reassurance in his voice, but her gaze immediately covered the room, noting all exits, windows, and every single item she could use as a weapon should she need it.

“Flame, this is Kadan Montague and Tucker Addison. Both are my friends and work with me,” Gator said.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Tucker greeted.

Kadan registered the fact that she hadn’t loosened ha grip on her knife and Gator’s hand held hers stationary. “I hope you’re feeling better. Gator told us you won a fight with an alligator.”

She forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and made a conscious effort to open her fingers and let go of her lifeline. “Well, I don’t know about that. He lost an eye and I nearly lost an arm, so I’d say it was a draw.”

“Rye called this morning and said the man you identified as Rick Fielding died four years ago running an ops in Columbia,” Kadan announced.

“That’s impossible. He took the psychic test the same time I did. I’m not mistaken,” Gator protested. “It was the same man.”

“You probably aren’t mistaken,” Flame said. “If I had access to a good computer I’d run a list of names of soldiers who took that test, supposedly didn’t make it in but were listed as dead or missing a few months later. My guess would be they’ve become part of another team and someone with a lot of money and a lot of contacts is running them.” Kadan’s gaze had such an impact she hunched, but refused to look away from him. She brushed palm over the hilt of her knife for reassurance.

“I’d agree that running that list of names and comparing them to men who are supposed to be dead is a very smart idea,” Kadan agreed. “I’ll pass it on to Rye and see what he comes up with. He also mentioned that a couple of days ago a U.S. registered Falcon 2000 executive jet landed at the airport here and remained until yesterday. The jet is owned by a company called Lansing International Consulting.”

“Where’s this company based?” Gator asked.

“They’re out of Nevada.”

“I don’t understand,” Wyatt said. “Why would a jet be important?”

“Those men we encountered in the swamp,” Gator said, choosing his words carefully, “had to have been flown in.”

Kadan cleared his throat and continued, “One signature appears on the company’s annual report, an Earl Thomas Bartlett. Ryland ran a search of all commercial databases and there is no record whatsoever of Mr. Bartlett. No residence, driver’s license, Social Security number, or even evidence of a vehicle, yet Mr. Bartlett signs reports and sends jets to various locations all over the world.”

“Who was the jet purchased from?” Flame asked.

Kadan’s strange, glittering gaze met hers, sending another chill through her. “You’re smart. That was the first thing Lily asked too. The jet was purchased from another company, one called International Investments. Like Bartlett, the owner of that company doesn’t seem to exist in any public records.”

“He’s alive,” Flame whispered. She looked at Gator, stricken. “He is alive. I was right all along.”

Gator held out his hand to her and after a moment, she took it.

“Unfortunately, Flame,” Kadan said, “I’m beginning to think you could be right. This aircraft, as well as a few others like it, owned by private international consulting, investing, or marketing companies, appears to be able to fly into restricted areas and that takes clearance. The companies Rye’s looked into all have the same low profile, claim to make small profits, turn in their annual reports, and each has one man who doesn’t appear to exist at the helm. Ryland’s still investigating and it will be a while before we know anything else, but in the meantime it would be a smart move to be on high alert.”

“Any news out of the Congo on Ken Norton?” Gator asked.

“Not yet. No one’s heard anything,” Tucker said.

“Come sit down,” Nonny said, pulling out a chair at the table. “The tea’s done and we could all use a cup.” They complied quickly, although Tucker hung out by the stove, inhaling the aroma of the fish stew slowly cooking. Gator sat between Flame and his grandmother, afraid the next subject would distress her. “Flame and I have a theory about Joy’s disappearance,” he announced. “And we’d like to run it by you.” While his grandmother poured tea, he filled the others in on the details. Flame liked the fact that Gator didn’t try to hide anything from his grandmother. She had a strong feeling that Nonny could help them given the right information. She was shrewd and very knowledgeable regarding the bayou as she’d lived her entire life there. “I think Joy’s still alive and being held somewhere. Now that they’re worried about me blowing it for them, they very well could move her-or even kill her,” she concluded.

There was a small silence. Tucker paced across the length of the kitchen. “Emanuel Parsons is a huge political nightmare. If we move on him, we’ve got to have proof beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

“James Parsons is a follower,” Gator said. “No way is he the brains. I’m guessing someone fed his need to be important. He has a deep sense of entitlement and obviously feels superior to everyone, particularly women, so it wouldn’t be all that difficult to entice him into deviant behavior. Once they had him on camera, they’d not only have him, but his father as well.”

“Emanuel has a good reputation in his department,” Kadar pointed out. “Lily checked him out thoroughly when his name came up and we knew there was a connection to Saunders.”

“All the more reason for Saunders to compromise him,” Gator said. “We brought a couple of discs Flame found in Saunders’s safe.”

“Saunders’s safe?” Kadan echoed. “You just happened to be browsing there?”

“Something like that,” Flame said, sipping at her steaming tea. She glanced at Gator and sure enough he was grinning. “I’m a little uncomfortable having every one watch the discs. I suspect we’re going to see Joy being raped in Parsons’s car. For her sake and that of her family, I just think it would be better if we kept the viewers to a minimum.”

“I agree,” Nonny backed her up. “I’ve known Joy since she was a baby and she’d be horrified and humiliated to know anyone saw a movie of her. Her parents would feel the same.”

Wyatt stood up fast, knocking the kitchen chair over. “You really think that disc shows Joy being raped?”

Gator leaned over and righted the chair, his movements slow and deliberate. “I think there’s a good chance of it, yes. Worse, they probably put a drug in her drink so there’s a possibility she cooperated without knowing what she was doing.” He might as well get the worst out in the open. He’d long suspected Wyatt was concealing feelings for Joy. It had been Wyatt who insisted Nonny call Gator home.

Nonny wrung her hands together. “Guess I should do it. but I don’ know if I’ve got the heart for it.”

Gator swept his arm around her. “Not you, Grand-mere. Kadan, Flame, and I will watch it. Kadan can sometimes see things we miss. Flame might be able to remember details from the other day when she was assaulted, and I’m hoping to recognize where they might have taken her.” He looked up at his brother’s set features. “We could be wrong about all this, Wyatt.”

Gator’s hand found Flame’s and he gripped her fingers hard. They weren’t wrong. Flame was too certain of what had been in the car. She recognized evil when she saw it

– she’d certainly been exposed to what a madman, who believed himself above the law, could do.

“I feel like I should be helping,” Nonny said.

“Me too,” Wyatt added, coming up behind his grandmother and circling her waist with his arm.

Flame had the feeling it was as much for his comfort as for comforting his grandmother. “Well, I brought the photographs with me. Some of them are pictures taken from Joy’s camera and they’re of various places in the bayou. Maybe if the two of you looked at them, you’d be able to figure out where the photos were taken.”

“That would help?” Nonny asked, patting Wyatt’s arm.

“Absolutely,” Flame said and passed the manila envelope to her.

Gator led Flame and Kadan into a small room they used for a television room. Nonny was very strict about entertaining versus entertainment. One didn’t view television with company present. She believed in visiting. Gator popped the first disc into the player and turned it on. No one sat down. Kadan leaned against the wall and Flame stood close to Gator near the screen. She had a wild idea if she was right and the disc exposed Joy’s humiliation and the crimes against her, then she would jump in front of the television to shield her.

The sound of a door closing opened the homemade movie. Joy Chiasson slid onto the backseat of the car. She looked startled to see James and actually reached for the door handle. It was locked. “I thought your father was meeting me to take me to see his friend.” Her voice was rich and smooth.

“He couldn’t make it,” James said. “He asked me to get you to the meeting. He thinks there’s a good chance you’ll come away from this with a recording contract.” The tinkling of ice could be heard. “Here, drink this. It will help calm you down. I’ll bet you’re nervous thinking about auditioning.”

“I’m a little nervous,” Joy admitted. The camera panned the backseat allowing them a view of Joy taking the tumbler of iced liquid from James-allowing them to see the smirk on his face and the bulge building in his lap.

“Sleazy little bastard,” Flame muttered. “I should have killed him when I had the chance. They must have been coming back from being with her all night judging by their clothes and the smell.” She pressed her hand to her stomach in a small protest. “I remember now James smelled of sex. It was early morning. Why did it take me so freakin’ long to remember the details?”

“Give yourself a break, cher. You’d lost a lot of blood and then you were operated on,” Gator soothed.

Flame tried to see the details objectively. The camera never panned to the windows, but focused on the back seat. Once Joy’s hands and ankles were tied and she lay helplessly sprawled out, James was particularly vicious, slapping and humiliating her, telling her he would never consider marrying such a slut.

When the walls of the room began to undulate and the floor shifted, she wasn’t certain if she was doing it or if it was Raoul.

“You both need to step out of the room,” Kadan advised, his voice calm.

Flame didn’t wait for a second invitation. She rushed out of the room, through the hall and stepped outside, drawing fresh air deep into her lungs. She heard foot steps, but didn’t turn around.

“Did he rape her?” The tone was low, but extraordinarily deadly. For the first time, Wyatt sounded exactly like his brother.

“We have to find her,” Flame replied. “We have to find her right away.”

There was a long silence. She didn’t look at Wyatt, not wanting to intrude when he was so obviously struggling for control. The scene from inside the car had been bad enough. She was terrified to think what might be recorded on the other two discs.

“Grand-mere recognized one of the photographs as having been taken in a small clearing on one of the islets. She said the Comeaux family has an old trapper cabin out there somewhere. She knew the old man, and he trapped and fished the bayou. He often stayed there for months on end and his wife would finally send one of the boys after him to bring him home.”

“The Comeaux family?” Flame repeated. “But if she’s being held there, why would they take her out there, let her take pictures, and then bring her back? That doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“You think one of the Comeaux brothers would touch Joy? They’re our people. They’d never lay a finger on that girl.”

“What about Vicq? I’ve heard he’s as mean as a snake and brutal with women.”

“Vicq? He’s mean all right, but he…” Wyatt trailed off.

Flame did turn then, catching the sudden rage on his face. “Don’t go running off on your own before we know what we’re doing. If we tip them off, they’ll kill her and we’ll never find her body. We have to be very certain and go at this the right way. Come on.” She caught his arm. “Let’s go back inside and tell the others what your grandmother said.”

Wyatt went with her reluctantly, but at least she got him in the house. They interrupted a heated argument between Ian and Gator. Ian wanted to bring in the police and Gator absolutely refused, afraid Parsons would be tipped off.

“We’re only going to have one chance at a rescue, only one,” Gator emphasized. “If we hit the wrong place, she’s dead. I say we go in quiet, get her out, and just take care of this. Let them all figure out from the evidence the why of it. They’ll say vigilantes in the bayou did it.”

“You can’t leave those discs of Joy behind,” Wyatt decreed.

“No one’s going to see those discs, Wyatt,” Gator assured.

“Did Nonny tell you she recognized a clearing where the Comeaux family owns a trapper cabin way out in the bayou?” Flame asked. “I think it’s a big coincidence that Vicq tried to kill you the other night at the Hurican Club and then he followed us today. He dated Joy once and she broke up with him.”

“He got into a really heated argument with James Parsons at the club,” Ian added. “And strangely enough, it was the driver who stepped in and calmed everything down. The minute he spoke to Comeaux, the man backed off.”

“Vicq Comeaux doesn’t back off anyone,” Gator said, unless there’s a reason.”

Kadan came in, poured himself a cup of the rich, thick coffee Nonny kept hot, and turned around to regard them all. “That was some of the sickest stuff I’ve ever seen. They’re hooking her on drugs, but they evidently like filming her frightened and fighting, so whatever they gave her in the car to calm her, they aren’t doing anymore. I think they’re stringing her out so she’ll cooperate. They’re using terror tactics, beating her, most of the time in some sexual display. I saw two men, but there was at least one more in the shadows, who stayed out of the view of the camera. She stared at him a lot, very frightened.”

“You recognize the men from any of the photos or files you’ve looked at?” Gator asked, avoiding looking at his brother.

“One was the Parsons kid. He’s a real piece of work. The other is the driver.”

“Carl Raines,” Flame supplied.

Kadan nodded. “He’s the one who I think must have arranged the grab. He spends a lot of time with her. Most of the video clips are of him.”

“No evidence of the old man participating? You get the idea it was him in the background?”

Kadan shook his head. “Couldn’t say one way or the other, but whoever it is, she’s very afraid of him.”

“If she’s at the Comeaux cabin, why would she have pictures of the area?”

“Maybe they were going to grab her then and something went wrong,” Tucker offered.

“Or that sleazy kid got high just bringing her close to the cabin, knowing what was coming,” Kadan said. “He’s really screwed up and he’d savor the idea of showing her around, all the while knowing what he was going to do to her.”

Flame felt sick. Joy was caged up with monsters torturing her. She had no hope left by this time and she would be sick and confused. “If we pull Joy out of there, she can tell us who else is involved. She won’t be as afraid of me. I can check out the Comeaux cabin and if she’s there, go in quietly while you all…” She hesitated, glancing at Nonny. “Secure the place.”

“She’ll have to go to the hospital,” Kadan advised.

“We’ll notify the doctors and her family when we have her,” Gator said. “I don’t want to wait until dark.”

“If Vicq Comeaux is guarding her out there, he’ll kill her and dump the body if he hears you coming,” Wyatt said.

“He won’t hear us,” Gator assured. “We know what we’re doing.”

“I’m coming with you.” It was a declaration and Wyatt looked every bit as stubborn as Gator.

Gator shook his head. “You can wait nearby, Wyatt, but you’d be a liability we can’t afford. This is what we do. One mistake and it’s all gone to hell.”

“How could something like this be goin’ on in our t backyard, Raoul, and we not know it?” Nonny asked. “Do you think they took that other poor woman?”

“I don’t doubt it for a minute,” Gator said.

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Tucker said. “We’ll do our best to get a lead on finding her if she’s still alive.” Gator’s grandmother appeared very agitated, wringing her hands together, her back ramrod straight and her features very set. Flame rubbed her hand over Nonny’s ann. ‘We’ll bring her back to safety, Nonny,” she reassured gently. “I’ve seen your grandson in action. He’s very good-and so am I. We’re not leaving her there and we’re not messing this up.”

“Should I call her family?”

Nonny’s thin body was trembling. Flame put her arm around the woman and led her out of the kitchen to the more comfortable couch in the sitting room, mouthing the word tea over her shoulder to Gator. “No, I don’t think that would be a very good idea. No one can know what we suspect until she’s safe.” She helped her to sit down and Gator put a cup of tea in front of her. “We’ll do this. I promise you, we’ll do this.” Flame pushed the tea into her hands. “Will you be okay until we get back?”

“I’m fine, cher. Just a little shaken up to think this could happen here.” She parted Flame’s arm. “Don’ worry about me. You just make sure Joy is safe.”

Flame stood up, feeling tears burning behind her eyes and clogging her throat. Joy would never be the same again. She would be forever isolated, eventually smiling and talking and walking around with her friends and family, but deep inside, deep where it counted, she would be forever cold and scared and filled with rage.

She looked at Raoul because she couldn’t stop herself. She knew he would see the shadows and the demons and she would feel even more vulnerable for turning to him for comfort, but she couldn’t help it. Why did it always seem as if evil prevailed? Life wasn’t anything like the fairy tales and just once, she’d like a damned happy ending.

Gator’s heart nearly stopped when he saw Flame’s expression. He pressed his hand to his chest to make certain it was still beating. She could knock his legs right out from under him when she looked so sad, so openly fragile. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her close to him, where nothing could ever hurt her. Flame was a woman who kept one hand on her knife and would scoff at his notion that he had to protect her, but that didn’t stop his need to do so.

He flung his arm casually around her neck, drawing her to him, pretending not to see the tears so close, pretending her body didn’t tremble against his. She’d kill him if she cried in front of the others, so he was walking a fine line, using his body to shelter her while taking care that he didn’t trigger a flood of tears. “Let’s go to work,” he said gruffly. “I know where the Comeaux trapper cabin is located.”

Flame walked close to him, allowing the brush of his hard body against her to give her control and focus. She’d never relied on anyone but herself and it was a strange feeling to allow herself to be comforted by a man. A GhostWalker. She tasted the word as she slid into the four-wheel-drive Jeep. Were they all ghosts, just as she was? She glanced around her at the other men. They all looked hard. Battle-scarred. And they all had shadows in their eyes. It didn’t matter that Tucker Addison ate Nonny’s food with gusto and was polite and gentle when he spoke to the older woman. Flame could see those same shadows, the light never quite reaching his eyes. Sharing something in common with them made her feel a little closer to them all.

The men murmured in low tones, developing a plan for making their way to the Comeaux trapper cabin. They would get as close as possible using the Jeep, take a pirogue the second part of the way and then go through the water. Wyatt would stand by with the airboat and when they signaled to him, he’d bring it in to remove Joy quickly.

None of the men protested when Gator said Flame would enter the cabin alone to check if Joy was there. She only half listened to them, knowing they were a team. She was odd man out. They had trained together and worked like a machine, each knowing what the other would do. Kadan was a shielder and he would make certain no one would hear or see them coming. Gator and Flame could silence any noise, adding extra protection.

The pirogue was flat-bottomed and made of cypress. Gator pushed the canoe through a sea of purple water hyacinths. Great egrets fed, walking through the water on stiltlike legs. A few fluttered their wings as the pirogue moved through them, but they didn’t appear too disturbed. The boat passed groves of cypress draped in Spanish moss, tupelo gums and dramatic maples all turning shades of red or russet. It seemed a lost world with the tangle of brilliantly colored flowers on the swamp floor and the prairie grasses swaying gently with the slow flow of water. Flame had never been this far into the bayou and was astonished at the beauty of it all. It seemed obscene to her that somewhere a woman was held captive, drugged and tortured in the midst of so much splendor.

The skies darkened as another storm front moved over them. Gray clouds swept the blue from overhead and a fine drizzle began, turning the horizon into a silvery haze.

Gator pushed the boat through the thick fields of fourchettes, using sheer strength to get through the marigold marsh. Flame silenced the alarms of the birds as the pirogue moved inland to shore.

The men all stepped out of the boat and held the sides, politely waiting for her. Flame took a slow, careful look around, trying to see if there were any telltale bubbles or even the rigid eyeplates of an alligator marring the surface of the water. In the thick field of fourchettes, it was virtually impossible to tell. She hesitated only a second before stepping out of the boat into the knee-high water. Her heart pounded and she had to work at controlling her breathing. Gator glanced at her, obviously able to hear and, to her shame, Kadan did as well.

Automatic rifles were slung over the men’s shoulders and Kadan held out a small revolver. ‘Would you like a gun? We should have asked. I’m armed to the teeth.”

Flame shook her head. “I’m better with a knife.”

Kadan nodded and gestured her to follow Gator, who led the way. The others fell in line, walking single file in the water, sometimes up to their waists as they wound around the shore of the islet. The marsh was thick with flowers, nettles, and stumps and it was slow going as they made the approach toward the Comeaux hunting camp.

Gator held up his hand and the line stopped. He gestured toward land and Ian immediately broke off from the group and waded through the thicker foliage to solid ground. Within minutes, Tucker and Kadan had taken to shore so they could approach the cabin from every direction, spreading out like a giant net to encompass the large area around the hunting camp.

Gator and Flame continued creeping through the water until she could see the rickety planks of wood that served as a deck and walkway to the cabin. Two cypress trees rose up through the deck and several cans of gasoline sat in front of one of them, just a few feet from a generator. A single plank led past the trees to the cabin. A crab pot lay tilted on its side near the trees and an airboat was tied to a pole between the deck and the cabin.

“Vicq Comeaux,” Raoul said, keeping his voice only to her. “It started to rain so he decided to forget fishing.”

“He’s not alone with her,” Flame said, her stomach beginning to knot up. She could hear inside the cabin now. The low cries of a female voice, the slap of something against flesh. The pleading and sobbing that followed. She quickened her pace. “I can hear other voices.”

“Don’ go getting yourself killed, cher. We want them all together. It will be easier that way.” He caught her arm. “Someone’s coming out.”

The door to the cabin opened and Vicq Comeaux shoved James Parsons out. James teetered and nearly fell. “Get the hell out of here before you end up gator bait,” Vicq yelled.

“You wouldn’t even have her if it wasn’t for me,” James snapped.

Gator signaled Flame forward, out of the water and she went in low, allowing the water, even the shallows, to creep up to her neck so she slithered out on her belly. She began to crab crawl up the slope toward the side of the cabin using a slow, steady movement designed not to draw the eye or move the foliage around her too much.

She heard the call of a bird. A second one answered. A bullfrog croaked. The men were in place. It was up to her to get inside and protect Joy.

“You sniveling piece of city boy shit. You wouldn’t have the balls to grab a woman. Carl took her, just like he took the last one. The only reason you were let in on it was to get your pappy offa Saunders’s back. That’s the only thing you’re good for and we already got the tapes, so as far as I’m concerned if you turn up dead, nobody’s gonna care one way or the other.” Vicq took a step to ward him and James backpedaled, misstepped and tumbled into the shallow water.

Gator immediately sank beneath the surface of the water and headed toward James. Vicq burst out laughing, slapping his knee as he watched James trying to regain his footing in the soft muck on the bottom.

Flame crept up to the window. The cracked glass was coated with years of grime, making it nearly impossible to see into the room. An old piece of burlap hung inside, at one time intended perhaps to block the light, hut it was ragged with age and torn almost in half. Moving around to the back of the cabin she discovered a much smaller window. One flimsy strip of board slashed across the open space at the back. There was no glass. It wasn’t going to be easy with a broken arm, but she would endure anything to make it into that cabin and protect Joy.

Looking inside, Flame could see a bed directly under the window. Joy was standing, both hands tied above her head to a hook hanging from the ceiling. Her body was covered in bruises and welts.

“Don’t look up, Joy.” Flame sent her voice directly to the woman. “I’m a friend of Nonny Fontenot. She sent me here to get you out.” She wiggled the board free, and tossed it behind her before jumping up to catch the windowsill with her good arm.

Joy frantically nodded her head toward the door several times, obviously fearful that Vicq and James would return.

Flame was grateful for her physical enhancements, which enabled her to pull herself up so she could wiggle through the small opening. She had to go in headfirst, but she landed on the bed and somersaulted onto the floor in a crouch, knife already drawn. A jolt of pain ran through her arm and crashed through her body. Breathing deep to ride it out, she took a quick sweep of the cabin, noting there was only the one door.

A butcher knife lay on the counter alongside several stacks of dirty dishes. Flame stepped over a long thick staff and reached up to cut through the leather ties binding Joy’s hands to the hook.

Joy crumpled to the floor, her legs unable to support her. Flame reached down to her, grasping her shoulders when the cabin shook slightly, and she knew immediately Raoul was warning her.

Vicq Comeaux stepped inside and quietly closed the door, a huge grin spreading over his face. “Nothing I like better than to see two women on their knees in front of me. Go ahead and touch the bitch, everyone else does.”

Flame’s eyes widened. She started to stutter an apology, standing, backpedaling- drawing him to her. Vicq stalked her across the small room, toeing Joy out of his way to get to Flame. Flame went for the helpless look, cradling her broken arm, making herself look even smaller until Vicq reached out with one meaty hand, grabbed her breast, and yanked hard to bring her to him. She went, using his tremendous strength along with her own, burying the largest knife she owned as deep into his gut as she could get it and jumped back out of his reach.

Vicq roared with pain, both hands going to the hilt as he stared at her. “What have you done?”

“That one was for Joy. This one’s for putting your filthy hands on me you son of a bitch.” Flame pulled the second, smaller throwing knife from inside the cast on her arm, watching his eyes widen with the certain knowledge that she wasn’t small and helpless. That she wasn’t tied up. That he couldn’t stop the inevitable. Even as he staggered toward her, she threw the knife with deadly accuracy, burying it in his throat.

Vicq went down hard, shaking the cabin as Joy tried to struggle to her feet. She began to sob quietly. “There are more of them. How are we going to get out of here?”