Chapter 22

“I’m not sure I can tell you much of anythin’ you don’t already know,” Jack Charbonnet said. “Maybe we should go to our private quarters. We can be sure of not being interrupted there.”

They sat, drinking champagne, in an intimate lounge on the second deck of the Lucky Lady. The ping and chime of slots, screams of excitement and groans of despair rang out steadily from the lower deck. Waitresses in short, fringed skirts and low-cut tops ran up and down wide stairs to load trays with drinks at the bar in the lounge.

“I like it here,” Vivian said. She’d already come to terms with being in casual clothes while the rest of their company wore evening dress. “I’ve never been on a riverboat before, or in a casino.” Nearby, patrons played keno with the aid of television screens and Vivian noted that some of them made her feel overdressed.

Jack’s wife, Cyrus’s sister, Celina, wrinkled her nose. “My husband knows this isn’t my favorite place but he gets such a charge out of it I don’t complain much.” She had short, red curls and navy-blue eyes, and the kind of figure that turned men’s heads. There was something of Cyrus in her eyes and they shared the same straightforward approach. She leaned closer to Vivian and said, “Jack’s a hermit at heart. Don’t you think people are attracted to opposites—from their own natures, I mean? Sometimes, anyway?”

“I think so,” Vivian said.

“It’s a good idea to keep an eye on who comes and goes here,” Jack said, absolutely serious. He must have overheard Celina. “I’m the best one to do that. Not even the staff knows when I’ll show up. That makes it tough on anyone who wants to take a personal interest in things while I’m not around. Some would like to skim the cream from the operation. I make sure they never get anything they can use against me.”

“That’s code for, we don’t pay protection because of Jack’s connections and what he knows,” Celina said, and laughed. “I make him sound like a member of the family—think Sopranos—but he’s the gentlest man around.” She slid closer to her husband on the banquette and he bent over her to kiss her quickly. The way his eyes lingered on Celina’s made Vivian glance at Spike. He looked straight back and didn’t hide the sexy hooding of his eyes.

“A friend of ours is joining us,” Jack said. “He couldn’t stand to be left out. We might as well give him a few minutes to get here or we’ll have to start from the beginning.”

Jack’s Cajun background was very nice on him. His short, black hair curled the slightest bit and he had the kind of lean face and long, muscularly spare body guaranteed to please. He had eyes that hazel color, more green than hazel really, and he had a way of not blinking when he concentrated on someone. Vivian had seen him come from the outer deck and hold his beautiful wife’s hand when she stepped over the raised threshold. Tall, broad-shouldered and lithe, he moved with languid grace Vivian decided was a cover for someone capable of speed and even deadly action if necessary.

Spike held her hand under the table. He spread her fingers on his thigh, surprising her, then turning her legs to water when her small finger encountered the bulge in his pants. He wasn’t taking his eyes off her.

She smiled at him.

Spike watched her mouth and unconsciously curled his tongue over his upper lip.

If there was a way, they would be in each other’s arms tonight. She contracted in pleasurable ways and in pleasurable places. The thoughts of darkness and skin on skin came too often now. She actually felt him inside her and sat upright with a start.

They hadn’t made love, but still she imagined the smooth, moist stroke of his flesh within hers.

“Amelia wanted to be here,” Celina said, startling Vivian. “She asked me to give you her regards. Her words, not mine. Comes of thinking she’s an adult. She’s eight and madly in love with her uncle Cyrus. I think she’s convinced he’s here and we’re keeping him from her.”

“Everyone loves Cyrus.” Vivian smiled at the other woman. “Spike has a daughter, Wendy, she’s five and sweet, but very grown up, too.”

She felt Spike staring at her and glanced at him. His expression revealed nothing but made her uncomfortable.

“We can usually appease Amelia by saying she has to stay to help Tilly, that’s our housekeeper, with her little brother but it almost didn’t work tonight.”

Spike liked meeting Cyrus’s sister and Jack Charbon-net, who had the kind of worldliness about him that raised flags. They didn’t have to be bad flags. Whatever the man’s story might be, he’d lived, and seen more than most, Spike would bet money on that. He also figured they were circling, avoiding the real reason for this meeting.

A commotion rustled up from the lower decks. A man’s voice gradually grew louder, and so did his laughter, until a full head of blond curls appeared. Compact, beautifully dressed in evening clothes, the whole package arrived—a man who exuded life and expected all eyes to turn in his direction. They did.

“This is Dwayne LeChat,” Jack said quietly. And more loudly, “He and his partner own a successful…club. It’s on Bourbon. Dwayne? Quit grandstanding and get over here. We’ve got folks for you to meet.”

A pianist broke into a chorus of “Careless Love,” and Dwayne flung back his head to laugh before bowing to the musician and going to put a bill in a brandy snifter. “He’s playin’ our song,” he said, laughing over his shoulder at the rest of them. “Everyone in town knows Jean-Claude plays this for me.”

He rushed over and kissed Celina soundly. She kissed and hugged him back before he took Jack in a bear hug.

“Vivian Patin and Spike Devol,” Jack said, indicating his guests. “Good friends of Cyrus’s from Toussaint.”

“Cyrus?” Dwayne frowned a little and his intelligent brown eyes showed something other than the jovial clown he hid behind. “That sweet man. How is he? It’s been too long since he came to see all of us and we worry. He’s too good, you know, too vulnerable in a nasty world.”

“He may be,” Spike said, surprising himself. “He’s a hard act to follow.”

Dwayne shook his hand firmly and reached for Vivian’s, which he took to his mouth for a brief kiss. He raised his brows.

“Vivian and her mother own Rosebank, a beautiful old home just over the line in Iberia—spitting distance from St. Martin,” Spike said. “I’m the Deputy Sheriff in Toussaint—here as Vivian’s friend,” he added quickly.

Dwayne sat down. “And you’ve got trouble.”

Vivian’s lips parted but she didn’t speak.

“We’ve got trouble,” Spike agreed. “And you folks probably can’t do a thing to help us but Cyrus thought you might have an idea about a couple of people who could be involved.”

“Might, could,” Jack said, not rudely but speculatively. He checked around and beckoned to a heavyset man, also in evening dress. What Jack said to the bouncer or bodyguard or whatever wasn’t audible but the man stationed himself at the top of the stairs. “The Martin brothers,” Jack said.

Spike didn’t like this. Jack Charbonnet was a stranger to him, even if he’d married Cyrus’s sister, but he’d already been briefed on why Spike and Vivian were in New Orleans. “Cyrus told you about the Martins?”

Jack regarded him without saying a word.

“Yes, the Martins,” Vivian whispered, louder than if she’d spoken normally. “They’re twins and—”

“I know all about them,” Jack said. “You met them today. Tell me how that went, word for word.”

“Did Cyrus tell you?” Spike asked with an eerie sensation that there was too much he didn’t know about here. “He couldn’t have told you about our meeting with the Martins. I…” No, the phone conversation they’d shared hadn’t touched on any details of the visit to Louis’s offices.

“Cyrus told me you were coming,” Jack said. “He mentioned where you were going today and why—in general terms. I can’t share sources with you, but my brother-in-law would tell you I can be trusted. Unless you’re not comfortable with that, in which case let’s enjoy the company. Have you eaten?”

Spike considered what the man had said, and what he had not said, and the possible ramifications of dealing with him. Jack Charbonnet hadn’t asked to be involved and Spike would trust Cyrus with anyone’s life any day of the week. He raised his brows at Vivian, who nodded. She read his mind; he could almost feel her understanding him.

“I’m comfortable,” he told Jack. “Thanks for the food offer. You hungry, Vivian?” When she shook her head no, he said, “Neither am I. But thanks.”

While Celina and Dwayne looked on, both of them apparently uncomfortable, Vivian let Spike fill Jack in on what had happened when they went to see Gary.

“Louis Martin was okay,” Jack said after thinking awhile. “Lonely, I think. Although there were rumors about a woman in his life. He bought jewelry from a friend of mine. I read about his death—murder. A bad thing. One thing you can be sure of, his sons don’t soil their hands. If they had anything to do with it, the talent was hired.” He signaled the bartender. “If it was a hit, it doesn’t sound like anything the Martins would sanction, though. Too messy. Too personal. But it’s no secret they were waiting for their old man to pop off. Those two have holes in their pockets and a lot of expensive habits.”

“We heard about the woman you mentioned,” Spike said, watching Charbonnet’s face carefully. “I understand she’s in the will and the Martins want her out.”

Jack said, “If she is, it’s probably just as well no one knows who she is. She’d better keep it that way until the will’s public. Harder for the Martin boys to interfere that way—if you understand what I mean by interfere.”

Spike understood. What he didn’t understand was where in hell Charbonnet could be getting his information.

“The sons know this person’s probably getting a big bequest,” Vivian said. “I heard them say something about it.”

“But they didn’t give her name, did they?” Jack asked.

Vivian frowned at Spike and shook her head slowly. “But Gary must know.”

“He doesn’t. No one does. Maybe it’s time to find out.”

“I may be able to help,” Dwayne said. He tapped the fingernails of one hand on the table before speaking to Jack. “You know the connection,” he told him. “Meanwhile, would I be out of line suggestin’ this sexy couple stay away from the Martin brothers?”

Spike absorbed the implications at the same time as he saw Vivian redden and take a big slug of her champagne.

“Spike,” Jack said, “Dwayne and I go back a long way. We understand the way things go in New Orleans. If you’re willin’ to take advice, listen to our friend. The Martins could be bad news.”