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"What happened to your date?" Billy asked.
"It wasn't a date, and he had to get back to the station."
Billy scooted out the chair next to him so she could sit down. "How's the hamburger?" she asked Parker.
He smiled, a curious blend of shyness and wariness. "It's good."
"Parker, Shelby is a special friend of mine," Billy said as if to alleviate some of the child's distrust. "If you ever need anything and you can't find Angehque or me, you can always go to Shelby."
"That's right." Shelby watched the play of emotions on the little boy's face and realized the child must know about his father's arrest and what might happen. Poor baby. His mother was gone, and Shelby fought the need to pull the little boy close, hold him tight against her heart. "Parker, sweetie, if you ever just need to talk you can always talk to me," she said.
Billy ruffled Parker's dark hair with one hand. "But don't worry, son. Shelby is going to do whatever she can to make sure I stay with you always."
"She's going to keep you out of jail?" Parker asked softly.
"That's what I'm counting on," Billy replied, his gaze hot as it lingered on Shelby.
Again she was reminded of their lovemaking the night before, how complete she had felt in his arms. "I asked Bob for all the reports he had on the swamp serpent. He'll have them for me first thing in the morning," she said, needing to defuse the s.e.xual tension between them and get back on a professional footing.
"I'd like to go over them with you. I don't know, maybe I'll be able to see something you can't, a pattern, a clue...something." Billy leaned toward her. "Did you know that before Tyler went to The Edge, he ate dinner here that night? And he didn't eat alone."
Shelby scooted forward on her chair. "Who'd he eat with? Fayrene?" she asked softly, hoping Parker was too involved in his meal to concern himself with adult conversation.
Billy shook his head. "Your sister."
"Olivia?" Shelby looked at him in surprise. "Are you sure?"
"That's what Martha told me. She said they ate together and left together."
"Does Bob know about it?"
"I imagine he does. He probably dismissed it as unimportant. After all, what could she possibly have to do with Tyler's and Fayrene's deaths?"
"I don't know, but I don't understand why Olivia hasn't mentioned this to me." Shelby frowned, ugly suppositions running through her head. Was it possible Tyler had said something to Olivia and Olivia had pa.s.sed that information to somebody else...perhaps Big John?
"Dad, can I have another soda?"
The childish voice pulled Shelby from her thoughts. As Billy got up to get Parker another drink, she smiled at the little boy. "You enjoying your summer, Parker?" she asked.
He nodded. "'Cept Angelique has me doing schoolwork all the time. Next year I'll go to school in town." He chewed a French fry, his gaze unwavering on Shelby. "You gonna make sure my daddy doesn't go to jail?"
"I'm going to try my best."
"You got any kids?" Parker asked.
Shelby shook her head. "I don't even have a husband."
Parker picked up another French fry. "My dad doesn't have a wife. Maybe you guys could get married and I could be your kid."
Shelby's heart twisted as she recognized the hunger in Parker's words. It was the hunger of a child for a family. Shelby knew it well, knew that even within the confines of her own family she had suffered the same kind of hunger. "Parker, I'm just your daddy's lawyer, but I'm sure someday he'll find a wonderful woman to marry and you'll all be a happy family."
"Here you are, Parker," Billy said as he set a tall soda in front of his son.
Shelby stood, suddenly needing to be away from Billy's evocative presence and Parker's sweet need. "I'd better get moving. There's a lot of things I need to get done this afternoon."
"You're getting reports from Bob in the morning?" Shelby nodded and Billy continued. "Then why don't you meet me at the shanty as soon as you have them and we'll start going over them together." Although his words said one thing, his gaze implied another. His words said they would work on the reports, his dark, heated eyes spoke of a morning spent beneath navy sheets and a ceiling fan whispering against bare flesh.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she said, then turned and left the small dining room. And tomorrow they would discuss how foolish it had been for her to allow their relations.h.i.+p to be anything other than lawyer and client.
She was grateful to see that most of the lunch rush crowd had left and Martha sat at the end of the counter, enjoying a cup of coffee and a piece of her own home-baked pie. Shelby slid onto the stool next to her. "Hey, Martha, got a few minutes?"
"Sure, honey. What do you need?"
"I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions."
Martha grinned. "As long as you don't want to ask me my age or my weight."
"Marguerite Boujoulais worked for you before she was killed, right?"
Martha's smile immediately fell and sadness filled her dark eyes. "Ah, yes, Marguerite worked here for almost a year before she died. She was one of my best waitresses, sa.s.sy and full of life and so beautiful." Martha took a sip of her coffee and shook her head. "So sad when somebody so full of life has that stolen from her."
"Did you ever see her with my father?" Shelby asked, unsure how this fit into the murders, but curious nevertheless. She realized now that her home, just like the town, had been filled with secrets.
"Why do you ask?" Martha didn't quite meet her gaze.
"Because I think my father had an affair with Marguerite."
"What if he did? Ancient history. Marguerite has been dead for years. What difference does it make if your daddy had a thing with her or not?"
Shelby frowned, realizing Martha was right. What difference did it make if her father had a fling or not? How on earth could that tie in to the swamp serpent murders? "I don't know," she finally admitted. "I'll see you later." Wearily she arose from the stool and left the restaurant.
Stepping out into the afternoon heat, she wondered what she was doing, why it suddenly seemed so important that she glean all the secrets her family possessed. Was she trying to find clues to a murderer, or was she trying to piece together a portrait of a family she could understand?
Her father might have had an affair, and Olivia had had dinner with Tyler on the night he was murdered. What did it mean? Pieces...that's all she had, and she didn't even know if they fit at all into the puzzle of Fayrene's and Tyler's or the swamp murders.
She got into her car and waited for the air-conditioning to cool the interior. As she waited, she once again thought of Billy and how easily his gaze had stirred her. It had been a mistake to sleep with him again. By repeating the lovemaking she had hoped to dispel his power over her, diminish the memory that had haunted her for years. But in making love to Billy again she hadn't dispelled anything. She'd only given herself more haunting.
As she drove home she decided it couldn't happen again. She couldn't allow Billy to seduce her into wanting him again. Professionally, sleeping with him had been a mistake. Personally, it had been even worse because she knew now she was in danger of falling in love with Billy. And that was something she'd sworn she would never, ever do.
Pulling in to the driveway, she saw Michael pulling out. He waved as he pa.s.sed, and she returned the gesture. He'd probably stopped by for lunch and was on his way back to his rectory. She wished she'd arrived earlier and gotten a chance to visit with him. She never tired of Michael's company.
When Shelby entered the house, she immediately saw Olivia sitting in the living room, a magazine opened on her lap. "Ah, just the person I wanted to talk to," Shelby said as she sat down next to her sister.
"What's up?" Olivia closed the magazine and looked at Shelby curiously.
"Why didn't you tell me you had dinner with Tyler on the night he was killed?" Shelby asked, trying to keep any accusation from her voice.
Olivia shrugged. "Oh, that. Because there was nothing to tell. Tyler and I ran into each other at Martha's. We decided to sit together because we were both alone. We ate, then we left. I came home and I don't know where he went."
"While you were eating, did he mention where he was going or what his plans were after dinner?"
"No, we mostly just gossiped." Olivia smiled and smoothed an eyebrow with a finger. "Being on the social scene for the paper, Tyler always had the best gossip."
"Did you discuss the swamp serpent murders?"
"We might have touched on it, but I don't remember anything specific." Olivia s.h.i.+vered slightly. "Why is all this so important? It makes me ill to think that a few hours after I dined with him, he was stabbed to death." Olivia sighed impatiently. "Surely you aren't still hung up on this idea that somehow the swamp murders and Tyler's are related?"
"The only thing I'm hung up on is finding out the truth."
Olivia leaned forward and smiled. "Are you sleeping with him yet?" She laughed. "Oh, I can tell by the look on your face that you are. Oh, that Billy, he's a slick one. Who else would seduce his lawyer and muddle the issue of his own guilt by tying in an old set of murders? He must be good to have you believing in his innocence. But tell me this, Shelby, would you believe him innocent if you weren't sleeping with him?"
Olivia's laughter followed Shelby up the stairs to her room. Once inside, Shelby sank down at the desk, her thoughts whirling in confusion.
Was she a fool to believe in Billy's innocence? Did Fayrene's and Tyler's murders have nothing to do with the swamp serpent? Were Billy's hungry gazes, searing kisses and seductive manner solely an effort to keep her on his side no matter what the evidence might show?
She rubbed her forehead wearily, then punched on the computer, knowing it would take her most of the afternoon to make copies of all of Tyler's files. She opened her purse, withdrew her gla.s.ses and put them on as she waited for the computer to boot up.
There was no way she'd believe Billy was guilty, and it had nothing to do with his expertise as a lover. The key to Tyler's murder was in his files, files that involved the swamp serpent murders.
Punching the appropriate keys, Shelby attempted to call up one of the files she wanted. She frowned as she received an error message. FILE NOT FOUND. Tapping on the keys, she tried again. FILE NOT FOUND. What was going on? She tried another file and received the same message. Finally, going to the root directory, she scanned the list of files. All of the swamp serpent ones were gone, as if they'd never existed.
"d.a.m.n," she muttered. Shutting off the computer, she felt cold fingers drag up her spine as she realized what had happened. While she had been gone, somebody had sneaked into her room and erased all the files. Somebody in the house...a member of her family. And there was only one reason for the files to be erased-somebody had been afraid of what she might discover.
Chapter Fifteen.
"I'll be back to pick you up later this afternoon," Billy said to his son as he gave him a quick hug.
"Okay, Dad." Parker looked at Angelique. "Is Rafe awake?"
She nodded. "He's in his bedroom watching cartoons. Go on." Parker scurried down the hall and disappeared into Rafe's room.
"Walk me out?" Billy said to Angelique.
As they stepped out on her porch, the morning sun was just rising above the trees, casting a s.h.i.+mmering golden light on the swamp land. Angelique looked at Billy, noting how even the golden light of day couldn't dispel the darkness of his eyes.
Angelique knew it was the pervasive darkness that all people born and raised in the swamp carried with them. It was something others couldn't understand, a darkness bred in savage beauty and deepened by nature's supreme survival law. One had to be strong to make it in the swamp.
"I don't know how long it will take for Shelby and me to go over all the reports we need to read. We've got a lot of work to do."
Angelique shrugged. "You know Parker is always welcome here."
He nodded, his gaze lingering on her with a studied detachment that caused a niggle of fear in Angelique. "You've been a good friend, Angelique," he said.
"Rafe, you and Parker are the only things I've cared about since Remy's death," she answered. He smiled, but still she sensed a distance from him that frightened her. She stepped closer to him, wanting to bridge the distance, but knowing it had nothing to do with their physical proximity.
"Shelby tells me she found a dead bouquet in her bed." His eyes flashed an emotion Angelique had never seen before. "I'm not making any accusations, I just want you to know that I will kill anyone who harms Shelby." His intensity dissipated somewhat and he smiled once again. "I need her. She's the only one who can get me out of the mess I'm m, the only one who believes in my innocence."
"I believe in you," Angelique said.
Billy placed an arm around her shoulder. "Yeah, but you aren't my lawyer."
She wished she was. She wanted to be as important to him as Shelby Longsford. If she was lucky, her dreams would come true and would make Shelby's heart dead, make it impossible for Shelby to ever love Billy.
"I don't know for sure when I'll be back for Parker," Billy said. "It's going to be a long day."
"You know it doesn't matter. Parker will be fine here with Rafe and me."
He kissed her on the cheek and stepped down off the porch. "I'll see you later."
She nodded and watched as he moved through the swamp, finally disappearing into the glare of the morning sun. Leaning against the wooden railing, she drew in a deep breath. She knew Billy had meant his threat. He'd kill anyone who harmed Shelby Longsford.
With another sigh, Angelique turned and went back inside, trying to forget all the people she'd lost to the swamp serpent, how frightened she was of losing Billy to Shelby.
"I HAD TO BEG AND PLEAD with Bob to give me all this stuff after I told him I didn't have Tyler's computer files anymore," Shelby said as she slapped a stack of manila folders down on Billy's table.
"What happened to the computer files?" Billy asked. He poured her a cup of coffee, then refilled his and joined her at the table.
Shelby sighed. "Somebody went into my bedroom and erased all the files."
Billy regarded her thoughtfully. "Are you sure you didn't somehow delete them yourself?"
She shook her head. "I'm no computer expert, but I know I didn't delete them. And the hard drive didn't crash, either. All the other files were still there. Only the ones pertaining to the murders were gone. Somebody intentionally erased those. d.a.m.n it, I should have made backup copies. I can't believe I was so stupid." Her gaze met his and she wondered if her fear radiated from her eyes. "Billy, I have to face the fact that somebody in my house, a member of my family, is the swamp serpent."
He gave a quick nod. "Or somebody in your house is protecting the swamp serpent," he added.
"Who would protect such a killer?" she asked, finding little relief in his words. Although she preferred to believe n.o.body in her family was a killer, that one of her own would protect the murderer was just as heinous as actually committing the crimes.
"Somebody who believes in what the killer is doing," Billy answered.
An ache of harsh reality twisted in Shelby's stomach. She thought of her father and his venomous disdain of the swamp community. "All the time I was in Shreveport, I played a game with myself. I'd tell other people how wonderful my family was, how supportive my parents were, how much love there was between me and my siblings. I painted a pretty picture with words that had nothing to do with reality. Reality is somebody in my family might be a killer, and the sad thing is I can't discount anyone." She rubbed the back of her neck, where tension had built to substantial proportions. "G.o.d, to say my family is a mess is an understatement."
Billy stood and circled behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently ma.s.saged. "Having a screwed-up family puts you in good company." His thumbs moved to the base of her skull, working in small circular motions to ease the tightness. "I grew up hearing about the horrors of my parents. I suppose you heard all the stories." His finger pressure increased, although not painful.
"I heard that your father killed your mother, then hung himself in the swamp," Shelby answered softly.
Billy laughed. "Ah, yes, that was the most popular rumor. The only good thing it accomplished was as I was growing up it scared the other kids into leaving me alone. I think they figured if my father was a crazed killer, who knew what I was capable of."
"So, what really happened?" she asked. She reached up and caught his wrists in her hands, stopping the ma.s.sage, wanting to look at him, not have him speak from behind her where she couldn't see his face, try to read his features.
He hesitated a moment, then returned to his chair. "I heard the whispers of my father's madness and crime until I was twelve. In my heart I couldn't believe the stories were true. After all, my father was Mama Royce's son. I couldn't believe she would raise a murderer."
Shelby smiled. "That's the very reason I knew you were innocent. Mama Royce raised you and I knew she couldn't raise a murderer."