Degrees of Darkness, page 43
“How’s Kim? Do you know?”
“Still hanging in there.”
“Thank God.” Cody slumped, digging her fingernails into the seat cushion. “I couldn’t stay. It’s too much of a … ” She bit her lip to stop the trembling.
“Reminder? Of your mother?”
Nodding, she tucked her legs under the pew and stared at a spot on the floor.
“I noticed you were shocked about Kim’s adoption.”
She looked at Heath to find him staring at her.
“Did they tell you why they’d kept it hidden?”
“Rich said it was to protect Kim. He claimed the birth mother demanded it be kept secret. And they wanted to keep it that way.” She rocked forward, leaning on the pew in front of them. “But Kim’s an adult now; she has a right to know. To protect herself, if nothing else.”
Contemplation filtered across his features. He faced front again. Cody followed his gaze and zeroed in on the crucifix again.
“For now, honor their request.”
She gaped at him. “Why? It’s not fair to Kim, and its not safe for — ”
He held up his hand. “Cody, it sounds complicated. If she needs to find out. If she’s … ” He hesitated, sympathy evident in his tone when he continued, “If she’s even still here to find out, let them be the ones to tell her.”
Another voice of reason. Odd how they seemed to show up at the right moment, when she needed them the most.
“All right.” A memory hit her. “You know, Remy acted squirrelly after he saw Kim tonight. Liked he’d seen a ghost. I asked him about it, and he brushed it off.”
“Might be nothing.”
Cody crossed her arms on the pew back and settled her chin on her forearms. “Or it could mean something.”
“With him, it’s hard to tell. I know.” Heath touched her shoulder. “You should talk to him.”
“After tonight, why?”
He frowned, then his features relaxed. “We barely know each other, but I consider you a friend. And I look out for my friends.”
She blinked, unsure what to say.
“What’s the status of your relationship with LeBeau?”
“I … care … about him.” If she wasn’t willing to admit to her friends how much, how could she do so to his partner? “But what about him? You see him every day. Is it there for him, too?”
Heath gave her a wry smile. “I’ve never seen a guy more riled up when it comes to a woman, Cody Lewis. If it ain’t a sign, then I don’t know what is.”
She sighed. “That stupid song was right.”
“What song?”
“Love Hurts.”
He chuckled. “Yeah.” He sobered. “I’m serious. Go see him tomorrow. Talk to him.”
“Fine.” She eyed Heath. “You like Kim, dontcha?”
“Little early to say, but we got along all right.”
Cody let a grin cross her lips. “But you like her.”
Heath’s face scrunched, then he shook his head. “Yes, I like her. She’s a gorgeous woman.”
“She’s stubborn, you know. Maybe that’ll keep her alive.”
“She’s a Texan.” He winked. “A little knife wound ain’t gonna stop a Texan.”
His bravado broke her dam. Cody choked, then buried her face in her arms and heaved soul-crushing sobs. Wrapping an arm around her body, Heath pulled her against him and let her drench his shirt.
• • •
The blood-speckled tux lay in a heap in the corner of his bathroom.
Remy sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his Blackberry and the message left by Moreno. It was happening again. His life was systematically being stripped from him, and Remy couldn’t stop it.
He replayed the voice message.
“I swore I made myself crystal clear on how thin of a line you were treading with me, Detective. At this very minute, you’re removed from the McBride case and all other active cases. You have withheld important information and you’ve lied to cover your tracks, involving Detective Anderson in this scheme. You will remain at home tomorrow. On Monday, you’re turning over all your casework.
“I have reported your insubordination to IA and they will investigate further to see if you were at any time concealing evidence. Until they’ve finished, you will be on leave. I expect to see you in my office on Monday.”
A beep signaled the end of the message.
Anderson had held true to his threat. His partner betrayed his trust.
Roughing his damp hair, Remy flipped the phone end over end in his hand, fighting the urge to throw it. Moreno had warned him, but ripping the McBride case from his hands. Candace would get away again. And whoever was behind her — Jared or someone else — would never feel his wrath. Hang Moreno and his orders. Remy tossed his phone on the bed behind him and bent over, driving his fingers through his hair.
“Why did I believe for one minute I could be happy again?”
With a growl, he bolted from the bed and stalked to the spare bedroom. He stared at the door a few minutes before yanking it open.
The box remained on the floor, where it had fallen. He snatched it up and pried the lid off. The diamond and the gold band — stained with blood — winked at him.
A year’s worth of wages saved up to purchase only the best for his Creole Beauty. Marie had shed a few tears when he’d asked her to marry him, then yelled her yes for all of Jackson Square to hear.
Remy hooked his pinky finger in the band and lifted it out of the box. His throat swelled at the memories of Marie.
“A baby, Remy. We’re going to have a baby.”
She had glowed, her eyes shimmering with that announcement. If he focused hard enough, he could almost recall her scent. The soft feel of her skin.
He clenched the ring in his fist and pressed it to his forehead. Squeezing his eyes shut, moisture leaked free.
Her wedding band showed up at his home after her body was discovered floating in the Pontchartrain. A taunt from Jared, to remind Remy of what he’d done and that he wasn’t through with Remy yet. But Jared never got his chance.
Until now.
“I’m sorry, Marie.” Remy’s voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.”
His legs gave out, and he crumpled to the floor on his knees. The box clattered and rolled a few feet away. Hunched over, he really grieved for his deceased wife for the first time in more than five years. And in the middle of his anguish, Cody’s image surfaced. How could he stay with her? He couldn’t survive another loss like the first one. Couldn’t live a moment longer if anything happened to her.
• • •
“Cody, go home.”
She lifted her head and peered at Hillary through slitted eyes, then straightened and rubbed her face. Propping her elbows on the edge of the hospital bed, she cradled her cheek in her hand and stared at her peacefully sleeping friend.
Kim had made it out of surgery fine. Everyone’s quick actions at the gala went a long way in saving her. The surgeon was able to repair the sliced arteries, and the blood transfusion seemed to help.
Once Kim was settled into a private room, Cody had been allowed to come in with Rich and Hillary. At some point she dozed off.
She grasped Kim’s chilled, IV pierced, hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Hillary’s hand settled on Cody’s arm. “You’re no good to her without sleep.” Hillary gave her a squeeze. “Your friend, Detective Anderson, managed to get some guards to watch over Kim.”
Cody frowned. Heath did that? But there had been cops at the gala, too. A fat lot of good it had done Kim.
“I’m too tired to drive home.”
She settled Kim’s hand on the blanket. For the past four hours, she’d drifted in and out as the anesthetic wore off. But Kim didn’t look like Kim. Her makeup was smeared, and blood flecked her chest and arms. Her hair was matted and tangled.
“Cody.”
She faced Hillary, her eyes stinging.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“I know. Can I just stay tonight? Please.”
Sighing, Hillary caressed Cody’s cheek, the way a mom would, and smiled. “I don’t mind. Just get some sleep. Okay?”
Cody nodded and watched Hillary leave the room. Once the door clicked shut behind her, Cody resumed her vigil over her best friend. Cops or no cops, she wasn’t going to let anything else happen to Kim.
The gentle rise and fall of Kim’s chest and the steady beat of her heart at rest soothed Cody. She left her hand over Kim’s and laid her head on the bed’s edge.
The secrets Remy kept from her wouldn’t destroy her life any further. This talk Heath insisted she have with Remy would happen.
And when it did, he was going to tell her everything. Or lose her forever.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Blocks of sunlight patterned the polished hospital hall floor. Cody resisted the urge to mimic a girl playing hopscotch. Oh, to be a child again. To be oblivious to a world filled with scary people. And have the people she loved still alive and with her.
She slowed her pace at the nurse’s station on Kim’s floor. When Rich and Hillary had arrived earlier this morning, Cody gave them their privacy. She was still uncomfortable with their decision to continue keeping Kim’s adoption from her. But Heath was right. It had to be their choice to tell her.
She’d made a quick trip home to shower, eat, and to wish Dad and the rest of the Red Moon ranch hands good luck at the ranch rodeo in Oklahoma, before she returned to Dallas.
She followed the curve of the hall to Kim’s room. The guards nodded at her and she gave them a brief smile. Cody hesitated before entering at the sound of Kim’s light laugh. Then a familiar male voice drifted out. Cody grinned. She should’ve known.
Giving the door a light rap, she pushed it open and peeked in. Kim looked over, and a wide smile lit up her face. Rotating in his chair, Heath nodded to Cody.
“Did you bring them?” Kim asked.
Cody held up the white paper bag. “Are you sure you can eat these?”
Beckoning her closer, Kim snatched the bag out of her hand and pried it open with more zeal than an injured woman should have. “The doctor can take a nosedive off a cliff. I need my daily dose of carbs and sugar.” She extracted a huge Cinnabon roll and bit in to it. Her eyelids fluttered shut. “Joy,” she said around the mouthful.
Heath stood and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, appearing more like a cowboy than a detective at that moment. “I need to get going. Got a large caseload to take care of today.” Backtracking to the door, Heath paused next to Cody. “He’s been put on disciplinary leave.”
Cody’s muscles twitched. “What for?”
“Long story,” he whispered. “He’ll be at home.”
Anxiety gripped her gut. She hadn’t planned to talk to Remy today. Not until she got her feelings figured out.
Cody grunted and found a spot on the wall to examine. After bumping her arm, to her relief, Heath departed without more objections.
“Think I’d have a shot with him?”
Cody watched Kim lick the cream cheese frosting from her fingers. With a sigh, Cody moved closer to the bed. “Hmm, let’s see.” She took Heath’s chair. “You made a horrible first impression, getting cut and nearly bleeding out. Then he just happened to be a suitable blood type match for — ”
Kim straightened and she waved her hand to stop Cody. “Whaddya mean he had the suitable blood type?”
Cody froze. Oh crap, she’d blown it. She swallowed and rubbed damp palms along her pants.
“Didn’t Momma or Daddy have the right blood type?”
“Uh, Kim.” How in the world did she let it slip? Rich might kill her if he found out Kim knew about this. “You have a rare type and with your dad’s health not being — ”
“Yeah, that makes sense. Daddy doesn’t need to be losing anymore blood than he needs. So Momma wasn’t a match?”
“No.” Guilt put a chokehold on Cody’s neck. “But back to Heath. Yeah, you’ve got a shot.”
Kim grinned. “Good. ’Cause as soon as I get out of here and can walk okay, we’re going out.”
“Really?”
Rummaging in the bag again, Kim pulled out the second roll. “Yep.” A wicked gleam passed through her eyes. “And we’re thinking we’ll drag you and Remy with us.”
There might not be a me and Remy anymore. “On your first date. Not likely.”
“Fine, second date.”
“How do you know the first one is going to work?”
Kim licked the cream cheese frosting from her lips. “My gut says it will. Besides, why wouldn’t it? Heath’s down to earth.”
“And a cop, might I add? That situation hasn’t been working too well for me.”
“That’s because you and Remy are two stubborn cusses. I betcha he’s the middle child and first son. Maybe only son.”
Cody gave a derisive snort, then sobered. “Actually, I have no idea if he has any siblings.”
Kim held up a sticky finger. “First indication, he tends to attract attention, whether he wants it or not. Two.” She held up another. “He’s a bit of a manipulator. Probably had his momma eating out of his hand. And three.” She held up a third finger. “He gets what he wants.”
“Those are signs of the youngest child.”
“Not in his case. If you ever get him to talk about his family, you’ll see. Hmm, and if I pegged him right, he was the family troublemaker, too. Probably the rebellious one.”
Cody rolled her eyes. “Even confined to a hospital bed, she’s cocky.”
“Damn right.”
• • •
For the first time in a while, he’d slept like the dead, slumbering until midmorning. Remy woke still lying in the middle of the spare bedroom floor, with Marie’s ring clutched in his fist. The long overdue grief had worn him out.
Showered and dressed, he stood in the center of his kitchen, a full cup of coffee in hand, and stared at the neat stacks of papers strewn across the counter. Each pile represented a connection between him and McBride’s death, including the Humbert case. Somehow it all threaded together. And come hell or high water, Remy would figure out how it all fit together.
The glossy, olive green–and–blue yearbook cover glared at him. Time to unearth a connection between McBride and Paul Dumond.
Remy snatched the book from the counter and settled in his recliner. Between sips of coffee, he turned the pages, studying the pictures and reading the captions. He had never gone to college, instead choosing the police academy and the criminal justice classes required to make detective. Having been called to the out of control frat parties and the game day revelries that developed into riots, he was glad he’d missed it all. There hadn’t been time to party while at the academy, and even if there had, if he’d been caught doing it, he would’ve been kicked out. Why give Marie’s father more reasons for his backlash against Remy.
Remy had kept his nose clean and passed at the top of his class. He was handpicked for his rookie training by the very man who would eventually attempt to kill him. And was expected to be the youngest cop to make NOPD detective. So many high hopes dashed a few short years later.
Halfway through the book, Remy found the first picture of McBride — a shot of him at a meeting for the law school’s lone law club. A young McBride, smartly dressed in a black suit, grinned at the photographer as if he held the world in his grasp. The page blurb revealed nothing more than a roster of members, what the organization did, and how a person was chosen to join. Remy scanned the list of names and didn’t find Paul’s.
Continuing forward, he came to a page for the law school graduates. He skipped to the M’s and located McBride. Once the man got his law degree, he’d returned to Texas and passed the bar. So, how did McBride become connected to Remy’s life?
A few pages further he froze. The youthful man with his arm draped over McBride’s shoulders laughed at the camera and held up his beer bottle. That same face, aged to his sixties, was a face Remy knew well.
Paul Dumond.
Remy swallowed and set his coffee cup down hard on the end table. Here was the connection. How McBride knew about him. And where the money came from to oversee Remy’s disappearance and insertion into Dallas.
By all appearances in the picture, Paul and McBride seemed close. Remy quickly flipped back to the graduate pictures and located his father-in-law’s. Both men finished the same year. He leafed through the rest of the yearbook and found one more picture at the end where the two men were together, in a large group photo of the law graduates. Paul and McBride stood next to each other.
Remy swore. He slapped the book shut and scrubbed his face. Damn it, he’d been right.
Paul had orchestrated everything, from the plan to use Katrina to “kill off” Remy and make him disappear, to using McBride to get Remy a job with the DPD and his condo. The lone reason to do all of it; was to ‘protect’ Remy from the people who sent Jared after him and who had killed Marie. To this day Remy still didn’t have a damn clue why his former father-in-law did it at all, other than saving face with the New Orleans voting public.
Couyan! What a damn fool! Remy growled, tossing the yearbook on the floor, and pushed out of the recliner. Oh, his funeral was probably Paul’s selling point at the next election. How his ‘heroic son-in-law’ perished trying to help the people of New Orleans in the aftermath of Katrina. He bet that the pompous ass had even managed to have the funeral televised.
Remy moved to the breakfast bar and grabbed up the letter from McBride.
He’d been tasked with protecting Remy from those who sought to kill him. Kept his dossier sealed from everyone. And for no reason other than he was paid to do so. It didn’t surprise Remy in the least that Paul had someone else do his dirty work. He hated Remy. He went so far to comment that he wished Marie’s killer had finished him off.
