Bayou Payback

His hand wrapped around her much smaller one and he held it. Her pulse quickened.

“I’m Andre,” he said, smiling and meeting her gaze before finally letting go of her. “Hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you do great things for that dress.”

“Thank you.”

“Do the Delacroixes always throw such lavish parties?”

“Always.”

He looked around. “They have the perfect mansion for it.”

“The gardens are lovely, too,” Nicole said, “especially this time of the year. You should make time to see them.”

His brows arched. “Is that an offer of a tour?”

“No… . I mean…” She swallowed back a twinge of guilt and a rush of blood that made her positively light-headed. “I would offer, but I have to get back to the party.”

“That’s a gracious brush-off.” He leaned closer and slid his hand across the railing until their fingers touched.

Awareness sizzled.

“I should get back to the party myself, but it was nice meeting you, Nicole.”

“Likewise,” she murmured. She leaned on the railing and watched as he walked away, still reeling from the effect he’d had on her and faced with an undeniable truth.

Lee Barnaby had never excited her senses like that.

REMY WALKED BACK into the house determined to get his mind off the gorgeous redhead and back where it belonged. The woman had ignited so many sparks that he was still feeling the heat.

But he couldn’t act on the attraction. She reminded him far too much of Carlotta, and not just her laugh. It was her hair, her eyes, her enchanting Southern drawl.

Even if he weren’t about to jump into a blazing fire of his making, contacting her would be a mistake. And not fair to either of them, even if she were willing to see him again.

After another ten minutes of searching, Remy spotted Lee at the far end of the ballroom. He looked much the same as he had eight years ago, except that he’d put on a few pounds and his hair had started to gray a bit at the temples. Still, he looked younger than his age, which Remy knew was somewhere in the early fifties.

Remy cleared the few yards between them without Lee noticing him. He was seconds away from showing his face when Lee was joined by the seductive redhead.

Lee turned and slipped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into the cluster of people who surrounded him.

The gesture and the smile she flashed for Lee appeared overly familiar, almost intimate. Remy felt a tightening in his gut. The woman had seemed far too nice to get romantically involved with a dirty rat like Lee—even if he hadn’t been too old for her. Not that it was any of Remy’s business.

Remy stayed out of sight, watching silently until Lee whispered something in the woman’s ear that made her smile. Then the illustrious new NOPD chief turned and walked away.

Following quickly, Remy caught up with him just as he ducked into a small, hallway powder room.

Without breaking stride, Remy blocked the door with his foot before it could close completely. He pushed into the tiny room with Lee, then closed and locked the door behind them.

It was time to get reacquainted.

Chapter Three

“What the hell!”

“Hello, Lee. Nice to see you, too.”

Lee’s muscles flexed, and shock registered in every line of his ruddy face. “What the devil are you doing here, Comeaux?”

“Offering my congratulations. Isn’t that what this celebration is all about?”

“This party is for invited guests. You’re not one of them.”

“I figured the engraved request for my presence got lost in the mail. But you do look surprised to see me.”

“I am. I figured you’d crawled off and died somewhere like the gutter rat you are.”

“No, I just moved on to a higher class of rodents.”

Someone turned the doorknob from the outside.

“Out in a second,” Remy called.

“Get out now,” Lee muttered as the footsteps receded. “If You’re still in town come morning, I’ll have you arrested and thrown back in jail.”

“Same old Barnaby. But threats and intimidation won’t cut it this time. You’re the one who’s going down.”

“Like hell I am. You’re a criminal, Remy, a dirty cop who escaped from jail in the aftermath of a hurricane. No one will believe anything you say.”

“No, but they’ll believe the FBI and solid evidence.”

“None of you have anything on me!”

Lee spit the words at him as if they were curses, but Remy could see the panic bleeding into his eyes. He’d accomplished what he’d come to do tonight—churn up enough anxiety inside Lee to put a serious damper on his moment of triumph.

The worst was yet to come.

“I guess we’ll find out. See you around, Chief. Oh, and don’t worry about the scintillating redhead. I’ll see that she’s well taken care of while you’re behind bars and bonding with the guys you helped send to Angola.”

Lee’s face turned a violent red. Remy braced for a punch, but Lee merely called him a few choice names.

Remy had definitely pushed Lee’s buttons with the mention of the redhead. The possibility that they were lovers galled Remy. He fought to stop it from spoiling the moment as he opened the bathroom door and left Lee to stew in his own well-deserved angst.

Lee had crossed enough lines of law and honor in his career to lock him away indefinitely. FBI agent Ray Storm, with the help of Remy and his former best friend, Detective Mack Rivet, had been close to proving Lee’s guilt before Katrina had smashed Remy’s world like a boot coming down on a rotten banana.

Before Katrina, Remy’s participation in the operation had been professional. Now it was personal. This time he wouldn’t quit until Lee Barnaby had a one-way pass to prison.

The only thing that would stop him would be moving into the Comeaux family mausoleum down in the bayou country where he’d grown up. Lee Barnaby was not beyond seeing that he made that move.

That was why Remy couldn’t let down his guard for a second and why he had to work fast to gather the last shreds of proof. He wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than indisputable evidence that Lee was the most crooked cop to ever wear an NOPD badge.