A Storm Front Novel

“Oh.”

Cari grimaced. “‘Oh’ is right. But it wasn’t until after the tornado when I found Susan that…this occurred to me. No one in Bordelaise knew she’d driven down for the night. And her car was the only one that hadn’t been damaged in the tornado. Her face was…” Cari bit her lip, struggling with her composure. “We’re the same size. Same color hair and hairstyle. And we’d both been wearing white T-shirts and jeans. Lance had seen me earlier, so when I put my coat on her body, I did it hoping she’d be identified as me. It might have been the wrong thing to do, but I was hurt and needed time to think. Lance had already killed once. He would have no problem getting rid of the only witness to his crime.”

“What a mess,” Mike muttered.

“You have no idea,” Cari said, then closed her eyes. She didn’t intend to keep them closed, but a combination of meds and exhaustion soon pulled her under.

Mike watched Carolina drifting in and out of consciousness, and was surprised by the strong connection he felt. Maybe it was because she looked so much like Susan. And maybe it was because of the courage and ingenuity she’d shown in such a dangerous situation.

Courage was something he admired.

Over the years, Michael Boudreaux had become a force to be reckoned with in business, but in his youth, he’d been just another kid on the streets of Baton Rouge. His grandparents had still been alive, clinging to former glory in their old plantation house outside of the city, while his mother and father held regular jobs. His father had worked for a manufacturing company, while his mother had been a pre-school teacher. As the “pretty boy” in his classes, he’d often had to prove his worth with his fists. As a result, he learned the true meaning of courage, and to never be the first one to quit—–at anything.

It was that attitude that made him so formidable in his own career. His parents had died within a year of each other while he was in college. His grandparents had passed a couple of years later. He’d inherited the run-down plantation, as well as the row house in the city where he’d grown up, and now he was completely alone in the world.

When he was twenty-two, he sold the little row house for a tidy sum to a company that needed land to expand, then he invested the money. One thing had led to another, until years passed and he had become known as what some might call a corporate shark. He did what he did without apology, but he did it while maintaining his hometown residency in Baton Rouge.

Mike could have lived an opulent lifestyle in any of the country’s big cities, with limousines and fine dining, and beautiful women at his beck and call, but he’d chosen not to. He was tall and lean, with black hair and green eyes, and a stubborn streak inherited from his Cajun ancestors. And when he’d made his first million dollars, he’d renovated the old Boudreaux plantation outside of Baton Rouge and had lived there ever since. He traveled all over the world when job and duty called, but his roots ran deep in the Louisiana bayous.

For the past few years, Susan Blackwell had been a large part of his life. Now he had to face that she was gone. Sad for himself, and for the woman before him, he laid a hand on her arm.

Cari stirred as she felt his touch. When she opened her eyes, their gazes locked. Hers was unflinching. And in that moment, Mike made a promise.

“I’ll help you through this. I’ll make sure you stay safe.”

Cari sighed, then bit the inside of her lip to keep from crying. “Then you need to start by calling me Susan.”

“Right,” Mike said, then stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets. “For now, just know I’ve got your back.”

A huge weight had suddenly been lifted from Cari’s shoulders. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do…for Susan,” Mike said, as his voice broke.

Tears welled again, but Cari blinked them away. “For Susan,” she echoed.

At that point the nurse came back and shot a syringe full of something into Cari’s IV. A few minutes later, Cari was out.

But Mike wasn’t sleeping. He’d made a promise, and he didn’t make those lightly. He was already on a mission to find out all he could about Lance Morgan. Finding Morgan’s weakness would be the first step in learning the identity of the man he’d murdered, which would also be the first step in making sure Carolina North stayed alive.

By the time Lance reached Bordelaise, it was obvious the tornado’s damage was widespread. Houses were missing roofs. Trees were down everywhere, as were a large number of power lines. Even a cell phone tower had been twisted into a tangle of wire and metal, probably the reason he’d been unable to reach 911.

Main Street was a melee of cop cars, ambulances and fire trucks from at least half a dozen neighboring communities. It was obvious that the tornado had been on the ground when it came through town. The courthouse and nearby jail had taken direct hits, as had a grocery store, a lawyer’s office and a beauty shop. He didn’t know where to go to notify rescue services about the Norths.

Finally, when he’d driven as far as he could go, he parked, then started walking. Then someone called his name.

“Hey! Lance!”

He turned around. It was Lee Tullius, one of the parish police officers, standing by a panel van. Lance started toward him at a jog.

“Thank God you’re here!” Lee said. “We need some able-bodied volunteers to help move residents from the nursing home into the hospital.”

“I’ll be glad to help,” Lance said. “But I came into town to report three deaths.”

Lee paused, then put down the cots he’d been unloading. “Who and where?”

“Out at the Norths. Frank, Maggie and Cari are all dead. I drove over there right after the storm and…”

His voice broke. He didn’t have to fake the tears in his voice and eyes.

Lee knew Lance and Cari had once been a couple, and that they’d grown up together.

“Well, damn. I’m really sorry to hear that,” he said, then gritted his teeth. “This might sound cruel, but right now, we’re trying to focus on the living.”

“But they’re just…they’re lying out in the open. Birds…animals…just anything could get them.”

Lee sighed, picturing the pretty, dark-haired girl he’d known who’d grown up to become a famous writer, then palmed his radio. “Tullius here. Over.”

Vera Samuels, the daytime dispatcher at the police department, picked up. “Go ahead, Lee. Over.”

“Got a report of three dead bodies at the Frank North farm southeast of Bordelaise. Need them picked up ASAP. Over.”

Vera started to cry. “All of them? Over.”

“Ten-four,” Lee said. “We need the bodies retrieved before the animals get to them. Over.”

“Oh my God…I went to school with Cari,” Vera said, as she struggled to speak through tears.

“So did I,” Lee responded. “Get some people out there, and get them back as fast as possible. I’m afraid they won’t be the only ones. Over.”

“Ten-four and out,” Vera said.

Lee hooked the handheld back onto his belt loop and then looked at Lance.

“Mission accomplished. Now, about the nursing home…”

“Right,” Lance said, and started down the street at a lope.

By the time the last residents of the nursing home had been moved to the hospital, Lance was muddy and sick to his stomach. One old fellow, a man named Warren, had died in his arms on the way out of the building. Because the man was wheelchair-bound, Lance had been forced to pick him up and carry him through the debris-strewn hallways. He hadn’t known the guy was dead until he went to put him down on a gurney outside to be taken to the hospital.

“This one’s gone,” the EMT said.

Lance’s eyes had widened in disbelief. “That’s impossible,” he said. “He was talking to me when I picked him up.”

“Too much stress and strain,” the EMT said. “Don’t worry about it. No one’s going to blame you.”

Maybe not for this one, Lance thought, and once again, accepted his unbelievable luck that Cari North had perished only minutes after walking up on him in the act of hiding a crime. He shook off the shock and nervously swiped his hands down the front of his shirt.

“He was the last one on that wing,” Lance said.

The EMT nodded. “Then he’s the last one period,” he said. “Report back to the town square. It’s where emergency services has set up office. I’m sure someone else could use your help. We also have a missing kid.”

“Oh, no, who?” Lance asked.

“J.R. and Katie Earle’s little boy, Bobby.”

Lance tried to remember what the little boy looked like but couldn’t. All he could do was shake his head as he walked away. On the way back downtown, he tried his cell phone again, as he had been doing off and on, checking to see if they’d restored reception. To his relief, the connection bars finally showed up.

After what had happened, he knew his brother, Joe, who lived in Savannah, would be frantic. He wanted to let him know he was okay, and that Morgan’s Reach had survived the storm. But before he could punch in the number, his phone suddenly rang.

He saw the caller ID and then bit his lip as emotion swamped him. It was Joe. His voice was thick with tears as he answered.

“Joe, I was just about to call you. I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“Thank the Lord,” Joe said. “I’ve been trying to call you for hours.”

“The lines have been down all day. I just now was able to get a connection.”

“Where were you when the tornado hit? Is the house okay? What about the livestock?”

Lance could hardly admit he’d been burying a dead body.

“I was out, but on the property. By the time it passed and I could get home, I was afraid the house had taken a hit. However, we were lucky. It has some damage, but nothing serious. A few missing shingles, barn’s missing a corner of the roof, and there are some windows broken. Otherwise, we were fortunate.”

“Thank goodness,” Joe said. “What about Bordelaise?”

Lance hesitated and took a deep breath. Telling Joe the news was going to be as difficult as finding the Norths’ bodies.

“It got hit pretty bad. A lot of the buildings around the town square are gone or damaged beyond repair. The nursing home was also damaged. The back of the jailhouse was hit. And someone just told me there’s a missing child.”

“Lord, Lord,” Joe whispered. “I can’t believe it!”

“That’s not all,” Lance said.

“What?” Joe asked, the sense that something awful had happened clear in his voice.

“The North property took a direct hit. There isn’t a building standing, and… Joe…”

“Yeah?”

“Frank, Maggie and Cari…they’re all gone.”

“What do you mean, gone? As in they weren’t there when it happened?”

“No, Joe. They’re dead.”

There was a long moment of what was probably stunned silence, then Lance could hear Joe crying.

“It’s awful, Joe. I was the one who found them.”

“Oh, Lance…I’m so, so sorry,” Joe said. “I’ll get the first flight out and be there as soon as possible. Don’t worry. Whatever happens, we’ll get through this together, just like we did when Mom and Dad died.”

“Thanks, Joe. If I’m not home when you get here, I’ll be in Bordelaise. They need all the help they can get.”

“Take care of yourself,” Joe said. “You’re all I’ve got.”

The line went dead in Lance’s ear. He dropped his cell phone in his pocket, then swiped at the tears on his cheeks. There was still so much to be done before the world stopped spinning.

Three

Cari woke just as a nurse walked into her room.

“Good morning, Susan. My name is Tammy Bowen. I’ll be your nurse today. Did you sleep well last night?”

“Off and on,” Cari said.

Tammy frowned. “You should have asked for something to help you sleep. Rest is important to healing.”

“I’ll remember that,” Cari said. “Right now I need to go to the bathroom.” But when she started to sit up, the room started spinning. “Yikes,” she said, and grabbed the bed rails to keep from falling.

Tammy quickly moved to her side. “Careful, dear. Let me help you.”

Cari gratefully accepted the offer. By the time she came out, the nurse had a sink of warm water waiting for her to wash her face and hands.

The simple act turned out to be more difficult than Cari expected. Between the IV still in her arm and the dizzy spells she kept having, she wound up with almost as much water on the front of her gown as on her face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tammy said, as Cari brushed uselessly at the wet streaks on her gown. “I’ll get you a dry one after your bath.”

“Thank you,” Cari said. “I’m sorry to be so helpless.”

Tammy smiled as she helped Cari back to bed.

“Honey, if you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here, remember?”

Cari managed to return the smile. “It’s just that I’m usually the one doing the helping.”

“So now you know how others feel who need help.” Tammy added, “What you need to do is quit worrying and concentrate on getting better.”

“You’re right,” Cari said. “Thank you.”

Tammy fussed with the sheets as Cari settled against the pillows. “Hang on, Susan. I’m going to raise the head of your bed a little bit. Your food will be coming soon.”

It was the name Susan that reminded Cari of what lay ahead, and with that realization came the pain.

Tammy noticed Cari’s change in mood as she turned on the television. “Do you need anything for pain? Doctor left orders. Don’t try to be brave and do without. It just slows down your healing.”

Cari knew the meds would make her sleepy, but in the grand scheme of things, she supposed sleeping was a better way to pass the time than being awake and crying, which made everything hurt worse.

“I guess,” Cari said.

At that point an aide entered, carrying a tray with Cari’s breakfast.

“Oh look, breakfast is here,” Tammy said with professional cheer. “Eat while it’s hot. I’ll be right back with your meds.”

Cari’s stomach lurched as she eyed the food. It certainly didn’t look like her mother’s cooking. And the moment she thought it, her vision blurred. Trying to focus on something besides the memory of her parents’ bodies amid the tornado debris, she reached for the button on the side of her bed and upped the volume on the TV. She scanned several channels until she found local news, then listened absently while poking at the food without eating it.

It wasn’t until she heard the word Bordelaise that she realized the story was a report on the aftermath of yesterday’s storm. She focused in on the video clip, immediately recognizing the town square—or what was left of it—then turning her attention to what the on-site reporter was saying.

“As of 7:00 a.m. this morning, there have been four confirmed deaths from yesterday’s tornado. Twenty-nine people have been hospitalized with injuries of varying severity, and one seven-year-old boy is still missing. Authorities have yet to confirm that his absence is due to the storm. The parents have been divorced for almost a year, and at this time, the authorities have not been able to locate the father, which has led to suspicions of family abduction.

“The town itself has been devastated. Court was in session when the courthouse was hit. The nearby jail was also heavily damaged. Four prisoners who had been incarcerated there are still unaccounted for. As you can see from this clip, several farms in the surrounding area were also destroyed. This house, which was southeast of Bordelaise, was leveled, and all three occupants were killed.”

Cari shuddered. The footage they were showing from the air was of her home—or what was left of it. Seeing the devastation from this perspective was even more shocking. Part of the smokehouse roof was in the pasture on the far side of her car. She was heartsick, wondering if her parents’ bodies had been recovered when this footage had been shot.

Trying hard not to start weeping again, she reached for her orange juice and took a sip. Anything to shift her focus from the overwhelming need to cry. Then the door to her room opened and Mike Boudreaux walked in.

It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed how handsome he was, and how well he wore his clothes, which today happened to be khaki-colored slacks and a navy blue polo shirt. She would have guessed that, as a teenager, some might have called him too pretty for a boy. But age had lent a measure of character to his face, honing angles and tightening muscles, and turning him into a very handsome man. Still, what he looked like was the last thing she needed to be thinking about.

Mike didn’t know what had preceded his arrival, but he didn’t need to look twice to see what was going on. Between the tears in Carolina’s eyes, the uneaten food on her tray and what she was watching on television, she was seconds away from a meltdown.

“Good morning,” he said, then leaned over the bed and turned off the TV. “How did you sleep? You aren’t eating your food, but on second thought, from the looks of your tray, smart move.”

Cari’s misery shifted to fury when the television screen went dark. How dare he come in and start directing her life? She didn’t answer to him. If she wanted to spend the day bawling, it was her right. She was the one who’d lost her whole family. She was the one trying to dodge a killer.

Mike saw the anger spreading over her face and knew hysterics had been averted when she picked up her fork and pointed it at him.

“Thank you so much for stopping by. Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out,” she said.

It was all he could do not to grin. She was amazing. Carolina North might be down, but she was definitely not out. She might look like Susan, but she sure didn’t act like her. Susan had been a phenomenal assistant, but she never would have stood up to him like this. He watched as Carolina stabbed her fork into the food and took a bite of what were most likely tasteless scrambled eggs, eating as if they were the best thing she’d ever put in her mouth just because he’d implied the food was inedible. She spread jelly on the soggy toast and then ate until it was gone, all the while ignoring his presence.

Satisfied that his ruse had worked, Mike watched her without comment. She might hate his guts, but for the moment, he would gladly bear the brunt of her anger. When she’d finished her meal, he decided to add a new topic.

“The doctor is releasing you today.”

The news was not unexpected, but at the same time, it was a little unsettling. Here, Cari felt safe. Once she was out on her own again, there were big decisions to make.

“Good,” she said.

“But he doesn’t recommend you stay on your own…at least not for the first week. I am issuing an invitation for you to come to my house. I know I ticked you off, but there was a reason behind it.” His voice softened. “I’m sorry I was so damn bossy, but do you still feel like crying?”

Cari eyed the man with new appreciation as it began to soak in why he’d been so pushy.

“No, I don’t. I guess I should say thank-you, both for your empathy and your offer.”

“So…will you accept?” Mike asked.

“At the risk of sounding unappreciative, I really don’t have a choice. This is the first time in my life that I’ve been so completely at the mercy of others. I will come stay with you, and I thank you for the offer.”

Mike thrust his hand forward.

“Truce?”

Cari clasped it carefully.

He nodded, satisfied that all was going according to plan. “I’m going down to the business office to settle your bill. When I come back we’ll—”

“Wait!” Cari said. “You don’t need to do that. I have money.”

Mike shook his head. “No. Carolina North had money. Susan has money, too, but I don’t think you’ve thought through the legal liabilities of your impersonation. You can’t spend Carolina’s money, because everyone thinks she’s dead, and right now you want them to go on thinking that. You can’t spend Susan’s money, because that would be theft, as well as fraud.”

Cari groaned. “I hadn’t thought of it from that standpoint.”

Mike gently touched the bandage on the side of her head. “That’s because you’ve got a monumental boo-boo on your thinker.”

“A boo-boo on my thinker?”

Mike grinned. “My nearest neighbors have a three-year-old. He’s one of my favorite people. I was borrowing some of his vocabulary to cheer you up.”

Cari wondered if he knew how sexy he looked when he grinned, then ignored the thought. “Once again, I find myself thanking you for your generosity and compassion.”

“No biggie,” Mike said, and handed her a business card. “This has my cell number, in case I’m not here when the doctor makes his rounds and gives you your marching orders. Just call me. I’ll come pick you up.”

Cari took the card, then glanced up, studying the set of his jaw and the cut of his cheekbones. He looked like a man used to getting his way. Still, she was grateful.

“Thank you, Mike.”

“You’re welcome, tough stuff.”

Cari frowned. “Tough stuff?”

“I can’t call you Carolina, for obvious reasons, and I’m not going to call you Susan. I call it like I see it, and you, my lady, are tough with a capital T.”

Cari blinked. “Was that a compliment or a criticism?”

“In the business world, they call me a corporate shark, because I do what I have to do to make something feasible and profitable, even when it’s at others’ expense. I don’t feel guilty for it. I’m not responsible for the mess the company I’m buying is in. They got there all by themselves. I’m just saving them from financial ruin in a way that works for me, too. You’re doing what you have to do to keep yourself safe, and at the same time, you’re seeking justice for a man you don’t know, all at your own risk. In my book, that makes you damn tough…and quite a woman.”

Cari felt her face getting hot, and the look in his eyes made her nervous. “Thanks,” she said, and then quickly looked away.

Mike knew he’d said enough. “So…is there anything you need?”

“I don’t have any clean clothes. Susan’s suitcase was in her car, but I don’t know where that is.”

“They towed it. I’ve already gotten it out of the impound yard. It’s parked at my house, but I put the suitcase in my car, figuring it would come in handy, so I’ll bring you up a change of clothes. And since the key to her apartment was on her key ring, I’ll take you by her house after you’re released, so you can get some of her things.”

Cari shuddered, just thinking of going through Susan’s clothes.

Mike noticed her reaction, then winced. “I’m sorry. That was unfeeling of me, to assume you wouldn’t mind wearing Susan’s belongings. If you’ll write down your sizes, I’ll go get some new things for you myself.”

Tears welled once more, but Cari managed to maintain her emotions. “That’s not necessary. Susan wouldn’t care, and if the situation were reversed, she would wear mine.”

“Okay, but don’t hesitate to let me know if you change your mind.”

Cari squinted her eyes, as if judging him anew. “Thank you for understanding.”

“I’ll be waiting for your call,” he said, then left.

She shoved aside the tray table with the congealing leftovers, and then nestled down into her pillows as the door closed behind him. It felt as if Mike Boudreaux had taken all the energy in the room with him. Weary from too much thinking and too many meds, she closed her eyes.

Just to rest.

She was still asleep when the doctor came in on rounds.

After a whirlwind of orders she didn’t remember, she dressed in the clothes Mike had left at the nurses’ station. A short while later, she’d been properly discharged and was down in the lobby, sitting in a wheelchair with an orderly at her side, waiting for her ride.

Her head was throbbing. Every time she moved, something hurt. She was still waiting for her latest pain meds to kick in when she saw Mike drive up.

“There’s my ride,” she said, pointing to the gleaming black Cadillac just pulling under the breezeway. The orderly began pushing her toward the exit, but Cari’s gaze was fixed on the man striding purposefully toward the doors.