Give Him the Slip (7 page)

Oh, shit. Dirty cops? In Brazos Bend?

Luke scooped the fork off the floor and dumped it into the
dishwasher, then slammed the damn thing closed. He didn't want to hear another
word. Yet he asked, "What makes you think he was murdered, Maddie?"

"He was fine! It was just panic. I honestly don't know, but
my suspicions are enough to scare me silly. I have their mushrooms, after all.
Gus was another client of mine, and he'd asked me to clean out his lake house
before he listed it with a real estate agent. Gus is... or was... an avid
gardener, so I didn't think anything of finding all the mushrooms."

Luke's stomach did a slow, sickening turn, and it wasn't a result
of bad food. "Stop. Just stop it. I'm going fishing. Remember? Fishing.
Save the rest of it for someone who can help you."

"But—"

"I mean it, Maddie. I'm not getting involved in this. I
can't. I'm sorry about old Gus, I truly am. But I don't have the creds anymore.
I'm not on the job. Save your story for someone who is."

Maddie's mouth flattened into a grim smile, but she handwashed and
dried the wooden-handled barbecue tools in silence. For a time, the only sound
to be heard was the night sounds of the bayou and Knucklehead's peaceful
snores. Thank goodness.

With the galley put to rights, Luke decided to call it a day.
Never mind he hadn't gone to bed this early in months. Years, even. He couldn't
stand here a minute longer looking at her sad, angry eyes. "I'm whipped.
Feel free to stay up as long as you want, but I'm hitting the sack."

His door was halfway closed when her voice floated on the air like
a discordant melody. "They're cops, Luke. What if they kill me, too?"

Luke snarled and slammed the door hard.

"Not gonna go there," he muttered. "Dirty cops are
not my problem."

He shucked off his swim trunks and climbed naked into bed. He
yanked the midnight blue sheet over his hips and put his arm over his eyes.
Think
about tarpon, Callahan. Think about the pull on the line when he takes the
bait. The fight.

He thought of what drug dealers do to people who cross them.
Especially those bastards with the benefit of a badge.

Think about Matt and imported beer and the gentle sway of the boat
at dusk.

He visualized a waterfall of red hair soaked in a pool of blood.

"Son of a bitch." He flipped over onto his stomach and
buried his head in his pillow.

Think of turquoise water. Think of sugar-sand beaches.

He thought of chocolate brown eyes, wide and lifeless.

Luke muttered a string of curses and rolled onto his side. He
pulled the pillow over his head and mentally inventoried the fishing lures in
his tackle box. He worked his way to the bottom, envisioned the boning knife
nestled in a leather sheath, and gave up. "Damn me for an empty-headed
idiot."

He rolled out of bed and headed for the door, pulling on his swim
trunks as an afterthought.

Luke found her sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her bed,
rubbing an ecstatic Knucklehead's belly. She looked up in surprise as he burst
into the room. "Tell me."

Her tongue slipped out of her mouth and ringed her lips. "You
want to know...?"

"Everything. The drugs. The murder. Your involvement."

"And you'll help me?"

"I'm not promising anything. I have to hear your story
first."

She glanced down at the dog, then back up at him. "Then can I
at least have your word that you won't do anything that could hurt me?"

Affronted, his body stiffened. "Hurt you? I'm not the bad guy
here. You came to me, remember? What do you think I'd do to hurt you?"

Maddie's teeth tugged at her lower lip. "Talk. You could tell
the wrong somebody something I'm going to tell you, something that could get me
in trouble. Will you promise me you'll keep this between the two of us,
Luke?"

"All right."

"Oh, jeez," she muttered. "What am I doing? About
to put my faith in a man? Again? You swear it, Luke Callahan? You swear you
won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you? On... on... on Knucklehead's
life?"

Luke sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "Oh, for God's sake,
Maddie. Just tell me what happened, okay? I won't make trouble for you. I'm
going fishing, remember?"

She rose from the floor and sat on the edge of her bed. She wiped
her palms on her bare thighs. "Okay. Well. Like I said, it all started
yesterday morning. I can't believe it was only yesterday. It feels like a year
ago."

Luke thought it might take a year for her to tell her story at
this rate. The golden highlights mixed among the red of her hair glistened in
the lamplight, and even in the seriousness of the moment, he couldn't help but
notice just how damned beautiful she was.

"Early yesterday morning, I cleaned out Gus's lake house and found
the mushrooms. I decided to take them to the farmer's market to sell."

Now, that dragged his attention back to matters at hand. "You
were going to sell psilocybin mushrooms at a farmer's market?"

"I didn't know they were... well... the magic kind. I thought
they were shiitake or some other gourmet variety."

"Jesus." He raked his fingers through his hair, amused
despite himself as he pictured the likes of sour old Mrs. Moody high on magic
mushrooms. "What did the mushrooms look like?"

She bit her bottom lip, then said, "Little penises."

Luke made a strangled sound in his throat.

"Well, that
is
what they look like." She tucked a
loose strand behind her ear as she considered it. "Most of them were tall
and skinny, but I did see some short and fat ones."

"Colors?"

"A bunch of different ones. The ones in the jars were mostly
dark, sort of a dark olive brown, but others were a chestnut rusty color. Some
even had kind of a blue edge or ring. The dried ones in the burlap bags were
sort of yellowish."

"Jars
and
burlap bags?" He braced his hands on
his hips. "Jesus, how much do you have?"

"Lots. All that would fit in my van. I threw away the
rest."

His jaw gaped. "You realize you threw away evidence, don't
you?"

Her eyes flashed with indignation. "I didn't know it was
evidence then! I'm no mushroom expert. The dried ones didn't look any different
from ones for sale in the produce section."

He dismissed it with a wave. "Fine. All right. Then what
happened?"

"I went to another client's home, and then to your father's.
He's been having an awful time with his knees, so in addition to writing the
letters he dictates each day, I've started overseeing his exercises. I make
sure he does them and does them right. I confer with a physical therapist, mind
you, so—"

"Is this relevant?" He didn't need to know a damn thing
about Branch Callahan's daily life.

She let out a huff. "I brought him some mushrooms. I thought
your father's cooks might have a use for them, but the Garza sisters didn't
like the looks of them, so they threw them away. I was in Branch's kitchen when
a friend of mine, a nurse, called me from the hospital, and said Gus had been
admitted and was asking for me."

Maddie repeated Gus's cautions to her and explained how he'd
become so worked up, his blood pressure skyrocketed and the nurses chased her
away. "I went to his house to pick up his robe and toiletries, and that's
when I found it ransacked. I was trying to decide what to do about it when my
cell rang again and my friend told me Gus had died."

"Of a heart attack," Luke clarified.

She nodded. "The doctors were shocked, but when I asked my
friend if they were sure it was natural causes, she assured me it had to have
been. But he'd had visitors, Luke. What would have stopped someone from giving
him something to cause a heart attack?"

"That's a stretch."

"Maybe, but I don't think I want to risk my life on it."

Luke grimaced and raked his fingers through his hair. "So,
how did you end up at Caddo Bayou Marina?"

"I left Brazos Bend on the run just to get out of town. I'd
been on the road for hours, pretty much driving aimlessly, when Branch called
and suggested I come to Terry for help."

What a mess. Luke smothered a sigh. "Where are the mushrooms
now?"

"In my trunk. Well, not the trunk. I don't have a trunk. I
drive a minivan because of my work. I think you saw it in the parking lot.
They're in the back of my van." After a moment's pause, she frowned and
added, "You know, they're liable to cook in this heat. I probably should
have cracked a window."

He stared up at the ceiling. "So, let me see if I have this
straight. Yesterday morning you loaded your minivan with mushrooms from Gus
Grevas's lake house, then you went about your workday until Gus summoned you to
his hospital room where he warned you about the cops."

"That's right."

"Then you found his house searched, Gus died, and you took
off headed... where?"

"Just away. I told you all this already. I didn't have a
destination in mind until your father called and told me to go to Caddo
Bayou."

"And you drove all night, parked your car at the marina,
trespassed on my boat, and fell asleep."

"Basically, yes."

Luke rubbed the back of his neck. "So the minivan back at the
marina is filled with six million dollars' worth of sun-cooked psilocybin
mushrooms?"

Maddie shook her head. "Not six million. Remember, I threw
some of them away. I'm guessing four."

"And the growers just might be cops who may have murdered a
helpless old man in Brazos Bend and who are now after you."

"That's right."

Wrong. Her story was unbelievable, like something out of a bad
B-movie. Like one of the scenarios Branch Callahan had cooked up in his futile
efforts to reconcile with Luke, Matt, and Mark. It reminded Luke of that time
Branch sent a gorgeous hooker disguised as a kindergarten teacher to Matt's
place with some cockamamy story about Matt's providing the prize for the
teacher-of-the-year winner. Or his salvo at Mark, some complicated scenario
involving stolen family jewels and a lady detective wanting to check those of
his brother.

No, Maddie's story was just another Branch Callahan fantasy tale.

Luke's gaze swept her from head to toe once again, lingered on her
bosom once again; then his features flattened into a grim expression of
disgust. Mushrooms and murder. Crooked cops and a runaway damsel in distress.
It was simply too damned far-fetched for a sleepy little place like Brazos
Bend, Texas.

Branch must have been watching the afternoon soaps again to come
up with a fairy tale like this one.

The fact that Branch had conned Maddie into weaving a story about
a dead Gus Grevas, though, was over the top even for his old man. The rotten
old bastard. Wouldn't he ever learn?

Now Luke was really pissed. He'd almost fallen for it, dammit.
Fallen for her act. "Oh, this is rich. The old man is really reaching to
think he'd put this over on me. Instead of a hooker, he sends a fake damsel in
distress to pull on my heartstrings. Well, guess what, babe. I don't have a
heart. Good night."

Maddie's mouth gaped in shock. In all the scenarios she'd imagined
regarding Luke Callahan's reaction to her story, she'd never considered that he
might not believe her.

Considering her previous experience with law enforcement, that had
been a stupid oversight on her part.

How foolish of her to think a man the likes of Luke Callahan would
help her. After all, he'd been estranged from his father for a very long time.
Sure, Branch was difficult, even ornery, but Maddie knew all about difficult
fathers. Shoot, she had the king of difficult fathers, but she didn't let his
bad behavior ruin their relationship.

The fact that Luke hadn't tried to repair things with his father
didn't speak well of Luke Callahan's character.

No, she'd done it again. She'd listened to her heart and her
hormones instead of her head. Good God, would she never learn? Luke Callahan
had been a hell-raiser in high school. He remained to this day the role model
for bad-boy wannabes in Brazos Bend. He was Rip and Liam and Cade all over again.

After the fallout from Cade, Maddie had believed herself cured her
of bad-boy-desire disease forever. Well, she'd been wrong. Dead wrong. And
worse, she'd been stupid.
For crying out loud, Maddie. When will you ever
learn?

Anger roared through her, furious and hot. Luke Callahan was
nothing more than a jerk. A class-A, number one jerk!

But, by God, she wasn't the only one who could lay a claim to
stupid. She pushed to her feet and stomped toward his cabin, not pausing to
knock. She shoved the door open.

He lay naked on his back on the bed. On top of the sheets. His
pillow over his head. It was a sign of the intensity of her anger that her gaze
barely lingered on his crotch. "You know, Callahan, your father told me
you were stubborn, but he never mentioned stupid."