CATCH ME IF YOU CAN Read online

  He glanced over at Kit and wondered how she was at taking dictation. He wouldn't mind sharing his desk with her. Of course, they probably wouldn't get much work done…

  "Beau, can you come by the shop this afternoon sometime?"

  "Hmm?" His fantasy crashed to a halt and he glanced up from the coffee cup he was staring into. Jolene gave him an odd look. He cleared his throat. "The shop?"

  "I'm redecorating and could use some help moving the racks. And I really need advice on the new wall colors. I just can't choose between the rose, the mauve or the apricot. They're all so pretty…"

  He sighed inwardly. He loved his sister dearly, but sometimes her helplessness was a bit suffocating. It was his responsibility to take care of her, though. "Can we make it tomorrow? I've got to go to the station today and catch up."

  "I could take a look for you, Jo." Doug gazed at her adoringly and Beau clamped down on his blood pressure.

  "Aren't you on duty all day, Doug?" he admonished his starry-eyed assistant, and turned to his sister. "I could probably make it after breakfast tomorrow. Is that all right?"

  "Perfect." She leaned over the corner of the table and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Why don't you bring Katherine?"

  Kit's head came up from studying her ham and grits. "Oh, I really don't know a thing about racks or colors."

  "Don't be silly. All women know about colors," Dori stated with conviction.

  Beau smiled pleasantly. "Naturally she'll be with me. I wouldn't dream of leaving her out here all alone. Too dangerous."

  Kit shook her head, and he could almost hear the gears turning as she tried to come up with a suitable excuse not to go with him. "I've, uh, got nothing to wear."

  "What's wrong with what you've got on?" he queried innocently, prompting a withering glare from her.

  "Oh, you poor dear. Of course you didn't have a chance to pack." His mama made sympathetic noises.

  "I did, but with clothes for Las Vegas, not Verdigris."

  "Las Vegas? I don't understand."

  Before he could stop her, Kit said, "That's where Beau and I met."

  Every eye swiveled accusingly in his direction. Wonderful.

  Dori paled, looking from him to Kit and back. "Las Vegas?"

  Before speculation could become too wild, he informed them, "I was following a lead from New Orleans."

  "On what case?" Doug asked, frowning. "We don't—"

  "Something I'm working on on my own."

  From the corner of his eye Beau could see his sister's face go from puzzled to amused. Hell. He wasn't about to let that alligator loose. He turned back to Kit. "I can probably dig up a pair of jeans that'll fit you. And Jolene can lend you a couple of blouses, can't you, chère?"

  Jolene nodded, her eyes twinkling annoyingly. "Of course. And Katherine can pick out some things at the shop, too."

  "You're very kind," Kit said, "but that's not necessary—"

  "What a good idea!" his mama said, getting caught up again in the subject of clothes. "She'll need something to wear to the Wiltons' party on Saturday night. How long did you say she was staying, Beau?"

  "At least a week."

  "I'll be leaving today," Kit said at the same time.

  He pinned Kit with his most authoritative mien. "At least a week, Mama. It'll take that long to track down—"

  "Beau, you know I have work to do," Kit said, her expression growing as mulish as his. "I can't just sit here hiding out—"

  "Deputy Wardlaw and I will take care of your assignment. I'm not letting you leave while you may still be in danger."

  "I appreciate your offer, but I can take care of myself. We've been through this before, Beaulieux. You can't keep me here if I don't want to stay."

  Dieu, she was maddening. Why wouldn't she just let him take care of her the way everyone else did? Was it so wrong to want to keep her safe? He had to talk her into staying; he didn't have time to shadow her back to New Orleans, which was what he'd have to do if she left.

  "You need me," he rasped. "You'll never find him on your own."

  "Who?" The others chorused.

  Kit gripped the edge of the table. "Of all the arrogant… How do you think I traced him to Vegas? Dumb luck? Seems to me I did at least as well as you did."

  "And what if he starts shooting again?"

  "Who?" They chorused again.

  "So you admit it was him!"

  His voice rose. "No! I do not admit it was him. But it must be connected somehow. It stands to reason."

  "There's only one way to find out, and that's to find him. Which is exactly what I intend to do."

  "Give me four days," he demanded.

  She stubbornly crossed her arms. "No."

  "Take my office. Use the computer, call Ricky. You can do whatever you need to from here."

  "What about a car?"

  "No way. I'll drive you wherever you need to go."

  "You don't have time! Your schedule is already packed, in case you hadn't noticed."

  "I'll clear it," he boomed.

  His mama cut in worriedly. "Now, dear, if Miss Colfax doesn't want your help…"

  He looked around the table at the ring of stunned faces. They had probably never seen him so agitated, and certainly he hadn't ever argued like this in all his born days. What had happened to the calm and rational Beau they all knew?

  Ever since he'd met this infernal woman he'd been acting completely out of character. What was it about her that set him off every time? If she didn't want his help, he should just forget about her. Why couldn't he just let it alone?

  He didn't even want to think about the answer to that one. He took a deep breath and unclenched his jaw, trying to appear reasonable. "Two days, Kit. If we don't have some answers by then, I'll drive you to New Orleans myself."

  When she still hesitated, Jolene said, "Please say you'll stay, Katherine. I don't know what this is all about, but my brother always keeps his word."

  He wanted to grab his sister in a hug. Kit could hardly refuse that sincere bid. Sure enough, she reluctantly gave in, at least a little.

  "Thank you, Jolene. I would love to stay tonight. But tomorrow I really have to get back to New Orleans."

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  « ^ »

  "Thank goodness that's settled," Dori said, rising from the breakfast table. "I must get Delia to make you up a room."

  Kit smiled her thanks, bracing herself for the next round. "That won't be necessary," Beau replied, casually nabbing a beignet from the platter. "We arrived last night. Katherine is already in the yellow room."

  Dori dropped back into her chair, her eyes wide with disbelief. "The yellow room? But that's for… Oh, Beau, what are you saying? Surely, it's not—"

  "Don't worry, Mama. Delia worked wonders getting it ready. Not a speck of dust in sight, isn't that right, Katherine?"

  She had hoped to stay out of this. "If your mother thinks I should be in a different room, I'd be more than happy—"

  "This is the only practical arrangement. I can't protect you unless you are close by."

  Kit glanced at Dori, who looked as if she might expire any second from an emotion Kit couldn't quite identify. "But—"

  "Subject closed, darlin'. Now, Mama, don't go getting the vapors on me. It's just for a few days." He deposited a kiss on his mother's cheek. She sighed, but seemed to regain her composure from contact with her son.

  "One day," Kit corrected.

  "I have a pile of work to get through before lunch," he said, deliberately ignoring her comment. "Come up to the office when you're done with breakfast. It's on the other side of my room." He motioned to Doug. "Can I have a word with you, Deputy?"

  And then he was gone. Kit bit her lip and smiled at Jolene and Dori. "I'm really sorry about all this. I didn't want to—"

  "Don't be silly. I'm so glad you're staying," Jolene assured her. Kit didn't quite believe it, but was grateful for the kindness.

  Jolene looked so fragile an
d beautiful with her delicate face and porcelain skin, and Dori was the epitome of a sophisticated lady, all coiffed and turned out to perfection. Even Gunny was refined and elegant in his eccentricity, with his smooth Southern manners and intriguing limp. Kit had behaved so horribly, given the impression of such an ungrateful wretch, she wanted to crawl under the table and hide.

  She put down her fork and sighed. "I know Beau is just trying to help, and I was terribly rude to him. I guess I'm used to taking care of myself."

  "Well, he can be a bit overwhelming, my dear," said Dori, patting her hand. "He likes taking charge. My advice is to save your breath and let him." She checked her watch. "Gracious, I will be late for the charity bazaar meeting if I don't dash."

  Jolene smiled. "I have to get ready to go to the shop. Come, walk me to my room and I can give you those blouses."

  "Thanks. I really should get started on some work, too."

  "What do you do?" Jolene asked as they left the dining room and headed for the stairs. "Some kind of law enforcement?"

  "Insurance investigator. But not for long, I fear."

  "Planning to quit?" Jolene cast her a sidelong glance.

  "Not by choice. If I don't solve the case I'm on, I'll get canned at the end of the month. Downsizing." She shook her head in disgust. "How they expect to— Oh, my Lord!"

  Earlier, Beau had brought her down via the back staircase. Now she and Jolene emerged into the foyer at the main entrance to the house. The splendor of the sight literally took Kit's breath away. She stopped in her tracks and gazed up at the grand circular staircase, which soared up to the second floor amidst crystal chandeliers and gleaming banisters. "It's like something out of Gone with the Wind."

  "It is rather pretty, isn't it? Wasn't always like this, though," Jolene explained as she took Kit's hand and led her up the stairs. "Grandpère died young, and after Father's war injury, there were some very lean times. It wasn't until Beau stepped in and took over that things improved. Once he got the family out of debt, he's been slowly restoring the plantation."

  "He's done a remarkable job. Everything is gorgeous," Kit said, taking in the beautiful moldings and Oriental rugs.

  "Oh, it's not nearly finished. He still has his own apartments to do, for instance. He's waiting until he marries."

  Kit let that one go by without comment. The dutiful sister was fishing, and she had no intention of going for the bait. Not that there was anything for her to worry about on that score. If she'd had any doubts before of the inflexibility of Beau's situation, this sight banished them completely.

  Jolene halted at the top of the stairs and turned to her. "That is, unless he's already married."

  Kit stared at her uncomprehendingly.

  "Well, you two were in Las Vegas…"

  Kit blinked. "Us? You mean me?" She almost fell backward down the stairs. Catching the banister, she laughed. "Not likely." Then she remembered her manners and hurriedly said, "Don't get me wrong, your brother is a wonderful man and all, but I don't have plans to get married anytime soon. In fact, ever."

  Jolene tilted her head and studied her. "But all the women want to marry Beau."

  "Well, not this one. I'm not cut out for marriage. Too restricting. I have a career, I like my independence…" She looked around at the opulence surrounding her and added, "I'm more the condo type, anyway."

  The other woman took her arm and led her to a set of double doors at one side of the huge landing. "It's just a house, Kit. What matters is if you love each other."

  Before she could even think of how to answer that, Jolene had disappeared through the doors. "Coming?"

  Love? Beau's little sister clearly had her head in the clouds. Her long black hair and flowing white dress made her look more like a storybook princess than a mortal being, and her ideas were just as fanciful.

  No, love had nothing to do with this situation. Beau was a take-charge man who ran everything around him with an iron hand. He'd decided Kit was just one more person who needed running. But she had no intention of going down that road again. No way.

  "How did you know I go by Kit?" she asked when she'd located Jolene inside a huge walk-in closet in her bedroom. "Beau keeps introducing me as Katherine for some odd reason."

  From between two long rows of clothing, the tinkle of laughter blended with the jingle of hangers. "It's because of the family legend, of course," Jolene said when she poked her head out, holding up a blouse, her eyebrows raised in question.

  Kit smiled but shook her head at the diaphanous flounces of georgette. "Won't go with jeans. What legend?"

  "I see what you mean," Jolene said, eyeing the blouse critically, then dived back in. "He hasn't told you?"

  "No, but I'm dying to hear."

  "Well, during the War of Northern Aggression, Terrebeau was about to be burned to the ground by the passing Union army, but was saved at the last minute by the owner's youngest daughter." Jolene peeked through the tiers of clothes and lowered her voice conspiratorially. "She sacrificed her virtue to the Yankee captain in exchange for a reprieve for Terrebeau and everything in it."

  "Oh dear." Kit nodded at another choice and took the hanger. "Don't tell me. Kit got pregnant and you are all descended from the baby."

  Jolene giggled. "Actually, Kit was the Yankee captain—Christopher Colfax of Boston. And, no, the daughter didn't get pregnant. A few days later, another Yank battalion came by and didn't want to honor the agreement. Kit was killed keeping his promise to the family. Terrebeau survived, but they say the daughter never recovered from the shock of his death."

  "Oh," she said, nonplussed. "What a sad ending."

  "Yes, but at Kit's funeral they say an old witchy woman from the bayou out yonder—" she gestured vaguely to the back of the house "—predicted Kit Colfax would be back one day to save Terrebeau from fire again." She handed Kit another couple of blouses, her expression inscrutable. "And a few other things."

  "Good grief. I can see why Beau's worried. After sinking all his money into restoring this place, the last thing he'd want is even a hint of it burning down." She laughed nervously. "My fire-fighting techniques are a bit rusty. Think I'll stick to Katherine for now."

  * * *

  Beau stared at the huge stack of work piled on his desk and sighed. He didn't mind doing it—it was, after all, his responsibility—but he hated being this far behind. With so many plantation tasks and ledgers to juggle at the same time, it was important he stay current on everything or it could easily defeat him—as it had his father twenty years ago. And Gunny hadn't been chief of police, to boot.

  There were the various accounts to do for the time he'd been away, which were easy enough in themselves. But it was time to coordinate the tenant farm harvests and plan next year's crop so it could be approved by the tenant co-op. And he'd also promised to look at Jolene's books before the end of the month to suggest ways she might save on expenses for the shop.

  It would take ages to do all that. There had to be an easier way, but damned if he knew what it was. One of these days he'd have to get up the courage to go back to school. Maybe a degree in business… But he was getting sidetracked.

  He drilled a hand through his hair. Somewhere in between all of that other stuff, he'd have to find time to track down Remi so Kit wouldn't go and do something stupid like have him arrested while Beau wasn't looking.

  Though he did have some help on that one. He'd asked Doug to find Remi, even if he had to turn the entire parish upside down to do it. His deputy chief was only too eager to get a real assignment to prove himself. Beau had no doubt if Remi was within a hundred miles of Verdigris, Doug would ferret him out.

  In the department there were just the two of them, a night patrolman and the dispatcher who worked out of her home. With Doug so busy, that left Beau to deal with the station's mail and paperwork so he wouldn't drown in it when he started back on Monday.

  Damn, he really did need a secretary.

  "Beau, honey, do you have a minute?"
<
br />   Softly sighing, he turned to see his mama's head poking through the office door. "Of course, Mama. Come in. What is it you need?"

  "Just wanted to make sure you were still planning to speak to the Daughters of the South Garden Club next week. Everyone is so looking forward to hearing about your plans for restoring the historic gardens here at Terrebeau."

  He flipped open his appointment book and found the appropriate day. "Yes, it's right here. Wednesday morning. Although I can't imagine what I'll say. The research isn't close to being complete."

  "Oh, never you mind that. You know the ladies are always thrilled to have you."

  Didn't he know it. For some reason his talks drew an inordinate number of the club's overstuffed members to the meetings, especially the young, unmarried ones. Usually he didn't mind this overtly transparent matchmaking ploy by his mother, but this time the thought of facing all those simpering belles set his teeth on edge. "Well, they do serve a first-class luncheon," he said, groping for something pleasant to say about his mother's favorite society club.

  "Yes, they do." With her hand on the doorknob to leave, she casually said, "I expect Miss Colfax will be gone by then?"

  Beau glanced up, trying to gauge his mother's intent with the question. "I'm not sure. Will it be a problem if she stays longer?"

  She gave him a frankly assessing look. "I don't know. Will it?"

  He slowly set down the appointment book. "What do you mean?"

  "I've never interfered in your personal life, Beau. You are a grown man and up until now you have been more than circumspect in your … activities."

  "Where's this going, Mama?" As if he couldn't guess.

  "I'm just concerned about your intentions regarding this young woman."

  "Why?"

  "She's staying in the suite that for two hundred years has belonged exclusively to the mistress of Terrebeau."

  "And?"

  "Surely, you don't plan on marrying her."

  Statement. Not question.

  "I've explained why she's in that room." He reached out and picked up a box of wooden matches next to his cheroots, carefully balancing them between two fingers. "I have no plans whatsoever, other than keeping her safe until I catch the man who tried to kill her."