A Christmas Kiss (19 page)

"That's wonderful." She applauded at the end. "I can't believe you both play so well."

"Music is part of life," Joey said, putting down his fiddle and sweeping her out of the chair. "We're given only this moment, Cori. So now you'll dance."

Cori turned to Laurette. "I don't know how."

"Then it's time you learned." Laurette retrieved the tape player from a corner. She checked the batteries and inserted a tape. "I'm going to catch us some fish for dinner. Joey is an excellent dancer.

You're in good hands."

"But shouldn't we be doing something about tonight?"

Joey eased her into his arms before answering. "We have done everything we can, Cori. Every precaution has been taken. Laurette will keep watch for us while she fishes, and she'll hear any approaching boats long before they can hear us. Now we can enjoy the moment." He started moving forward so that she had to step backward. "The Cajun Waltz," he whispered in her ear. "Listen to the music, feel it. Your body will know what to do."

After a few awkward moments, Cori gave up trying to anticipate what to do next. Joey's strong arms held her, moving in the three-beat succession of steps that were at first plain and then quickly became gliding swirls of motion as she gained more confidence in herself, and in Joey's ability to lead her.

One song bled into the next with hardly a moment for Cori to gain her breath. The dance was fast, but it wasn't exertion that made her heart pump too hard. It was Joey. He was as graceful as a cat, and his strength lent her grace.

"That's it," he said, encouragingly, "and you said you couldn't dance."

Cori had no response. She only wanted the music to go on and on forever. She was Cinderella at the ball. No matter that she wore jeans and a sweater that had seen cleaner days. She saw herself reflected in Joey's eyes.

"This is wonderful," she whispered.

"I think so. I believe every child should be taught to dance in the first grade. I think we'd have fewer criminals."

He was kidding, but Cori knew there was a grain of truth in what he said. "Maybe you're right.

Maybe I'll give up my art studio and open a dance studio. Of course, you'll have to work as an instructor." She laughed. "Then again, I'm not sure I'd like that."

Joey guided her around the entire cabin, circling the sofa and chairs, moving through the kitchen. "In our family, we danced in the yard or the kitchen or the hallway. My mother and father didn't care where, just as long as there was music and they had each other."

Cori was about to answer when she heard footsteps on the stairs. They were running.

Joey heard them, too. As he pushed Cori down on the floor behind the sofa he switched off the music. He took cover beside her, his arm snaking out to capture his gun.

The door flew open and Laurette dashed into the room, eyes large with concern.

"Someone's coming, Joey. It sounds like Aaron's boat, but I can't be certain."

"Damn." Joey stood up. He reached for the rifle and handed it to Laurette. The shotgun he gave to Cori. "Remember the signals."

"I didn't think they'd come in daylight."

"Neither did I," he said. "It'll work against us, I'm afraid."

Cori tasted metal in the back of her mouth, and she realized it was pure fear. She had never been so afraid in her life. These men had come to kill her, and Joey and Laurette stood in danger because of it.

"Remember the plan." Joey looked at each, waiting for them to nod. "Okay. I'm going out to take my position. Laurette."

"I'm headed for the tree." She hefted the rifle and made sure her pockets were bulging with shells.

She hugged Cori quickly and gave Joey a kiss. Then she was gone.

"Cori?"

She nodded, patting her pockets to show she, too, had shells.

"Shoot to kill, no matter if he looks like Kit or not."

She nodded again, unable to speak. Nothing in life had prepared her for this moment.

Joey brushed her silky hair back from her face. He kissed each cheek softly, then her lips. "Things will work out." He went out the door and down to the small island of land that would afford him the best shot when Aaron's boat bit the snag he'd constructed.

Cori shaded her eyes against the setting sun. An hour had passed, an eternity in hell. The boat motor had been cut, and there was nothing, only the knowledge that they were out there, waiting, biding their time. An eerie quiet had settled over the cabin and surrounding swamp. She could hear the second hand of her watch twitch the slow minutes away, and she could only imagine the torment Joey was going through. Aaron was on that boat. If anything happened to him, Joey would never forgive himself for involving a friend.

From her vantage point at the window of the cabin she could see the boat dock. Joey had placed her as far from the action as possible; she knew that. The shotgun would be necessary only as a last resort. Still, she could see the scene. With the sun dipping behind the stark cypress trees, the swamp was impressive. There was a wild beauty to the place that touched her, while at the same time it reminded her that she was totally removed from the world she knew. If anything happened to Joey and Laurette, she wouldn't have the vaguest idea how to get home.

A shaft of golden light pierced her eyes and she drew back. The truth struck her with such force that she started toward the door, then stopped herself. The men who were after her were not stupid. They were planning on using the sun to their advantage. They could come in with the light behind them, giving them a clear view of what they were attacking. Joey and Laurette would be staring directly into the blinding light. And there was nothing she could do. Her first impulse was to warn Joey, but that was foolish. Surely he'd come to the same conclusion long before her.

As if her thought had kicked the boat motor to life, she heard it crank. And then came the sound of a boat moving toward the cabin at breakneck speed.

Although the boat was too far away, Cori lifted the shotgun to her shoulder and sighted down the barrel, ready for whatever might come.

In the distance, the boat was a speck of black illuminated by the golden sun. She blinked, trying hard to distinguish how many men were in the boat, but the sun was too intense. She blinked again and lowered the gun. It was almost impossible to stare into the sun long enough to draw a bead. Determined, she lifted the gun again. This time she could see a man who looked like Aaron sitting in the back, steering the boat. Someone stood in the prow, and there were other figures, shifting even as the boat raced toward her, the wake a V of molten gold. She counted three, aside from Aaron. She could not tell if one of them looked like Kit.

The boat came in straight, not angling in as Joey had expected. Cori watched as Aaron neatly avoided the net that Joey had so laboriously set.

"Damn," she whispered as she lowered the gun so she could press her face to the window. "Damn!"

The boat completely avoided the trap and then angled so that Cori could finally see. The man in the prow stood facing Aaron. In his hand was a gun, and it was pointed at Aaron's chest. One bump, one false move, and the man's finger would automatically pull the trigger. As the boat sped by, Cori got a good look at Aaron's face. He was afraid, and ashamed that he had failed his friend.

Instead of attacking the cabin, the boat moved behind it, circling like a shark. Cori heard Laurette's lighter footsteps pounding on the dock, and she ran outside to meet her.

"What's happening?" Cori asked.

"There's no entrance from the back. It's all marsh. They can't get through. Trust me, with what's back there, they won't get through. They'll have to come to the front, but Joey's worried about Aaron.

He's afraid they'll kill him." Laurette was breathless.

"They'll need someone to lead them out of here, and my bet is they'd rather keep Aaron alive than Joey, and they don't know about you."

"That's comforting." Laurette rolled her eyes. "I have to get back. They'll have to come this way, and now we've lost the advantage of surprise, and we're handicapped by the sun. Stay in the cabin, Cori.

Stay safe."

"Right," Cori answered to her retreating back. "I'll stay really safe while everyone else gets blown to bits."

On the far side of the cabin, the boat motor was still audible, but it was farther away. Cori peered out the kitchen window but could see nothing but the waving grass that Laurette had told her was aquatic. Only an airboat could traverse that terrain. She hoped Laurette was right about that.

Feeling as if her nerves had been stretched too far, Cori went back to the front window and waited.

like Joey and Laurette, she could do nothing else.

This time the drone of the boat was no surprise. It came around the shallows that surrounded the cabin and, without warning, came straight in toward the dock.

Cori heard the opening gunshots before she realized that the men in the boat had set up a fusillade of bullets, and the guns they carried had a lot more firepower than anything Laurette or Joey had. The shotgun she carried was an antique compared to their weapons. Her first impulse was to put her hands over her ears and run to hide under the bed, but she kept her post at the window. Running would do no good; she'd tried that for two years. At last she had taken a stand.

The gunfire was heavy out at the dock, and Cori found that she was trembling as she aimed the gun.

Laurette's scream almost made her pull the trigger. The cry was a spiral of pain, a woman hideously injured. "No." Cori spoke the word, then punched open the door and stepped outside.

She had given Joey her word that she would do what he told her. Without exception. And he had told her to stay in the cabin where she could shoot anyone who tried to enter. But Laurette was hit, and though she couldn't see him, she was fairly certain Joey was pinned down on the small island where he'd taken his stand. Laurette might be bleeding to death. Surely Joey would want her to try to help.

Still holding the gun, she started down the steps. She was at the bottom and ready to dart down the dock when she felt something staring at her.

The skin on her neck prickled, and if she had been a dog, she knew her hackles would have risen.

The stare was as intimate as the touch of a cold hand. "Brently?"

She turned into the dripping face of Kit Wells. "Kit?" Cori didn't believe it. "Is that really you?" His smile was tired. "Unfortunately for you, it is." "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to finish some business that I should have finished two years ago."-

Cori had the advantage of the sun, and she used it to study Kit's face. It was him. Older, more haggard, the fine edge of robust physical fitness and masculine power had been worn a bit, but it was still the handsome police detective she'd fallen in love with—and married.

There were a million things she had wanted to tell him. Not a single one came to her mind. She could only stare, her body numbed by the final truth.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You'd better come with me."

"Where?" Another burst of gunfire out on the dock made her flinch, but she didn't take her eyes off Kit. He had been so elusive, so unreal, that she knew if she turned around for a second he would disappear, and than all she would be left with was more evidence that she was losing her mind.

"Let's go." He brought the gun up from his side.

The gun was wet, and it occurred to Cori that it might not work. She held the shotgun casually at her side. Was she quick enough to lift it and get off a shot? Staring at Kit face-to-face, could she? Her fingers twitched but that was all.

"There was a time I would have followed you to hell, Kit, but I'm not going anywhere with you now." She surprised herself. She was calm, and deadly earnest.

"I've been in hell, Brently. In ways you'll never appreciate. I made a bargain with the devil, and he called in my ticket." Kit shook his head. "This wasn't my idea. I just don't have a choice."

"Everyone has a choice. You just want the easiest way. For you."

He reached across and took her arm. His grip was firm but not angry. "Let's get this over with." He pulled her beneath the cabin and toward the swamps.

"How did you get here? There's no way."

"There's always a way, Brently. I had to walk through the swamps, which isn't exactly my idea of paradise, but at least we had the daylight."

Cori balked. "If I go with you, if I follow you out of here and don't give you any trouble, will those men leave without hurting Joey and his friends?"

Kit's smile revealed a harshness she had never seen before. "They don't want to kill a US. Marshal, but they will. If I get you out of here, they'll leave. Tio has no way to follow. We've got his buddy and the boat. He'll be stranded here, and we'll be long gone."

Cori put the shotgun down. Her decision was made. Joey and Laurette could hold them for a little longer—if Laurette was still alive. But the men had more firepower. A lot more. The end was inevitable.

The only thing she could change was whether Joey had a chance at survival or not.

"Why do they want me?"

"That's a question you don't want me to answer."

Cori felt the finger of death touch her lightly on the spine. They were going to kill her. Joey had been right.

"How did you find me in Houston?" She had to know for certain it was Kit all along.

"We've known where you were since the very beginning. I thought I could make you doubt yourself.

Maybe upset you to the point that you wouldn't testify. I tried, Brently, I..."

"My name is Cori." She lashed out with the words. "Cori St. John. The woman you tricked and married is long dead."

"It doesn't matter to me what you call yourself. The outcome is going to be the same, I'm afraid." Kit pushed her ahead of him down a narrow, barely visible trail toward the back. Cori stumbled over clumps of weeds, and when they were only a few yards from the cabin, her shoes began to sink in the thick grass that was saturated with water. Kit had indeed walked in through the swamps. But Laurette had said it wasn't possible.