Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
“H ow’ve you been, Bubba? Heard you got out of Angola about six weeks ago.”
“Yeah. Did my time and they let me out on account of good behavior. I’ve been keeping my nose clean ever since.”
“Have you, Bubba? A little birdie done told me you picked up a job recently. Said you made a good haul, got a lot of cash.”
Bubba shook his head back and forth so hard Jack was surprised it stayed attached to his neck. The skinny man was pale as a ghost, obviously terrified of Gator. Thus far, he was impressed with the older man. He barely had to say a word before people told him anything and everything they knew. He inspired awe and adoration in the good people of New Orleans. The not-so-upstanding citizens? Those people steered clear of the Boudreau patriarch.
“Nah, Gator, it’s not like that. I…I won that money at the casino, fair and square. I ain’t done nothing wrong.”
Gator sat on the edge of the bed across from Bubba, who’d plunked down in one of the chairs in the shabby motel room. Threadbare puke green carpet covered the floor, which likely had no padding beneath it; he heard the echo of his boots against concrete when he’d walked in. A burnt orange and brown bedspread lay across the bottom of the unmade bed, and the bathroom door was thankfully closed. He really didn’t want to see what the tub or toilet looked like in this palace.
“Bubba, that’s not what we heard.” Gator gestured toward Jack, who stood leaning against the doorframe by the closed door. “We heard you picked up that wad of cash because of these.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans where he’d folded the envelope and put it there after leaving the manager’s office. Pulling out one of the pictures, he held it up in front of Bubba, who sank back against the chair, staring at it like it was a rattlesnake preparing to strike.
“Gator, you gotta listen—”
“Only if you tell me the truth, Bubba. I’ll know if you’re lying. You know what’s going to happen if you lie to me?”
“Please, Gator, I can’t tell you anything. I open my mouth, I’m gonna disappear, and not in an ‘I’ve run off to South America’ kind of disappear. Disappear as in my body will never be found.”
“Bubba, one way or another, you’re going to tell me who hired you. Easy way or hard way, you pick. I need to know who hired you to install the cameras.”
Bubba’s head fell forward, and Jack wasn’t sure if the man was crying or not. From the way his shoulders shook, he probably was. Not that he felt sorry for the guy, he’d planted cameras in Salem’s home. Invaded her privacy. Made her afraid.
“I can’t. They find out—”
“They won’t find out from me. Bubba, you’re not the big fish we’re after. I want a name, and then I’ll let you walk out of here. If you don’t wanna cooperate, well, we’ll be taking a little trip out to my camp, and I’ll introduce you to Big Shirley.”
At that, Bubba’s eyes got so big Jack could see the whites all the way around them. He wondered who Big Shirley was and why she scared Bubba.
“I was at Lucky’s, having a drink with Jo-Jo and Muskrat. Shooting the breeze and catching up with ’em. Hadn’t talked with ’em since I got out. Muskrat said he’d heard about a job, paid fifty large, but he couldn’t do it, because he didn’t know enough about computers and cameras and stuff. Real unhappy because he wanted that fifty grand. Jo-Jo laughed, didn’t think the job was real, because nobody was gonna pay that kind of money to low-level types like us. Tech jobs like cameras and computer stuff always goes to the Brainiac losers from Tulane. Nerd squad. But Muskrat swore the job was legit. He knew I had some experience with tech stuff, learned it during a study program last time I was in Angola.” He shrugged. “Gotta have something to do when you’re in there, otherwise you get yourself in trouble.”
“That’s true, Bubba. Keep going. Muskrat told you about the job.”
“Yeah. Said he could get me the info, who to contact, all that stuff. And he did. I kinda didn’t believe it was legal, or even a real job, but I called the number and talked to this lady. Real fancy voice, sounded all hoity-toity. She says she needs me to install some surveillance cameras inside an apartment. To put them in places where they can’t be found or seen. She laughed and called them nanny cameras.”
“How did you get the cameras?”
“The lady arranged everything. Gave me an address I was supposed to go to, to pick up the equipment. Gave me a laptop with the software already loaded. Programs on there are sweet, too. Stuff I could never afford. Gave me the address of where I was supposed to install the cameras, and a key to the place along with the date and time I was to go there.”
Gator looked at Bubba without saying a word. He simply watched the other man, as though gauging every word he spoke. Probably was. Gator seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to the people they’d dealt with that afternoon.
“After you installed the cameras, what were you supposed to do then, Bubba? Did you watch the people in the apartment?”
“No! No, I swear. I was told not to by the lady. Said she’d know if I turned on the program, accessed the cameras. She didn’t care if I used the computer for other stuff. It was part of my payment for installing the cameras. I thought my job was over, then she called me again this morning.”
Now they were getting to the meat of the problem, Jack thought. Obviously, Bubba had taken the pictures, and gotten them developed, on somebody’s orders. Who?
“What did she tell you to do?”
“She said she’d emailed me pictures, six of them. Wanted me to get them printed, but not to print them from my computer. Wanted them put on a flash drive and taken to a copy place. Print ’em on photo paper, nice and thick. Then I was to put ’em in an envelope and drop them in front of the apartment where I installed the cameras. Paid me an extra five grand to do that job.” Bubba’s lips started quivering. “Gator, I didn’t hurt anybody, I swear. Look in my duffle, the laptop’s in there. You’ll see I’m telling the truth.”
Jack opened the duffle and pulled out the laptop. Bubba hadn’t lied about it being state of the art. Definitely better than the one he used. Opening it, he pulled up a list of the software, recognizing most of the program names, though there were one or two unfamiliar ones. He bet if they took it to Stefan over at C.S.S., he’d know them. Maybe even be able to trace them back to the source.
“We believe you. Bubba, I’m going to have to take that laptop.”
“Take it! I don’t care. Don’t want it anymore!”
One last thing. Bubba, when the lady contacted you, did she call you on your cellphone?”
“Yeah. You want it? Here, take it. I’ll get another one. I knew taking this job was a mistake. Never meant no harm to anybody, Gator, you know that. I might be a criminal, do a lot of bad stuff, but I have never knowingly hurt anybody.”
“I know. I think it might be a good idea for you to get out of New Orleans for a while. Maybe go to Mississippi and see your sister. Lay low for a few weeks. And last thing, if you hear from anybody asking questions about the cameras or the pictures, you call me immediately. Especially if you hear from the lady again.”
“Will do. Can I go now?”
Gator stood and opened the front door. “Go ahead, Bubba. Don’t forget, keep your head down and stay out of trouble. I don’t want to see you end up back in Angola with your brother.”
Bubba shot out the door like the devil was nipping at his heels. Probably thought Gator might change his mind.
“Looks like the person who wanted the cameras placed was a woman. That’s interesting. I figured it was Abdullah or somebody working for him.”
“Wonder if it’s Sayifa Amir. Bubba said the woman had a hoity-toity speaking voice. Could be Mrs. Amir. Most of the wealthy families either go to England for their education or have English tutors. Bubba might have confused English-accented speech patterns for high class. I’m going to take the computer and the phone to Stefan. See if he can get us any useful information. Why don’t you go home to your wife? We’ll meet up once we’ve got more information.”
“Good idea. Thank you for your help. Glad you’re on our side.”
“Salem’s a good kid. She doesn’t deserve to have people like the Amirs breathing down her neck, threatening to take away her daughter. We’ll stop them. It’ll just take time.”
“Unfortunately, time might be the one thing we don’t have.”
Salem peeked into the oven, checking on the roast chicken she’d put in there after the ladies left. Chloe was down for a late nap, having spent the afternoon being coddled and spoiled by her friends. She’d been wiped out and was asleep the second her head hit the bedding, which gave Salem time to start dinner. The roast chicken was something simple, but it would hold in case Jack was late coming back.
Grabbing a pot, she measured chicken stock and a little butter, putting it on to boil. She really wished she had time to make biscuits, but since she didn’t know what time Jack would be back, she decided she’d get up a little early and fix some sausage and gravy with homemade biscuits for breakfast.
She stirred the rice into the stock, lowering the heat and putting on a lid. Pulling the bag of lettuce she’d bought earlier from the fridge, along with the heirloom tomato, she began slicing it, deciding on a small side salad to go with the roast chicken. It wasn’t a fancy meal, but she wanted to fix Jack something home cooked, since they’d eaten too much fast food the past two days. She missed Ms. Patti’s dinners. The woman definitely knew how to cook.
The sound of the front door opening had her spinning around, spotting Jack. She smoothed her hands down the front of her apron, feeling her palms begin to sweat. After the conversation earlier with the ladies, heat flooded her cheeks, remembering how they’d talked about Jack, how good looking he was, and what a catch she’d gotten in marrying him.
“Jack, I’m glad you’re home. Were you able to find out anything about the pictures?”
“Yeah, we found the guy who planted the cameras. He couldn’t tell us a whole lot unfortunately. He was hired by a woman to install the cameras in your apartment.”
A tightness started in the pit of her stomach. She still couldn’t believe somebody wanted to spy on her. Watch her every move. It had to be Tarik’s family, but what did they hope to gain? All they’d see was her taking care of Chloe or her studying for her graphic artist degree. She never had people over, nobody but Gabi anyway. Did they she was having wild orgies in her apartment with Chloe there? Tarik had been her first and only lover; it wasn’t like she’d been a party girl even when she’d been in college.
“A woman? Do you know, was she watching me—us—the whole time? Well, it couldn’t have been long, because we only came back yesterday.” She shrugged, her shoulders slumping. “This doesn’t make any sense. I’m not a partier, so whoever put in the cameras would be disappointed if they thought to catch me doing…anything.”
“We don’t know why somebody had the cameras placed. Gator was able to find out that the cameras were not activated here in New Orleans, so they had to be viewing remotely.”
“But the pictures were taken and printed today.”
Jack nodded and leaned against the wall. “Bubba—that’s the guy hired to install the cameras—got a message from the person who hired him, an email with the six pictures attached, and told to get them printed and leave them on your front doorstep. He never accessed the cameras once. Gator’s taking the guy’s laptop and cellphone to Stefan, see if we can get any information off either. Maybe if we’re lucky, he can trace it back to the source, get an IP address, something to tie it back to whoever hired Bubba.”
He walked forward and softly brushed the hair off her cheek. The one with the scar . She drew in a breath and held it, realizing his hand lingered for a few seconds, his fingers touching her skin. It took everything not to pull back, let the hair swing back to cover the offending reminder.
“Don’t,” he whispered. “You do that, let your hair swing to cover your face whenever you think someone’s staring. Salem, nobody’s looking at the scar. Should I tell you what I see when I look at you? I see a beautiful woman. Skin kissed like warm peaches and cream with glorious rich auburn hair that falls against your shoulders. I see the biggest, brightest blue eyes that sparkle when you laugh, though you haven’t laughed nearly enough lately. Lush plump lips, blush pink that beg for kisses. The scar that you see, thinking it makes you ugly? I see a badge of courage. I see a mark that tells the world that you are a fighter, a survivor who stood up to a monster and won. There is nothing about that scar that makes you unattractive, Salem. When I look at you, I see the whole package, a gorgeous woman who stopped me in my tracks the first time I saw you. You took my breath away then, and you take my breath away now.”
She closed her eyes, letting his words sink into her soul. Was that really what he saw when he looked at her? He made her feel beautiful. Special. Something she hadn’t felt since long before she met Tarik in Italy and her life changed.
“Thank you. You don’t know how much I needed to hear those words. I…I made dinner. Hope you’re hungry.” She knew the abrupt change of topic came out of left field, but she wasn’t ready to face the feelings his words evoked. After her conversation earlier with the ladies, she was willing to try, but it might take baby steps.
“Starving. Anything I can help with?”
“Would you mind checking on Chloe? She’s down for a late nap. We had company while you and Gator were gone, and it wore her out.”
“No problem. I’ll get washed up and check on her. Back in a sec.”
Turning back to the counter, she finished the salad and put it on the small dining table, then pulled a bottle of dressing out of the fridge. She checked on the rice, which was perfectly done. Spooning it into a serving bowl, she put it onto the table, too. Finally, she took the chicken out of the oven, placing it on a serving platter. It only took a few minutes to whip up gravy from the drippings, something she’d learned from Ms. Patti once while visiting. Cooking had never been one of her strong features, because when she’d lived at home her mother had never cooked. They had a live-in housekeeper who cleaned and handled all the meals. Now she was enjoying exploring a new area, learning what she liked and what she was capable of making.
“This one was sitting up in her bed, playing with her bunny.” Jack stood at the edge of the kitchen with a wide-awake Chloe in his arms. She stared at him with wide-eyed wonder, and as Salem watched, wound her arms around his neck and laid her head against his shoulder. It was almost cuteness overload, and she wished she had her phone out so she could take a picture.
“Well, dinner’s ready. Hey, sweet pea, let’s get you in your highchair, so we can eat some dinner.” With the ease of having done it hundreds of times, she got Chloe all fastened in, her daughter’s feet kicking and her fists banging against the plastic tray.
“You can go ahead and fix your plate, I’ll just be a minute getting hers ready.”
“I don’t mind waiting.”
Salem sliced a small piece of chicken and cut it into small cubes, making sure the pieces were bite size. A spoonful of rice joined it, and she got the baby’s spoon her daughter sometimes used, though she had the feeling Chloe would be using her fingers. The spoon was strictly for entertainment purposes.
Finally, she sat across from Jack, and gave him a shy smile. “This is nice. I don’t think we’ve had an actual sit-down meal together since all this started. It’s always been meals at the Boudreau ranch, or fast food while we were on the road. Tonight’s our first meal together as a family.”
“Just the three of us, as you said, a family. That’s going to take a bit of getting used to.”
“Right?” Salem chuckled and shook her head. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact we’re married. I mean do I keep my last name or do I change it to Sutton? We haven’t talked about it. There are a lot of things we haven’t talked about.”
Jack set his fork down on his plate and grabbed her hand. “It’s your choice of whether to take my last name or keep Hudson. I would be honored if you and Chloe became Suttons.”
“I would like that very much. Salem Sutton. It’s got a nice ring to it. I’ll need to get it changed on my ID, driver’s license, and other paperwork.”
“Getting married is always an adjustment for most couples. We’ll make it work.”
“I know we’ll have to look into getting a bigger place. With the three of us in this apartment, it’s going to get cramped fast.”
Jack leaned back in his chair, letting go of her hand. “I meant to talk with you about that, but things got a little crazy when I got back from C.S.S. Samuel has a couple of open apartments in the building. You know a lot of the guys who work there also live there with their wives. He’s offered us one of the units, if we’re interested. I have no idea what they look like, how big they are, or anything else about them. But if you want, I can make arrangements to look at one.”
“Are you kidding? When Samuel moved here, he converted all the upper spaces into apartments for his employees. Luxury apartments. They’ve got everything, all the bells and whistles you can imagine. I’ve been in several of them because Gabi knows everybody who works there. I kind of get dragged along when she visits the wives. Stephanie had her own place there before she married Etienne and moved into his apartment. I bet hers is available. Jack, we’re talking million-dollar apartments. Samuel and Andrea’s place is on the top floor and it’s worth more than my parents’ house.”
Jack’s grin spread the longer she talked until she realized she was babbling. Probably sounded like Chloe in her excited nonsense talk. But moving from this apartment, which wasn’t horrible but all she could afford on her salary, into a place like the C.S.S. building? It was a no-brainer.
Unless it put Jack in an awkward position. Their marriage wasn’t exactly the average, run-of-the-mill fairy tale. She didn’t want to put him on the spot, make him take a place where he wouldn’t be comfortable. After everything he was doing for her, she could afford to bend a little, let him make the choice.
“I’ll talk with Samuel, get us in to look at the apartment, but if it’s as nice as you say, it’s a deal.”
“Jack, I don’t want you to feel like you have to—”
“Stop. We said we’d give this marriage a try. That means making changes, compromising when we need to. If I wasn’t willing to move to a new place, I wouldn’t have mentioned it.” He chuckled before adding, “It’s not like I’ve even unpacked yet. Won’t be hard for me to change locations.”
“True.”
She took a bite of chicken, letting the spices explode on her tongue. It was moist and juicy, exactly the way Ms. Patti had taught her. She wrinkled her nose, screwing her mouth to the side. Something wasn’t quite right. Tilting her head, she sniffed, wondering if Chloe needed a diaper change. Another sniff showed it wasn’t her baby giving off the odor. “Jack, do you smell something burning?”
He turned to look at her before jumping from his seat, his chair falling back against the tile floor. “Salem, do you have a fire extinguisher in the apartment?”
She nodded, following his gaze, and noting the flames climbing up her front door. Coarse black smoke pillowed from beneath it, the acrid, bitter scent beginning to fill the space.
“There’s one under the kitchen sink.” She pointed before jumping from her seat and fumbling with Chloe’s tray, the catch sticking. Fighting down the panic that threatened, she finally pulled it loose, the tray crashing to the ground. Unbuckling the strap from around Chloe’s waist, she pulled her baby into her arms.
Chloe must have sensed her panic, because she began crying, legs kicking with each shrill shriek. She patted her back, watching Jack rush to the door and begin squirting the powdery foam, directing it toward the base of the door. The flames and smoke continued billowing into the apartment. After what seemed like seconds, but she was sure was longer, the extinguisher ran out, but the flames climbed along the doorjambs.
“Do you have another exit from the apartment? A fire escape? Balcony access?”
She shook her head. “That’s the only way out. There’s a small balcony outside my bedroom, but there’s no stairs or any way off.
Jack sprinted toward the kitchen and grabbed a couple of tea towels, putting them under the running water and wringing them out before bringing them to her.
“I want you to put one of these over Chloe’s nose and mouth and the other over yours. I’m going to get that door open and you’re going to go out into the hall and head for the street. Don’t take the elevator, take the stairs. I’ll meet you down there. Don’t stop, don’t wait for me.”
Taking the last damp towel, he wrapped it around his hand and used it to flip open the deadbolt before reaching for the doorknob. He took a deep breath and yanked the door inward. It wouldn’t budge. Her heartbeat raced faster as he struggled with the door, muscles bulging in his biceps as he pulled. Finally, bracing a foot against the jamb, he yanked hard, and the door flung inward, flames shooting higher. Orange and yellow burst along the hall carpet, and she coughed at the smoke getting through the tea towel.
Chloe screamed, kicking and crying, making it almost impossible to keep her mouth and nose covered, but Salem wasn’t about to let her baby die of smoke inhalation. Jack coughed behind her, the wracking sound worrying Salem.
“Go!”