Fearless Encounter

Chapter 1

Jazz filled the air and partiers danced along the parade route. The carnival’s spirit intoxicated Brooke Montgomery as it had each season since she’d been a young girl. Growing up in New Orleans, she’d rarely missed Mardi Gras, but that special day was still weeks away. Since that evening’s parade was nearby, she walked the few blocks from work.

She was dressed warmly to protect against the January cold. The French Quarter was alive with excitement for the first event of the season. She arrived at Jackson Square and pushed into the crowds to get a closer look at the colorful floats. The riders wore the purple, gold, and green beads of Mardi Gras, along with ornate masks. People in New Orleans took costumes seriously and put a lot of thought into their creations. To stand out, a costume had to be truly fabulous.

Brooke had put in that effort many times, but she was on her way to dinner. She’d dressed nicely but didn’t need a costume. A few friends waited for her at Tableau, an upscale Creole restaurant that was one of her favorites. The dinner was a yearly tradition that her parents had started, and those attending were family friends. When her parents moved to California, the dinners had continued.

She loved the French cuisine infused with local ingredients. And the chocolate torte was delicious. In her youth, dining at fine restaurants had been a part of her life, especially since her parents were in the business. Brooke was especially drawn to the pastries, and she began to learn how to make them. Her creations hadn’t compared to those the chefs served, until her pastry chef training changed that.

As the parade went by, she shouted along with the others. The music got louder and the crowd rowdier. It was already late, and her rumbling stomach reminded her that she was hungry. Her friends would already be drinking and munching on appetizers. She turned to go, then wove through hordes of people. It was dark out, but the city lights shone over the partiers.

Even along the streets and the side alleys, throngs blocked the way. Brooke knew the area well, so decided to take a detour and go around. That wasn’t so easy. At each turn, there were more people. She felt like she was getting farther from Tableau instead of closer. People in costumes filled every corner. Many wore elaborate masks and beads, dancing and shouting to the music.

Brooke leaned against a railing to catch her breath. With all the people around, she didn’t feel the cold much. A person stood next to her, and she looked to see a handsome man. She thought she recognized him but wasn’t sure.

It was impossible not to stare. He was tall with dark hair and deep brown eyes, his strong physique filling out the heavy coat. His receding hairline revealed his age as close to hers. Much to her dismay, she’d recently turned forty, a fact which she had yet to adjust to. When he smiled, her heart skipped a beat.

“Hello,” he said, loudly.

Brooke heard him over the din of noise that engulfed them. “Hi,” she said, struggling to remember his name.

He gave her a winning grin. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Brooke shook her head.

“My daughter’s birthday party,” he said, “last spring at Jasper’s.”

It was starting to come back to her. “Ah, the teenagers.” As the pastry chef at Jasper’s, she’d been busy in the kitchen, but not so much that she hadn’t noticed him—especially when she’d gone out to greet the birthday girl.

He held out a gloved hand. “Gabriel Durand,” he said. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself that day. The girls were pretty impressed with the salted caramel birthday cake.”

Her knees went weak under his glowing smile. “I heard it was your daughter’s favorite,” Brooke said, having to raise her voice to be heard.

“Well, it was a hit at her party,” Gabriel said, then looked at her with a steady gaze. “What’s your name?”

“Brooke Montgomery,” she said. “And you already know I’m the pastry chef at Jasper’s.” She couldn’t help staring at him. “I haven’t seen you there since the party.”

Gabriel shrugged. “It’s a classy place, not my usual. But it was where Amalie wanted to have her birthday party.”

Brooke remembered her dinner plans. “I have some friends expecting me.”

“Sure, nice to see you again.” Gabriel didn’t take his eyes off her.

Before she made a fool of herself, Brooke scurried around the corner and resumed her journey to Tableau. It shouldn’t be far now, and she was more than fashionably late. Her mind wandered to Gabriel, the sexy guy with the French name, and she remembered that she’d been drawn to him at the birthday party. She’d asked Jasper about him and learned that he was a single dad. That explained why he was chaperoning a party of teenage girls. She had delivered the birthday cake to the table and chatted with the girls for a minute. Gabriel had looked at her a second too long, making her heart skip a beat. In a beautiful French accent, he had said, “Thank you for the cake.”

Brooke had looked for him at Jasper’s, hoping he’d return. She hadn’t dreamed of running into him anywhere else. New Orleans was a big city. It seemed fate had other ideas. She’d bumped into him and talked just long enough to ignite her interest—more like desire. Yet it wasn’t going to happen. He was a heartthrob, and she was an aging woman. She didn’t like that word, but it was how she felt. She tended to look in the mirror more often, checking for wrinkles. Hard workouts kept her fit, but she had to admit that her figure wasn’t what it was at age twenty, or even thirty. It was better to focus on her career than to envision romance.

Distracted, Brooke bumped into a group dressed in bright costumes, but they hardly noticed. Ducking around them, she turned onto a side street, hoping for a less busy route. It was dark out, but there was enough city light to see ahead. In a flash, she saw long purple hair glint in the dim light. It was popular to wear colorful wigs at parades. The flashy color caught her eye, then she recoiled—nearly tripping to avoid taking her next step. She froze, barely breathing.

The purple-haired woman wore a glittery headdress that sparkled in the night’s light. A huge man had his arms around her, but his demeanor was aggressive, and the woman was kicking her feet. Brooke thought she heard a screech, but before the woman could scream, the man had his hand over her face. Since Brooke was some distance down the alley, she couldn’t see exactly what was happening. It appeared that the man had something in his hand, and the woman struggled to get free.

The man wore a black costume with silver rhinestones and a full mask that looked like a skeleton. He glanced around the alley, seeming to notice Brooke. She gasped then darted back around the corner, praying that he hadn’t noticed her watching.

Brooke’s heart pounded and she struggled to breathe. She should go help the woman, but fear pinned her feet to the pavement. She ran down the block then leaned against a wall behind several groups of partiers. She thought of the woman with her purple hair and matching purple, green, and gold dress. What must have started as a night of partying turned bad when she became the victim of that big brute. The woman must be terrified.

Without thinking further, Brooke peeked around the corner. If the attacker was still there, she could certainly scream even if the woman couldn’t.

But the alley was vacant. Along the cross-street farther up, a couple dressed in brightly colored outfits walked by talking and laughing. There was no sign of the scuffle Brooke had witnessed.

*****

With dinner forgotten, she considered what to do. She’d had quite a scare, and her heart was still pounding. She should find a police officer in the area, but a horrible thought struck her. At the last minute, the man had looked her way. Brooke had vanished so fast that she had no idea if he saw her well enough to recognize her later. Since she hadn’t worn a carnival mask, he got a look at her face in the semidarkness. Panic gripped her and she turned to leave. She had to get away to a safer place so she could think.

Weaving through the crowds, Brooke headed back the way she’d come. She had no destination in mind, as long as it was away from the crime scene.

Before she figured out how to get the authorities to come to her aid, she ran smack into someone. Firm hands gripped her arms, then she looked up at Gabriel. Relief washed over her at seeing a friendly face, but she held back. She couldn’t tell him what just happened—not until she thought things through and decided what to do. Flustered, she looked into Gabriel’s eyes.

“Whoa,” he said, lightly squeezing her arms. “What’s wrong?”

Brooke shook her head and took a step back but couldn’t find the words.

Gabriel frowned. “Let’s get out of this crowd. You look shaken.” He put his arm around her shoulders to guide her.

With no attempt to resist, Brooke let him lead her down the street. Conflict tore at her insides. She had to do something but couldn’t get a clear idea of what. In all the years she’d lived in New Orleans, even knowing about the high crime rate, the encounter only minutes before was the worst that she’d personally experienced. She took a breath to regain her composure.

It was several blocks before the crowds began to thin. Gabriel kept his arm around her in a reassuring gesture. More than thoughts of kindness filled Brooke’s mind. Despite the bad timing, her body reacted to his touch. Beyond the bustle of the parade was a coffee shop. Without asking, Gabriel escorted her inside. The quiet place was a welcome relief.

The waitress seated them at a booth near the back. The seatbacks were high, giving Brooke a sense of security. Anyone looking inside wouldn’t see her, a thought that quieted her mind—if only a little.

The busboy poured water and Brooke took a gulp, while Gabriel watched her. She had the feeling that not much escaped his notice. The fact was, she barely knew him. Just because he was handsome with an accent to swoon for didn’t mean he could be trusted. At that moment, she was the only one who knew what she’d seen—a frightening thought.

Wisely, Gabriel didn’t press for information. He waited for the coffee to arrive, giving her a chance to explain what was going on.

Brooke should have told him, but she remained unsure. It wasn’t fair to pull him into the trauma. He had been nice to her, and she should leave it at that.

But Gabriel didn’t seem inclined to ignore her upset. He stirred cream in his coffee then folded his hands and waited.

Brooke lifted her mug to take a sip.

“I guess your dinner with friends didn’t go well?” Gabriel said.

In all the excitement, she hadn’t thought to text that she couldn’t make it. Her absence would be cause for concern. But she hadn’t received a call yet, so they’d surely started without her.

Gabriel raised his brows, still waiting for her to explain.

“I didn’t make it to dinner.”

“I figured as much, since it hasn’t been long since I saw you watching the parade,” Gabriel said, looking at her expectantly. “If you made it to the restaurant, you didn’t stay long.”

“There was a…problem.”

“Care to tell me?”

“I should really go to the police.” Brooke cringed. She’d blurted that out without intending to.

“You can tell me about it,” Gabriel said. “Maybe I can help.”

Brooke sighed. “I need to speak to the police.”

“I’m retired New Orleans PD.”

“Oh,” Brooke said.

“Whatever happened, you can tell me,” Gabriel said. “I’m a private investigator and I have friends in the NOPD.”

Brooke took a deep breath before launching into the frightening details. Once she got going, the story poured out of her. “I should have gone to the police right away, but I’m not sure they’d believe me.”

“Because it’s just your word that something happened?”

“Yes, I can’t even be sure,” Brooke said. “During parades, drinking and drugs are prevalent. A lot of strange things happen. But that doesn’t mean that I saw an abduction .” She paused. “I went back.”

“You went back to the scene?”

“I wanted to see if the woman was okay, but there was no one there,” Brooke said. “There was no sign of a crime. It is carnival season, after all. The authorities could think I imagined it.”

“That’s true,” Gabriel said. “I doubt they’d put much manpower into finding the woman. We don’t know who she was or what happened in that alley.”

“That’s what I mean. How am I going to help her?”

The waitress came by to refill the coffee. “Would you like anything else?”

Brooke shook her head. Dinner was the furthest thing from her mind.

“You’re the priority right now,” Gabriel said. “Is there someone you need to call, a boyfriend, or…?”

The question threw her off. With no wedding band, he would assume that she was single. “No, I’m not with anyone. There’s no one I want to call. I’d rather figure this out before I worry my friends.”

“I understand. If you like, I’ll make some calls,” Gabriel said. “I can contact my buddy, Abe. He’s an NOPD officer. He won’t be on duty until Monday, but he will let me know if he hears anything. And I can check with the night shift at the station to see if an incident was reported.”

“With so many people around, you’d think the woman couldn’t be dragged off without someone besides me noticing.”

“Let me see what I can find out,” Gabriel said. “My car isn’t far. Let’s take a detour around the parade crowd to that alley. You can show me where it happened. If a missing person report is filed, we’ll take the next step.”

Brooke agreed, relieved to have his support. On the way, she’d text her friends to let them know that something had come up and she wouldn’t make it to dinner.

*****

Gabriel drove through the narrow streets, winding his way toward the scene. Before leaving, he had checked with the local PD, but there hadn’t been any missing person reports filed within the last few hours.

At the back end of the alley, he pulled along the curb. “I’ll text this location to Abe.”

“Should I make an official report?”

“Sure, we’ll set that up. For now, it’s better if you don’t hang around this area,” Gabriel said.

“You’re right, I should go home,” Brooke said, not looking forward to being alone. That was the part of being single she disliked most. And after tonight’s event, her empty condo was even less enticing.

“Tell you what,” Gabriel said. “I have a better idea.” He paused. “You can come to my place.”

Brooke warmed at the idea, yet being with Gabriel might be awkward.

“Only for your safety,” Gabriel said. “I’d feel better if you weren’t alone until we know what we’re dealing with, and I have a big house. My daughters have both moved out, so you can have their suite.”

“Suite?”

Gabriel chuckled, a very endearing sound. “The suite was part of our remodel. The girls had their own space, and we got some peace.”

“You and your wife?”

Sadness filled his eyes. “Yes, my wife, Margot.” He hesitated. “She died a few years ago. I’m a widower.”

Brooke noticed he used the term died instead of passed away . She wanted to ask what happened, but she’d wait for a better time. “I appreciate your offer, despite the fact that you hardly know me.”

Gabriel smiled, melting her heart. “It’s not like you’re a total stranger. I’ve tasted your salted caramel cake, after all.”

After she agreed to stay overnight at his home, Gabriel drove to her condo so she could pack an overnight bag. While Brooke did that, he waited in the living room, but only after he’d checked to make sure the place was secure. Brooke grabbed the essentials then they left.

*****

Leaning against the seat and looking out the window, Brooke was glad to have a few minutes to relax. “Where do you live?”

“In the Garden District,” Gabriel said. “I bought the house over twenty-five years ago, when homes in the neighborhood were a lot more affordable. The house was originally built in nineteen forty-eight, but I renovated the place. Fortunately, I was able to do a lot of the work myself.”

Brooke was familiar with the charming neighborhood of oak-shaded streets lined with a mix of homes, everything from cottages to grand historic mansions. They drove past the lavish gardens of St. Charles Avenue and the cemetery filled with ornate nineteenth-century tombs. It was too dark out to see clearly, but she had been along the streets so many times that she had the scenery memorized.

It only took a few minutes to get to Gabriel’s home. When he pulled into the alley in back and approached his short driveway, motion-sensitive lights came on. He pushed the button to open the door. The headlights illuminated a well-kept one-car garage, large enough for his Toyota. Brooke noted the car wasn’t a newer model. She didn’t know her cars that well, but she could tell that much. “Do you like this car?”

As Gabriel pulled into the garage, he said, “It’s okay. In my line of work, I need to drive a vehicle that’s seen a lot, one that blends in. That’s also why it’s white, the most common color.”

“So you can follow people?”

“Sometimes.” Gabriel shrugged. “It goes with the job.”

Brooke got out. “Having a garage isn’t standard in this neighborhood.”

“I don’t like leaving my vehicle outside, so I converted the carport.” Gabriel escorted her out the door to the backyard, then clicked to shut the garage.

The walkway to the home was lit by lights under the eaves, showing off the neatly trimmed grass and hedges. Gabriel led her to the back door, where he stepped inside to turn on a light. “Welcome,” he said, with a sweep of his hand. “I’ll show you around.”

His home was comfortably furnished with overstuffed furniture and oriental carpets. The kitchen and bathrooms had been updated. “You did a good job with that remodel. Your home is lovely.”

“Glad you like it,” Gabriel said. “I repainted recently.”

Brooke admired the classy cream and gray hues, accented with brighter colors. “You have good taste.”

“My daughters helped. I just did the work.” Gabriel showed her to the suite. “Unpack and get comfortable. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

The suite wasn’t large but had two small bedrooms connected by a common bathroom. Brooke picked the room on the right, put her suitcase next to a chair, then took a breath. She looked at the family pictures decorating the walls.

It wasn’t going to be easy hanging around with Gabriel, especially in his own home. He was mature and caring, which touched her heart. The attraction was strong, although she barely knew him. Lacking confidence in the dating department, Brooke didn’t consider flirting. It was best to keep things on a professional level. She’d accepted his protection, but only for the night. Then she’d figure out what to do.

It didn’t take long to unpack the few items she’d brought then hang her coat in the closet. She was a bit dressed up, since she’d planned to go to dinner. It would have to do, as she only had one change of clothes for the morning. She freshened up in the bathroom then headed for the kitchen. The aroma of the food reminded her how starved she was.

Gabriel was in a t-shirt and jeans, looking temptingly sexy. His biceps flexed as he prepared food. “I thought you’d be hungry.”

Brooke averted her eyes to avoid his gaze. “You don’t have to feed me. It’s enough that I’m staying here.”

“I like to cook.”

And that was one more point in his favor—a guy who liked to cook, and no doubt he’d be good at it. “What are you making?”

“I’m grilling a steak and steaming vegetables. I hope that’s okay. I’d planned to eat when I got home tonight.”

“It smells heavenly.” Brooke looked at the seared meat as her stomach rumbled. “What can I do to help?”

“You can set the table and slice that French bread. There’s a basket for it and butter in the crock.” Gabriel smiled. “Oh, and you can pour the wine that’s open, if you drink.”

Brooke could really use a drink. “I’d be happy to.” She poured the wine and set a glass next to Gabriel, then took a couple of sips before setting the table.

It wasn’t long before dinner was served. Gabriel sat across from her, sipping wine. “Please…enjoy.”

“This is delicious,” Brooke said, savoring a bite of steak.

While Gabriel ate, he chatted a bit about other meals he enjoyed cooking and a few details about the house. He was clearly trying to make her comfortable, and it was working. After most of her meal and a glass of wine, Brooke was more composed.

After refilling the wine glasses, Gabriel said, “What’s it like being a pastry chef?”

Brooke talked about her career. “My parents were in the restaurant business, and I was drawn to the creation of pastry. It’s like art.” She described a few techniques, such as tempering chocolate and creating delicate sugar sculptures. Gabriel listened intently, and actually seemed interested. “This doesn’t bore you?”

“I admire the skill,” Gabriel said. “And I admit to a weakness for sweet confections, but baking a cake is about the limit of my ability.”

When they moved to the living room, the conversation flowed easily, and Brooke ended up sharing more about her life growing up in the city. They had a lot in common, since Gabriel was also from New Orleans. He talked about his daughters and told a few PI stories. The relaxed mood nearly made Brooke forget about her earlier trauma. To his credit, Gabriel didn’t bring that up.

When the bottle of wine was empty, Gabriel said, “You should probably get some sleep. I’m sure it’s been quite an evening for you.”

Brooke thanked him for the hospitality then went to her suite and shut the door. She flopped on the bed. The events of the day swirled in her head, but she’d had too much wine to sort things out. She thought of calling Lisle, her best friend. Yet she wasn’t ready to tell her about what happened, not until she had a plan. It had been a long day. She pushed aside her worry, determined to face things after a night of sleep.

Thoughts of Gabriel filled her mind. He was definitely dating material, so much better than any guy she’d gone out with since her divorce. But he felt out of reach, even though he had many qualities she wanted in a man.

Dating had been a disaster for Brooke, so she’d sworn off trying to find a suitable man. Turning forty last month hadn’t helped. Dating often meant meeting a guy who she had nothing in common with, or worse—which seemed the more frequent outcome. Lack of confidence prohibited her from believing the truly desirable ones would be attracted to her. Her youth had escaped, replaced by maturity. Brooke made a point to take care of herself. But all the creams and lotions weren’t going to make her young again.

Now Gabriel had reappeared in her life, but Brooke didn’t dare hope that he found her attractive. He was protecting her—just being a nice person. That’s all it was, and she shouldn’t hope for anything more.