Gage (Texas Boudreau Brotherhood #16)

Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

T he visit to the police station had been chaotic, but at least it was over. Suzanna had grown sick of seeing the inside of police stations over the last few months, ever since her husband’s death. They all tended to blend into the same nightmare of stale coffee, the stench of tobacco, and the fragrant ripeness of unwashed body odor. She’d answered Officer Turner’s questions about her assailant, without embellishing anything. The reality was explicit enough for a movie of the week, with her cast in the role of damsel in distress. She hated that. All her life she’d done everything to keep from falling into the stereotype of the poor helpless female.

Gage had added a few new details of what he’d observed when he’d gotten to her room. Honestly, when he’d first arrived and kicked down the door, she’d been in shock over being hit by the masked man, so those few crucial minutes were kind of a blur.

How had this become her life? Before Steven’s death, the closest she’d come to law enforcement was donating money to local charities and funding Texas benevolent organizations to help the spouses and children of officers killed in the line of duty. Now she was in the middle of not one but two police investigations, and she had the feeling both investigating officers didn’t quite believe her account of the facts.

“We’re done here.” Gage held open the door of the interrogation room, and ushered her out. Holding her head high, she walked past the bullpen, feeling the eyes of most of the people gathered there. Oh, how she hated being the center of attention, knowing she was being judged, and found lacking.

“I hate this,” she whispered, walking faster toward the front doors. She couldn’t breathe. Needed to get outside, away from so many people. It felt like the police station walls were closing in, suffocating her, and black spots appeared on the edges of her vision.

Not now. Don’t let me fall apart in front of all these people. Not in front of Gage. It’s just a few more feel. I can do this. Put one step in front of the other. I can see the doors. They aren’t going to try and stop me. They aren’t going to arrest me. Detective Jansen isn’t here. Only Gage. He believes me. He won’t let them lock me up, put me in a cage. Only a few more feet, one step. Then another. Breath, Suzanna, just breathe. You’re almost out.

Gage threw open the glass front door, and she stepped through. The weight pressing down on her lifted with each step, and she drew in a deep breath, the first one she’d taken since walking inside the NOPD. Her reaction to going to the police department was irrational, she knew it, but try as she might, she couldn’t fight the overwhelming claustrophobic feeling it engendered.

“Take a deep breath. You’re okay now. You did great.”

She shook her head, giving a self-deprecating laugh. “I barely held it together. I don’t know why I freeze up the minute I step inside a police station.”

“It’s not unusual. Most people never see the inside of an actual police station, but I’m guessing you’ve seen more than your fair share of them in the past few months.”

“I’m that obvious, huh? Before Steven’s death, I’d never even seen one. Now I could probably draw the floorplan for you from memory.”

“Well, Turner’s got everything he needs, so you won’t be seeing the inside of the NOPD again. We’re going to head over to Carpenter Security and get a couple of guys assigned to protect you.”

“I really think hiring bodyguards is a bit of overkill.”

Gage lightly grabbed her arm, stopping her. “You were almost kidnapped this morning. The guy shot you.” He glared at the white bandage on her bare upper arm. “It’s not overkill, it is a logical and preemptive step in keeping you safe. Whether you like it or not, you need professional protection for your own safety. You are a wealthy woman. You were traveling alone. That makes you an ideal target for every nut job out there looking to score a large chunk of cash.”

“I want to go on the record as saying I hate this.” She blew out a short breath. “I’ve never had to worry about myself. I’ve always gone anywhere I wanted, hopped in the car and drove across Dallas-Fort Worth without having to worry about somebody trying to hurt me. Now I’m feeling vulnerable and exposed and I hate it.”

“You didn’t have a driver?”

“Sometimes.” Gage simply looked at her before shaking his head and letting go of her arm. “What?”

“I’d bet your driver was also a trained bodyguard your husband hired. He wouldn’t have wanted you unprotected.” He paused a second. “It’s what I’d have done if I was your husband.”

A tingling feeling shot through her at his words. She couldn’t imagine Gage Newsome as her husband. He was the opposite of Steven in every way. Where Steven was light, Gage was the other side of the coin. Dark and sleek, with an edge of danger. Steven had been older and though no one knew, he’d stared feeling ill recently. Gage exuded health and strength, his body toned and fit. She couldn’t help noticing his muscles beneath the dark T-shirt.

“I feel like such a fool. When Brandon said to meet you, I thought doing it some place outside of Dallas would be a good idea. I picked New Orleans because it’s far enough away I stupidly thought people wouldn’t know me, wouldn’t necessarily recognize me. You know, the whole Black Widow thing. I wanted to escape the accusations of being a murderer. I thought coming to New Orleans would be a short reprieve, an escape. I hoped…”

“You hoped what, Suzanna?”

Her gaze met his. “I hoped that just for a minute I could simply be me, in a town where there was magic. I’m not talking voodoo or vampires. No, I mean the kind of magic you find in a place where there’s history. Where people have lived and loved for hundreds of years. Where there are customs and traditions and a bit of mystery. Instead, I’m plunged right back into the center of a whirlwind, being tossed about with no control.”

Gage reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. She felt like an idiot, having revealed so much to him. Good grief, she’d only met the man last night, and here she was spilling her guts to him. What was it about Gage that she felt so—comfortable—around him?

“I get it. I’ve been all over the world with my job, and sometimes I’d be dropped into the middle of cities where every street was steeped in history. There’s a kind of comfort in knowing that hundreds, maybe thousands of people have walked the same street you’re walking. Watched the same sunset you’re watching. It makes you feel not so…alone.”

She nodded slowly, surprised and touched that he really understood. More often than not she had a hard time explaining to people her affinity with being alone. It wasn’t that she was lonely, or aloof, or standoffish. She simply wanted to feel, to connect on a deeper level. Funny how Gage got it.

They started walking again, and Gage held onto her hand as they meandered through the crowds. She didn’t try and fool herself that his holding her hand was anything more than him keeping her close to protect her. After this morning, she had to admit it was kind of nice to know somebody cared. While she hated the thought of a bodyguard watching over her, the lack of privacy it would afford, she understood the necessity. It wouldn’t be forever, only until she was able to clear her name and the threat of prison hanging over her head. Because if she couldn’t handle simply going in the police station, how was she possibly going to make it if she went to prison?

Before long, they stopped in front of a large brick building, the red bricks giving the multistory complex an old-fashioned appearance, allowing it to blend into the surrounding properties, but she could see the modern touches. A glass-front door with large windows on either side gleamed in the sunlight. Gage released her hand, and held open the door, allowing her to precede him inside.

A large yet comfortable reception area welcoming them, soft music playing in the background. A blonde woman sat behind the modern desk, a headset with microphone on her head. She held up one hand, indicating they wait, and she smiled and mouthed the word “sorry” while she listened to whoever was on the other end of the call. It didn’t take long before she finished and stood.

“Sorry about that. It’s been extra busy today. I’m Stephanie, welcome to Carpenter Security Services. How can I help you?”

“Gage Newsome and Suzanna Dawkins. Jean-Luc Boudreau is expecting us.”

Stephanie’s smile grew wider. “Of course. They’re gathered in the conference room, if you’ll follow me.”

Suzanna followed Stephanie down a hall to a large conference room on the right, where several large men were, some seated and some standing or leaning against the back wall. Jean-Luc stood at the front, a dark-haired woman plastered against his side, her head resting on his shoulder. From his besotted expression, Suzanna assumed this was his wife. The one he’d mentioned had morning sickness.

“Did you get everything straightened out at the police station?” The man who asked was tall, broad-shouldered and bore a strong resemblance to Jean-Luc. She assumed he had to be one of his brothers. Gage had mentioned earlier that Jean-Luc had four brothers and a sister, all of who were associated with Carpenter Security in some way. Samuel Carpenter owned the company, and was a hands-on owner, who kept track of and was involved with every case. Probably why his company was such a success.

“Yes,” Gage answered before leading her to one of the empty chairs, and taking a seat next to hers. With this many people in the room, Suzanna felt uneasy, especially since they were all unknown, so she did what she always did when dealing with crowds, slipping into her corporate wife persona. It was a shield, a mask she wore when she felt uncomfortable. Her stepmother had taught her all about adapting to her surroundings, how to become like a chameleon, being able to talk to and blend in with those around her. Her stepmother had been an expert at showing people what they wanted to see. It had gotten her through three marriages and elaborate and expensive divorces which set her up financially in the lifestyle she craved. Though Suzanna knew it would never be enough. Janelle was a social vampire, draining the lifeblood and fortunes of those foolish enough to fall into her web.

“Mrs. Dawkins, thanks for meeting us here, it’s simpler and we have more room than meeting at your hotel. Plus it gives them time to fix the broken door.” Jean-Luc brushed a kiss against his wife’s forehead and walked her to the door. He watched her walk away before turning his attention back to the room. “These are my brothers Etienne, Sebastian and Ranger. The other two men are Gunner Everett and Stefan Carlisle, who is one of our computer experts.”

“Hello. Thank you gentleman for agreeing to work with us.” She gave a carefully controlled nod, though inside she wanted to sprint from the room. The only thing keeping her in her seat was Gage being there. Somehow he’d become her rock, her foundation, grounding her in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. Used to feeling rudderless in a raging sea, this feeling of calm she felt around him not only startled her, but intrigued her. She knew there was a wildness in him, that edge of danger below the surface, yet he didn’t frighten her. Being near him instead gave her a feeling of…peace.

“I assume Jean-Luc has filled you in on what happened this morning?” Each man nodded at Gage’s question. “Good. You’re also aware that Ms. Dawkins is one of the prime suspects in her husband’s murder. I’ve been brought onto the case to not only prove that she didn’t do it, but also to discover who did, so we can clear her name.”

“I’ve had Stefan doing so digging into what he can find online regarding Steven Dawkins death. The death certificate has classified the case as a homicide. The preliminary autopsy report is interesting. Have you seen a copy of it yet?” When Gage shook his head, Stefan passed him a printed copy. He’d barely started reading when he looked up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Jean-Luc smirked. “I had the same reaction when I saw the report. How many times have you seen an autopsy that took less than thirty-five minutes to complete? Especially one for someone like Steven Dawkins? The police already knew from the minute they got on the scene that it was a homicide. The cause of death was pretty apparent, but there’s no way any autopsy should be done that quickly.”

“The D.A. didn’t question an autopsy this short? That’s a huge red flag. Suzanna’s attorney will hammer the medical examiner over this. Why the rush?” Gage turned to Suzanna. “Was your husband under medical care with a physician? Did he have any kind of medical condition you were aware of?”

“The only medication Steven was on was an inhaler for his asthma. He’d been to his physician about six weeks before he was—killed—and got a clean bill of health. He was having a workup for dizziness, but they hadn’t found anything.” Suzanna kept looking between Jean-Luc and Gage, watched as they had some sort of unspoken conversation between them. Typical men, she thought.

“What about his funeral? Anything unusual about it?” Gage continued to shoot questions at her at a rapid rate. She didn’t hesitate in her responses.

“Not really. His business partner took care of all the details. I was kind of in shock between his death and being questioned by the police, the FBI, and a bunch of other people.”

“Other people? What other people?” Gage turned toward her, his expression guarded. She wanted to demand he tell her what he was thinking, but thought better of it in the crowded room.

“They were some men from the government. They asked me a lot of questions about what Steven was working on, how many people knew about his projects. Things like that. My attorney was present the whole time.”

“I’m definitely going to need to talk to your attorney.”

“I’ll call him and let him know to get in touch with you.”

Gage turned back toward Jean-Luc. “I had planned to head back to Dallas with Suzanna tomorrow, but with what happened this morning, I’d rather have her someplace where I know she’ll be safe, especially while I’m investigating her husband’s death.”

“Good idea. Did you have any place in particular in mind? We have several safe houses in and around New Orleans where we could stash her indefinitely.”

Suzanna stood and leaned forward, palms against the tabletop. “Wait just one second. I’m not going to be wrapped in bubble wrap and placed on a shelf like some fragile doll. I want to find whoever killed my husband. I’m the one who has everything at stake. I’m sure you’re all good at your jobs, but I won’t be pushed aside.”

“Nobody’s going to keep you out of the loop, Suzanna. But there are going to be times when I need to talk to people involved with your husband’s death, and if you’re there, they won’t feel free to talk to me. Add in the fact somebody’s obviously trying to frame you for his death, and what happened this morning and you’re talking about a recipe for disaster.”

She glared at him, hating that his words made sense.

“I don’t want to be handled like I’m incompetent or treated like I don’t have a brain in my head. I came to New Orleans to meet with you, but I have responsibilities in Texas. I can’t simply sit back and twiddle my thumbs.”

“Nobody is asking you to do that. I’m simply asking you not to be in Dallas for the next week or two.” Gage didn’t back down, meeting her challenge head on. A little part of her liked that, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

“Guys, how do we know Ms. Dawkins’ husband’s death and today’s incident aren’t related? Sure, they seem to be individual and isolated, but what if they are somehow connected?” Gunner’s question brought silence to the room, and Suzanna’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought there might be a connection.

“Good question. Ms. Dawkins, how many people knew you were coming to New Orleans? Who did you tell?”

“Um, my best friend, Allison. Trust me, she’d never tell anybody. Besides, she’s in L.A. right now, up to her eyeballs in her latest design project. I told my assistant, Dorothy. She made the travel arrangements, got the plane tickets and the hotel reservation. Dorothy had worked for my husband for years, and she’s been working for me since his death. Brandon McKinney, because he’s the one who recommended I talk with Gage about helping me find out who killed my husband. That’s all.”

She watched Stefan furiously typing on his laptop. “Brandon McKinney, got it. I need last names for Dorothy and Allison. I can get them, but it’ll be faster if you give ’em to me.”

“Allison Stuart. She’s an interior designer. Dorothy Granger. She’s been with my husband’s company for at least a decade. Basically his right hand, knows everything about his company and what my husband and his partner were working on.” Suzanna drew in a deep breath. “None of these people would betray me. I’d stake my life on it.”

“You might be,” she heard the muttered response, but couldn’t tell who said it.

“Stefan will do a background check on each, just as a precaution.” Jean-Luc gave her a conciliatory smile, and Suzanna fought the urge to roll her eyes. These people didn’t know her friends, not the way she did. She’d give her life for any of them, and she knew they’d do the same. Checking into them would be a huge waste of time.

“Let’s get a schedule set up for the new few days. By then, I should have a better handle on things.”

Suzanna sat down, watching him closely. She wasn’t sure she liked the look in his eyes, like he’d made a decision that gave him a sense of satisfaction, and a devilish grin crept across his lips. Oh, yeah, he was up to something and she had the feeling she wasn’t going to like whatever it was.

“Bas and Ranger are going to cover twelve hour on/off shifts for the next couple of days. We’ll toss Etienne into the rotation as needed.” Jean-Luc gestured toward his brothers as he spoke.

Gage nodded. “Hope y’all don’t mind going out of town for a few days.”

“Out of town? Thought we were setting Ms. Dawkins up in a safe house here.” Bas looked between Suzanna and Gage, and she shrugged. This was the first she was hearing about leaving town.

“I want to get Suzanna someplace where we’ve got a good chance of keeping her safe. Dallas is too big, logistically it would be a nightmare to try and keep her out of the public eye twenty-four/seven. And I don’t want her to have to be stuck in her home and not be able to go anywhere or be able to talk to anybody while I digging into our mystery. So, I’m taking her some place where she’ll be surrounded by people who I personally know will watch over her, keep her safe. The place is secure with state-of-the-art security, monitoring done not only by the company who installed and created it, but also by a computer expert who’s the best I’ve ever seen. No offense, Stefan.”

Suzanna watched as Jean-Luc’s shoulders stated shaking, trying to hold back his laughter without much success.

“What’s so funny?”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just I think Gage’s idea is brilliant. I couldn’t have picked a better place myself.” Jean-Luc slapped Bas on the shoulder. “Hope you’re ready for a road trip to visit family.”

His eyes widened. “You mean…”

“Yep, looks like we’re headed to Shiloh Springs.”