for a tidy sum to a company that needed land to expand, then he invested the money. One thing had led to another, until years passed and he had become known as what some might call a corporate shark. He did what he did without apology, but he did it while maintaining his hometown residency in Baton Rouge.
Mike could have lived an opulent lifestyle in any of the country’s big cities, with limousines and fine dining, and beautiful women at his beck and call, but he’d chosen not to. He was tall and lean, with black hair and green eyes, and a stubborn streak inherited from his Cajun ancestors. And when he’d made his first million dollars, he’d renovated the old Boudreaux plantation outside of Baton Rouge and had lived there ever since. He traveled all over the world when job and duty called, but his roots ran deep in the Louisiana bayous.
For the past few years, Susan Blackwell had been a large part of his life. Now he had to face that she was gone. Sad for himself, and for the woman before him, he laid a hand on her arm.
Cari stirred as she felt his touch. When she opened her eyes, their gazes locked. Hers was unflinching. And in that moment, Mike made a promise.
“I’ll help you through this. I’ll make sure you stay safe.”
Cari sighed, then bit the inside of her lip to keep from crying. “Then you need to start by calling me Susan.”
“Right,” Mike said, then stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets. “For now, just know I’ve got your back.”
A huge weight had suddenly been lifted from Cari’s shoulders. “Thank you.”
“It’s the least I can do…for Susan,” Mike said, as his voice broke.
Tears welled again, but Cari blinked them away. “For Susan,” she echoed.
At that point the nurse came back and shot a syringe full of something into Cari’s IV. A few minutes later, Cari was out.
But Mike wasn’t sleeping. He’d made a promise, and he didn’t make those lightly. He was already on a mission to find out all he could about Lance Morgan. Finding Morgan’s weakness would be the first step in learning the identity of the man he’d murdered, which would also be the first step in making sure Carolina North stayed alive.
By the time Lance reached Bordelaise, it was obvious the tornado’s damage was widespread. Houses were missing roofs. Trees were down everywhere, as were a large number of power lines. Even a cell phone tower had been twisted into a tangle of wire and metal, probably the reason he’d been unable to reach 911.
Main Street was a melee of cop cars, ambulances and fire trucks from at least half a dozen neighboring communities. It was obvious that the tornado had been on the ground when it came through town. The courthouse and nearby jail had taken direct hits, as had a grocery store, a lawyer’s office and a beauty shop. He didn’t know where to go to notify rescue services about the Norths.
Finally, when he’d driven as far as he could go, he parked, then started walking. Then someone called his name.
“Hey! Lance!”
He turned around. It was Lee Tullius, one of the parish police officers, standing by a panel van. Lance started toward him at a jog.
“Thank God you’re here!” Lee said. “We need some able-bodied volunteers to help move residents from the nursing home into the hospital.”
“I’ll be glad to help,” Lance said. “But I came into town to report three deaths.”
Lee paused, then put down the cots he’d been unloading. “Who and where?”
“Out at the Norths. Frank, Maggie and Cari are all dead. I drove over there right after the storm and…”
His voice broke. He didn’t have to fake the tears in his voice and eyes.
Lee knew Lance and Cari had once been a couple, and that they’d grown up together.
“Well, damn. I’m really sorry to hear that,” he said, then gritted his teeth. “This might sound cruel, but right now, we’re trying to focus on the living.”
“But they’re just…they’re lying out in the open. Birds…animals…just anything could get them.”
Lee sighed, picturing the pretty, dark-haired girl he’d known who’d grown up to become a famous writer, then palmed his radio. “Tullius here. Over.”
Vera Samuels, the daytime dispatcher at the police department, picked up. “Go ahead, Lee. Over.”
“Got a report of three dead bodies at the Frank North farm southeast of Bordelaise. Need them picked up ASAP. Over.”
Vera started to cry. “All of them? Over.”
“Ten-four,” Lee said. “We need the bodies retrieved before the animals get to them. Over.”
“Oh my God…I went to school with Cari,” Vera said, as she struggled to speak through tears.
“So did I,” Lee responded. “Get some people out there, and get them back as fast as possible. I’m afraid they won’t be the only ones. Over.”
“Ten-four and out,” Vera said.
Lee hooked the handheld back onto his belt loop and then looked at Lance.
“Mission accomplished. Now, about the nursing home…”
“Right,” Lance said, and started down the street at a lope.
By the time the last residents of the nursing home had been moved to the hospital, Lance was muddy and sick to his stomach. One old fellow, a man named Warren, had died in his arms on the way out of the building. Because the man was wheelchair-bound, Lance had been forced to pick him up and carry him through the debris-strewn hallways. He hadn’t known the guy was dead until he went to put him down on a gurney outside to be taken to the hospital.
“This one’s gone,” the EMT said.
Lance’s eyes had widened in disbelief. “That’s impossible,” he said. “He was talking to me when I picked him up.”
“Too much stress and strain,” the EMT said. “Don’t worry about it. No one’s going to blame you.”
Maybe not for this one, Lance thought, and once again, accepted his unbelievable luck that Cari North had perished only minutes after walking up on him in the act of hiding a crime. He shook off the shock and nervously swiped his hands down the front of his shirt.
“He was the last one on that wing,” Lance said.
The EMT nodded. “Then he’s the last one period,” he said. “Report back to the town square. It’s where emergency services has set up office. I’m sure someone else could use your help. We also have a missing kid.”
“Oh, no, who?” Lance asked.
“J.R. and Katie Earle’s little boy, Bobby.”
Lance tried to remember what the little boy looked like but couldn’t. All he could do was shake his head as he walked away. On the way back
