“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.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Gage pulled thecar to a stop in front of the Big House, the family’s fond name for the Boudreau ranch. The foster kids had come up with it, because at first they looked on their lives at the sprawling homestead as a jail sentence—until they learned to love not only the land but the people living there.
Like he had, even though that time had been cut short.
“It’s beautiful.” Suzanna unbuckled her seatbelt and stared at the two-story home. Its size was deceptively small in appearance, yet Gage knew the rooms were large and comfortable, with more than enough room to house a whole passel of young’uns at any given time while he’d been growing up. The white paint gleamed in the sunlight, the dark green shutters on each side of the windows crisp and colorful. A large wraparound porch covered the entire front of the home, with columns reaching all the way to the second story. To the left there was a porch swing, one he knew was Ms. Patti’s favorite place to relax after a long day at the real estate office. When he’d been a kid, he’d lost count of how many times Douglas and Ms. Patti could be found together on the front porch, swinging in the evening breeze.
“Welcome to the Boudreau ranch. It’s a great place, and you are going to love the family who lives here.”
“Are you sure they won’t mind my showing up like this? I don’t want to bring any of my drama into their lives.”
Gage chuckled. “Don’t worry, Douglas and Ms. Patti are adept at dealing with unexpected crises cropping up around here. They’re old pros at dealing with the unexpected.”
“Still, it seems like a huge imposition to have me show up with bodyguards in tow, expecting them to let me invade their home. You can’t tell me that’s not a huge imposition.”
“I promise they are not going to be anything but thrilled you’re staying with them, especially if they believe you’re a friend of mind. Ms. Patti’s always trying to get me to visit more, and she’ll look at you’re being here as a way to keep me around.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Really. Plus Bas and Ranger are their nephews. Gator, their father, is Douglas’ brother, so they are family. It’s gonna be like Old Home Week around here. I’m pretty sure if Jean-Luc’s wife wasn’t suffering from severe bouts of morning sickness, he’d have been the first one to volunteer for bodyguard duty, just so he could come to Shiloh Springs.”
“Shiloh Springs, that’s the town we drove through on our way here? It seemed like a lovely place. Main Street was lovely, all those shop and the bright colored awnings and flowers. It almost seems like a place out of time, something you’d see out of the fifties or sixties, not the twenty-first century.”
“Trust me, Suzanna, Shiloh Springs might be a small town but they are up to date on the things that matter. Take this ranch. We’ve got state-of-the-art security, installed by the owners’ son, who designed this package specifically for his family after a child was kidnapped. It has since been upgraded by their daughter-in-law who is a computer genius. Nobody and I mean nobody, gets on this property now who’s not supposed to be here.”
“That’s good to know. It’s just…I hate this. All of this. Not the Boudreaus, I’m sure they’re lovely people. I mean everything else. I hate that my husband is dead. He was a wonderful manand didn’t deserve to be killed. I hate that the police think I could actually murder my husband and then crawl back into bed beside him. How obscenely gross is that? I hate that people look at me like they want to see a murderer. It’s morbidly exciting and titillating for them, to think they know an actual killer. People don’t see me anymore, they see the gold-digging wife who killed her husband and is just waiting to get her hands on all his money. It’s morbid and hateful, and I’m so tired of it all.”
What could he say to that? Did he believe she killed her husband in cold blood? No. Proving it now was his job, but it was going to be an uphill battle. From the little he’d found out, everything pointed toward Suzanna as the killer. She’d had motive—money—being the rich widow of an older man. She had opportunity—he was beside her in the bed sleeping. It would have been easy to stab him, deliver the fatal blow. Being found next to him, a good prosecutor could manipulate that in a number of ways to make her look guilty. And she had means—the knife used in the attack had been found lying on the floor beside the bed. It had her fingerprints all over it, which made Suzanna appear guilty.
“We’re here now, and you’ll find nobody here is going to look at you as anything but a beautiful woman who needs a place to get away from the rest of the world for a little while. Trust me, the Boudreaus are going to treat you like you’re part of the family, and you’re going to wonder how you ever got along without knowing them. It’s their special gift, like their very own super power.”
Suzanna chuckled at his joke, not knowing he really meant it. He’d met all kinds of people in his line of work, from the lowest, deadliest criminals, the real scum of the earth, to the nicest folks in the world, and yet in his eyes, nobody measured up to the standard set by Douglas and Patricia Boudreau. And if he wasbeing honest, he’d have to include their entire clan, because they were all part and parcel of the family.
A dark gray SUV pulled up beside them on the gravel drive and parked. Bas and Ranger Boudreau climbed out, and immediately headed for the front porch. He knew they’d called ahead, giving the family a head’s up they were coming.
“Come on, Suzanna, let’s go see the Boudreaus.”
“I hope I don’t regret this.”
You won’t, I thought, thinking about Ms. Patti. Knowing her, she’d take one look at Suzanna, and within minutes, she’d been sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of sweet tea and three chocolate chip cookies in front of her. The woman was a born nurturer.
By the time they’d climbed from the car, Bas and Ranger stood on the porch with Douglas and Dane. There was a bunch of hugs and back pounding between the family, and he felt a pang in his chest. He’d missed this place when he was a kid and had been practically snatched up by the government to be educated and work for them, doing clandestine work most people would never know about. But even as an adult, he’d kept watch over the Boudreaus. Knew every detail about the family, including when each brother met their significant other. Now he was back, even if it was on the periphery of the family. He’d admit that was partly his own fault, because he still held himself aloof from everyone. The life he lived, the world he was part of—he didn’t want any of that to taint this family.
“Don’t just stand there, son, come on up here and bring the young lady with you. Patricia’s in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on supper.”
Douglas motioned them forward as he spoke, and I felt rather than saw Suzanna pause for the slightest moment. Probably less than a heartbeat, but the tiniest jolt of insecurity. Most of the time she was a strong, confident woman, fightingto be seen above the alleged murder rap she was facing. But beneath that façade was a scared girl, searching for something. He hadn’t figured out exactly what, but he would, and he’d do his best to give it to her.
“Douglas, I’d like you to meet Suzanna Dawkins. Suzanna, this is Douglas Boudreau.”
“Mr. Boudreau, it’s an honor to meet you.” She held out her hand and Douglas took it, his large, work-hardened hands seeming to engulf her smaller one. Beside the mountain of a main, Suzanna looked almost tiny. Then again, most people looked smaller beside Douglas.
“Please, call me Douglas. We don’t stand on formality around here. Come inside and meet my wife.” Douglas tucked Suzanna’s hand in the crook of his arm and led her through the front door, leaving the men standing on the porch.
