“He was the only one to buy in.” Beau’s eyes widen at my words. “Guidry bought every lot.”
Beau stands tall, back on the top step of the porch. I tilt my head up just to keep eye contact. Not only is he tall, but he’s oh-so close right now. Something that makes me flutter a little, even when his words are heavy. “So. Not only does Guidry own the loyalty of everyone living inLa Lumiere, he owns all of their homes too.”
“Yeah. That about sums it up.”
Beau isn’t happy.
I give him a questioning look.
“The more I learn about this man, the more questions I have.” He shakes his head—more, it seems, to himself than me. His gaze goes to the street or, maybe, somewhere else entirely.
When he finds whatever it is he’s looking for, his tone changes to hard.
Concrete.
Definitive.
He grabs my hand, and even if he’d been whispering, I would’ve still shivered at his words. “Kissy, I’m going to figure this all out. One way or the other, I’m going to help you and everyone in this town get some answers. Get some peace. You have my word. Okay?”
He could’ve promised me the world, a pony, and a million Starbucks lattes, and I would’ve answered the same. “Okay.”
I didn’t know it right then, but I’d find out soon enough how much him making that promise meant to him.
I’d also find out how far he’d go to keep it.
But right now, all I can do is look into true blue eyes and marvel at how warm his hand is around mine.
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Beau
The house isa lot more interesting now that I’m not fighting a man who’s trying to hurt Kissy. I walk over the threshold of the two-story and admire that, while it’s neat and orderly, it’s something Guidry’s house had been sorely lacking.
It’s warm.
“You’re more of an expert than me on stuff like this, but how long before my house doesn’t give me the heebie-jeebies?”
I’m ahead of Kissy, but her words pull me back. Her gaze dances across the hardwoods and doorways.
She’s scared and tensed, and no one can blame her for that.
“It depends on a lot of things—what happened, the person it happened to, and if the perp was caught or not. But it usually takes a bit regardless. It’s not easy to move past your safe space being violated.”
Kissy nods with reluctance. “I guess it speaks better for me to be affected rather than unaffected.”
“You’d be surprised how much some people can suppress their emotions after a trauma. I think it’s definitely good that you’re admitting you have some now.”
She hasn’t asked me to check her house, but I do. I have my bat with me again, and I go room by room, methodical and aware.
In my tour, I noticed that the warmth I’m feeling comes down to the photos on the walls, old and new, and the sheer amount of throw pills and oversized blankets. The house isn’t just lived-in, it tells the story of a woman who likes to, I assume, bundle up often. After I find her back in the living room and give her the all-clear, I have to say something about the latter.
“Do you have trouble regulating your body temperature?” I grin, but she has an eyebrow up. Then she catches on with a quick laugh.
“Ah, so you’ve seen all of my blankets. Yeah, no, I don’t have a problem regulating body temperature. What Idohave a problem with is lounging without feeling like I’m on a cloud.” She shrugs. “I think I picked that up from Mama, though. Apparently, she used to drive my daddy wild with over-buying anything that was soft, warm, and filled with stuffing.”
I can tell Kissy wants to go to the kitchen, so I make my way there first. She follows and pauses in front of the refrigerator. When she recounted her attack to Detective Wayland the night before, her voice wobbled while describing the first hit.
The man had blindsided her good.
