Ghostwalker 03 - Night Game

protected and defended, she still felt like that unwanted child.

    She forced a lighter note into her voice. “Thanks, Monsieur le Capitaine .” Deliberately she looked at him, blew him a kiss. “I’m a wanderer. I love to see new places. I can’t imagine staying in the same place all the time. It’s a good trait to have. If I didn’t, I’d never have had the pleasure of meeting you.”

    “You’re good for an old man’s soul, Flame.” His gaze narrowed on her choker. “What’s that on your neck? It looks like bruises.”

    “Does it?” She fingered the choker, drawing it up closer around her trachea. “How odd. I hope the dye isn’t rubbing off. I’d better go check.” Before he could look again, Flame was already halfway across the deck to jerk open the door.

    She inspected her neck beneath the choker. The bruises were darkening and spreading.
    Swearing softly, she tossed the choker aside and grabbed a scarf that nearly matched the color of her dress and wrapped it artfully around her neck. As long as she avoided Raoul Fontenot she’d be fine. Otherwise, he might very well take advantage and strangle her after what she’d said and implied to his grandmother.

    Laughing aloud, she rejoined Burrell on the deck. “It was the choker. Does this look okay?”

    “Beautiful,” he replied, once more puffing on his pipe.

    “You don’t happen to know the Fontenot family, do you? They live in this parish.”

    The captain burst out laughing. “Fontenot is a very common name in this part of the country, cher . I need a little more information.”

    “I think the boys were raised by their grandmother. One of the boys is named Raoul and another Wyatt.”

    Burrell sat back in his chair nodding. “Good family. Oldest boy, Raoul took off to join the service but always sent his money to his grandmother to help care for the other boys.
    They’re wild and Raoul had a certain reputation for fightin’.” He winked at her. “All those boys have a way with the ladies, so you look out for them. Don’ you go off with any of them and don’ you believe their sweet talk.”

    “No worries, Capitaine . I have no intention of ever getting that close to any of the Fontenot men.” She glanced again at her watch. “I’ve got to go.” She leaned down to kiss the top of his head. “You guard that money. Don’t say a word about it until you have a cashier’s check to give to Saunders. I’ll go with you when you pay him off. You’ll want a witness with you. And behave when I’m gone. I saw you giving old Mrs. Michaud that cute little come-on smile of yours.” She waved as she stepped off the houseboat into the airboat tied up beside it. He waved her off with a dismissing hand and a pleased grin. The last she saw of him, he was happily puffing away on his pipe.

CHAPTER 5
    C:\DOCUME~1\Owner\LOCALS~1\Temp\Feehan, Christine - %5bGhost Walkers 3%5d
    - Night Game (v1.5).html - chapter_4#chapter_4

    Gator sat back in his chair, legs sprawled lazily in front of him, his fingers tapping a rhythm on the tabletop in beat to the music. The tapping allowed him to stay focused when each beat of the crashing instruments and the strands of conversations felt like nails pounding into his skull. He couldn’t take much more. And it wasn’t doing him a whole hell of a lot of good. He’d managed to hear two conversations regarding Joy. The first took place out side the walls of the cabin, whispered words of anger and conspiracy—
    brothers and friends wanting vengeance. In the second conversation two women had mentioned her in passing as they reminded each other to watch their drinks at all times.

    He rubbed his temples, felt beads of sweat forming on his brow. Even his hair was slightly damp from the strain of sorting through the cacophony. Lily had been correct when she said the trick of listening to conversations at a great distance, even through walls, was to be able to sort out the multitude of noise. His head was about to explode.
    Even his teeth hurt. He needed to go somewhere quiet and peaceful, somewhere he could be alone to listen to the stillness of the night. He tried to suppress the sounds crowding in around him, but nothing worked. He reached inside of himself in an attempt to silence the myriad voices around him, to find the stillness in his mind that was his haven, but nothing could stop the noise from beating at his brain.

    His stomach lurched. He was on serious overload. A stupid mistake, One he