Читать книгу A Father's Duty - Joanna Wayne - Страница 13

Tanner had spent half the night searching for leads, and he was bone-tired when he got the message that Georgette Delacroix was in the front office of Crescent City Transports and asking to see him—again. For some reason the news didn’t surprise him, maybe because the exotic beauty with the strange habit of blacking out on him had been on his mind far too often since she’d swayed against him in the conference room.

One of the weird things about being a man. No matter what was on your mind, your libido could come into play at the first touch of a seductive woman’s body. But Georgette had concerned him more than she’d aroused him. Something was going on with her, though she obviously wasn’t going to explain it to him.

Whatever her reasons, she was zeroing in on him, so once again Tanner grabbed his uniform from the hook on the back of the door and went off to meet the intriguing and very inquisitive attorney.

GEORGETTE LOOKED UP when Tanner walked into the conference room.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he said, offering a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I won’t keep you but a minute.”

He looked at his watch as if he were going to time her. “How can I help you?”

“I seem to have lost a notebook, and I thought perhaps it fell out of my briefcase when I was here the other day.”

“If it did, I didn’t see it. I can check in the office to see if anyone’s turned it in.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I’d appreciate that.”

“So what are we looking for? Small? Large? Some kind of binder?”

“Letter-size with a black leather cover,” she lied.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

She slid onto one of the chairs and opened her briefcase. She’d scribbled some notes after driving over, mostly impressions from the nightmare. She couldn’t tell Tanner about her visions, but her operational plan involved more than a fictitious notebook.

If Sebastion found out about this, he’d raise all kinds of hell, scream that she was overstepping her bounds and that she should be spending her time concentrating on the cases she had going to trial. But then Sebastion was frequently in a foul mood these days even if she didn’t give him reason to complain.

Georgette pulled out the pencil sketch she’d done in the parking lot before coming inside to see Tanner. It was a recognizably close match to the young woman from the visions. Long straight hair, petite, probably no more than a size four. Big eyes. Full lips. Light brows, not too thick. A classic nose. Face slightly oblong, almost regal. And very young. Now all she had to do was study Tanner’s reaction when he saw the drawing.

But while she was sitting there, a new image flew into her mind. This time it was a dark-haired, Hispanic man with slicked-back hair and tattoos all over his biceps.

She started to draw, filling in the features, her fingers flying as she transferred his likeness to the page, so lost in what she was doing that she didn’t hear Tanner when he walked up behind her.

“What do you know about Lily?”

The pencil dropped from Georgette’s hand and rolled to the middle of the table. She turned and stared at Tanner. Anger darkened his face and clamped his jaw tight. There was no doubt she’d hit a nerve.

“Lily?”

“You know damn well who I’m talking about.” He reached behind him, hooked the door and slammed it shut. “The girl in the picture. Where is she?”

“You’re asking me?”

He grabbed her arm and tugged her to her feet. “Don’t play games with me, Georgette.”

“I’m not playing.”

“So what do you call it? You come in here in your little power suit, flash a business card that says you’re from the D.A.’s office and ask me the same questions over and over.” He picked up her drawings and shook them in her face. “Now you show me a sketch of my daughter and some muscular thug.”

His daughter. Surely not, but when she met his gaze and saw the distress in his eyes, she was almost sure he was telling the truth.

“I didn’t know she was your daughter.”

“Why else would you be here with this picture?”

“I thought…” She caught herself before she blurted out too much. “I had information you were linked to the young woman in the drawing, but I never realized…”

“I don’t give a damn what you’ve heard about me. I’m only interested in one thing. Do you know where Lily is?”

She shook her head. “Not exactly.”

He tapped his finger on the burly ruffian she’d drawn. “Is she with this guy?”

“She could be.”

His grip tightened on her arm. “Tell me what you know about Lily, straight, none of your attorney double-talk.”

He was angry, demanding. She didn’t blame him, yet even now she wasn’t certain he was totally innocent in any of this. “How long has it been since you’ve seen your daughter?”

“Three years.”

Her suspicions swelled again.

Tanner dropped to a chair. “It’s not the way it sounds. Her mother and I are divorced, and Lily lived in London with her until a little over two months ago. She left there without telling me or her mother her plans. By the time I found out she was in New Orleans, she’d disappeared.”

“Your daughter flew all the way from London to New Orleans but didn’t contact you, not even after she’d arrived?”

“I was out of town and no one knew how to reach me. I’ve been searching for her since the day I got back. The only information I’ve been able to uncover is that she worked for Maurice Gaspard for a while.”

“As a prostitute?”

“So it seems.”

The pain pulled at his voice, and in spite of her doubts her heart went out to him. “I’m sorry, Tanner.”

“I don’t need your sympathy. Just give me answers.”

He was desperate for the truth, but there was no way to tell him what little she knew without explaining how she knew it. Georgette Delacroix, junior prosecutor with the D.A.’s office. Georgette Delacroix, psychic, with the ability to see things and feel things when there was no logical explanation for her powers.

…her blood will be on your hands.

“I need to get some air.”

“You’re not going to run out on me, Georgette, not until you level with me.”

She held on to the back of the chair with one hand and struggled for a deep settling breath. “I don’t know exactly where your daughter is, but she’s either in a swamp or has been in one recently. I think she’s running from someone.”

“Where did you get this information?”

“A source.”

“Who?”

“I can’t say.”

He put a hand under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. She trembled at the intensity of his anguish, but if she told him the truth, everything she’d worked for could be lost. Her career. Her chance to lead a normal life.

But if she kept her own dark secret safe, Tanner’s daughter might lose her life.

The curse of the Delacroix women.

“Talk, Georgette. South Louisiana is covered in swamps. I have to know more.”

Her insides quaked. “If I tell you the truth, you must promise never to tell a soul.”

He exhaled sharply and for a second she thought he’d say no. Finally, he released his hold on her and let his arms fall to his side. “I’ll promise whatever you want. Just tell me how you know about Lily.”

She looked away from him and stared out the window, unwilling to let him see how this was tearing her apart.

“I know because…” Her voice faltered. “I know because I have the gift.”

TANNER STOOD THERE, staring, while Georgette spun a tale that rivaled something from a late-night horror flick. “You actually expect me to believe that you fall into trances and see visions of Lily?”

“I’m not asking you to believe anything. I’m telling you the truth.”

He started to tell her he didn’t believe a word of it, but talking of this had transformed her from confident, intimidating attorney to someone who looked as if she might shatter and break at any moment. She picked up her briefcase as if she were ready to leave.

Tanner planted himself in front of the door. “You can’t tell me something like this and then walk out.”

“I have to go.”

Dammit. Her soft brown eyes were moist and she was shaking. The last thing he needed was to let her get to him. “Stay and talk to me,” he said, this time keeping his voice calm.

“Why stay if you don’t believe me?”

“I’m trying, so work with me. You say you have visions, but they only go so far. What do you have to do to nudge them up a notch?”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“Explain how it works.”

“The trances come at will.”

“There must be more to it than that.”

“No. I have no control over them. If I did, I’d never experience them at all. It’s not as if I enjoy being a freak.”

“When did you first have visions about Lily?”

“The night I ran into you in the hospital. You seem to be the link that joins me with Lily,” she admitted.

“We’re together now. Are you feeling anything—or seeing anything?”

“No.”

“Then we’ll stay together until you fall into another trance, or get the gift, or whatever you want to call it.”

“I can’t do that. I have to go back to the office.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No.”

He was losing patience fast. “It’s not like we have all the time in the world, Georgette. Hours count. Hell—minutes count.”

“Even if we’re together, the visions may not return.”

“But there’s a better chance that they will. You said it yourself. I’m the link.” He took her hands in his. “I’ll beg if that’s what you want. Just help me find Lily.”

She shuffled her feet, moved her gaze from him to her briefcase and back again. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. We can spend some time together then.”

“That won’t cut it. I don’t see a ring on your finger so I’m guessing you’re not married.”

“That has nothing to do with this.”

“It makes it easier for us to spend the weekend together.”

“I can’t spend the weekend with you.”

“You can’t spare one weekend to save a young woman’s life?”

She sighed, and he knew he was getting through to her. Great. He’d have hated to have to kidnap her.

“What is it you want from me, Tanner?”

“The same thing you wanted from me. Information. Is there anything we can do other than spend time together to improve the likelihood you’ll have another vision?”

“Location might help.”

“You mean, if we were in a swamp.”

“Perhaps. I don’t really know, Tanner. I’ve always tried to avoid the visions before.”

“We can start out tonight,” he said. “Drive south and find some swampy area and see what happens.”

She looked as if she were about to protest again. He didn’t give her a chance. “You need me to keep your psychic powers a secret, Georgette. Well, I need something from you, too. So, give me your address. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“There are no guarantees this will work, Tanner.”

“But it could, and I’ve tried everything else.”

“Okay. At seven.” She scribbled her home address and phone number on the back of one of her cards and handed it to him. “It’s a condominium complex in the Arts District. I’ll meet you out front.”

He opened the door for her. She hurried past him, as if she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. He watched as she headed down the hall and to the elevator—her lustrous black hair caressing her slender shoulders, that gray suit skirt ultra conservative but still short enough to show off her shapely calves.

Not the kind of woman you’d expect to utter talk of visions and psychic powers. Whether she was on the up-and-up or this was some kind of dirty scheme, he had no choice but to go along. They were linked together by a daughter he barely knew but would do anything in his power to keep safe.

His thoughts stayed with Lily as he ducked out of the main building and walked back to his own office. He’d find her. And then he’d tear out Maurice Gaspard’s heart with his bare hands and feed it to the rats in the streets.

SEBASTION’S OFFICE DOOR was open a crack. Georgette knocked lightly. “Do you have a minute?” she asked, when he looked up from the manila file folder he had open in front of him.

“Sure, come on in. Actually, I was about to see if you were back. I wanted to talk to you before you left for the weekend.”

“What about?”

“A problem, but let’s hear yours first.” He closed the file and pushed it to the front edge of his desk.

“It’s the disposition from Sara McManus.”

“Is that the Griffith murder trial?”

She nodded. “Sara changes the details every time she tells her story. The defense is going to rip her to shreds if I put her on the stand.”

“Isn’t she your only witness?”

“Yes, but the evidence stands by itself. We don’t have to have a witness.”

“Do you think she actually witnessed the murder?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why?”

“She gets so upset when she describes the actual stabbing that it’s impossible not to believe her.”

“That’s your answer, Georgette.”

“Then you think I should put her on the stand.”

“It’s your call. It’s a matter of whether or not you trust this particular jury.”

“Thanks for the input.” Sebastion was an excellent prosecutor, and she was constantly learning from him. “One other question.”

“Shoot.”

“Have you ever heard of a man named Tanner Harrison?”

“Why?”

“He’s the man who called the ambulance for the prostitute who was beaten to death a few nights ago.”