Page 19 of Gage
“Don’t bother trying to skip out on us,” Ranger seemed to read his mind, and Gage studied the man as they walked to his car. A few years older than himself, he still carried himself with a military air, even though Gage knew he’d left the service behind years prior. A former Navy SEAL, he’d been well respected by his teammates. He knew because after meeting with Gator in New Orleans, he’d done a little digging into the Cajun branch of the Boudreau family. While they were different than the Boudreaus he was used to, Douglas’ brother seemed to have instilled the same characteristics of honor, loyalty and family into the New Orleans Boudreaus.
“I’m not, I’ll take Bas with me. Wish I had time to ask Suzanna those questions Chance wants answers to, but if I’m going to get to Dallas while Detective Jansen’s on duty, I’ll need to book it.”
“Want me to ask her?”
Gage shook his head, climbing behind the wheel. “Thanks, but I think it’s better I do it. She came to me for help, there’s a better chance she’ll open up to me.
Pulling away from the court house, Gage thought about Suzanna, and about the connections to Sandoval Enterprises. He couldn’t picture somebody like Suzanna, a person full of sunshine and light, dealing with a monster like Sandoval. When he thought about the devil, Gustavo Sandoval was the picturethat popped into his head. They’d crossed paths on more than one occasion, with Sandoval walking away clean as a whistle. Somebody always took the fall for the man who stood at the top of the pile, because he was smart enough to keep his hands clean. Sandoval was Gage’s elusive white whale, his Moby Dick, and he was determined to make sure Gustavo Sandoval eventually paid for his treachery.
Gage couldn’t let him take Suzanna down, and something deep in his gut told him Sandoval was setting her up to take the fall for Dawkins murder. Yet Gage believed she was an innocent who had gotten caught up in something bigger than she realized, and he wasn’t about to let Gustavo Sandoval to pull her into his sadistic games.
In his head he heard the sound of a clock with its eerie tick, tick, tick, slowly counting down, and he realized he needed to prove Suzanna didn’t kill Steven Dawkins, before Gustavo Sandoval managed to frame her for the crime.
The big question was how could he prove she hadn’t killed her husband when all the evidence pointed to her as the only suspect?
CHAPTER NINE
The porch swingmoved gently beneath Suzanna, as she sat with one leg curled beneath her, the other gently propelling her backward and forward with an almost hypnotic rhythm. She loved the simplicity and peace of sitting on the Boudreau’s front porch, looking out at the expanse of lone oak trees and the velvety, lush green lawn. The Boudreau’s home reminded her of what she’d pictured in her mind when she’d thought about the kind of place she’d wanted to live in when she’d first been old enough to think about what she’d wanted from life. She’d never wanted the huge mansions filled with expensive material possessions or fancy cars. Status symbols of the rice and famous had never appealed. Probably because she’d grown up surrounded by those things, yet she’d never felt like the big house with its marble floors and giant staircases were home.
A childish fantasy, she realized now, of a simpler life with horses and chickens, a few goats and maybe a dog or two. Instead, she’d fallen into the trap of corporate wife with the big house, chauffeur-driven cars, and chairing fund-raising events had been thrust upon her even before she’d met Steven.
Steven. How she missed him. He’d become her best friend, her salvation from a life that hadn’t been any kind of life at all. Now he was gone and everyone thought she’d killed him. Gentle, sweet, kind Steven. The man who wouldn’t hurt a fly, murdered in his own bed. When she closed her eyes at night, she could still see him beside her, his eyes open, blood covering his neck andchest. Could feel the cold, sticky blood coating her hands and arms and the front of her pajamas.
“Stop it, don’t think about it,” she whispered, fighting the picture that formed in her mind. She didn’t want to think about anything to do with that horrible night. But she had to. She needed to remember, because there had to be something, some detail, somethingthat she’d missed. Because there was one fact she was sure of—she had not killed her husband.
“Mind some company?”
She looked up at the female voice and saw Nica, the Boudreaus’ daughter. She’d arrived home late the prior night, and Suzanna hadn’t gotten a chance to talk with her yet. From what she’d been told, Nica had just graduated with two degrees, and was doing some extracurricular work for the school before she headed home permanently, which would be in a couple of weeks.
“Sure.” She scooted over on the swing, and Nica joined her.
“Momma had to run into town, but she’ll be back before dinnertime. One of her realtors is pregnant, and it looks like she’s going into labor a couple of weeks early, so Momma’s having to head into the office to help rearrange her showings and get them assigned to a couple of other realtors to cover.” Nica smiled while she said it, like it was nothing new for her mother to have to drop everything to rearrange somebody’s schedule.
“Sounds like it’s a pretty busy place.” There, small talk. She could handle that, she was a pro at chitchat.
“You have no idea. Momma has one of the best real estate offices in the state. She’s won awards, been featured in magazines, and has even been interviewed by both Dallas-Fort Worth and Houston area news broadcasts. Anybody with half a brain in their heads uses her when they are looking to buy or sell their places.”
“You sound very proud of her.”
Nica grinned. “I am. She’s amazing. I hope I have half her energy when I’m her age. Plus, she’s the best mother you could imagine. I mean, look at this place. Her and Dad took in foster kids for years, raising them, teaching them, but most importantly loving them. That’s why so many of them stayed. You do know I’m the only biological child, right?”
“Actually, no, I didn’t know that.”
“Oh, yeah,” Nica shifted around to face Suzanna. “Everybody in town knows the stories. Momma and Dad first took in Rafe when he was going to have to go into foster care. His mother was killed in a car accident, and Rafe was injured. His biological father caused the accident, because he was chasing them and caused their car to wreck. Dad was one of the volunteer firemen who arrived at the scene, and Rafe latched onto him, begging him not to leave him. Dad went with him to the hospital, and spent the night by his side, stayed there the whole night. When Momma showed up the next morning, Dad said they were gonna keep Rafe. That’s how he ended up being the first. But he was hardly the last one. This house has always been filled with boys. Sometimes preteens and some teenagers, but always the hard cases. The ones folks didn’t think would make it.”
Suzanna felt a stirring deep in her chest at Nica’s words. She’d always had a soft spot for orphans and kids in the foster system. Chaired several fundraisers to raise money to help build and maintain centers and recreational areas and try to help however she could. She’d even approached Steven once about possibly having a foster child, but he’d said he wasn’t ready for anything like that. The thought of children out in the world needing somebody to care, somebody to love them and give them a chance broke her heart. Hearing about the Boudreaus, what they’d done, going above and beyond mere words proved they walked the walk and talked the talk, which was a lot more than most people ever did.
“What they’ve done is amazing. I noticed almost all of the men carry the Boudreau name. Is that by choice?”
Nica grinned. “Rafe started that tradition too. Like I said, he lived here ever since he was a kid. My folks wanted to adopt him legally, but his dad wouldn’t allow it. He went to prison for causing the death of his wife, but he was a…I’m not supposed to use the language I need to to describe the jackass…but he wouldn’t relinquish his rights to Rafe and allow my folks to legally adopt. So, when Rafe turned eighteen, he legally changed his name to Boudreau. Did it as a surprise and it’s become a tradition for the foster kids to legally change their name to Boudreau, at least the ones that weren’t legally adopted. If they were able, my parents took the step to claim those boys in every way they could. Ended up, the only one who didn’t change his name was Lucas, and there was a reason for that. It’s a bit of a story, but it all worked out in the end. He offered to change it, but my parents told him they knew he loved them, no matter what his last name might be. So, we are a mixed bag, but it works. And I ended up with more big brothers than you can shake a stick at.” Her laughter accompanied the statement, letting Suzanna know that Nica loved her brothers.
“Can I ask…never mind.”
“What? You can ask me anything. If I don’t want to answer, I’ll flat out tell you so.”
Suzanna bit her lip, almost deciding it was better not to ask, but she really wanted to know about Gage. He fascinated her, something she hadn’t realized until they’d gotten to the Boudreau ranch. The man was an enigma to her, and she wanted to know more.
“Um, about Gage. He’s not a Boudreau, or at least he doesn’t have the last name. If it’s a tradition…” She trailed off, not sure how to come out and ask about his past. It seemed like each one of the Boudreau sons had a difficult past, or they wouldn’t haveended up in the foster care system. If Gage had come to live on the ranch, he must have had a rough patch at some point, though he was definitely his own person now.
