Page 11 of Gage
Boudreau?Gage looked around and realized the paramedic was talking to the stranger who’d been first on the scene, the one with the zip ties. What were the chances of a Louisiana Boudreau showing up when he needed one? Providence, fate, or simply plain dumb luck?
“Dad sent me over to check on Ms. Dawkins. Probably a good thing, as you can see.” He must have noted Gage’s stare, because he added, “Jean-Luc Boudreau. Gator’s my dad.”
“Nice to meet you.” He chuckled. “Guess that explains the zip ties.”
Jean-Luc shrugged, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, I’m a regular Boy Scout. Always prepared.”
“Since you’re already there, Jean-Luc, why don’t you pull off the ski mask and let’s take a look at our perp.” The Officer Turner gestured toward the man on the floor, who’d started squirming in the zip ties, struggling to get free.
“Come here, buddy, and let’s get a look at you.” Jean-Luc ripped the ski mask off, revealing a sandy-haired, ruddy-faced man with otherwise unremarkable features, other than a small scar running across his forehead, about two inches long, over his left eye. “Don’t recognize him, do you?”
Officer Turner shook his head. “Doesn’t look familiar to me. We’ll run his prints down at the station, but I’ve got the feeling he’s going to be in the system.”
Gage tried following along with the conversation, but couldn’t take his eyes of Suzanna while the paramedics worked on her. They’d cut away a portion of her shirt, exposing a long graze, probably a couple of inches, still slowly oozing blood. Thankfully, to his view it didn’t look like the bullet did more than simply nick her in the melee. He let out an inaudible sigh, thankful it wasn’t worse. The paramedics quickly assessed and bandaged her arm, and gave her the option of going to the emergency room, which she declined. With an admonishment to see her private physician to get checked out, the paramedics left.
“Is there anything else you can remember, Ms. Dawkins?” Officer Turner asked.
She started to shake her head, but stopped. “He made a phone call to somebody. I didn’t understand anything he said, but he got really agitated when he found out I didn’t have any money here. I explained I don’t carry around cash, that I’d have to go to the bank or call my accountant to get the money. But I got the feeling he’s not working alone.”
“That’s good, thank you.” Officer Turner gave her a huge grin, exposing even white teeth, and Gage fought back the urge to punch him right in those pearly whites. Where was all this animosity coming from? He barely knew the woman, and yet he wanted to tear apart anybody even coming close to her.
“We’ll need you both to down to the station to give formal statements.” Office Turner glanced over at Gage. “She’s very lucky you showed up when you did, Mr. Newsome. Things might have turned out much differently if you hadn’t.”
Gage watched Suzanna turn pale at the policeman’s words. Guess it hadn’t fully dawned on her just how dire the situation had been, or her lucky escape. Because she was right, if the guyin the ski mask managed to somehow get her out of the hotel, her chances of survival dropped dramatically.
“We’ll come by later this afternoon and give our formal statements, if that’s okay.” Gage wanted to get that over with as soon as possible, a plan already forming in the back of his mind.
Jean-Luc and Officer Turner each grabbed an arm and lifted the perp from the floor, before Jean-Luc pulled out a pocketknife and cut the zip ties on the guy’s ankles. With a quiet snick, he closed it and slid it back out of sight.
The door opened about halfway and Officer Stevens stuck his head around the side of it. “Hallways clear, got the crowd dispersed, but I heard there’s a TV reporter camped out downstairs. You about ready to head back to the station?”
“Yep.” Turner grabbed the perp by the elbow, and headed for the door. “Jean-Luc, tell your daddy hello for me, and thanks for the shrimp. My wife made the best shrimp and grits the other night with ’em. Delicious.”
“I will.”
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Gage was left with Suzanna and Jean-Luc. Though she still had a slight tremble, the color had returned to her face. He knew from experience that the reality of what happened hadn’t set it yet, and when it did he needed to be there. The worse thing that could happen was if she tried to handle it alone. Like she didn’t already have enough trauma and drama in her life, this was the cherry on top.
He turned to Jean-Luc. “Appreciate you being here. I’m assuming your dad asked you to keep an eye on Ms. Dawkins?”
Jean-Luc leaned against the wall, ankle crossed. He appeared relaxed, like he dealt with masked assailants all the time. Who knows, Gage thought, maybe he did? He was a Boudreau after all.
“He did. Wish I’d gotten here a little sooner, but my wife wasn’t feeling well. Morning sickness has been rearing its decidedly unwelcome head.”
“Congratulations,” Suzanna whispered, standing to move next to Gage. She definitely looked a little better, judging from the look on her face. The terror was gone, replaced by anger.
Jean-Luc grinned. “She’s thrilled to be pregnant—most of the time. Right now, she’s cursing my name and swearing she’s going to rip my lungs out through my nose. I, personally, will get down on my knees and thank the Good Lord Above when this phase passes.”
“Just a suggestion, but give her anything she wants. Chocolate, pickles, ice cream. Whatever, whenever she wants it. And learn to say ‘yes, ma’am’ a lot. It’ll make things easier for you.” Suzanna’s teasing grin eased the knot in Gage’s chest, the on that’d been there ever since he’d wrestled the masked guy to the floor. No, even before that—when he’d heard the gun shot.
“Okay, now the cops are gone, want to tell me what actually happened?” Gage rotated his neck, hearing the subtle cracking sounds. The past few mornings he’d woken stiff and sore for no reason, other than restless nights. He needed to get in a good workout, maybe give his muscles a slow burn, that’d make him feel better.
“I told the police everything, I swear. I didn’t even know he was at my door until I opened it. I was heading out to get some coffee, maybe a little breakfast. Everything after that seemed to happen so fast, it’s all a bit of a blur. I was terrified he was going to shoot me, especially when he found out I didn’t have any money here. But he kept talking about a ransom, and taking me someplace.”
“Any clue where that might’ve been?” Jean-Luc asked the question Gage was wondering himself.
Suzanna shook her head. “No. Like I told the police, when he found out I didn’t have any money, he called somebody. I can tell you he was unhappy with whoever was on the other end of the phone, because he was practically yelling.”
“How about we get out of here and get you something to eat?” Jean-Luc’s smile was kind and made Gage feel like a rotten scoundrel for not asking first.
