Give Him the Slip (3 page)

His mouth worked like a fish, with no sound emerging, until
abruptly he backed away and exited the cabin. The dog followed the man, thank
goodness, and Maddie climbed to her feet. She quickly returned Oscar to his
bowl, then added water from the faucet in the bathroom. After setting the bowl
on the dresser out of reach of the dog, she spied dog hair and mussed covers on
the far side of the bed. She must have been really tired to sleep through
having company in her bed.

"Thank God it was the dog and not the master," she
murmured. Although... "Don't go there, Maddy. Just... think of Oscar."

Oscar was safe, thank God, and she intended him to stay that way.
While Maddie recognized that she'd chosen a peculiar time to finally adopt the
pet she'd always wanted, and that a goldfish wasn't exactly the dachshund puppy
she'd been considering, the moment she'd entered his previous owner's ransacked
home and spied the fishbowl teetering on the edge of a shelf, she'd felt a
kinship with Oscar.

His owner's death had left them both in a desperate situation.

Maddie dug in her purse for the fish food she'd purchased at an
East Texas Wal-Mart, then sprinkled some into the fish bowl. With her pet cared
for, she made her way toward the master stateroom.

She rapped on the doorjamb. "Excuse me. Ms. Winston?"

Hearing no reply, she ducked her head into the room. A quick
glance around revealed scattered sheets on an empty king-sized bed, and her own
disheveled reflection in a mirror. So, where was Terri Winston? Why hadn't she
followed on Mr. Naked's heels? Was she not on the boat?

Oh, jeez. Wouldn't that be just her luck? What would she do then?

As much as she dreaded the idea of approaching him, Maddie knew
she had to get some answers from the guy. She finger-combed her hair, then
scowled down at her shirt—her white, wet, transparent shirt. She again plucked
the cotton fabric away from her body and flapped it in the air a few times.
Then she wiped her hands on her shorts, drew a deep breath, and went out for
round two with Fantasy Abs.

One good look at their surroundings chased all other thoughts from
her mind. Marsh grasses, trees, water. Where was the marina? Maddie whipped her
head around. All she saw was swamp!

Her stomach sank. They'd obviously left port. How long had she
been asleep?

"Um, excuse me? Where exactly are we?"

He raised his pistol and took aim at the stump of a dead tree
rising like a ghost from the bayou. Luckily for Maddie's concentration, he'd
dragged on his Hawaiian-print swim trunks. Although, now that she considered
the question, his broad, bare shoulders proved to be almost as much a distraction
as his... gun.

He pulled the trigger three deliberate times.

He didn't bother to look at her. "I don't know what you and
Branch Callahan are trying to pull, lady, and frankly, I don't care."

O-kay. Fine. Definitely a bit of aggression there.

Bang... bang... bang.

"It's too late to head back to the marina now. It'll be dark
before long, and I'm not navigating the
Miss Behavin'
through the swamp
at night. I'll take you back first thing in the morning, provided you don't
piss me off enough to toss you overboard tonight."

Bang... bang... bang.

The dead branch cracked, then broke, and fell into the bayou with
a whooshing splash. The motion stirred up an alligator sunning himself on a
nearby rock, and after a hiss of irritation, he slipped quietly into the water,
then disappeared from sight.

The gator reminded Maddie of the problem at hand, so she cut to
the chase. "Look, mister, obviously you're acquainted with Branch Callahan
and you have some sort of problem with him. That's understandable. Branch can
be a challenge. However, in this case, he's simply trying to help a friend. Me.
I really need to talk to Terri Winston. Branch assures me that she can help
me."

He glanced over his shoulder, his expression angry and... haunted.
"That'll be a trick."

What did that mean? Why wouldn't Terri... oh, of course.
I'll
bet she packed up and left his rude, though spectacular, butt. Great.
Wonderful. Now what do I do?

"Where did she go?"

"She who?"

"Terri Winston."

This time she saw something more in his glower. This time, she
saw... grief. Bone-deep, gut-wrenching grief. As the dog padded across the
deck, then plopped down on one of the stranger's bare feet, Maddie recalled the
sign on the ship store. CLOSED FOR FUNERAL. She considered this man's reaction
when she mentioned Terri Winston's name.
Oh, no.
"She...?"

"Wasn't a goddamned woman!" he thundered, his scowl
murderous. "Terry was the greatest man I ever knew. He was smart and
determined and honorable. He knew engines forward and backward, and he could
quote box scores going back thirty years. He was a damned fine agent, a damned
fine human being, and the world is a poorer place without him in it."

Maddie exhaled a long, heavy breath. "We're talking about the
same person? The owner of this boat and special agent for the DEA?"

"Terrence Albert Winston. He and I bought the
Miss
Behavin' II
three years ago. Look, lady, I don't know what sort of trick
that old Brazos Bend bastard was trying to play on you, but you've wasted your
trip. Terry Winston is dead."

The dog gave a whimper and Maddie's stomach rolled. Oh, man. Oh
man oh man oh man. What in the world was she going to do now?

"It's against my better judgment to ask, but what made you
think Terry was a woman? And better yet, what makes you think that Branch and
Terry were even acquainted?"

Maddie stared blankly at the fellow.
Because a man lied to me.
Again.
"He told me so. Branch Callahan did."

"Why?"

She recalled the madness of the previous night. She'd fled Brazos
Bend with no clear destination in mind, concentrating more on fleeing danger
fast than on where to go for help. She'd had the vague thought to lose herself
in the wilds of West Texas when her tire went flat. A man had stopped to help
her change her tire, then suggested she pay for his labor on her back. When he
wouldn't take no for an answer, she'd grabbed a can of hair spray from her
grocery sack and shot him in the eyes.

Branch had called just as she'd spun gravel getting back on the
road, and she'd treated him to a one-woman rant about the untrustworthiness of
men, how they always let her down, how she couldn't forget that the last time
she'd found herself in a marginally related situation, she'd trusted a man and
been burned. Badly.

In hindsight and based on the circumstances, she wasn't surprised
at the lie Branch had told her. Nevertheless, it didn't make her happy.

Based solely on the fact of this fellow's Y chromosome, Maddie
shot him a damning glare. "Who are you, anyway?"

He arched a brow. "You don't know?"

"Why should I know? Have we met somewhere?" The only
person he reminded her of was one of the Chippendale dancers at Janie Pokluda's
bachelorette party.

Ignoring her questions, he set his gun on the deck chair beside
him, folded his arms, and studied her, his brow knitted in thought. "Why
did the old man send you to Terry? You said you needed his help. With
what?"

"Like I'm going to tell you! I don't even know your
name!"

He rolled his tongue around his mouth and looked at her long and
hard. "I wonder," he murmured.

"Wonder what?"

Abruptly, he took a step forward and stuck out his hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Kincaid, was it? My name's Luke. Luke
Callahan."

"Luke Callahan?" she repeated, her eyes widening with
surprise.
"Callahan?"

"Yeah."

"Not Callahan as in... Branch Callahan?"

"'Fraid so."

"He's your father?"

"Technically, yes. Though, since he disowned me seventeen
years ago, the reality's a little muddy."

"Oh, my God." Her mind spun as she processed this bit of
news. "Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. They still talk about you in town.
The four of you set the fire that burned down the boot factory and put half the
town out of work. You're the Holy Terrors!"

"No." His eyes went hard and glacial, his voice flat.
"Not anymore. My brother John is dead."

Maddie knew that, of course. Townspeople still talked about the
scene the surviving Callahan brothers made on their brief return to Brazos Bend
for John's memorial service.

Holy Terror or not, this man was still one of Branch Callahan's
careless, coldhearted sons. Branch had sent her here. Had he known Luke would
be here?

Maddie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't
understand. What's the connection between you and Ms.... uh... Mr.
Winston?"

"Terry Winston was my partner."

She blinked. "You're gay?" she asked, unable to stop a
twinge of regret.

"We
worked
together!"

"You're
a DEA agent?"

"Not anymore. Now it's your turn. Why did you come looking
for Terry?"

"You
were
a DEA agent?"

"Why did you come looking for Terry?" he repeated.

Maddie slammed her mouth shut. She had to think about this. Be
hanged if she'd blurt out her story just because he was Branch Callahan's kin.

Considering Branch had out-and-out lied to her regarding the
Miss
Behavin' II'
s owner, right this minute, the family connection hurt more
than helped.

Was this the same old song? Had Branch Callahan burned her
yesterday when he sent her to Caddo Bayou Marina?

Maddie shoved her fingers through her hair in frustration as she
tried to make sense of the developments. Ignoring Luke's question, she asked
one of her own. "Did your father know you'd be here?"

"Uh-uh." He shook his head. "It's still your turn.
I'm still waitin' on an answer. What brings you to my boat, Maggie?"

"Not g's," she corrected, glad for the delay.
"D's.
Maddie."

"All right,
Maddie.
What's your problem? Why did you
come looking for a DEA agent?"

She gazed blindly out over the bayou's green water, trying to
decide how to reply. She needed more information about Luke Callahan to know
how much, or how little, to tell him. She couldn't afford a mistake. Her
freedom hung in the balance. She needed time to think this whole matter
through.

"Well?" he insisted.

She needed a diversion, and judging by the impatience flaring in
his eyes, she needed it fast. But what? She was on a boat in the middle of the
swamp. What could... the dog? Could she use the dog?

The canine in question let out a snore. Better think of something
else.

"What sort of trouble are you in?"

She wasn't about to tell him. Not until she knew a lot more about
him. She was done with giving her trust without weighing the possible
consequences.

So, what to do? She came up with but a single, desperate way to
delay answering Luke Callahan's questions and give herself the time she needed.
Great. Just great.

Swallowing her dread, Maddie threw out her hands, waving them
wildly as she paced the deck and said, "It's complicated. I don't quite
know where to start."

"Pick a place."

"All right. You see, your father is my client."

"So you
are
a hooker."

Maddie tossed him a contemptuous scowl, then continued her tale,
walking up and down the deck as she spoke, shifting a little closer to the dog
with each pass. "I own Home for Now senior care in Brazos Bend. We provide
personal services for seniors who are no longer completely independent, but who
prefer to remain at home rather than move to assisted living centers."

Luke scoffed. "Now I know you're lying. Branch Callahan is
the most independent cuss on the face of the earth."

"Yes... well... working for him is sometimes a challenge.
It's been a... yeow!"

As she'd intended, Maddie tripped over the dog and lost her
balance. She stumbled one awkward step, then two.

Then she hit the boat rail hard and with an extra surge of effort
managed to tumble right over the top.

Maddie intended all along to scream as she fell overboard. However,
the sight of an alligator slipping into the bayou not twenty feet away added
realism to her shriek.

Water splashed up onto the rear deck as the woman entered the
water. So much for a quiet, peaceful, relaxing start to his fishing trip, Luke
decided with a sigh as Knucklehead bounded to the edge of the boat, planted his
paws, and barked.
She falls out of bed. Falls off the boat. Hell.