In Shining Whatever (Three Magic Words Trilogy #2)(19)

"Neither were you when I was running from Theron," Fancy reminded her.

"But everyone could see that you and Theron were in love," Kate protested.

"I rest my case. Enjoy the night. I remember a time about fifteen years ago when you would have kissed the devil's spiked tail to get a whole night with Hart Ducaine with no one around"

"I'm a grown-up now, not a kid," Kate said.

"Call me tomorrow and tell me the details. Bye now," Fancy said.

Kate stared at the phone. Should she call Sophie? She shook her head. Sophie wouldn't be any better at the advice than Fancy. She headed toward Hart's room, but her step wasn't springy nor her mood one whit better.

Hart looked up from a magazine when she entered the room. "What took you so long?"

"I told Fancy I'd call when they got you in your room. Everyone is worried," she said.

"About me?"

"Well, they clanged sure ain't worried about me," she said.

He loved her slow Southern accent. She hadn't had that when they were younger. She must have acquired it in Louisiana, the same place she'd learned to do that bayou dancing. He laid the magazine down and looked at her. Why was he so drawn to her? She was lovely, with those Marilyn Monroe lips and that lightly toasted skin. Her voice was soft and smooth with the Cajun accent; something akin to warm honey with a splash of Kentucky bourbon to cut the sweet.

Hart took a long swig from the water on his table to wet the sudden dry mouth. "So tell me about yourself," he said, when he could sound normal.

She took off her jacket and hung it on the back of the reclining chair and sat down. It didn't feel so very different from the passenger's seat in the-car-the force issued to her and Rudy.

I'm on a stakeout, she thought.

"What do you want to know?" she said.

"Everything. All of it."

"We've only got one night," she said. And if we had a lifetime, I wouldn't tell you everything. Some things a woman never tells, not even to her best girlfriends.

"Okay then, what was it like growing up in Louisiana? It sure changed your accent," he said.

"It's a whole different world. Cypress and oak trees as old as God with moss drooping down, blowing in the breeze like it's calling your name to come and sit beneath the trees and listen to the stories. The oaks are so ancient they could tell the tales of battles fought around them during the Civil War, and sorrows and loves on a personal level."

"I'd like to visit there sometime. You make it sound beautiful. I was in Lafayette for a rodeo once, but all I saw was the fairgrounds and a pretty good place to eat Cajun food," Hart said.

"The Bayou Teche has a city park bordering it. When you visit, don't forget to go there. Sitting on a bench and feeding the ducks beside the bayou brings a peace you can't find anywhere else."

"I've heard that name before. Bayou Teche." He frowned and grimaced.

"Don't do that with your eyes when you are thinking. It pulls at the stitches," she said.

"Dave ... my favorite author, James Lee Burke, writes about him ... Dave Robicheaux. Hey, did you know they made a movie a while back called In the Electric Mist and it's filmed down there? I bought it as soon as it came out, and went back and reread the book while I waited for it to arrive. Tommy Lee Jones does a bang-up job of creating the character of Dave in the book. So that's where you lived. I thought I recognized the name of that place when you mentioned it," he said.

"I only lived there after I graduated from college and got a job with the force. Before that we lived a few miles away in a little town called Jeanerette. That's where the sugarcane plantation that Daddy worked on is located. We had a little two-bedroom house on the back side of the plantation. The foundation was probably put in when the folks in the big house had slaves, but it burned years and years ago, and they built a small house for the foreman"

"You ever meet Mr. Burke?" Hart asked.

"Couple of times"

"I'm impressed," he said.

"It don't take much to impress a man with his head shaved and nothing to do all night but stay awake," she said.

Hart moaned. "Don't remind me. It'll take years for my hair to grow out, won't it?"

"Oh, don't be a sissy. It'll look fine in six weeks"

"Don't call me a sissy. I'm a bull rider," he said.

"So does that make you all tough and mean?"

"It makes me not a sissy."

"Touchy spot there, is it? Who called you a sissy?" she asked.

He turned his head and looked out the window.

That was fine by Kate. Lots of times she or Rudy, her partner, riled each other to the point that neither of them spoke for hours, and they got over it. Of course, they had no other recourse. When the shift ended and they went home, it wasn't the end of the matter. They still had to face each other the next morning at eight o'clock. So they learned to argue and forget it. Hart could do the same or sit there and pout all night. Actually, that would at least keep her from having to talk, even if the seconds did take an eternity to tick off on the clock on the far wall beside the television.

"Stephanie," he said, after five full minutes of silence.

"What?" Kate was thinking about the hot bread at LeJeune's French bakery in Jeanerette. Nothing a person could buy at WalMart could compare to the texture of that bread. Her mother often bought it and sliced it thick to go with jambalaya or clam chowder.