Chapter 12

 

Five days; five days to crunch time and Hunter really was not in the best of moods.

Last night he had gone over the file that Jackson had given him about Etienne Dubois. The Louisiana native was smart; really smart, with an IQ of over 160 and that had to be one of the reasons Keisha had been drawn to him in the first place.

Etienne came from a family dealt with trade; his father Jean-Pierre had his own fleet of ships which couriered goods from one place to another.

From eleven to fifteen the boy had earned a rap of shoplifting and illegal gambling but he was acquitted of all charges. Clearly, his powerful father had something to do with it.

At eighteen Etienne had gone to study structural engineering at MIT and spent his summers back in New Orleans. And at nineteen, Etienne’s wife-Renee’s father Christophe had joined Jean-Pierre and broadened their manifesto into importing customary and rare goods for customers.

When he was twenty-five, Etienne had moved to South Carolina where he interned and gained a job with an architectural company. He had kept a clean slate from then on but Hunter felt that something was up.

There was no way someone who had started in the criminal life that early had given it up. All last night he had been irritated and the mood had only heightened when the new day had come.

Early this morning, just as he had stepped into the office, a notice from the DA’s office kindly notified him that their case against Keisha was growing and if they didn't get anything to deter them, Keisha would be on trial soon.

Hunter barely put the phone down when a call came from Cyber Crimes.

“What?” he snapped irritably.

“Detective,” Jackson said evenly, “I’ve traced the model and Prod-Id on the Dell and gotten the age of the PC, it’s just over five years old.”

Quick calculations made him realize that Keisha’s business was a little more than that age and that if they had been a couple at that time it was extremely easy to get a hand on one of her computers.

“Anything else?”

“I’ve dug into the deleted filed on the Hard Drive and unearthed files that contained some trading business, but they all had been deleted from months before the comp was used to track the account.”

A small smile flitted across his face; once again his gut feeling paid off, “That helps a lot. Have you gotten a lead on who leased the house the PC was found in?”

“Still working on that,” Jackson said, “I’ll keep you posted through.”

 

*****

 

It was another tense easy at Safie as the market was again on the rise and a lot of the traders were having a good day. It was a happy coincidence that Keisha had called a ‘casual Friday’ and she was lounging in her desk in a pair of tan slacks and a fitted gold and black blouse.

While shifting another file into a ‘completed’ pile her landline rang and she picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hi Keisha,” Lila smiled, “Good to hear that smile in your voice, I have Mr. Dubois again on the line, should I patch him through?”

It took a lot of manpower for the young woman to not roll her eyes but sighed, “Sure, go ahead.”

“Alright then,” Lila replied, “Hold on.”

Leaning back into her chair Keisha twirled the cord of the phone around a finger until Etienne came on the line.

“Bonjour Keisha,” Etienne’s voice slithered through the line like smooth silk, “I called to tell you that I really appreciate what happened between us yesterday.”

“Nothing really happened, Etienne,” Keisha replied slowly, “We only had lunch.”

“Hm,” Etienne replied, “But it was much more than that wasn’t it? I think we really connected.”

In truth, they actually had but she wasn’t going to make him any the wiser. “You think so huh?

“Yes,” Etienne replied, “You can’t deny it Keisha; I saw it all in your beautiful and spellbinding eyes. You felt the flame restart as much as I did whenever we touched. I know I got across to you with those pictures. I wasn't lying Keisha; they were some of the best moment of my life.”

Keisha’s eyes dimmed, it was true but damn it, she would die before she verbally admitted it.

“Once, you were my best friend, love, once were so close that we knew the other in and out and when we did touch it was like a living and roaring fire, don’t you remember that?” Etienne continued smoothly. “Do you remember that time I pushed your boundaries and we had sex in the Red Rouge’s restaurant’s bathroom?”

The memory of her pressed against the cool leather seat in the upscale French restaurant in the heart of the Old Quarter came back to her like a flash flood.

She remembered the click of the door as Etienne had closed it and then his warm hands sliding under her skirt. She remembered him whispering dirty Cajun nothings in her ear as he slid her thong down and she remembered burying her head in his shoulder as he slowly breached her.

Unconsciously her breathing had sped up to the delight of the man on the other end of the phone.

Etienne only continued, “And how we would play at home with creams and oils and toys, do you remember that, Cherie.”

A shudder ran through her just as her conscious mind surged, if she wasn't careful she would slip right back into his trap. Getting her senses in order Kiesha cleared her throat that had steadily grown blocked up by the residual memories.

“Etienne,” Keisha said slowly, “I am not your Cherie anymore and this, a recount of our past has nothing to do with us now…"

Her words were steady but the memories were playing behind her eyes like a real action film.

“That’s dead and gone; I know you realize that.”

“I do,” Etienne replied even though Keisha detected deep smugness in his tone, “And I’m sorry for bringing up the past.”

“Are you really?” Keisha replied blandly only to hear him laugh.

"You caught me," Etienne replied, "It's just…hearing your voice just makes me remember how good we were together."

‘And the pain I suffered too,’ Keisha thought.

Even though the pain was there the good memories were steadily overcoming them and that just wasn't right. Keisha knew she had to cut this off if she valued her sanity.

“That’s good and all Etienne, but do you have a point?” Keisha replied making sure to shuffle some papers, “I have work to do, remember?”

“Oh, je suis désolé," Etienne replied, "I didn't intend to keep you, but thank you for indulging me."

"Goodbye Etienne," Keisha said tightly as he uttered the same.

Putting the handle in the cradle, Keisha sat back and pressed her palms to her eyes, “God, what the hell am I doing? Why am I allowing Etienne back into my life when I tried so hard to shut him out?”

A long moment of soul searching took her over and when she had gone through every emotion she still couldn’t come to a conclusion. Pushing herself away from the desk she took up another file. She knew that pushing her problems away with work was only a temporary respite; all of them would come back to her harder when she was alone; but it something she was willing to use.

 

*****

 

She was curled on her couch at six with some news program on when a knock was on her door.

Curious she put the TV on mute and stood up to open the door. Before grasping the doorknob, she pushed the long sleeves of her shirt up a bit and ran her hand over her French braid.

After a look through the peephole, she grinned and typed in the security system key and leaned on the doorjamb with her arms clad in an overlarge shirt and her tiny blue shorts she smiled at Hunter who was standing less than a foot away. Hanging from one of his hand was a plastic bag with a few containers.

“Returning a favor,” Hunter said lifting the bag up,

“My, my,” Keisha grinned, “I guess your mama’s teaching stuck somehow.”

“It never left,” Hunter replied, “So, may I come in or do I have to wait for Etienne to leave.”

Keisha rolled her eyes and stepped back, “He’s not here and he will never be here. And here I thought he was the one playing bulldog.”

“Oh, he was,” Hunter replied while moving to her kitchen, “But more of a peacock Chihuahua style bulldog.”

“And then he had the gall to call me and tell me to not ‘hang around you.” Keisha said while following him, “Said that you were stripping me with your eyes. He was all righteously angry about it too. Sounded like he was about to bust a blood vessel.”

A low laugh came from emerald eyes cop, “I suppose if I knew I’ve done more than that, he’d probably have a heart attack.”

At that Keisha had to snicker and hook a finger into the bag’s strap and peeked in, “Thai, that’s…really coincidental.”

“No, it isn’t,” Hunter said while shrugging off his jacket and baring the black leather shoulder strap with his gun inside. “I saw some of your flyers with a single order circled; I figured that was your go-to order.”

Keisha pretended to be outraged and narrowed her eyes, “You went through my drawers?”

A mischievous smile was aimed at her while he unpacked the food, “In my defense, I was searching for surveillance devices.”

“Searching for surveillance devices, my ass,” Keisha replied with a roll of her eyes, “I call bull.”

Hunter backed her up against the fridge and with his face, a mere two inches away, Keisha's breath instantly went static. Green eyes lowered and Hunter basically breathed on her lips, "Do you want your ginger fried chicken or not?"

Wide-eyed and heart pumping Keisha breathlessly replied, “…Yes, please.”

“Good girl,” Hunter replied while stepping back and in the space given for her to breathe Keisha ironically craved the burning of her lungs that came from his presence.

“What are you having?” she managed to ask while taking the plastic platter container from Hunter and a fork.

“Cashew chicken,” Hunter replied while grabbing some napkins and moved to the living room. “It’s an old favorite.”

Moving back to the living room she sat back on her spot on the couch and popped the lid open only to have Hunter sit on the floor with his back between her legs. Cautiously, she framed his torso with her legs and felt his hand ran down her shin before he opened his container.

She looked at the news and frowned before taking up the remote and switched to a satire program and turned up the volume a bare stroke from mute. It was just background noise to fill the air as they ate and spoke.

“So,” Keisha said after swallowing a piece of chicken, “Can I ask about my case or is it still a, ‘you can ask but I’ll have to kill you’ situation?”

“Yes, but I’d probably find another way to kill you,” Hunter snorted, “a more pleasurable way."

"I can just imagine," Keisha replied wryly. "So, how was your day? I told you the stimulating highlights of mine and turnabout is fair play, don’t you think?”

Hunter twisted his head to look at her, “Why on earth would you want to hear about police duty? I’d hardly think filing a mountain of reports is anything interesting.”

Keisha frowned slightly, he did have a point. “I highly doubt you squandered the day doing paperwork but I know tactful avoidance when it comes up. Let me change the whole topic, can you tell me more about what happened in the military. Like what were some of your best moments.”

The stretch of Hunter’s broad shoulders went tight for a moment before they sagged. “You know… no one has ever asked me that before.”

Keisha nudged him with her heel and Hunter looked up at her under the fringe of his hair, “Never?”

Leaning back into the ‘V’ of her legs Hunter nodded, “Never… but… I can tell you one reason that solidified my reason for being a marine. One time, in the middle of Fallujah…”

While eating Keisha sat there intuitively listening to how Hunter had risked his life to rescue a little girl who was trapped in the line of gunfire, after a flash mob had descended on the marketplace they were in.

With precise descriptions, Hunter recalled the situation and how he defied his commander's order to not rescue the little girl who had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

With his empty plate beside him, Hunter spoke how the girl, no more than six, had clung to his chest for dear life and how her mother, with tears running down her face, had thanked him for saving her child’s life.

The TV was complete ignored when he went on to tell her how the reopening a well to give a stricken community the single blessing of running water and how giving out cheap over-the-counter drugs like Advil or Tylenol saved lives.

By the time he was describing how they had held off a horde of bandits who were dead set on destroying one of the few running hospitals where American doctors were saving lives, Keisha’s ankles had slipped under his arms and the soles of her feet were sitting on his lap. His head was in hers and she was softly carding her fingers through his hair.

Hunter's eyes were half-mast as he focused on his memories and voice was low. With every story, he recalled Keisha wanted to kiss him. He spoke of his actions in such a modesty that it was hard to believe he was the one doing those heroic acts. It made it even clearer why Hunter had become a cop after leaving the military.

They sat there with Keisha slipping under the hypnotic spell of Hunter’s voice and she didn’t even realize that she was lulling off to sleep. Hunter did though; when he realized that the soothing massage of his scalp was gone he shifted and saw a sleeping Keisha.

Her head was back on the couch and twisted slightly to the side. A section of her hair was falling over to the side of her face and her long eyelashes were resting on her cheek.

Steeped in innocent sleep Keisha looked so angelic and gorgeous. Hunter’s eyes ran over her face and settled on her lips and almost for the hundredth time he wondered what they would taste like.

Internally, he cursed the bad experience that had made him swear off kissing. He had told Keisha about the past girlfriend who he had thought he was in love with but she was only using him for stress relief.

What he hadn’t told Keisha was that that had happened when he was eighteen. He had grown up and knew that teenage girls didn’t know what the hell they wanted and that his older self should have gone on, but it had still scarred him deeply.

Now though, every time he looked at Keisha's lips a deep yearning had settled in his stomach. There was no question that he was falling for her but could he just take this chance, knowing that there was a high possibility that she would be shipped to prison if he didn't prove her innocence?

Scrubbing a hand through his hair Hunter carefully got up and took his and her empty containers and disposed of them. He then switched the TV off and checked all the windows and the door. Lastly, he went back to Keisha who had listed to the side and was contorted in a comma with her hands clenched beside her head like a child.

Reaching out carefully, Hunter slipped his hands under her head and knees and lifted her up to his chest. Instantly Keisha’s head burrowed under his chin as he carried her to her bedroom with a soft cute snuffling sound.

Gently he placed her on the bed and reached down to the folded blanket at the foot of the bed. While placing it over her, she shifted and opened soft sleepy eyes.

“Stay,” she said quietly, “stay with me…please.”

Hunter was about to refuse but the very notion of it made something cut through his chest like a two-edged sword. She looked so fragile and her eyes had a deep supplication in them that he could only silently step back, release the catch for his gun strap, place it on the closest night table and then shuck his shirt.

Her eyes lightened and she held up the blanket for him to slide under and when he did, she moved to rest her head on his chest, “Thank you.”

Cupping his hand on the base of her neck and massaging the tendons there while she rested her head on his chest, Hunter could only murmur, “Sure.”

 

*****

 

Hard brown eyes glared through the glass of the rented blue Honda sedan at the door of Keisha’s building and where the good detective had gone into more than hours ago.

More than five hours had passed and just as it was going to midnight Etienne came to the same conclusion that he had gotten the moment he and Keisha had met the damn cop. The detective had smugly said that he had ‘assisted her with a personal matter’, which clearly meant that they were screwing around.

Starting the engine Etienne drove away with anger burning in the depths of his soul. How could she do such thing to him? When he was trying his best to get back into her good graces?

His hands trembled on the steering wheel in anger. She was surely going to pay for this, even more than he had planned.