“You must be just as tired,” Jenny said fairly. “You should go to bed too.”
The damned man looked at her, and then looked deliberately at the large bed she was in, at the empty space beside her. A moment later the look was gone, but it had left her strangely shaken.
“I’ve got things to do,” Ryder said. “I’ll be in the room across the hall—call me if you need anything. And you two,” he addressed Remy and Soledad, “can make yourselves scarce. She doesn’t need any more distractions.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” Remy purred. “Soledad is feeling housebound.”
“I don’t give a fuck how housebound she feels, she’s not going anywhere.”
“Just the Café Du Monde for some beignets,” Remy said. “No one should come to New Orleans without sampling the beignets.”
“No one should come to New Orleans and be subjected to the horror of chicory-flavored coffee,” Jenny said in a grouchy voice. Caffeine would probably help her headache.
“Coffee snob,” Ryder murmured.
“You too,” she shot back, not sure how she knew that.
He didn’t dispute it, and the man called Remy laughed. “She’s got you there,” he said. “You’re the biggest coffee snob I know.”
“We can discuss my gourmet tendencies after Ms. Parker gets more rest. And you’re not taking Soledad anywhere!” Ryder was effectively shooing the others out of the room. He threw one last look her way, and the temporary warmth was gone, leaving the dangerous man she was too smart to want. “And you, stay put.”
Right then Jenny didn’t particularly feel like moving. The bed was comfortable, and she wasn’t up to dealing with the complications that were Matthew Ryder, any more than she wanted to be responsible for Soledad at that moment. Any woman worth her salt would be so distracted by the man called Remy and his good looks that she wouldn’t have time to get into trouble, unless, of course, it was with Remy, and Jenny’s concerns weren’t for Soledad’s tender heart and no doubt virginal body. She could close her eyes and sleep in peace.
“But M
s. Parker is dressed like a puta,” protested Soledad. “She needs something better to wear.”
Ryder glanced back at her. “There are some clothes in the dresser. Help yourself.”
And then she was finally alone. For a moment she was tempted just to stay where she was, until she remembered what Soledad had said about the flimsy outfit she was wearing. She dragged herself out of bed and picked the cell phone from her pocket, turning it on. It looked none the worse for wear, and belatedly she wondered why she hadn’t just dropped it over the side of Doc Gentry’s rickety railing. One problem neatly solved, and she’d missed her chance. She only needed it for leverage if she didn’t completely trust him, and that was absurd.
On impulse she slid it under the mattress. She’d have to find a better hiding place, but that would do for now, particularly since no one in the house had any idea she was hiding it.
Looking in the massive chest of drawers, she wasn’t impressed with her choices. She could wear old-fashioned men’s pajamas or an oversized T-shirt and flannel boxers. Since that was closest to what she usually wore, she changed quickly and slid back beneath the silky sheets. She was so bone weary she could scarcely move, and her head was throbbing. She probably ought to ask for some Tylenol or something, but she couldn’t bring herself to even lift her head from the pillow. At that point all she wanted was sleep.
“Where’s our little waif?” Ryder said in a sour voice when Remy strolled into the hidden office on the second floor. “She didn’t see you come in here, did she?”
“Ryder, please!” Remy said in tones of mock horror. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Miss Soledad is pacing her room like a caged hamster, wanting to get back to our other houseguest and soothe her fevered brow. Speaking of which, what’s up with all this? Since when did we become a halfway house for women in trouble? I thought you were convinced Parker was hiding something. Did you manage to clear her?”
“I wouldn’t trust her farther than I could throw her,” Ryder said flatly. “What better place to keep her than right under our noses? I was all set for a quiet afternoon yesterday when she and her protégé came tapping at the door. Since then I’ve been shot at and nearly blown up, all thanks to Ms. Parker. The question is, who’s after her? If she’s dirty, then it may be someone on our side. That, or a business rival who wants to take over the trafficking now that His Eminence is dead and the whole thing is in shambles.”
“What about Soledad? I would think she’d be in more danger than some do-good lawyer—if they need someone to testify, Soledad would be perfect, and therefore a major liability.”
“No one’s testifying. The kingpin of the trafficking is dead, any of the surviving members of the Corsini family are long gone, and the ownership trail of the freighter filled with young women and children from South America is so convoluted even Jack couldn’t find it. There’s no reason for Soledad to be in any danger, despite what Parker thinks.”
“Then why is she here?”
“Because Ms. Parker won’t go anywhere without the damned woman. Maybe Soledad is some kind of hostage. That’ll be up to you to find out. I get the sense she’d like nothing more than to get away from all of us, Parker included.”
“Interesting idea. Parker doesn’t look like she could hold anybody hostage, but I bow to your superior judgment. I get the feeling you’re not that anxious to get rid of the woman, and I don’t think it’s just suspicion that’s riding you.”
Ryder growled. “Shut the hell up. The woman annoys the hell out of me.”
“Exactly,” Remy said.
“Almost as much as you annoy me. Someone takes a shot at you, they can have you,” Ryder snapped.
“Oh, I can take care of myself. Why don’t you send the woman who’s sleeping in your bed home to her papa? The Gauthiers can keep her safe.”