He opened the refrigerator and watched as the cat proceeded to check out his food, finally selecting a plate of leftover grilled tuna. Mike took it out and put it on the floor, watching as the cat began to eat.
“Glad to oblige,” he said, still amazed. “At least one of us has an appetite.” Food was the last thing on his mind. He walked to his apartment window, which looked out on a New Orleans street that might have been in one of Liza’s paintings.
What had he done that might provoke someone to try to shoot him? And how good a shot was the shooter? Had he missed deliberately? Mike suspected that he had. The gunshots had been intended to drive him away, not mortally wound him. But why?
Duke Masonne had been a businessman. Successful, involved with the art world through Liza, a man who seemed to be solid and reputable. Seemed to be. That was the key phrase. Behind that facade there was something else, and Mike knew he had to dig it up no matter what it revealed about himself.
For the first time he understood Rachel Welch’s reluctance about his need to explore the past. “Some things are better left alone,” she told him, tears in her eyes as she’d watched him pack for the trip to New Orleans. “People change, Mike. Whatever was in the past, you’ve left it behind. Don’t go walking back into it.”
If he’d heeded her advice, he would be out in the sharp April wind, birthing calves and drinking gallons of hot coffee with Gabe and the other men. There had been a sense of accomplishment in that life, a sense of purpose that he’d lost since coming back to New Orleans. Just as Rachel had warned, he’d stepped into a quagmire. With each fact he uncovered, he felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into darkness.
It wasn’t too late to leave. He could pack his bags, board a plane and be back in North Dakota by morning. He knew Rachel and Gabe well enough to know they’d never question him about what he’d discovered. He could bury the past once and for all if he’d only walk away.
The image of Liza appeared in his mind. He saw her face, eyes wide with shock and fear. Even at the memory, he felt his heart lurch. He wasn’t sure what the emotion was, but whatever it might be, it was too strong to walk away from. He had to know the truth. About Liza Hawkins and about himself.
“Meow.”
He turned to find the cat staring at him with a look filled with wisdom.
“She’s worth the risk, isn’t she?” he asked.
The cat nodded, one golden eye winking in agreement.
LIZA SAT AT THE TABLE in Renaldo’s waiting for Trent to return from the phone. He’d had to file a report about the shooting, but he’d assured her it would take only a few moments. She was glad for the time alone.
Her mind danced around the issue of what had just happened. Duke Masonne had suddenly reappeared. After five years, he’d emerged from the fading daylight and spoken her name.
Or had he?
Her hands gripped the seat of her chair. “Please,” she whispered. “Please don’t let me be losing my mind.”
It was her biggest fear. For five years, every night, she’d fantasized and dreamed of Duke’s return. During the long afternoons when she’d sat in her private studio and drawn his features, she’d thought of what it would be like to see him again. She’d prayed for it.
But the reality was a far cry from anything she’d ever imagined. Instead of joy, the rush of love and happiness that she’d expected, she was terrified. Never in her life had she been more afraid.
The tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them away. Deep inside, she felt as if she’d been battered in a way that would never heal.
“Liza? Are you okay?”
She looked up to see Trent staring down at her. “Yes. Just a little unnerved, I suppose.” She tried for a smile. “Are you sure that man wasn’t hurt?” She couldn’t bring herself to say Duke’s name, especially since Trent had made it clear that he didn’t believe it was Duke.
“The desk sergeant checked with the hospitals. No injuries reported. No bodies floating in the river.” He smiled. “That’s a joke. I told you I didn’t hit him. If I’d meant to, he’d still be on the levee. Whoever he was, I doubt he’ll be bothering you again.”
She couldn’t bring herself to say thanks. “I’m worried about the cat. I should go home and see if he’s there.”
“You’re not hungry?”
She shook her head. “Honestly, I’m not. I’m sorry.”
“Have a glass of wine and I’ll take you home.”
She nodded. “One glass.” It would be simpler to concede than to argue. Renaldo’s was safe, easy. Home might not be. She would be alone, left with her thoughts and her fears. She knew all too well that wasn’t a good place to be.
“Trent, are you sure you didn’t recognize Duke?” She knew better, but she couldn’t leave it alone. She’d been honest with Trent from the very beginning. She’d told him about Duke and the past and how she was trapped in a hellish limbo of doubt about what had happened to the man she’d loved with all her heart.
“I didn’t recognize him,” Trent said with a gentle patience that made her feel even guiltier. “Remember, I never knew Duke. I didn’t move to New Orleans until after he disappeared.”
“But you’ve looked at the pictures.”
“Which can never give a person a real sense of another human being. You know that. You’re far better able to capture the essence of a person in your art. A camera captures the visual image. There’s so much more to identifying a person.”
Liza couldn’t argue with that even though it wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
Trent reached across the table and captured her hands. “Liza, whoever that man was, he meant to harm you. He pursued you into an isolated area. When you asked him to leave you alone, he didn’t back off. He could see you were terrified. Hell, I was fifty yards behind him and I could see it. Yet he didn’t back away. I know you want to believe it was the man from your past. But my theory is that he was someone who meant to harm you.”
“And you made him stop,” Liza said. From Trent’s point of view, he’d done the proper thing to save her. She had to acknowledge that. But something else was bothering her. “How did you know I was in danger?”
Trent squeezed her hands, then dropped them as the waiter brought two glasses and a bottle of wine. “Sip a little wine. It’ll help settle your nerves.”
Liza took a small swallow, amazed that it went down. Her throat felt as if a huge lump blocked it, and her chest was constricted. “Tell me. How did you know where to look for me?”
“There’s something I want to tell you. I’ve debated about it, but now I think I have to.”
Liza didn’t think it was possible, but her level of dread increased. This was something she wasn’t going to like. She could see it in Trent’s eyes.
“I did a little poking around into the past. Since you’ve been so certain you’ve been seeing Duke Masonne hanging around, I decided to review his file.” He hesitated, gaze dropping to the glass of wine he was swirling. “Liza, did you know Duke was a suspect in a murder?”
Liza stared at Trent. It was almost as if he’d suddenly begun to speak a foreign language. “He was what?”
“A suspect in a murder.” Trent put down his wineglass and put both hands on the table. “This isn’t the place to tell you.” He waved a hand around at the busy restaurant.
“Finish it.” Waiting would be far worse than hearing what Trent was about to say.
“Are you sure?”
“Just tell me.” She sat perfectly erect