Page 63 of Beau

“I’ll need a few minutes to pull myself together,” Aurelie said.

“I’ll call my mother,” Beau said, “and let her know about Lady.”

Aurelie’s gaze met his.

He cupped her cheek in his palm and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll let her know that you’ll take her if the family isn’t interested.”

“I’ll take her, even if they are interested,” she murmured. “I’ll give her a good home.”

“I’ll let my mother know how you feel. She’s an excellent negotiator.”

Aurelie grabbed her gym bag and entered the bathroom. She waited for Lady to follow and then closed the door.

Beau dressed quickly in black jeans and a black polo shirt, aiming for the bodyguard vibe. He had a pair of mirrored sunglasses in his truck to add to the look.

With Aurelie still in the bathroom, he grabbed his cell phone and stepped out onto the back porch, leaving the door open so that he could listen for Aurelie.

The first call was to his mother.

“Beau, sweetheart. How was your night in da cottage?”

“Interesting,” he answered.

“Oh. Tell me.”

He skipped the part about making love with Aurelie and got straight to the home invader, Lady.

“A small white dog, you say?” His mother paused. “I seem to recall Myra Pearson carried a little white dog wit’ her everywhere before she died a year ago. I hadn’t t’ought about it since den. It could be hers. I’ll contact da family and ask what dey want to do wit’ it.”

“Maman, while you’re talking with them, ask them what they want for this place, as is.”

“Do you know someone interested in buying it da way it is?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” The idea had barely taken root in the back of his mind. Now, it was firmly embedded. He’d wanted a place of his own with acreage and preferably on the water. So, it needed work. He wasn’t afraid of that. “Maman,” he said. “Tell them your buyer wants the dog with the house. Non-negotiable.”

“Da dog?”

He hadn’t been sure about his reason for surviving. He hadn’t been sure he would ever fit into civilian life. But he was sure about this. “Yes, ma’am. The dog.”

Another call came in on his cell phone. He glanced at the caller ID. Remy Montagne.

“I have another call coming in I need to take.”

“I have what I need,” his mother said. “I love you, son. Glad you’re home.”

He ended the call with his mother and accepted the call from Remy. “Boyette speaking.”

“Just heard from the sheriff in Bayou Miste,” Remy said. “They got a match on the fingerprints found in Miss Anderson’s home.”

“Anyone we know?” Beau asked.

“Not unless you’re familiar with Cajun mafia hitmen.”

Beau’s gut clenched. “No shit?”

“No shit,” Remy confirmed. “Big Johnny Lansky. He’s the primary suspect in a number of execution-style murders.”

“Why’s he still running loose?” Beau asked.