Mismove: Counterplay Book 8: Counterplay, #8

By Elizabeth Burgess

The dawn of a new day brings evil intentions to light.

 

Continue the Counterplay Saga with Mismove: Book 8. 

 

mis•move (ˌmɪsˈmuːv)

vb (intr)

to make a wrong, bad, or unwise move

 

The Counterplay Series follows the Douglases, Adams, O'Malleys, and Caissys - four intertwined South Louisiana families and their struggle for power, love, and revenge. Your move. 

*This series is to be read in order and intended for 18+ audiences due to language and adult content. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elizabeth Burgess
• Release date: Feb 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393820468

Book preview

Chapter 1

Though exhausted, Rafe Gaudet refused to stop and rest. For the past three hours, he, along with Cliff, Gregory, and two eager Catahoula Curs had trudged in the boggy mud, climbed over fallen trees, and sloshed through knee-high water. His companions were tired too, the evidence in their shallow breaths and sweat-laden faces, but none of them were willing to take a break until they’d located Millie and Arianne. When Rafe considered the reason his wife and mother had been out in a hurricane, unaware and unprotected, he became angry all over again. How could Andrew Douglas be so stupid? What possessed him to leave two women he claimed to love at the Madisonville boathouse alone?

It was a question Rafe could answer without so much as looking at his father. He hoped the piece of ass he’d chased was ready for a new relationship, because Andrew was about to be a free man. No wife. No children. No friends. No one. The only reason the scumbag had been allowed to tag along for their rescue mission was because they had no clue what to expect once they made it to the Douglas property. At this rate, Rafe wondered if Jamie and Andrew would make it to Del Chauvin’s house first, but he had no way of knowing if the roads were clear between where the group parted ways and Mandeville, the place where they were putting in their boat. Truly, Rafe didn’t care who made it to Millie and Arianne first. He just wanted them to be safe.

About an hour back, they’d passed Del’s truck, confirming they were on the right path. Rafe was happy to see the red Ford. Two days before, he’d been able to get in touch with the old man and though the reception was sketchy, Del had understood Millie was in danger. Aside from Jamie and himself, Rafe knew of no other person who would move mountains to get to Millie. Nor was there anyone who loved her more. It had taken decades, but Millie had finally opened her heart and life to the man who’d claimed to be her father for years. They’d started a new relationship from the ground up, and though they still had bridges to cross, they were stronger than they’d been since Millie was a teenager.

What is it, boy? Cliff responded to the spotted dog’s whimpers. Fish pulled him to the left and sniffed the ground. He’s got a scent of something. Bring Lafitte.

Rafe passed the leash to Gregory, who was a step closer, and the two dogs searched together. Moments later, Fish barked and pawed at the earth.

My rosary, Rafe said on an exhale. Oh, God.

No. Stop, man. Gregory’s hands steadied Rafe’s shoulders. Don’t think the worst. You can’t right now. They could have been out for a walk and accidentally dropped it. He tried to be convincing, but Gregory knew as well as Rafe did that neither Millie nor Arianne would be careless with such a precious family heirloom. Let’s keep going.

Rafe nodded, stuffing the rosary into his pocket.

Lafitte’s on a trail now. Cliff pointed to the dog, who tugged on the leash Gregory held. Wouldn’t hurt anything if we cut him loose. He always comes back.

Gregory bent at the waist and unclasped the metal ring from the black harness. I hope you’re right, because Doc will kill us if anything happens to this dog. Before Gregory could finish his sentence, Lafitte ran fifteen yards ahead, stopped, and barked once. Cliff and Fish jogged to meet him.

Guys, you need to see this. Cliff’s tone was low and serious. Rafe and Gregory rushed over.

Is that…? Gregory said as Rafe stuck his gloved hand into the red coagulated mess.

Blood. Wasting no time, Rafe reached into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of a shirt Millie had left at Belle Tempête. If Lafitte had a scent, he would track. As he pulled the dog from the small puddle, Rafe dropped to his knees and placed the fabric underneath his nose. "Find Millie, Lafitte. Piste."

The good news is that it’s a not a lot of blood. Whoever’s hurt probably could stop the bleeding because there’s no trail. Both of these women know how to do that, Gregory offered. He would continue to be calm and remain logical. He had to. For himself. For Millie. And Arianne.

But why would either of them be bleeding, Greg? Rafe said in Nash’s voice. He didn’t care about his alias. He didn’t care about anything but finding his wife and mother.

I can’t answer that. He pointed to the dog, who’d taken off in a sprint. Let’s go. Lafitte knows the way.

Faster than any of them preferred after their morning hike, the three men plus Fish followed Lafitte until a series of gunshots stopped them in their tracks. As they took cover behind some overgrown brush, Rafe called out for the dog to stop, but Lafitte forged ahead. What the hell?

Keep going. Cliff resumed his pace, gun at the ready. Stay in the tree line. How far away are we from Del’s house, Rafe?

Rafe bit his lip until he tasted salty blood, but he did not answer.

"Rafe. Gregory’s arm went to the young man’s shoulder. How far?"

’Bout half a mile. As he pulled his own pistol out, Rafe steadied his nerves. He was useless to Millie if he was paralyzed by fear. More gunshots urged the men to pick up speed until finally they saw the French Colonial and heard Lafitte’s deep bark echo inside. Encouraged that the dog had gained safe passage into the house, Rafe entered followed by Cliff, then Gregory. The first thing they saw was a bloody body only a few feet from the entryway. The man, clearly dead from multiple stab wounds, had a Swiss army knife still lodged in his heart. To their left and right, two more men were on the ground and judging by the lack of movement, they were dead also.

Arianne? Millie? Gregory shouted. Del?

Greg. Though there was no extraneous noise, Del could barely be heard.

Del? Gregory peered behind the staircase to see him and Arianne wedged in between the wall and a column, covered in dirt and blood, but alive. Thank the Lord. They’re here.

We thought more men were on their way, so we hid. Millie’s upstairs. Please go find her. Del looked past Gregory at Rafe.

Thank you, he said on an exhale before he disappeared above them.

As he nudged Arianne’s arm, Del whispered, Ari, we’re safe. Gregory, Cliff, and Rafe are here.

Millie? Arianne lifted her head from Del’s chest. Where is she?

Rafe’s going to her now.

Thank God. Please let Gregory look at your injury.

Gregory knelt, and for an instant, he locked eyes with Arianne. Briefly, his mind wandered to their life and the lies they’d lived for years. A mix of love and fury raged in his gut and threatened to spill over and consume him. Strong-arming his emotions with steady breath, he turned his attention to Del. He and Arianne would have their time to talk later. What injury, Ari?

He’s been shot. Left upper quadrant.

Let him check you first. It’s no big deal. Millie put a dressing on it about an hour ago. Del waved his free hand to dismiss their concern.

Arianne’s head shook and protested the old man’s rebuff. "He needs medical attention. Now."

I trust Arianne’s opinion as a nurse, Del. Let me have a look. Gregory truly did when it came to nursing. It was every other situation he had difficulty believing. When he opened the backpack he’d worn, he retrieved a pair of gloves and a stethoscope.

Arianne? Cliff passed her a bottle of water and a peanut butter sandwich. Sorry it’s not much, but Mrs. Atlee thought you might be hungry.

Thank you. She paused to take a drink. Cliff? Isn’t it?

Yes ma’am. Cliff Franklin. I’m sorry for the introduction in such a grim circumstance. We’re real glad you’re safe, ma’am, but I think I speak for Gregory when I ask, what in the hell happened?

In two words… Arianne looked back at Del and offered her hand for him to hold as she readied to tell their story. Bob O’Malley.

---

Millie? Upstairs, Rafe rushed from room to room. Millicent?

Lafitte barked three times and he followed the sound, thankful for Jamie’s furry companion.

Nash, I’m here.

Based on the sound of her voice alone, Rafe could tell she was weak. Unsure of what he’d find, he prepared himself for the worst, yet what he imagined was a far cry from what he discovered in that bathroom. The scene downstairs had nothing on this room, and Rafe was convinced, he’d never seen this much carnage. The stench was sickening. Death mixed with stale sex. But it was the view that stole Rafe’s breath and nearly sent him to his knees. His wife, his beloved, lay face down surrounded by glutinous blood, and the only indication she was alive was the hand clinging to Lafitte. The dog barked once more, and Rafe patted his head.

Mills, you’re safe, love. I’m here. We’re going to get you to a hospital, baby. Just hang on. He turned her body to face him and searched for active bleeding. Are you hurt?

No… not… my blood.

Thank God. I love you, Mills. I love you so much, he cried.

I love you too. So much.

As he lifted her in his arms, Rafe drew her close, then regarded the Bowie knife and the two lifeless men lying nearby. Both had multiple injuries, the most noticeable being slit throats and some sort of large laceration to their lower half. Rafe drew back as he studied their faces, realizing for the first time how his wife had obtained her revenge. She’d cut their penises off and stuffed them in their mouths. Thanks to Millie, Patrick Flanagan and his friend had assisted Bob with their last criminal endeavor. As had the men who crossed Arianne and Del.

With Lafitte leading the way, Rafe carried Millie downstairs and laid her on a chaise lounge. Though she didn’t stir, her breathing was slow and steady.

Is she…? Del’s hand went to his mouth.

She’s alive. The two men with her aren’t, though. Greg, when you’re done with Del, can you please come check her out?

I’m fine. Go. Go.

In the brief time Gregory had to examine Del, he’d hypothesized the old man’s injuries were more substantial than any of them thought so at the risk of him getting worked up over Millie, Gregory honored his request.

We need to decide what we’re going to do about all this, but first, I need to speak to Arianne. Where is she? Rafe glanced around.

Needed some air. Cliff’s walking with her. Gregory paused and squeezed Rafe’s arm. Was Patrick one of the men?

What’s left of him. There’s a lot I’m confused about right now, Greg, but one thing I know for sure is these two women are the toughest I’ve ever seen. Del’s not so bad either. Rafe managed a smile in his direction. "Thank you, sir, for risking your own life to take care of my wife and mother."

Del’s mouth hinged at the jaw. "Nash? Dear Lord, how?"

Go see Ari, Gregory said. I’ll fill him in.

Rafe mouthed thanks and stepped outside, then looked over his shoulder to see Del’s wide-eyed amazement. He hoped this reunion with Arianne would be equally as joyful. Hi, he said, his voice low.

Hey, bud. Cliff tapped Arianne’s shoulder. Ma’am, I’m steppin’ inside to give you two some privacy.

Thank you, Cliff, she said when he walked away. As she turned her attention on the man edging closer, Arianne bit her bottom lip, a futile attempt to stall her tears. Nash? Is it really you?

Rafe popped the contacts out of his eyes and tossed them to the ground. It’s me, Mom. I’m here.

Collapsing into his arms, Arianne’s words came in rapid succession. I didn’t know. Your father didn’t tell me. You have to believe me. I would have come to you, Nash. I love you so much. I’ve missed you. Please believe me.

Shh… He smoothed her dark hair and kissed her forehead. After discovering the way Andrew had left Millie and Arianne at the boathouse, Rafe had no doubt she was telling the truth. I know, Mom. I know. When I didn’t hear from you a day or two after I told Dad, I should have come to you myself. Please forgive me?

Forgive you? I’m the one who needs forgiveness. For years, I neglected you. Pushed you to the side. I wasn’t a good mother to you. I wasn’t even a friend. It took losing you to see how wrong I’ve been, but please give me a chance to make it up to you. I know I don’t deserve it, but please?

I wasn’t worthy of a second chance either. My heart was more consumed with jealousy and anger than yours ever thought to be. And look at me now, a new man with a new life. The only thing missing was you.

For a moment, they clung to each other, mother and son fully reconciled, until Arianne lifted her head. Nash, Millie saved me. I-I have… an addiction to Xanax. I’d like to blame your father for making it available to me, but I’m the one who refused to deal with your death. Over the past several days, Millie has helped me through it. Beyond that, she gave herself to Patrick and those other men in place for me. They were going to rape me too, but she convinced them to take her instead. I couldn’t have a truer friend, and you couldn’t have a better wife.

Thank you. Rafe’s heart swelled with love for his beloved, yet this time it was mixed with the urge to kill. Millie was the most resilient woman he’d ever met, but she wasn’t impervious to pain. Knowing all she’d sacrificed was more than he could handle and enough to send him over the edge. Rafe would make certain Bob O’Malley knew they were aware of his intentions. He would answer this madness with some insanity of his own.

Hey. Gregory leaned his head around the door. Sorry to interrupt, but I’m going to take Del’s four-wheeler and meet Doc Caissy and Andrew at the lake.

An-Andrew? Arianne’s eyes widened.

We only brought him because he knows this land better than anyone. You don’t have to see him, Mom.

Or talk to him, Gregory added.

She swallowed hard. I don’t want to.

As far as I’m concerned, Greg, you can leave his ass in the boat.

Gregory concurred. He’d like nothing more than to tell Andrew to go to hell, but their situation wouldn’t allow it. If we had more manpower, you know I would, but these bodies can’t stay here. Something has to be done. Ari… He turned to face her. Andrew won’t bother you. You have my word.

Thank you.

Detecting tension between his mother and godfather, Rafe pressed the rosary he’d found into her hands, then stepped ahead, giving them a second to talk.

I’m glad you’re okay, Ari. Truly.

I am too. I’m… glad you’re here. I know my behavior has been erratic in the past few months, and I have an explanation—

Gregory held up his hands, cutting in. Now’s not the time. Not when the three of you need to get to a hospital. But you are right, we do need to talk. About a lot of things.

The urge was strong to persist questioning him, but Arianne held her tongue. He was right. This wasn’t the time or place.

---

Alone with his thoughts on the drive to the lake, Gregory cursed himself for his anger toward Arianne. Even though it wasn’t misplaced, she’d been through a traumatic experience, and her priority should be healing, especially since he had no concrete evidence that Pike was his son. Gregory laughed aloud. He had proof, he’d simply refused to see it for the past thirteen years. Again, he chastised his rationale. This was exactly why he couldn’t be with Arianne. No matter how much he loved her, she possessed the uncanny ability to make him forget his sensibilities. They were oil and fire. Unpredictable. Maddening. Combustible. Oftentimes, he justified their relationship by saying she challenged him, made him think and grow, but truthfully, Arianne did neither of those things. Nor did he for her.

As he slowed to a stop, Gregory glanced to his left, able to see the lake’s abandoned lighthouse in the distance. The structure had withstood hundreds of years of hurricanes, and he was glad to see it now. Andrew would likely join up there with the mouth of the river and follow it through to the bayou, which would put him closer to the boathouse’s location. Hoping he wasn’t too late, Gregory followed the overgrown path to the water’s edge. Less than a minute later, the sound of a boat’s motor confirmed he was not.

Are they alive? Jamie yelled over the boat’s roar.

Gregory gave a quick thumbs-up and watched years of stress melt from the old man’s face. How he hated to tell him the truth of what happened in that house.

Thank God, Jamie said as Gregory helped him to shore.

Listen, Doc, they are alive, but somehow, Bob’s men got to them first. Del made it to them a few hours earlier than us and he’s been shot. He’s stable for now. Arianne has several lacerations, but otherwise is okay. Millie’s injured also. Gregory braced Jamie’s shoulders. She was raped multiple times and probably needs surgery.

Though Gregory tugged at his arms, Jamie jerked away, finger pointed squarely on Andrew. Unsure of what to do, Andrew took a step back, but the force of Jamie’s cane impacted his chest and sent him backward into the boat.

"You, Jamie hissed, delivering blow after blow to Andrew’s gut. Get… out… of… my… sight. I never… want to see… you… again."

Doc, Doc. Hang on. Gregory pulled Jamie back with all his might but failed to stop the assault. We need him. We’ve got six bodies to dispose of, plus someone needs to take Del, Millie, and Ari to the hospital. Bad as I hate it, we need Andrew’s help.

Through tears, Andrew mouthed thanks to his former friend, but Gregory turned his head, pretending not to see.

"Andrew, take the boat in as far north as you can, then come