Missing in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law Mystery/Romance Series) (17 page)

“Let’s go,” Luc said and tugged her shirtsleeve.

“I can explain,” Maryse said as they left the hospital.

Luc shook his head and didn’t say a word—not while they walked to his truck or on the entire drive back to their home. Maryse had never seen her husband so angry and knew that although he’d been furious with Ross for the way he handled the situation, the largest part of his anger was with her. And no matter her good intentions, no way was he going to find merit in spying on the FBI with Helena in tow.
 

Seven hours and a mere bag of potato chips later, she had to admit she couldn’t find any merit either.
 

After he pulled to a stop in their driveway, he exited the truck and went into the house without so much as a backward glance. Maryse climbed out of the truck and slowly made her way inside, certain the volcano would erupt once the front door was closed.

As she stepped inside and stood in the living room, Luc stormed into the kitchen and grabbed a bottled water from the refrigerator. Oh yeah, he was definitely mad. But more importantly, he looked scared, and if anger was a scarce thing with Luc, fear was practically extinct.

Guilt washed through her in waves.
 

Why had she been so stubborn? Luc had never asked her to do anything without a reason. Why hadn’t she trusted that the man who loved her more than anything had a valid reason for asking her to stay out of the swamp?

He stared out the kitchen window for what seemed like forever. The sound of the kitchen clock ticking was the only thing that broke the silence. Finally, he turned around to face her.
 

“Do you realize how bad things could have been if someone besides Agent Ross had walked up on you?”

“No,” she said honestly. “I don’t realize how bad things could have been because you won’t tell me anything.”

“Is my word not good enough for you? Do you really trust me so little?”

Maryse’s gaze dropped to the floor. He’d hit her exactly in her guilty spot. “I never thought about it that way. I just wanted to help find Raissa.”

Luc ran one hand through his hair. “Look, I get it. I want Raissa found as much as you do. I’m not trying to diminish the seriousness of the situation, but you’re not a trained detective. Even if there were no risk from my end of things hanging over you, it would still be dangerous for you to insert yourself in the middle of the investigation. Someone kidnapped a federal agent and tried to kill another. Do you think they’d even blink at doing the same or even worse to you?”

“No, I guess not,” Maryse said, the enormity of the situation crashing into her like a tidal wave.
 

Luc crossed the living room and lifted her head with one hand so that she looked directly at him. “I love you more than life itself. If something happened to you, I don’t know how I’d make it.”

Tears filled her eyes and she threw her arms around her husband. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry or think I don’t trust you.”

He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “I know you didn’t. And part of the blame is on me. I should have given you more information.”

“I know you can’t tell me things, and that’s something I have to learn to live with.”

“That’s true, but this is different. This time, the potential threat was toward you. I should have bent the rules and told you more. In that sense, I guess I didn’t trust you either, and I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Maryse released him and he wiped the tears from her cheeks with his fingers. “We’re two sorry people,” she said, managing a small smile.

“Everyone can improve,” he said and motioned to the couch. “I’d like to tell you why I’m so worried. If you still want to know.”

“Of course!” Maryse sat in the middle of the couch and Luc dropped next to her. He was silent for several seconds, staring out the living room window and into the street, then finally he cleared his throat.

“Remember six months ago when I was gone for a month?”

“How could I forget? It was the longest thirty days of my life.”

He smiled. “Even longer than the first time Helena showed up?”

“Okay, the second-longest thirty days of my life.”

“I was working undercover on a big drug case in New Orleans. The supplier is a real piece of work. He targeted middle school and high school kids. Got them hooked on meth.”

Maryse’s hand involuntarily flew up to cover her mouth. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah, he was smart about it, too. Picked wealthier areas where the kids would have plenty of disposable income but parents who were too busy working or traveling to give them much attention. He used kids to do the dealing, so it made it even easier to convince the others to use.”

“And once they tried it…”

“They were hooked. Go too long without it and the kids would fall into a state of depression that they couldn’t handle.”

“So they’d go looking for more drugs.”

Luc nodded. “After a couple of deaths in the same school district, the DEA went in to try to identify the supplier. With the middle school’s approval, I took a position as a substitute teacher.”

Maryse stared at her husband. The husband who, like her, wasn’t convinced he ever wanted kids. “How’d that work out for you?”

“Ha. Yeah, in some ways, it was the hardest undercover case I’ve ever worked. But I managed to spot the dealers quickly and since they were young and unseasoned, it wasn’t hard to track them back to the source. I reported all my findings for a month and then at the end of thirty days, the DEA made the bust.”

Maryse shook her head, slightly confused. “I don’t understand. It sounds like everything went well. And that was six months ago, so why is it a problem now?”

“Because Antonio Rico, the head of the supply chain, made bail right after his arrest, then instead of heading straight for his attorney’s office to plan his defense, he launched his own investigation to figure out who the narc was. Word has it that Antonio is not all that stable and is hell-bent on revenge.”

Maryse felt her chest constrict. “Does he know it was you?”

Luc nodded. “We think so, and to make matters worse, no one has seen him in over a week.”

“And you think he may come after me to get to you.”

Luc nodded. “The wife and children of another agent on the case disappeared two weeks ago, and they still haven’t been found.”

Maryse’s heart pounded in her temples and she felt slightly dizzy.

“We have no proof that Rico was involved,” Luc continued, “but we have no other viable suspects.” Luc reached over and clasped her hand. “I am so sorry about this. I never thought my work would come back on me like this, much less you.”

Maryse sucked in a breath and slowly blew it out. “You see it in movies all the time, but I always figured it was just a plot device…you know, something that didn’t really happen that often.”

 
“It doesn’t. Most criminals are more concerned with getting a not guilty verdict. Seeking revenge on federal agents will only buy them more trouble and they know it, but apparently Rico is not your garden-variety criminal.”

“Jesus.” Suddenly the room felt hot and cramped.
 

“Do you have any idea what I thought when Agent Ross called and said he’d found you in the swamp?”

She sucked in a breath. “Oh no. You must have thought…I mean, given the circumstances, you thought he meant a body.”

Luc nodded, looking miserable.

Maryse teared up again, horrified that her own stubbornness had caused her husband such pain. “I don’t know what to say except I’m sorry. And I promise I will keep concrete beneath my feet and try to stay in plain sight of others. I can move my computer and some of my equipment to the hotel and work there until you think it’s safe.”

Luc leaned over and kissed her. “I hate for you to change up your entire routine, but I’d be lying if I said that wouldn’t take a load off my mind.”

“Can you help me move some stuff tomorrow morning?”

“Absolutely.”
 

“So, uh, do you want to know what I was doing?”

Luc shook his head. “I think I already have a good idea, and I assume you didn’t get anything useful or you would have already blurted it out by now. Although I do admit to being slightly curious about the boat theft part of the accusations.”

“Helena stole the boat.”

“Why did I know that’s what you were going to say?”

“Because it’s Helena.”

“True. So where is she now?”

“I have no idea.” Maryse bolted upright. “Crap. We forgot to get my cell phone from Stepford.”

“Stepford?”

“Stepford Agent—the man who was guarding me.”

Luc smiled and moved closer to her. “I’ll get it tomorrow. Now, if the fighting is over, can we move to the making up part?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Chapter Ten

Jadyn trudged behind Colt as they left another empty camp behind them. Daylight was fading quickly, and she knew they didn’t have time for much more searching.
 

“Maybe we could use flashlights and keep going,” she suggested.

Colt stopped and looked at the sun sinking over the line of cypress trees. “I’ve thought about it. We could, but we might miss signs of recent entry using only flashlights.”

“True, but at least we’d know if the camps were empty. Most of them had electricity.”

“Most of the ones we saw today did, but our next group moves us farther into the swamp and that area doesn’t have power. The owners use generators for electricity, but they usually take them with them when they leave to avoid theft. I guess I should have planned better and had us start with those first.”

“No second-guessing yourself now. Besides, we both agreed it made more sense to start with camps nearest where you found the car.”
 

He nodded and glanced once more at the disappearing sun. “If you don’t have a problem with the conditions, I wouldn’t mind checking out more.”

“I definitely don’t mind. If we see anything suspicious, we can always recheck that location tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” He stepped into the boat and fished two flashlights out from the seat storage. Jadyn clutched the flashlight and took a seat. It was the right thing to do, continuing their search as long as they were alert enough to do so, but it was also more dangerous. Once the sun went down, the traffic on the bayou would dwindle down to only the die-hard midnight fishermen, and without the general buzz of local boats, someone would be able to hear their boat coming from miles away.

Whoever was brave enough to kidnap a federal agent wouldn’t have any trouble opening fire on local law enforcement.
 

“That was the last camp in this section,” Colt said. “We need to backtrack a bit to get farther east, but with any luck, we’ll be able to check everything else west of the pond tonight.”

Jadyn nodded and settled in for the ride. Based on what she’d gleaned from the maps, it would take a good ten minutes to wind out of the area they were in and get to where the next section of camps started. Ten minutes for her to consider everything that could possibly go wrong with this plan. She shook her head. What she needed to do was shift her focus to something that could occupy her mind but not stress her out.
 

Like Helena Henry.

She couldn’t even imagine what all had transpired between Helena and the FBI agents, and God help her, she was dying to know. The fact that Helena had left Maryse behind worried her a bit, but if anyone could traverse the bayou without being sighted it was Maryse. Worst case, Ross detained her and would have to let her go. After all, he could hardly arrest her for being on her own property.
 

Colt slowed the boat and Jadyn peered into the dim light at the bank, barely making out the outline of a camp about twenty feet from the pier.
 

“This one belongs to your boyfriend Bart. He inherited it from his father.”

Jadyn threw her hands up. “Why does everyone keep calling him my boyfriend?”

“It’s kinda obvious he’s got a thing for you.”

“Well, the thing has to run both ways or it doesn’t equal a relationship. I barely know the man.”

Colt smiled. “A picky woman. I would never have guessed.”

He looked way too smug about Jadyn’s denial of interest, which irritated her. “What does Bart do, anyway?” she asked, knowing her interest in the other man would take some of the wind out of his sails.

The smile disappeared. “Construction. He’s a master welder and they’re in high demand with all the rebuilding after Katrina.”

“A master welder…so I guess that means he’s good at it?”

Colt nodded, although he didn’t look overly pleased about it. “The best I’ve ever seen except for his father.”

One of the boards on the pier sagged beneath her and she shook her head. “I guess the skill set doesn’t transfer to wood.”

“No, that’s the rule of professions—what you do at your job, you avoid at home, so I imagine most structures around Bart are falling apart.”