Trouble in Mudbug (14 page)

“Four.”

Luc gave her a sympathetic look. “That’s tough.”

Maryse shrugged and stirred her coffee. “I had Dad and Mildred, so it was okay.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same. My dad died when I was eight. I had tons of uncles and my grandfather, and my mom was super, but there’s always that feeling that it’s incomplete.”

Maryse stopped stirring and looked at Luc. “Incomplete. That’s the perfect word.”

“Yeah, well.” Luc shrugged and picked up his knife and the butter.

Maryse watched him as he buttered his toast, his eyes not meeting hers. It wasn’t fair. No man should be this sexy and be in touch with his emotions. And no man should be able to touch her heart in the way he just had.

“So do your dad and Mildred still date?” Luc asked.

“No,” Maryse said, her voice catching in her throat. “He died of cancer a little over two years ago.”

Luc stared at her for a moment. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine burying both parents so young.”

“I really should be going,” Maryse said, and rose from the table. “I’ve got a ton of things to catch up on this morning.”

Luc looked up at her and nodded. “I won’t be in the office till later. I’ve got to run some errands in the city.”

Maryse felt a momentary surge of disappointment but quickly squelched it. “Okay, then. Guess I’ll see you later.” She turned and walked out of the café, cursing Mildred for engineering her exposure to yet another facet of Luc LeJeune. Like she needed to find anything else about him attractive.

She shook her head as she crossed the street, mentally tabulating her list for the day. All she had to do was check on her truck, talk to the insurance company, meet Wheeler about the inheritance, get in eight hours of work for the state, avoid a ghost, locate a plant that she had absolutely no idea where to find, and figure out a way to wash Luc LeJeune from her mind.

Piece of cake.

Luc stood in the dealership garage in New Orleans, staring at the heap of mess that used to be Maryse’s truck. He knew what he was about to hear from the Service Manager—had been thinking about it pretty much since the accident, but for the life of him couldn’t make the facts add up. Someone had tried to hurt Maryse and used her truck to do it, but he didn’t know why.

He was still having trouble believing Maryse could be his informant. It just didn’t fit what he knew about her, although some of her actions were a bit suspect. But if it wasn’t the chemical company trying to shut her up, then who was? If that ridiculous will reading had been before the accident, he’d say someone was out for the inheritance. Most likely Harold or Hank.

So his next guess was it had something to do with what she was working on in that lab of hers. All he had to do was get the proper tools, find a window of opportunity to break into the lab without being discovered, steal that notebook, make copies, and find someone to decipher it before things got any worse.

Piece of cake.

“You occupy space here much longer,” a voice broke into Luc’s thoughts, “I’ll get you a set of coveralls and put you to work.”

Luc looked over at his high school buddy, Jim, the Service Manager, as he walked across the garage to stand beside him. “Damn shame,” Jim said and pointed to Maryse’s vehicle. “The truck’s got high miles, but the lady that owned it has taken care of it nice. It was in great shape before that crash.”

Luc nodded. “You checked into the scheduled maintenance?”

“Yeah, pulled it off the computer first thing. Lady had that truck in here just a week ago for regular maintenance and everything checked out fine. I talked to the tech that worked on it, personally, and he said everything was in top shape.”

“So why did a well-maintained, reasonably new vehicle lose its brakes?”

Jim pulled his hat off with one hand and rubbed his temple with the other. “You ain’t gonna like the answer.”

Luc looked at him, the inevitability of his friend’s words already weighing heavy in his mind. “Someone cut the lines.”

Jim nodded. “Yep. Almost clean through. They left enough so that the brakes would work for a couple of miles, then they would go to nothing almost immediately.”

“So they fixed it so she’d think everything was working fine and hopefully build up enough speed before noticing anything was wrong, which is exactly what happened.” He gave the truck one more look, then nodded to his friend. “Thanks, Jim. And if you don’t mind, can we keep this between us for now? And remember, I’m a zoologist. No one can know what I’m really up to.”

“Hell, I don’t know what you’re really up to, but I get what you’re saying.” Jim looked at the truck again and scratched his head. “What do you want me to tell the insurance company—or the lady?”

“Make something up that they’ll both buy.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Something that doesn’t have anything to do with attempted homicide.”

Jim swallowed and looked at Luc, his expression grave. “You’re gonna protect her, right? I don’t really know her, but every time she’s been in, she’s always been so nice and friendly. This is a nasty piece of business, and I just can’t imagine something a girl like that would be mixed up in that could get her killed.”

Luc gave the truck one more look and shook his head. “She may not know herself.”

Chapter Seven

Maryse made a mad run to her cabin, hoping to get in and out before anyone could discover her—namely Helena. She’d showered and changed the Band-Aids on her scrapes the night before at the hotel, so all she really needed was a fresh set of clothes. But her hopes were dashed as soon as she opened the door. A very irritated Helena Henry sat on her couch, staring at the wall in front of her.

“Where the hell were you last night?” Helena started bitching before she could even get the door closed. “I had to crawl through an open window to get in here, and the damned thing closed after me. I’ve been stuck in here all night with no way to get out. Do you have any idea how boring it is when you can’t read a book or turn on the television? I spent hours reading the labels on cleaning supplies that happened to be turned in the right direction.”

Maryse’s head began to pound, and she walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water and one of Dr. Christopher’s little pills. Mildred’s aspirin weren’t going to do the trick at all.

Helena rose from the couch and trotted after her. “And why in the world does your kitchen look like the cabinets spit up their contents?” She waved one arm over the counters, cluttered with utensils, pantry items, and cleaners. “Your housekeeping is an atrocity.”

Maryse tossed one of the pills in her mouth and took a huge gulp of water, wishing she had the nerve and the time to take two of them and just go to sleep right where she stood. “We don’t all have the luxury of ten thousand square feet of space to store our stuff, Helena, and I’m not even going to get into the cost of hiring a maid. It so happens that I’m installing some extra shelves in the cabinets and building a pantry in the corner, which is why all my stuff is on the counters. If I’d have realized I was going to have uninvited guests, I would have worked quicker. I’m sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities with my less-than-stellar housekeeping.”

“Hmmpf. Got a mouth on you this morning, don’t you? Who pissed in your corn flakes?”

Maryse stared at her.
“You. You
pissed in my corn flakes. You almost got me arrested yesterday, Helena, and Lord only knows what Harold’s plotting to do to me now that I inherited the land.”

Helena waved a hand in dismissal. “You weren’t even close to being arrested. And Harold’s too big of a pansy to do anything to you. He’s all talk and no action—believe me, I ought to know.” Helena looked over the contents of the counters again. “Shelves, huh? Well, at least that explains the power tools on the counter. I was really starting to wonder what you ate in here. Still, place like this out in the middle of nowhere, you ought to at least leave a radio or the television or something turned on when you’re gone.”

Maryse considered Helena’s night dilemma and smiled. After all, Helena had bored everyone to tears for years in Mudbug running her yap. It seemed only fair that she be the one bored for a change. “It may surprise you to know, Helena, that I’m an adult and sometimes I don’t sleep at home. Since I have nothing of value to steal, my cat spends his nights prowling the bayou, and the mosquitoes aren’t as picky about their entertainment as you, I really see no reason to leave appliances running while I’m gone.”

Helena glared but didn’t bother to ask where Maryse had spent the night. “Well, since you’ve decided to show up today, we need to have a talk. Things might be a bit worse than I originally thought, and I need you to check up on something for me at the library.”

Maryse shook her head. “I don’t have time for any of your shenanigans today. I’m two days behind at my job, I have a meeting with Wheeler this morning to discuss the ‘rules’ that come with this land inheritance, and I have a whole list of personal things to take care of on top of everything else.” Maryse walked into her bedroom and yanked some clean clothes out of the closet, Helena trailing behind her.

“You know how to use a computer, right?” Helena asked. “One of those women down at the beauty salon said you can find the answers to anything on the Internet. I figured we could find out about all this ghost stuff. You know, I’d really be a lot more help if I could touch things.”

“God forbid,” Maryse said and pulled on a clean T-shirt and jeans. “You’ve been too much help already. What I need is for you to ascend or rise or whatever and let me deal with the fallout by myself.”

“But this is important,” Helena griped. “You can think up new names for stinkweed some other time.”

Maryse grabbed her keys and left the cabin, Helena close behind. “Sorry, Helena,” she said as she walked to the dock and stepped into her boat. “I know my job may seem like nothing to you, but it’s important to me, and I’d like to keep it. Besides, since naming stinkweed is what has paid your son’s debts all these years, you don’t really have any room to complain.”

Helena stepped into the boat before Maryse could shove away from the pier and plopped down on the bench up front. “Fine, I’ll just wait until this evening.”

Maryse shook her head, wondering where in the world she was going to hide this evening. It had just become a top priority.

At the dock, Helena took one look at the rental car and looked back at Maryse. “What’s with the car?”

Maryse opened the car door and started to get in, but Helena rushed in before her, crawling over the center console like a child. Maryse stared at the big pink butt glaring at her from the center of the car and sighed. Not a sight you ever wanted to see in life, much less this early in the morning and with a head injury.

There was a moment of concern, when Maryse thought Helena wasn’t actually going to make it all the way to the other side, but finally the ghost twisted around and plopped into the passenger seat. Maryse slid into the driver’s seat and tore out of the parking lot.

“Did you sell your truck?” Helena asked.

“No. I didn’t sell my truck. I had a wreck yesterday.”

Helena sat upright and turned in her seat to stare at Maryse. “What happened?”

Maryse shrugged. “I don’t know. The brakes just failed for some reason, and I took a dip in the bayou. The truck’s probably totaled.”

Helena’s eyes grew wider and looked Maryse up and down. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Just banged up a little and pissed off that I’ll have to buy a new vehicle when the other one was still in great shape.” She studied Helena for a moment. “Why this concern all of a sudden?”

Helena sat back in her seat. “Have you read the instructions for the land inheritance yet?”