Mischief in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #2)(20)

Beau slid into the booth across from Sabine, wondering how in the world she made jeans and a plain blue polo shirt look so elegant. Maybe it was her hair, twisted in a complicated knot, with shiny black locks framing her face. Or maybe it was the silver earrings shaped like a teardrop.

Maybe you should get your head out of the clouds and focus on business.

“Should I even ask what your plans are for tonight?” Beau asked.

“No. I was trying to play a joke on Maryse, but apparently it backfired. She always gets the last word. I don’t know why I bother.”

“I like her,” Beau said, trying to block out the sweet smell of Sabine’s perfume. “She doesn’t dance around things, does she?”

“No. Finesse was never Maryse’s strong point. I think she sees it as a waste of good creative energy and time.”

Beau nodded. “She’s probably right.”

“Really? Then maybe you should try taking her shopping with you. We’ve been officially banned from two boutiques and a pet store.”

“A pet store?”

Sabine waved a hand in dismissal, at least twenty bracelets jangling on her arm. “It’s a long story and doesn’t end so well for the turtle.” She pulled a manila folder from a bright pink shoulder bag and slid it across the table. “This is the file I mentioned when I called.”

“The file your friend ‘appropriated’?” Beau scanned the police records inside.

Sabine sighed. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“This friend wouldn’t have been Maryse, would it?”

“Oh, God no! Maryse can be painfully direct and sarcastically entertaining but would never break the law. Well, almost never…okay, definitely not this time.”

Beau smiled. “Convinced yourself yet?”

“Not completely. Was it that obvious?”

“Well, let’s just say I didn’t have to be psychic to get it.”

Sabine laughed. “Good. Raissa and I already have the spirit world covered. It’s the real world I can’t seem to make any headway in.”

Beau sobered. “That’s another thing I’d like to talk to you about. I’ve got a lead on your family.”

Sabine’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding. So soon? I can’t believe it!”

“Don’t get excited just yet. It might turn out to be nothing.”

“Still, a lead in a matter of days when I’ve come up with nothing for over twenty years is definitely something.”

It’s now or never, Villeneuve. Beau took a breath and pushed forward. “I guess what I wanted to say is, before I get too far, I just want to make sure you really want this.”

Sabine stared at him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Lots of reasons, and probably things you never thought of.”

“Like?”

“Well, what happens if your family doesn’t turn out to be the kind of people you hoped they would be?”

“You mean they might be conservatives?”

Beau smiled. “That’s possible, of course, but what I had in mind was something a little worse.”

“Fundamentalists? Yikes.” Sabine’s expression grew serious. “I understand what you’re insinuating. My family could turn out to be people who don’t share the same value system—and while I know on the exterior I may look a little questionable, I assure you I’m really a law-abiding bore.”

Beau nodded. “And your family could be the kind of people that HBO makes movies of the week about.”

“Like the weirdo that tried to break into my building in broad daylight…and with three—two—people right upstairs?”

Beau’s senses went immediately on high alert. “Someone tried to break into your building? When?”

“Yesterday midmorning.” Sabine gave him a rundown of the attempted break-in.

“Did you get a good look at him?”

Sabine shook her head and described the intruder’s outfit. “The Mudbug police dusted for prints, but they only found mine and Maryse’s.”

“What did the police say? Has there been a problem with random break-ins lately?”

“I’ve never had a problem, and the only other breakin the police know about was at the hospital last week. The whole thing is very weird.”

“Do you keep much cash around?”

“No way! I take everything but a hundred dollars of change for the register to the bank every day right before closing. Everyone in town knows that, and even someone who didn’t only had to watch me for a couple of days to figure it out.”

“Could be junkies. They’re not always smart with their targets. And that would explain the break-in at the hospital, too,” Beau said, but his mind was whirling with possibilities. He didn’t believe in coincidences—especially not this kind. What if something Sabine had done had made someone nervous? It could be her search for her family or something else entirely, but either way, Beau wasn’t about to dismiss the timing of the attempted break-in. It might turn out to be nothing, but it would be foolish to ignore. “This is exactly the sort of thing I was worried about. And things could get far worse the closer we get to the truth. What if these people you’re looking for simply don’t want to be found?”