Mischief in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #2)(23)

“But what if we never know? What if the man who killed me dies without ever being caught and I’m doomed to roam here like this forever? I mean, right now I have you and Maryse, but what about a hundred years from now or two hundred? Once you guys are gone no one will even know about me, much less care.”

“You can’t think that way. I’m sure this will all work out all right.”

“You mean like your life is working out? Face it, life sucks and the earth barely tolerates our existence. Thanks for listening, Sabine. I’ll see you later.”

“Wait!” Sabine cried, but there was no answer and the depression in the cushion was gone. “Damn.” She picked up the journal and opened it to the first entry she’d read. What if someone had killed those women for their babies? What if they were roaming the earth like Helena, still waiting for someone to set them free? What if everyone had forgotten?

And now Sabine was the only one who knew anything about them at all.

If ever there was a time that Sabine wished she didn’t have a conscience, it would be now. She already had enough on her plate: Helena’s murder, her missing family, her cancer, and now her completely unexpected and unwanted attraction to Beau Villeneuve. She probably wouldn’t sleep for a year at this rate.

But what if others were stuck in between?

Sabine slumped back in her chair with a sigh. Even though she didn’t have a psychic bone in her body, that didn’t mean she didn’t believe in the afterlife and spirits and, well, pretty much darn near everything. And even if she hadn’t before, Helena was a pretty convincing argument. Sabine couldn’t bear the thought of someone else’s soul in limbo. She could at least spend a couple of hours looking into it.

She rose from the table and grabbed her purse. She’d start at the library. They had microfiche for the Mudbug newspaper for as many years back as there had been one. The obituaries would be a good place to start. Her aunt hadn’t made another note about the women in her journals, so Sabine had to assume she’d either let the whole thing drop, hadn’t found out anything in her own search, or hadn’t been able to prove anything if she had. She picked up the journal from the table and slid it into her purse. At least she had a decent idea of the dates to start looking.


[page]
From his booth at Carolyn’s, Beau had a clear view of Sabine’s building. She’d left the restaurant almost an hour ago but still hadn’t changed her shop sign to “Open,” which meant she either didn’t have any appointments for the rest of the day or she’d cancelled them because he had absolutely no skill at asking a woman for a date. And why should he? He’d shot more people in the line of duty than he’d asked on dates. Which, now that he thought about it, must say something about him, but he had absolutely no idea what.

He took one last bite of an absolutely heavenly banana pudding and rose from the booth. That attempted break-in at Sabine’s still weighed on him. The hospital break-in didn’t really concern him, as that was a choice spot for a drug user to try to get a fix if they couldn’t find any other way. But there was nothing about Sabine or her business to suggest it was worth breaking into her building, especially in broad daylight. Even if the burglar had thought no one was inside, it was a huge risk, even from the back door. Again, the desperation of junkies came to mind but he didn’t want to force that to fit. Not just yet. Nothing about Sabine had made him think she used illegal drugs, and she’d been vehement in her denial of keeping anything but a minimal amount of cash on hand.

Beau pulled some bills out of his wallet and set them on the table. He mulled over the possibilities, limited as they were, as he paid the bill. The timing of the attempted break-in coupled with his search for Sabine’s family troubled him, but for the life of him he couldn’t see where the two could have intersected. Sabine had never come up with anything remotely close to the angle he was working now, and all his activity so far had been restricted to FBI files and news articles. The family had no way of knowing that he was researching them. Not yet. So they had no way of knowing about Sabine.

Which meant her trouble was coming from something else. But what? And who would try a break-in in the middle of the morning, in broad daylight, and with occupants inside the building? It was damned odd, but if Sabine couldn’t even handle Beau admitting his attraction, she sure as hell wasn’t going to start unloading her secrets on him. And then there was always the chance that Sabine had no idea what had set this into motion. So many times in his work with the FBI, he’d seen cases of normal people thrust into the middle of something sordid without ever intending to step in shit. Certainly none of them realized it until it was too late.

Beau stuffed his change in his wallet and turned to the exit. He looked across the street just in time to see Sabine lock the front door on her shop, hurry to her car, and drive away. What now? He exited the restaurant and paused outside on the sidewalk, making a quick assessment of the town. The entire downtown wasn’t any bigger than a city block, but with the wooded areas and the bayou surrounding every side of the tiny town, there were too many possibilities for an unobserved approach to make Beau happy with Sabine’s safety.

The hotel was the tallest building on the street. If he could manage a front room, he’d have a clear view of Sabine’s building—the front of it anyway. He hoped she’d taken the necessary precautions with the back door after the last attempt. It was something he’d ask her about as soon as he had an opportunity. If she’d let him see the door and secure it, even better. Mind made up, he walked down the street to the hotel and stepped inside. A large woman with silver hair sticking up in all directions looked up from the counter as he entered.