Showdown in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #3)(39)

Raissa placed one hand on his thigh. “In our line of work, things are rarely black-and-white.”

“So how do you keep from crossing the line?”

Raissa shook her head and stared out the window. “I don’t think some of us can.”





Maryse looked up from her laptop as the bells above Sabine’s shop door jangled, then frowned when she saw the man standing there, stiff as a board, clad in a business suit, and still wearing his sunglasses inside. Definitely not a customer. She grabbed Helena’s box of MoonPies and tossed them into the break room, then motioned for Helena to make herself scarce. “Welcome to Read ’Em and Reap,” Maryse said as she walked over to the man. “Can I help you find something?”

The stiff pulled a pad of paper from his pocket and glanced at it for a second. “Are you Sabine LaVeche?”

“No. I’m Maryse, but I’ll be happy to help you if you’d tell me what you’re looking for.”

The stiff frowned. “I’m looking for Sabine LaVeche.”

“I’m sorry, Sabine isn’t available.”

“I need to speak with her—now. Tell me where she is.”

Maryse bristled. “If you’d give me your name, I’m happy to tell her you stopped by, but there’s no way in hell I’m giving out her personal information.”

Maryse saw his jaw clench and his face flush a bit. She stared him directly in the eyes until he finally understood that she wasn’t intimidated now and wasn’t going to be later. Finally, he gave her a disgusted look and pulled his wallet from his pants pocket, then flipped it open to show her his FBI identification.

She barely managed to hide her utter relief that the stiff was merely a fed and not one of the Hebert clan. “Agent Fields?” Maryse gave him her best confused expression. “Why in the world would the FBI want to talk to Sabine?”

“That’s confidential. Can you tell me where to find her?”

“She’s in the Bahamas on her honeymoon. There’s no way to get in touch with her.”

Agent Fields blew out a breath of frustration. “When is she returning?”

“In three days.”

“And when did she leave?”

“Yesterday.”

“I’m looking for a friend of hers, a Raissa Bordeaux. Do you know Ms. Bordeaux?”

“Yes.” It was all Maryse could do to hold in a smile. Agent Fields was so frustrated with her clipped answers, his expression looked pained.

“Do you know where I might find her?”

Maryse gave him her wide-eyed innocent look. “At her store in New Orleans?”

Agent Fields threw up his hands. “Obviously, if Ms. Bordeaux was at her store, I wouldn’t be looking for her here.”

Maryse shrugged. “Then I can’t help you. I have no idea where she is.” At that very moment, the statement was entirely true.

Agent Fields pulled a card from his pocket and shoved it at her. “If you see her, please give me a call. It’s a matter of utmost urgency.” Agent Fields spun around and exited the shop.

“What an ass,” Helena said.

Maryse nodded. “A matter of utmost urgency? Is that even English?”

“Pompous, stick-up-your-ass English. I’m not clear on the grammar part, though.”

Maryse walked to the front window and watched as Agent Fields got into a tan Honda Accord, adjusted his mirrors, checked his blind spot, then pulled onto Main Street and headed out of Mudbug. “That guy is wound way too tight.” She was just about to turn from the window when a glint of sunlight flashed in her eyes. She looked farther down the street to see where the reflection had come from and saw a black sedan with dark tinted windows parked at the far end of Main Street.

“Helena,” Maryse said and waved at the ghost. “Come look at this car. Is that the car that ran you and Raissa off the road this morning?”

Helena peered out the window. “It looks like it, but then all I know is it was a black Cadillac. Seems like the front would be damaged if it was the one that hit us, though.”

“Yeah,” Maryse said, “but when Raissa called earlier, she said Sonny had several of that make and model, right?”

“Four is what you said, I think.”

Maryse backed away from the window. “I need you to do something.”

Helena gave her a wary look. “You? You hate it when I ‘do something.’ ”

Maryse glanced back outside and walked to the cash register before she could change her mind. “I know, but this is different. We have to find out who the guy in the car is. If I walk down there, he’ll leave. Well, best case, he’ll leave.”

“Worst case, he’ll shoot you.”

“There is also that.” Maryse pulled a disposable camera from beneath the cash register and handed it to Helena. “Which is why I’m not the one who’s going to walk down there.”

Helena stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “You want me to take a picture of him? Won’t that be a little noticeable?”

“Yeah, for a minute, maybe. Hide the camera in your pocket until you get to the car. I’m still working on this ghost-logic stuff, but that should keep it fairly concealed. If you can’t get a clear shot of them through the driver’s window, then take a picture through the front windshield.”