Showdown in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #3)(50)

Dr. Breaux looked at her over the top of his newspaper, an amused expression on his face. “It’s not even eight o’clock. It can’t already be a bad morning.”

Raissa poured a ton of sugar in her coffee, stirred, and took a long swallow. “Because it’s not even eight o’clock is exactly the problem.”

Dr. Breaux laughed. “So you’re not a morning person.”

“Not much. I’m more of a night owl, which tends to catch up with you when you agree to coffee with the chickens.”

“If I’d known you weren’t a morning person, I would have suggested seven just for a change of pace. It’s good for the heart, you know?” He put down his paper and gave her his full attention. “So what was so interesting that it kept you up last night?”

Raissa felt the flush at the base of her neck and hoped like hell Dr. Breaux would think it was only the coffee heating her up. There wasn’t anything interesting, really, unless you counted hot sex, an intruder, introducing a ghost, listening to an hour of Sonny Hebert cussing, more hot sex, and maybe thirty minutes of sleep. “Nothing much.”

Dr. Breaux raised one eyebrow. “The young man would probably be crushed to hear that.”

Raissa groaned. “It can’t possibly be that obvious. It’s because you’re a doctor, right? I’m emitting some pheromone. Or I have a tic. Please tell me everyone else cannot just look at me and tell I spent last night with a man.”

“Well, I don’t know about all that pheromone stuff, but in all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you flustered over anything. I realize that coffee you’re drinking is hot, but it’s probably eighty degrees in this café, and that coffee is not hot enough to make you blush.”

“Maybe you could give me something to throw people off track. Poison ivy would be a good start. Then people wouldn’t know.”

Dr. Breaux laughed so hard he shook the booth. “Lord, Raissa,” he said, wiping his eyes with his napkin. “I don’t think you have to go to such extremes. Why, if I were you, I’d be happy to have spent a night worth blushing over. It’s been a lot of years since my wife passed, but I’m not so old I can’t remember one or two of them enough to wish she were still here, and that we were both a lot younger.”

Raissa took another drink of coffee. “You’re right. It’s normal. It’s natural. Everything in nature does it.” She looked over at him. “Then why doesn’t it feel natural to me?”

Dr. Breaux cleared his throat. “If you’re having…female issues…I’d be happy to see you in a professional capacity.”

“If only it were that simple. It’s not the plumbing. That part is natural and exciting and everything it should be. It’s the emotional side of things that’s a problem.”

Dr. Breaux shook his head. “Matters of the heart I cannot help with. Unless of course, you’re having a heart attack.”

Raissa laughed. “Not yet. But I’m not ruling it out.” Raissa looked up as the bells over the door jangled and Maryse rushed in.

“Sorry I’m late,” Maryse said as she slid into the booth beside Raissa.

“No, you’re not,” Raissa joked.

Maryse blushed a bit. “I picked Luc up at the airport this morning. We had some catching up to do, so you’re right, I’m not sorry I’m late.”

Dr. Breaux gave them a wistful look. “Ah, to be young and in love again. I envy you girls.”

“It’s never too late,” Maryse said. “There’s a couple of eligible women in Mudbug I can think of.”

“No, my time has passed. I’m married to my work right now, and in a year or so, I’ll likely retire and spend the rest of my life sitting in a fishing boat off the Florida coast.”

Maryse nodded. “Probably a lot more relaxing than a relationship. And definitely cheaper. Do you have any idea how much furniture costs? Luc and I looked at couches for the new house last week, and I swear I think I’m going to sit on the floor. Ridiculous.”

Raissa laughed. “Says the woman who will pay thousands for a magnifying glass.”

“That’s a Meiji Epi-fluorescent microscope and is serious laboratory equipment. But I guess I see your point.”

“Well, ladies,” Dr. Breaux said, “I’m not senile enough to think two beautiful young women got out of bed early to have breakfast with an old codger like me just for fun. I have to assume something’s on your mind, and I have to admit, I’ve been itching to find out what. I’ve simply drawn a blank trying to figure it out.”

Raissa gave Maryse a nod. They’d already agreed that what they had to say would probably work better coming from Maryse, as she’d known Dr. Breaux her entire life. Raissa had suggested Maryse question him alone, but given her investigative background, Maryse wanted Raissa there to see if she caught things Maryse might miss. Raissa hoped he’d be forthcoming with his responses and there wouldn’t be anything to miss.

Maryse laid a file on the table and pushed it over to Dr. Breaux. “You know after everything that went down last month with me, the police got permission to autopsy Helena Henry.”

“Yes,” Dr. Breaux said and picked up the file. “Is this it? They gave you a copy?”