Showdown in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #3)(62)

The captain nodded. “You tell me as soon as you have something. First, I need you to check out this other case. Make sure it has nothing to do with the Francos.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’d be wasting time when I could be looking into those leads.”

“I know that, but you’re also the only one in contact with the Bordeaux woman. I want you to see the crime scene so you can relay the details to her. Make sure there’s not something in the FBI files that was missed or that we weren’t given. I don’t want that information second-and thirdhand.”

“No problem, sir. I’ll get on it right away.”

He took the sheet of paper with the crime-scene address on it from the captain and hurried through the station and back to his car. At least he hadn’t been there long enough to get towed. He pulled away from the curb, his tires squealing. This was a colossal waste of time. If the captain hadn’t been insistent, he’d have found some way to get out of it. He glanced down at the address and turned right at the red light.

Ten minutes later, he pulled up in front of a construction site. An older man and a woman stood out front with a patrolman. They both looked worried. Zach crossed the lawn, displaying his badge as he approached. “I’m Detective Blanchard. What’s going on here, B and E?”

The patrolman shook his head. “No sign of forced entry, and nothing missing but the cabinetmaker.”

“Maybe he’s sick or didn’t want to do the job any longer.”

“No way,” the older man said. He extended his hand. “I’m Chuck Daigle. I own the construction company building this clinic.” He waved a hand at the worried woman. “This is Lila Comeaux. She’s the owner of the clinic. We both know the man who’s missing, and neither of us thinks this is in character. In fact, we’d swear to it.”

Zach held in a sigh. He’d heard that all too often. “Any signs of a struggle?”

“No,” the patrolman answered, “but there are some irregularities that make me think these two might be right. Let me show you.”

Zach followed the patrolman into the clinic and down the hall, Chuck and Lila trailing behind. They stepped into the last room, and the patrolman pointed to a ladder in the corner of the room. “The guy’s wallet and keys are on top of that ladder. His truck’s out back and hasn’t moved from where it was parked yesterday.”

“There’s more,” Chuck said. “The table saw was still plugged in. There was an open can of stain right there in the middle of the floor with the brush right beside it, and from the way the stain was set on top, it had been open for a while. There’s no way he just left things like that.”

Zach walked around the room, studying the area. Considering it was a construction site, the room was pristine, but then, since he was staining cabinets in this area, it needed to be. He took a look at the cabinets and decided it was probably some of the best workmanship he’d ever seen. Everything about this guy said orderly and dedicated. As much as he hated to admit it, something was wrong with this picture.

“Anyone check where he lives?”

The patrolman nodded. “I sent a guy by there as soon as I saw the scene here. Apartment manager let him in, but the place looks fine. No sign of forced entry and no sign of the guy.”

Zach blew out a breath and lifted the wallet from the ladder. “I’ll take his wallet and keys, run him through the system…see if we can come up with anything. So who is this cabinetmaker?”

“His name is Hank Henry,” Chuck said. “He’s really been doing a fine job here. Something must be wrong.”

Zach froze. Surely, it wasn’t the same Hank that Raissa had mentioned last night. The one that Sonny Hebert’s men were “watching.” He flipped the wallet open and pulled out the driver’s license. It was a lousy picture, like most licenses. He needed to run the guy as soon as possible.

The patrolman nodded his head toward Chuck. “Chuck tells me Hank’s had some trouble in the past but nothing to speak of since being on-site, until yesterday.”

“What happened yesterday?”

“There was a guy,” Chuck said. “Looked like he was hassling Hank.”

“Did you ask about it?” Zach asked.

“Yeah, but the guy said he was asking for directions, then took off. I don’t think it was the truth. The guy…well, I don’t know how to say this without incriminating myself, but he reminded me of some of the ilk I had to deal with when I first got started in construction. You know the type.”

“The type that shake you down for money if you want to stay in business?” Yeah, Zach knew the type, and it was hitting far too close to home.

“Yeah,” Chuck said. “I’m not saying that’s what was going on, but I don’t believe the guy was asking for directions, either.”

“Would you recognize the guy if you saw him again?”

Chuck nodded. “I’m pretty sure I would.”

“Good. I’ll send someone over with some pictures…see if you can help us with another angle to investigate. Will you be here all day?”

“Until five or so.” He reached into his pocket and handed Zach a card. “Give me a call. If I’m not here, I can meet anywhere to look at the pictures. Doesn’t matter what time.”