Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #1)(20)

Maryse groaned, afraid to look. She turned around and confirmed this world was definitely going to hell in a hand-basket.

Helena Henry was walking on water.

Chapter Five

The bayou tide was moving in a slow roll out toward the Gulf. But Helena Henry was a force of her own, inexorably making her way against the current. Every move forward put her a little farther downstream, and then every five steps or so, she’d jog a bit upstream, huffing like she was about to keel over.

If she hadn’t already been dead, that is.

Maryse stared at Helena and frowned, not certain whether to be more worried about another visit with the ghost or the fact that her physical fitness level apparently wouldn’t get any better in death. Perhaps she should start eating better and working out more. Or at least working out more—giving up beer was out of the question.

It took another couple of minutes for Helena to make it across the bayou and climb over the side of Maryse’s boat. She slumped onto the bench, dragging huge breaths in and out.

“Are you all right?” Maryse asked.

“Of course not.” Helena shot her a dirty look. “I’m dead.”

“Damn it, I know that. I just thought…I didn’t know…never mind.” The whole situation was simply too mind-boggling for thought.

“Sort of an ass-ripper, huh?” Helena said. “You’d think you’d get a better body if you’re destined to roam the Earth as a spirit.”

Maryse shook her head. “You don’t know any such thing about your destiny. Maybe the line’s too long at the Pearly Gates—maybe there was a thunderstorm on Cloud Nine and all the flights are delayed.” Maybe Hell’s full and they’re waiting for an opening.

“Maybe I’m stuck here until I figure out who killed me,” Helena said.

Maryse sat back on her seat with a sigh. “We’ve already had this discussion, Helena. I’m not an investigator and don’t want to be. In fact, I don’t want to be involved in this at all. You’ve already got Harold gunning for me—not that I’m complaining about the inheritance—but my point is my plate is not just full, it’s overflowing. I’m not about to get myself deeper in the hole by doing whatever you had in mind.”

Helena grinned. “I was thinking we’d start with a little B&E.”

“Oh, no.” Maryse shook her head. “I am not breaking into anything. I know you might find this hard to believe, but you’re not worth going to jail for, game preserve or no.”

“Oh, c’mon, Maryse. You never want to have any fun. Besides, technically, I own the house we’d be breaking into.”

“Not anymore you don’t. The historical society does.”

“But no one’s there. I’ve already checked. It won’t take ten minutes at the most.”

Maryse shook her head again, her jaw set. “No way.”

Helena studied her for a moment. “If you just do this one little breakin, I promise to go away for at least a day.”

Damn. Helena was playing dirty. A whole day ghost free was very tempting. But would she keep her word?

“It’s too much of a risk,” Maryse said finally. “What if someone sees me? There’s no way I could explain being inside your house when you’re dead. Everyone would think I was stealing or something.”

Helena laughed. “You…Ms. Goodie Two-Shoes…stealing? Not likely.” She narrowed her eyes at Maryse. “I might have a cell phone number for Hank somewhere inside and perhaps even a last known address.”

Maryse was instantly angry. “You told me you didn’t know where Hank was. I always knew you were a royal bitch, Helena, but keeping me from getting a divorce after the way Hank treated me is low, even for you.”

“Now, don’t get your panties in a knot.” Helena put up a hand in protest. “I didn’t know where Hank was until today. He called a few hours ago, and Harold wrote down his information on a tablet next to the kitchen phone.” She shrugged and looked away. “I guess he’s still trying to figure out how to get some money and clear his worthless butt with the locals.”

Maryse stared at her for a moment, but Helena wouldn’t meet her eyes. Was that actually remorse…sadness she saw in Helena’s expression when she talked about Hank and her money? Was it possible that Helena had been hurt by Hank’s disappearing act, too?

Letting out a sigh, she pulled up her anchor, not even glancing at Helena. She looked both ways up the bayou to make sure it was clear, then started her boat and crossed the bayou to Helena’s dock.

“Dock on the left side,” Helena instructed. “That way the boathouse covers you from one direction and the cattails will hide you on the other.” She gave Maryse a gleeful smile and clapped her hands like a five-year-old.

Oh goodie. All they needed were party hats and a cake.

Maryse edged the boat in between the dock and an enormous growth of cattails, then checked the bayou again. Still clear. And Helena had been right about the docking spot. The boat was almost completely hidden.

Of course, that in no way solved the problem of walking up the pier and across the backyard to the house, but hey, who was she to complain? She’d never even had a traffic ticket, but she was about to commit a crime with a woman who couldn’t testify on her behalf and certainly couldn’t be thrown in the clink along with her.