Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #1)(21)

Helena hopped out of the boat, skipped across the remaining water of the bayou to the shore, then turned around and waved for Maryse to follow. Casting one final glance around, Maryse pulled off her rubber boots, stepped onto the dock, and hurried down the pier and across the yard behind Helena.

She expected Helena to go to the back door, but instead, the ghost trailed off to the side and ducked around behind a row of azalea bushes. Maryse pushed aside a bit of the dense foliage and followed her. There was a small path, about a foot wide, between the bushes and the house. When they reached a narrow window, Helena stopped and pointed.

“You’re small. You should be able to fit through that.”

“Excuse me? You want me to climb in a window like a thief? Why don’t you have a key hidden outside somewhere?”

“Because I didn’t want anyone to break in, silly. C’mon, the window is low enough for you to climb in, and the latch on this one has been broken for months.”

The window was about four feet from the ground. God knew she wasn’t an acrobat, but she could probably make it work. At this point, she’d stick her head in a lion’s mouth for information on Hank. She reached up and pushed on the window, sliding it up until it wouldn’t go any farther.

She placed both of her hands on the window ledge and looked over at Helena. “I am so leaving this house through a doorway. Got it?”

Helena nodded. “Whatever you want to do. Just hop on in there and open the side door for me.

Maryse stared at her. “Let me get this straight. I have to do circus moves through a window, but you get to stroll in through the door. Why don’t you walk through a wall or something?”

“Oh, sure.” Helena pouted. “Go picking on my weaknesses when I’m at a low point.”

“You can’t walk through walls?”

“Not exactly. Well, I did once, but I haven’t perfected it yet. Last time I tried I almost knocked myself out. If you hadn’t left your patio door open yesterday, I wouldn’t have gotten into your cabin.”

Maryse shook her head. “There is something incredibly wrong with all of this, but I don’t have time to sort it out now.” Before she could change her mind, she pulled herself up to the window and shoved her head and shoulders through. She lost her momentum about midway through, and she kicked her legs trying to edge through the narrow opening. Finally, she crossed the balancing threshold and tumbled through the window headfirst into a stack of dirty laundry.

“Yuck.” She pulled herself up from the floor and brushed a really tacky pair of boxers from her shoulder. “You owe me huge, Helena,” she yelled out the window.

“Yeah, yeah, just open the damned door.”

Maryse picked her way through the dirty laundry, careful not to step on anything. Tennis shoes didn’t protect you from being grossed out, and Maryse knew if any of Harold’s boxers had touched her bare skin, she wouldn’t be able to look at a Calvin Klein ad for a long time.

The side door had a single deadbolt that Maryse slid back before she pushed the door open. Helena strolled inside like this was all completely normal and jumped over the stack of laundry and into the kitchen. “This way, and hurry. Harold should be home anytime now. He’ll be needing to pack.”

Maryse crept down the hall and into the kitchen, catching a glimpse of Helena as she disappeared around a corner. “You kind of left out that part about Harold coming home, Helena!” She rounded the corner and saw Helena at the top of a humongous circular stairway, beckoning to her from the second floor.

“It’s in my bedroom.”

Maryse glanced out the front window at the driveway. Clear. She blew out a breath and followed Helena up the stairs, wondering what exactly “it” was and why it was in the bedroom.

At the top of the stairs, Helena pointed to a closed door. “That’s my bedroom. I need to look in my safe.”

“Your safe? I’m risking an arrest over your pearls or something?”

“No, no! Just please get in there and open the safe. I’m afraid things aren’t going the way I’d planned.”

“Sort of an understatement considering you’re dead, huh?” Maryse pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Where’s the safe?”

Helena pointed to an oil painting on the wall across from the bed. It was an original of Hank, probably around age three and long before he’d become a burden on society. That incredible smile was already in place, even on such a small child, and Maryse felt a tingle all over again as she looked at the man she’d married.

Holding in a sigh, she lifted the painting from the wall, exposing the safe behind it. She glanced at the combination lock, then looked at Helena. “Well, do you have dynamite or are you going to give me the combination?”

“Fourteen, three, forty.”

Maryse twirled the dial and heard a click when she stopped on the last number. She looked over at Helena, who nodded, then pulled the lever to open the safe. She’d barely gotten the door open before Helena was standing almost on top of her, trying to peer inside.

“Damn it!” Helena ranted. “That son of a bitch didn’t even wait until my body was cold before he took the cash.”

“What did you expect? You didn’t leave him anything from your estate. He’s probably out pawning your silver right now.”