Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #1)(33)

Helena bit her lower lip and raised her head to Maryse. “You remember that envelope I had you look for in my safe? The one that was missing?”

Maryse nodded. “How could I forget?”

“Well, it had some documents from a survey of the land.”

Maryse closed her eyes in frustration. “So what did it say, Helena? Where are you going with this?”

Helena clenched her hands together and stared at Maryse. “It might have said that the preserve was full of oil.”

“What!” Maryse cried, then glanced around making sure no one had seen her yelling into empty space. “Oil? Exactly how much oil might that letter have said was in the preserve?”

“It might have said there was billions of dollars worth…”

Maryse stared at Helena, horrified. “Billions, as in I don’t even know how many zeros, billions?” Maryse felt a flush rise to her face. “Jesus Christ, Helena! You heard Harold threaten me at Wheeler’s office. He probably took that letter before the will reading. He expected Hank to inherit the land. That’s why he’s so mad.”

“Now, let’s not get excited.”

“Excited? Are you crazy? You’ve made me a moving target. One without a lot of places to hide given that I can’t leave Mudbug. Do you really think Harold wouldn’t take a shot at me over billions of dollars? He may be lazy, but he’s not that lazy.”

Helena took in a deep breath, and Maryse could tell that despite her protests, Helena was worried. Great. Just great.

“It’s only six days counting today,” Helena said. “We can come up with a plan.”

“What kind of plan? Maybe locking me in a Kevlar box for a week? Even the bayou has a limited number of hiding places.”

Helena shook her head. “I don’t want you camping in the bayou. In fact, if you could not go into the bayou at all for a while that would probably be better. As long as you’re surrounded by people, it will be much harder to get to you. And you do have a secret weapon.”

Maryse narrowed her eyes. “What secret weapon?”

Helena pointed to herself. “Me. Think about it, Maryse. I can look out for you without anyone suspecting. I can warn you if anything is out of the ordinary.”

Maryse stared at her. “Yeah, because everything else that’s happened this week has been normal. You’re not a weapon, Helena. You’re the angel of death, and I don’t want you anywhere near me. You’ve done quite enough.”

Maryse jumped into her rental and tore out of the parking lot before Helena could fling herself on the trunk or anything else ridiculous the ghost may come up with. Six days. Unbelievable. Not quite a week, and it seemed ages. Suddenly, still being married to Hank seemed like such a simple problem.

She turned onto the gravel road and headed toward the office. She had to get her head on straight. Had to come up with a plan. Maybe she’d just have a heart attack right here and now and save Harold the trouble. A second later, she slammed on the brakes and brought the car to a stop in the middle of the road. The thought that had hit her was so horrible, so awful that she couldn’t even breathe.

If Harold killed her, she might be stuck in limbo like Helena. Even worse, she might be stuck in limbo with Helena.

For all eternity.

Six days was looking shorter by the minute.


Luc eased the thin tool into the deadbolt on the door to Maryse’s lab. Since he’d hacked her e-mail and found out about her appointment with Helena’s attorney, he knew she would be late coming in. Unfortunately, the guy bringing him the tools got stuck in a traffic jam in downtown New Orleans, so he was getting started a good hour later than he’d planned.

He leaned in close to the door, listening for the tell-tale click that would let him know he was successful. It took a couple more seconds before he felt the tool give and heard the barely audible sound of the locking mechanism turning. He slipped the tool in his pocket to use inside on the locked drawer where the notebook was stashed, and grabbed a second tiny rod from the black carrying case that housed his breaking and entering tools. He’d need that one to relock the drawer and the door once he was done.

He closed the case and crossed the room to slip it inside his gym bag. If Maryse came back sooner than expected, the last thing he needed was for her to see the tool set and start asking questions. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what the thin blades were for, and Maryse was no dummy. The case secure, he slipped into the lab and worked his magic on the drawer. A minute later, he pulled the notebook from inside and headed out of the lab and straight for the office copy machine.

He flipped page after page, copying as fast as the antiquated machine allowed. The front office window gave him a clear view of the road and the dock, which was good since he was never quite sure what mode of transportation Maryse might use. Either way, he should see her in enough time to get everything back to where it belonged. He hoped.

Ten more pages or so, he thought as he turned the notebook over and over again and prayed that the copier would hold out. He was only a couple of pages from the end when the copier whined to a stop. What now? He studied the copier display screen and groaned. The thing was jammed, and if that display was any indication, it was jammed all over.

He put the notebook on the table behind him and opened the feeder tray. As he pulled a sheet of paper lodged halfway in the feeder, he looked out the window. Shit, shit, shit! There was no mistaking the red rental car turning the corner. And it was coming fast.