Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #1)(42)

He scanned the e-mail files, sorting through the usual spam that not even the government could manage to screen…improve sexual performance, new stock alert, penis enlargement…ah ha, phone tap results. He glanced out the window as he printed the file, happy to see the road was still clear of Maryse’s rental.

This is it? One page for two phones? No matter how busy Maryse appeared, apparently it didn’t involve much in the way of phone calling. He scanned the list, looking for something that stood out—the state office, the attorney in New Orleans, her friend in Mudbug, her insurance company—and, wait a minute, a laboratory at a university in New Orleans.

Jackpot.

That lab must be running the tests on whatever it was Maryse was cooking up. Another glance out the window let him know he was still in the clear, so he opened his cell and punched in Brian’s number. “Brian, it’s LeJeune. I need you to hack something for me.”

“Okay,” Brian said, “what’s the case file number?”

Luc hesitated. “This one is off the record. At least for the time being.”

“Oh, man, not your botanist in distress again? Do you know how much hell I caught over that stripper in New Orleans?”

“She wasn’t a stripper, she was a performer, and you helped get her daughter back from the molester ex-husband who’d made off with the kid. Surely that was worth an ass-chewing.”

“I guess. But one of these days, LeJeune, you might want to think about settling down with one woman instead of rescuing every one you come in contact with. And if you want my help with your Sir Lancelot routine, you’re going to have to come up with something besides doing a good deed to convince me to risk that ass-chewing again. After all, I’m not privy to the same perks you’re getting out of these deals.”

Luc sighed, not about to admit that he was yet to receive a single perk from Maryse Robicheaux. In fact, it was exactly the opposite. The woman seemed to frustrate him on all levels. Something he wasn’t exactly used to. “How about two tickets to this week’s game?”

“How are the seats?”

“The best—they’re mine.”

“Throw in the use of your Corvette for the night and it’s a deal.”

“Absolutely not.” Even Luc didn’t remove his black, 1963 split-window dream machine from the garage unless it was a special occasion. “You know I only drive the Corvette when it’s important.”

“And you haven’t seen the woman I plan on asking to the game.”

Luc clenched his jaw. “Fine, but if you get so much as a scratch on her, I’ll kill you, and you know I know how.”

“Sounds reasonable. What do you need?”

“I need you to get some information for me. There’s a lab at Tulane University in New Orleans where Maryse is sending her stuff for testing. I need to know what she’s testing and why.”

“Jesus, LeJeune! Do you really think the university is just going to hand over that kind of information just because I ask nicely? Her tests are protected information, especially if she’s working on something she can patent.”

“So get a warrant.”

“Based on what, exactly? Hell, you won’t even tell me why you want the information or give me a case number to support it. How am I supposed to convince a judge to go along with this plan of yours?”

Luc frowned. “Don’t you have a friend, a contact, someone who could get you a line on the information?”

Brian sighed. “I’ve got a buddy who works in the science department. He might be willing to ask around. But he’s going to need some time to do it with any finesse or it will look suspicious. Then someone might tip off your botanist.”

“Yeah, okay. If that’s the best we can do.”

“And I mean real time, LeJeune, not an hour or two. This could take days, maybe even a week.”

Luc looked out the window as the Maryse’s boat raced up to the dock. He reached over to shut down the computer. “Just do your best. Make it as fast as you can, but tell your friend not to draw any attention to himself. I can’t afford exposure.”

“No problem. I’ll call when I’ve got something.”

Luc flipped his phone shut and watched as Maryse docked. Even from a distance, Luc could see her mouth set in a straight line, her upper body tensed. What now?

She entered the office without even a glance over, then poured a cup of coffee and stood staring at the wall while she drank. Luc stared at her back, then dropped his gaze to her behind, nicely tucked in a pair of old, tight-fitting jeans. “Do I dare even ask?”

“What?” Maryse spun around and looked at him as if realizing for the first time that he was in the room. “Oh, sorry. Good morning.”

Luc raised his eyebrows and stared. Okay, it was even worse than he thought. She was being polite. “Good morning. Is everything all right with you? You seem a little…distracted.”

“I’m just a little pissed and more than a little confused.” She refilled her coffee, then dropped into her office chair with a sigh. “My life used to be so simple, you know? I did my job, had my side interests, one friend, one surrogate mother…no drama, no issues.”

“Except for Hank,” Luc pointed out.

Maryse nodded. “That’s a given.”