Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #1)(62)

Helena complied, and Maryse scanned the first row of files. Harris, Hartman, Hector…aha…Henry ! Maryse ran her flashlight over the row of files until she reached Helena then stopped the light on the shiny label on the side. “Got it,” she said, and reached for the file.

Helena reached at the same time and her hand passed right through Maryse’s, sending a chill straight through her body. “Cut it out. You know I hate that cold, and besides, you haven’t figured out how to pick up things anyway.”

Helena yanked her hand back in a huff. “I keep practicing. I figured, of all things, I’d be desperate enough to want that file that I’d be able to touch it.” She sighed. “Guess not.”

“Now is not the time for you to practice ghost games,” Maryse hissed. She yanked the file from the shelf, dropped quickly to the floor, and opened it, directing her flashlight onto the papers inside. The coroner’s report was right on top, listing the death as natural causes. She scanned the page and found out that when Helena had been brought in, the attending physician was a doctor from New Orleans who had been filling in for Dr. Breaux, who was out of town that weekend for a medical convention.

But the attending physician had gotten in touch with Dr. Breaux right away and was given all the particulars of Helena’s asthma problems and her subsequent failure to take his advice seriously. That was it. That statement alone had sealed Helena’s fate as far as an autopsy was concerned, and without any other evidence to support foul play, Helena Henry had been buried without an argument.

But she’d come back to correct the mistake.

“What does it say?” Helena asked, hunching over Maryse and trying to make out the tiny print.

“It says you’re dead,” Maryse replied, trying to brush her off so she could make out the medications at the bottom of the page. “I really need a copy of all this, but I don’t want to risk running the copy machine.” Maryse rose from the floor and carried the file over to an available desk in the corner. Helena trailed behind her.

“I’m going to write down the names of these medications and a couple of notes,” Maryse said, and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen off the desktop. “Anything you were taking on a regular basis would change your reaction to certain poisons. I need to narrow down the options as much as possible if we’re going to get anywhere.”

Helena nodded, and Maryse began to makes notes from Helena’s file. She finished quickly, snapped the file shut, and was just about to suggest they get the hell out of there when a familiar name caught her eye.

She shined her flashlight at a file on top of the desk and drew in a breath. Sabine LaVeche. Why would Sabine’s file be out on this desk? She hadn’t been sick that Maryse was aware of. Not even a cold.

“What’s wrong?” Helena asked. “Why aren’t you leaving?”

Maryse pointed to the file, and Helena stared. “You shouldn’t look at it. I know how you feel about Sabine, but it’s her place to tell you if something’s wrong.”

Maryse glared at Helena, angry that she’d clued right in on her current ethical problem. “Oh, yeah. And just when do you think she should have taken the time to tell me about any crisis in her life—after my truck wreck or after my cabin exploded? Maybe she doesn’t want to cause me any more worry than I’ve already got.”

“Exactly. All the more reason not to look at it now.”

Maryse looked back at the file and tapped her fingers on the desk. Surely Sabine would tell her if it was something serious, right? Even if things were a little weird right now. But there was that niggling doubt in the back of her mind. What if she didn’t? What if something was seriously wrong and Sabine didn’t want to tell her at all? In fact, if it wasn’t serious, why hadn’t she mentioned anything?

Maryse sucked in a breath as the one thing that Sabine would withhold from her came to the forefront of her mind. She grabbed the file up from the desk, yanked the cover open, and stared at the contents. Holding in a cry, she stared at the pristine white paper with those horrible words that confirmed her worse fear.

Sabine was being tested for cancer.

*

Maryse ignored the icy fear in her stomach and tried to slam down the cover on the file before Helena could see the horrible word on the test sheets. But she wasn’t fast enough. Helena sucked in a breath and looked at her, her eyes wide.

“Oh my God,” Helena said finally, her voice barely a whisper. “I thought maybe an unexpected pregnancy or some other nonsense that your generation is usually up to. I never thought for a minute…”

Maryse opened the file again and began to scan every page. The pages were all crisp, clean, and neat—so passive resting there, totally belying the information they contained.

“Are the results there?” Helena asked.

Maryse finished looking through the file and closed it. “No, only the request for the tests. But that wasn’t the first one. There have been four others, all over the last three years.”

Helena gave her a shrewd look. “But the others turned out okay, right? That’s probably why Sabine never told you anything. She probably figured this one would be the same as the others.”

Maryse looked over at Helena, her mind racing with the awful thought of a life without her best friend. “But what if she’s wrong? What if this time is the one? More than once a year is an awful lot of times to think someone might have cancer. Doctors don’t usually jump to that conclusion. And why now, right when I feel like I’m so close to discovering the secret and can’t even get into the bayou to work?” She gave Helena a determined look. “This changes everything. My life isn’t the only one at stake anymore.”