Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #1)(72)

Probably going to see his “buddy” in New Orleans. Another DEQ agent, she had to assume at this point. Maybe they were going to review the tapes and see if Luc recognized the man outside the office. And then a terrible, horrible thought hit her. Her eyes blurred, and she walked headfirst into the corner of the door.

Video tape! Satellite feed!

And she’d been having sex with Luc right there on the desk in the middle of the office.

Sex on her desk wasn’t exactly the way she’d always pictured herself on film. No, for her first foray onto camera, she’d had something a bit more dignified in mind, and something requiring a lot more clothes. Something like accepting the Nobel Prize for Medicine.

Her one foolish dream.

“Something wrong with you?” Mildred asked as she entered the hotel office, completely cutting into her thoughts of a royal romp.

Maryse frowned. A shorter list would probably be what wasn’t wrong. “Nothing more than the usual.” And a videotaped orgasm with a lying DEQ agent.

Mildred stared, not looking in the least bit convinced. Time for a distraction.

“Any luck locating Harold?” Maryse asked.

“Yep. Sara Belle down at the salon says she’s almost positive she saw Harold unloading a suitcase at that fleabag motel on the outskirts of town.”

Maryse groaned and slapped her forehead. “Helena left him that motel. Why didn’t I think of that?” And even more, why didn’t Helena think of that? Did she have to do all the work here?

Mildred narrowed her eyes at Maryse. “You’re not thinking of tailing Harold, are you? ’Cause I don’t have enough savings to post bail for murder. I don’t want you anywhere near Hank Henry unless the police are involved. With guns. And Mace. Lots of Mace. And maybe one of those electric rods that makes you stupid senseless when it touches you.”

“A stun gun,” Maryse provided, although it was pointless information. Hank was already stupid senseless. Being jolted with fifty thousand or so volts of electricity might even make for an improvement. And if not, it would certainly make for a good show. “I’m not going to tail Harold,” Maryse assured her. “I’ll have someone else do it. Someone less conspicuous than me.”

Mildred nodded. “Good. Probably needs to be Luc then. You know I love Sabine, but she’s not exactly the sharpest tool in the box. You don’t have to know where you came from to decide where you’re going. If only she’d get her head out of the damned clouds and down her on Earth, that girl could probably make a lot of herself.”

“Sabine’s fine, and lately, she’s backed off a lot on the whole parental search thing.” Maryse waved a hand in dismissal. “I know you think the whole paranormal thing is complete bunk, but at least she’s making money. There are probably worse things.”

Mildred stared at her for a moment. “I think the whole paranormal thing is bunk? Last time I checked, you weren’t exactly jumping on that bandwagon either. Did you hit your head too hard in one of those mishaps of yours?”

Oops. Momentary lapse of consciousness. And definitely all Luc’s fault. She gave Mildred a sheepish smile. “Of course, I don’t buy into that stuff. I’ve just given up trying to convince Sabine otherwise. As long as her business is successful, I guess I just decided who cares.”

Mildred narrowed her eyes, and Maryse knew the hotel owner suspected something was up. Something Maryse wasn’t telling her. In ten billion years she’d never come up with the ghost of Helena Henry, so Maryse figured she was in the clear as long as she didn’t spout off something stupid again.

“Well, why don’t you try to rest,” Mildred said finally. “I’ll be right here if you need me.” She pointed to the front of the hotel. “And no standing in front of the plate-glass window.”

Maryse nodded and left the office. There was no way possible she could rest. Between ghosts, attempted murder, and videotaped sex, she was about to have that nervous breakdown she’d been putting off. And avoiding Mildred until she had control of her racing emotions probably wasn’t a bad idea. If she stayed in the office with Mildred’s hawk eye on her, she knew she’d end up confessing her sins of the flesh. And she wasn’t ready to discuss her romp with Luc the Liar, especially given her track record with questionable men.

She snuck in a call to Sabine but got her voice mail. She left her a brief message with instructions to come directly to the hotel when she got back from visiting Raissa, then closed her phone, shoved it in her pocket, and sighed. Finally deciding she couldn’t stand around in the hallway until Sabine showed up, she grabbed a bottle of Pledge and a rag from the storage closet and began to polish the spindles on the stairwell. She finished that chore in about thirty minutes, and then Sabine walked in, saving her from doing something really strange, like vacuuming the lobby. Sabine stared at her for a moment, then sniffed the air. Since the entire stairwell smelled lemony fresh, there was really no hiding what she’d been up to.

Sabine raised one eyebrow. “You want to tell me why you’re avoiding Mildred?”

Maryse glared. “I thought you weren’t psychic.”

Sabine laughed. “It doesn’t take a genius to see that something’s wrong if the woman who hates cleaning more than root canals starts breaking out the Pledge on a building that’s not even hers.”