Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #1)(75)

“The only snake down that trail is Harold,” Maryse shot back, “and probably Hank.”

Helena shrugged. “Probably. Harold only started staying at the motel a couple of years ago, so he was taking his bit of snatch somewhere before that. Most likely it was the camp, but I never thought of it.”

Just like Helena to forget something important. Maryse pointed to the trail. “Well, now’s your chance to get caught up on things happening behind your back.”

Helena crossed her arms in front of her and shook her head. “Absolutely not. I am not wading into the marsh.”

Maryse threw her hands in the air. “What do you think is going to happen to you? You’re already dead!”

Helena glared. “You don’t have to keep reminding me of that, you know. It’s rude.”

“Maybe it’s hard to take you seriously when your face looks like a linebacker for the Saints.”

“Well, crap,” Helena grumbled and waved her hands in front of her face like a magician. If she pulled a rabbit out of her ear, Maryse swore she was going to kill her.

“What about this?” Helena asked a couple of seconds later. “Is the black gone?”

Maryse took one look at Helena, then closed her eyes and counted to ten. The black was gone, but she had managed to replace it with a vibrant, traffic-stopping orange. “Yeah, it’s gone, and just in case it’s deer season, you’ve got that covered too.”

“Well, it will just have to stay that way,” Helena said as she drifted through the car door and tromped off into the marsh.

As soon as she was gone, Maryse repeated the conversation to Sabine. “So now we just have to decide what to do next,” Maryse said.

Sabine shook her head. “No, we don’t. You’re going to call your attorney and have Hank served. That’s it.”

Maryse cast a wistful glance down the trail. Oh, but for the chance to throttle the life out of Hank Henry. “But don’t you think—”

Sabine cut her off with a hand. “No, I don’t think, and you don’t either. You promised.”

Maryse turned in her seat and looked Sabine straight in the eyes. “Just like we promised to never keep secrets from each other?”

Sabine averted her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Maryse wanted to be angry with her friend for keeping something so important from her, but her fear was so evident that Maryse’s heart broke in two. She clasped her hand gently over Sabine’s. “I know about the tests.”


Luc leaned over Brian and studied the monitor, then banged one fist on the desk, unable to hold in his frustration any longer. “Damn it! There’s no clear shot of his face.”

Brian looked up at him and let out a breath. “I tried everything, Luc. I know what you were hoping for, but this guy just didn’t give us the right view. Man, I’m sorry.”

Luc scanned the blurry image one last time and clapped Brian on the shoulder. “It’s not your fault. This guy knew what he was doing.”

Brian nodded. “Yeah, with the collar on that jacket turned up, the sunglasses, and his cap pulled down so low, one might think he was trying not to be recognized.”

“One might,” Luc agreed. “So what were you able to get?”

Brian pulled a sheet of paper off the printer and handed it to Luc. “I figured you’d want a copy of the analysis, but basically, this is what we have: the guy is about six feet tall, large frame, and looks like he was built at some time but his body’s lost its tone. His body movement puts him roughly in the fifty to sixty age range, assuming no debilitating injuries on a younger man, and he’s white. That’s about all I can give you.”

Luc sighed. “Great—an old, flabby, white male. You’ve just described half of the men in Mudbug.”

“I know it’s not much, but this along with the info you got on the explosion at the cabin makes me think you were right on your military assumption. Whoever this is, they had rigged explosives before, and based on the switches, they’re either former military or learned from someone who was.”

Luc nodded. “Once again, half the men in Mudbug. And what about the petroleum company info I called you about on the way here?”

Brian nodded and pulled up another file on his computer. “I cross-referenced all the companies licensed to drill in Louisiana with current operating locations. I figured companies with a base already established near the area would be the most likely to know about the land and want to acquire it.”

“Good thinking.” Luc leaned toward the monitor and studied the page as it opened. “Three companies, huh? You think it’s good information?”

“I think it’s as close as we’re getting to start. But don’t ask me what you’re supposed to do with the info from here.”

“I have an idea about that,” Luc said.

Brian groaned. “Man, I hate it when you get ideas.”

“Don’t worry. This one is easy and completely legal.”

“Well, that’s a change. Lay it on me.”

“I need to know if any residents of Mudbug own a significant amount of stock in any of the companies. I can’t imagine a board of directors would vote to bump someone off in the hopes that they can acquire some oil-filled land. There’s plenty of it to be had in Louisiana and other people willing to lease. So it’s got to be someone outside the company but with a vested interest in the company’s success.”