Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #1)(85)

Maryse grinned at Sabine, not caring in the least that Mildred was being bossy and pushy. Being bossy was simply her way of assuming control of the situation, her way of finding relief. Maryse relaxed on the couch and propped her sore feet on the coffee table, then took the water and aspirin from Mildred and downed them both.

The hotel door opened, and Luc walked in with a man he introduced as Agent Stephens. Maryse worried for a moment that this man might have seen her in fewer clothes and a much more compromising position, but she wasn’t about to go there now.

“More agents,” Maryse finally asked. “Is something wrong?”

Agent Stephens smiled. “Not at all, Ms. Robicheaux. And please, call me Brian. Everything is actually great.”

Maryse looked from Brian to Luc, hoping for confirmation and an explanation. “Really?”

Luc nodded. “The local police picked up Harold at the motel where he was staying. He’s in a small dingy cell, and he won’t be leaving for a long time. We’re betting the DA goes for the death penalty.”

Maryse shook her head. “He can’t.”

Luc looked confused. “Harold confessed to murdering his wife. That rates the death penalty in Louisiana.”

“Except that Harold didn’t kill Helena.”

All movement in the hotel ceased, and everyone stared at Maryse.

“How can you know that?” Sabine asked.

“Simple,” Maryse said. “Harold said he slipped rat poison in her coffee, but Helena’s medical file didn’t indicate any of the symptoms from rat poisoning at all. He may have tried to kill her—and me—but he didn’t succeed in either case.”

“Shit!” Luc said. “Not exactly the outcome I was looking for.”

Maryse nodded. “I understand, but Harold’s confession should be enough to get a court order to exhume Helena’s body, right? With a proper autopsy, looking specifically for foul play, we might get some answers.”

Luc looked over at Brian, who nodded. “Should be easy enough for the local DA to get,” Brian said.

“And what about Hank?” Maryse asked. “Did the police get a statement from him?”

Brian glanced over at Luc, clearly unsure how to answer. Luc looked at Maryse and shook his head. “Hank’s gone. His hospital bed was empty when the locals went to question him, and the nurse confirmed he never checked out through proper channels.”

“Gone?” Maryse tried to hide her disappointment. Why had Hank left? At this point, he couldn’t be found guilty of anything except being stupid, and that wasn’t a crime or half the people she’d ever met would be in jail.

Luc handed her an envelope. “He left this in the room.”

She took the envelope and opened it, pulling the papers from inside. It was a signed divorce decree. No note. Only Hank’s signature, putting an end to the marriage that never really was. She supposed he figured it was the least he could do for her. Maryse passed the papers to Mildred, who gave an exalted cry and waved them in the air at Sabine, who cheered.

Brian Stephens smiled. “Well, I guess if you guys don’t need anything else from me, I need to report back to New Orleans and fill them in on this latest angle in our case against the chemical company. Luc can explain the rest.” He gave everyone a wave and exited the room.

Maryse looked over at Luc. “The rest of what? I mean, I guess with the killer being Johnny—” Maryse choked a bit and had to clear her throat before continuing. “He said it was all because of the illegal dumping, so I guess that’s relevant to your case, right? But I still don’t understand why he thought I was getting evidence against the chemical company.”

Luc looked at her and sighed. “I think I do.”

Maryse stared at him in surprise. “How can you know?”

“I can’t know for sure, but I have a damn good idea what happened. One of those plants you sent for testing was selected from a contaminated area. When the head honchos at the chemical company realized that you pulled a plant from contaminated water and shipped it off to a lab in New Orleans, they assumed you were on to them and put pressure on Johnny to fix the situation.”

Luc stared down at his feet for a moment. “I’m really sorry, Maryse, that it was Johnny. I know you thought he was your friend. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think he was in his right mind any longer. The desperation that goes along with a terminal illness can break people. Obviously he wasn’t strong enough to do the right thing.”

Maryse sniffled. “I know. I keep trying to tell myself it wasn’t personal, and it certainly wasn’t about my dad, but it’s hard, you know? I mean, Johnny claimed this dumping is what gave my dad cancer in the first place, and he never spoke up. What kind of man does that?”

Mildred stepped over to Maryse and put one hand on her shoulder. “No man does that, honey. When it comes down to it, there’s just no excuse good enough, and we’re all going to have to live with that.”

Maryse shook her head. “I guess that explains Harold’s comments about the irony of life. He wasn’t special forces—Johnny was. Harold was the mess cook.”

Luc nodded. “I’m sure you’re right.”

Maryse took a deep breath. “Then I guess it’s just a matter of going through my notes to find the contaminated area. I documented every location that I got plants from. It has to be one of the more recent ones or they wouldn’t have panicked, right?”