by Robin Caroll
“Congratulations. Who’s the lucky lady?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but MaryEllen Grant.”
Gary had to think. He knew the name…Oh, yeah, she worked over at Miller’s store. A social wannabe. He nodded and jotted down her name.
“You already to the point in setting up your business that you bought fuel?” Bob asked, pushing off from the doorway.
“Yep.” Niles shoved to his feet. “Come on out back. I’ll show ya.”
They followed him through the house toward the back door. Gary chose his steps carefully, avoiding crushed soda cans and paper napkins fisted into tight wads.
Hopefully, MaryEllen would call for a full remodeling before she said, “I do.” At the very least, she needed to demand a thorough cleaning of the place. Dirty dishes crowded the sink, and the stench of spoiled milk permeated the close quarters. Gary hurried outside.
“This here’s my boat, the MaryEllen. Just bought her two weeks ago and got her all gussied up myself.”
Too bad Niles hadn’t given as much attention to his house. The boat was polished to a shimmering shine. Four captain’s chairs, oversized live bait compartment, six life jackets onboard and a selection of fishing tackle that would make Bass Pro Shops proud. Gary made notes, but Niles seemed legit. No one would invest this much in a boat without hoping to recoup some of the expenses.
“Where are you storing the fuel?” Bob asked.
“Over here.” Niles led them to what looked like a propane gas tank. “I recycled this to hold my fuel, so I don’t have to keep running over to Fenton’s place if I get lucky and charter back-to-back fishing expeditions.”
Bob inspected the gauge on the tank. “This reading accurate?”
“Pretty much.”
Bob caught Gary’s gaze and gave a curt nod.
Time to move on. Gary extended his hand to Niles. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Patterson. Good luck in your business, and your upcoming marriage.”
Niles shook his hand. “Thanks.”
On the walk around the house to the car—no way was Gary going back through that kitchen—Bob informed him the gauge read almost fifty-four gallons in the tank. “He had to fill up his boat, so that wouldn’t leave enough to have been used as the accelerant.”
“I’ll still run a background check on him, just to be on the safe side.” But as Gary started the cruiser’s engine, his gut instinct told him the man would come back clean.
“Want to pay Mr. Haynie a visit?”
Gary glanced at the dashboard clock. Four-fifteen. “Actually, I need to check back in at the station, file this report and order the background checks on Patterson and Haynie.”
“Yeah, I need to send in my report, too. I’ll meet you at the office at eight in the morning. Maybe we can surprise Kevin Haynie.”
“I hope so.” Gary turned onto the station’s street.
Yeah, he really hoped so, because their suspect list was dwindling down to nothing, and he hadn’t a clue where else to look.
Where on earth had the rocker come from?
Monique stared as the delivery truck unloaded a single, large wooden rocker with cushion. “Where do you want this?” The man huffed.
She’d tried to find one and order it earlier, but had been out of luck. “Um, I think there’s a mistake. I didn’t order this.”
“Lady, it comes to you. Just tell me where to put it.”
Without question, she knew. “The bedroom.” She led the way down the hall.
He shifted around her into the room. “Where?”
“By the window.” It looked perfect there, just as she’d imagined. “But I didn’t order this.”
He handed her an envelope and a clipboard. “Sign here.” He pointed to a line and stuck a pen in her hand.
So what if she was charged for this later? She’d tried to order one like it anyway, but had been told it wasn’t available. The rocker was the exact one she’d wanted.
She scrawled her signature where the man indicated, then handed the clipboard back.
He took it and headed to the front door without so much as “Thank you” or “Have a nice day.” She followed and saw him out.
“I thought you couldn’t find the chair.” Felicia walked into the living room from the kitchen, chewing on a piece of cheese from the tray Parker had brought over earlier.
The guy still gave her the willies, although he’d been nothing but nice.
“They just brought it in,” CoCo announced around a cracker.
“But I didn’t order it.” Monique realized she still held the envelope. Turning it over, she withdrew a card from inside. It was a housewarming card. She slowly opened it.
TO SIT AND LOOK OUT OVER THE BAYOU. CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR NEW HOME, GARY.
Tears choked her. “It’s a housewarming gift. From Gary.”
Both CoCo and Felicia seemed to “hmm” in unison. She ignored them. How kind of him. To send a gift for the house. Her house. And the perfect gift, too. One she’d mentioned she wanted. He’d paid attention and ordered it for her. Her pulse hiccupped. Such a gesture…well, she’d figure out why her heart pounded so quickly later.
“Wait. I have a housewarming gift for you, too.” Felicia nudged her husband. He disappeared outside, returning in a few minutes with a large, framed piece covered with brown paper. He handed it to Felicia, who smiled and put it in Monique’s hands. “This is for you. Spence and I saw it and immediately thought of you yesterday.”
Monique was overwhelmed. Her new family and friends were so thoughtful and generous.
Family. How many years she’d yearned for family, and now she had an amazing one. A family who loved and accepted her just as she was.
“Well, open it! I want to see what it is.” CoCo hopped from foot to foot.
Laughing, Monique ripped the paper and stared at the picture.
Framed in the same cherrywood as the coffee and end tables, it was a portrait. The background of the picture conveyed a sun setting over the bayou. The beautiful photography captured the feel of peace and tranquility Monique had felt immediately upon arriving in the area. Inscribed in black calligraphy was a Scripture verse:
You are my hiding place;
And you will protect me from trouble
And surround me with songs of deliverance.
—Psalms 32:7
Monique stared at Felicia, tears burning the back of her eyes. She blinked several times. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“Spence and I saw it at the same time and looked at each other and said, ‘Monique.’ We had to get it for you.”
“I love it.” She smiled at Spence. “Thank you. Would you hang it over the mantel for me, please?”
“Yes, ma’am. Let me find the hammer and nails.” He trotted off toward the garage, which was piled high with furniture boxes and empty shopping bags.
Monique turned slowly around in the living room. Her living room, with furniture she’d picked out while laughing with Felicia. Her home, her family, her place.
All the furniture had been delivered earlier and she, CoCo and Felicia had ordered Luc and Spence around in the arrangement and rearranging. Several men from Spence’s congregation had come by to provide muscle. Now, with everyone gone save her family, the house seemed in order, aside from the decor touches she’d add later.
Luc wandered through the house, inspecting.
She paused, watching him move from room to room. What could he be thinking? Was he remembering his great-uncle’s things here? Was the memory of the harrowing moment when his uncle had turned on him and tried to kill him haunting him now?
He stepped back into the living room, a smile on his face. “It looks really nice, Monique. It’s uniquely you.”
Her face muscles quivered into a big grin. “I’m gl—”
Berrk. Berrk. Berrk.
CoCo spun toward the front windows, now boasting new drapes. “What in the world is that?”
“My car alarm.” Moniqu
e rushed toward the door.
Luc grabbed her arm. “Let me and Spence check it out.” They hurried out to the car, Monique hot on their heels, followed by CoCo and Felicia.
No one was around the SUV, or even in sight. Monique went to the keypad on the door and punched in the numbers. The screeching ceased.
Luc sighed. “I thought I told y’all to wait inside.”
“And we’re so good at obeying, right?” CoCo grinned.
Monique just stared at her vehicle. Her back two tires were flat, having been slit. A note was tucked under the back windshield wiper. A note with one word, made in big, black, block letters.
LEAVE.
“Oh, no,” Felicia whimpered.
Spence grabbed his wife and Monique gently by the arms, turning them toward the door. “Get inside.” He nodded to Luc, who already had CoCo by the hand. “We’ll call the deputy from there.”
Monique tugged free of Spence. “Let me get the letter.”
“No!” Luc moved to block her path. He lowered his tone. “It’s evidence. Gary will need to dust it for prints and such.”
Right. She knew that. Just couldn’t think clearly at the moment.
Inside the house, Luc bolted the door and grabbed his cell phone. “Spence, watch out the window to make sure you don’t see anyone coming back.” He moved into the kitchen, his voice asking for Gary filtering through the space.
Felicia and CoCo led Monique to the new sofa. “It’ll be okay.”
She gulped in a deep breath, held it for long seconds, then released it all slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
And she was. But she was also furious.
She stood and joined Spence at the window. She hated hiding in her own house, looking out a draped window.
Who did this guy think he was? She wasn’t some mealy-mouthed, scared-of-her-own-shadow type of gal. She wasn’t about to let phone calls and a note scare her away from the new life she’d carefully started constructing.
After burning down her house, did this guy think slit tires and threats had any intimidation power?
“The dispatcher said Deputy Anderson is on his way into the station now. She said she’ll send him right over,” Luc announced as he closed his phone and returned to the living room.
“Good. I’m ready for this guy to get caught.” Outrage and a sense of helplessness over the situation flooded her veins. She stared out the window, the setting sun casting dancing prisms over the bayou.
So peaceful, yet so menacing at the same time.
SIXTEEN
Had the chair been delivered yet?
What Gary wouldn’t give to have seen the look of surprise on Monique’s face when the rocker she’d wanted and couldn’t get showed up. He’d had to pull a lot of strings to get the sales force at the furniture store to tell her they were out of stock and even unable to sell the display model. He hoped it had made her happy. She didn’t have nearly enough happiness in her life.
If she’d only return to God, contentment could be hers. He knew firsthand that just because you walked with Christ didn’t mean you had it easier. Not hardly. Truth be told, he figured it was harder because of the striving to do what’s right all the time. Probably because Christians tried to do it all on their own strength, instead of relying on God’s. But, as Gary reminded himself, this earth was not home for Christians. It was the promise of eternal life that brought such contentment in a Christian’s soul.
It wasn’t as if Monique didn’t believe in God—she’d said she was mad at Him. Maybe now was the time to witness to her more, to help her see she needed to talk to God and work out her feelings.
He silently prayed for just that as he dropped Bob off at the motel, then headed to the station. It’d been a long day, and the stress weighed down his every muscle. Maybe he’d even put off making out his report.
Missy wasn’t at her station as he made his way toward the office. He went to his office, slumped into the chair and ordered the background checks on Patterson and Haynie. Maybe they’d get lucky and one of them would have a rap sheet, although he doubted it about Patterson. Probably not on Haynie either, but he could still hope.
Carrying the paperwork to have Missy process first thing, he glanced through the reports Mike had filed for the past two weeks: drunk and disorderly, teenage DUI, domestic disturbance, violation of leash law, robbery—whoa, the homeowner who made the report was one Kevin Haynie. Gary pulled the report and hotfooted it back to Mike’s desk. The rookie deputy should still be in the office.
Sure enough, Mike sat in the metal rolling chair, closing down the computer. “Hey, how’s your day been?”
Gary waved the report. “Brief me on this, please.” He sat on the edge of the desk.
Mike took the papers and scanned them. “Yeah. Mr. Haynie called in a report that his shed was trashed. Heard some noise out there one night, but didn’t think it was anything more than a coon until he went to get a shovel out of there the next morning.”
Gary mentally backtracked. “He’s stating this theft occurred on, um…”
“Last Wednesday night. He called and reported it on Thursday morning.” Mike ran a thumb under his chin. “We’ve been backed up, so I only got around to filing the report today.”
“You went and interviewed him?”
Mike shot him a quizzical look. “Well, yeah. That’s policy, yes?”
“It’s just this man is someone I’m set to go talk to tomorrow about the arson case.” Gary proceeded to fill Mike in on the details of his day.
“Wow. This is really odd.” Mike glanced back over the report. “Reported missing along with a battery charger and voltage tester was a twenty-five-gallon container of biodiesel fuel.”
Something didn’t feel right.
“What was his attitude like when you talked to him? His body language?”
Mike ran a hand over his hair. “Nothing that triggered any questions in my mind, but then again, I only filed the report. He gave a pretty concise account.”
Something was still off about the situation. “I’ll see what I can figure out tomorrow morning when I visit him.” Gary lifted the report. “At least now I have an additional reason to talk to him.”
“Want me to go with you?”
“Nah. Bob Costigan, the arson investigator, will join me. I need you to hold down the fort again.”
“No problem.”
“Deputy Anderson,” Missy’s voice shrieked. “I didn’t know you’d come back in yet. I’ve been trying to reach you in the cruiser.”
“What is it, Missy?”
“Luc Trahan called. Said to tell you to get out to Monique Harris’s new place. Her tires have been slit and there’s a letter.”
How long ago had the call come in? Why hadn’t Monique called his cell?
“I’m on my way.”
“Want me to assist?” Mike stood, his hand on his belt rig.
Why not? If Gary didn’t make chief deputy, he at least wanted the man who got the promotion to know what he was doing. “Come on. You can follow me in your cruiser.”
“Missy, radio me if you need me.”
“Will do.” She popped her gum, which annoyed him all the more. One of these days…
Off daylight saving time, dusk settled over Lagniappe. The cool evening caused a low-lying fog to hover just over the road.
Not wanting to turn on the lights and siren in the event they would draw even more attention to Monique, Gary still raced through the town toward her home. She hadn’t bothered to call him. She’d had Luc call the station. What did that say about her belief in his investigative abilities?
He dialed Luc’s cell phone number and waited. As soon as Luc answered, he proceeded to get the information about what had transpired.
Two rights and one left turn later, his tires sang against Wyatt Lane. Mike’s low beams flashed in the rearview. Gary slowed and pulled into Monique’s driveway. He resisted the urge to slam his foot on the accelerator. Calm and cool, that’s what his po
sition dictated. But his heart wouldn’t stop racing until he saw Monique was okay with his own eyes.
He parked about ten feet behind her Expedition. Every light in the house blazed, spilling out into the night. Leaving his headlights on, he grabbed the crime scene kit from the trunk. Mike appeared at his side, slipping on latex gloves.
The job had to come first, despite the desire to run to the house and see Monique for himself. Gary opened the case, donned gloves and passed the digital camera to Mike.
The back tires of the SUV had been slit. Had to be with a knife. He pulled out a ruler and measured the slits, noting the measurements in his notebook. Mike clicked away with the camera, the flashes coming so rapidly, it nearly made Gary want to scream.
Finally, the front door opened and Monique stood bathed in the backlight from the foyer. His breath caught in his throat. As if time was moving frame by frame, he slowly straightened, his feet planted into the gravel.
She descended the steps with the Trahan group behind her, but Gary only had eyes for her. Her cheeks were tinged with pink. Her coppery hair flew around her head as the wind picked up. The closer she came, the quicker his heart thumped.
Oh, no. Heart racing at her mere presence. Dizzy when she smiled at him. Urge to protect her no matter what the cost. She’d moved well beyond a victim of a crime and crept closely around the edges of his heart.
Father God, help me. I think I’m falling for her, and I know I can’t. I shouldn’t. Please give me wisdom and guidance. I’m not strong enough to withstand this alone.
As she drew closer, he noticed something else about her…her eyes, which were shimmering almost an emerald color.
Anger. The woman was madder than a wet hen.
“Can you believe he had the nerve to do this?” She stood mere inches from him. Fury radiated from her like heat around a cochon de lait. “The first night at my house, he does this?”
He grabbed her flailing arm, pulling her toward him. She looked into his eyes, and he hoped reassurance—nothing more—shone in his expression. “We’re going to do everything we can to catch him. I promise you that.”
