by Jana DeLeon
Sabine laughed. “Okay, I would sorta get that except that it’s so obvious that Luc is over the top in love with you. I don’t think he’s going to forget a single square inch of you.” She reached across the table and placed her hand on Maryse’s. “I am so happy for you, Maryse. Seeing you and Luc together makes me believe there’s hope for me, too. If I make it that long, that is.”
Maryse squeezed Sabine’s hand. “Do not think that way. There is no way in hell I’m letting you leave me here alone with Helena. And besides, as my best friend, you owe it to me to wear some tacky pink taffeta dress for my wedding.”
“Pink?”
Maryse grinned. “Fuchsia. Glowing so bright you could see it from space. Maybe with a lime green bow.”
“Yuck!”
Maryse sobered. “Seriously, I don’t want to hear any talk like that, okay? You start the chemo soon and that will probably be the end of it. With any luck, I’ll be able to help you out on that part of things.”
“You’re right. I’m sure within no time at all I’ll be back to my exciting life.”
Maryse cocked her head to one side and stared at her friend. “You sound like that’s a bad thing. I thought you were happy with your life.”
Sabine sighed. “I am. I was. Oh, I don’t know. I guess my life seemed fine before I found out it might end prematurely. Then I guess I started thinking about it and well…there’s a whole lot I haven’t done.”
“Okay, like what?”
Sabine frowned, not exactly ready with an itemized list. “Oh, I don’t know—see a live play, scuba dive, leave this state, have an entire day at the spa…”
“Sounds easy enough. “
“You’re kidding me.”
“Not at all. Today, I want you to get a notebook and start jotting down all the things you want to do. Anything you can think of. Then we’ll start tackling them. I can’t guarantee we can do them all, depending on what you come up with, but I’m game to try.” Maryse cast her friend a nervous look. “Unless you’re still wanting to be abducted by aliens. That’s sorta not on my list of things to do ever.”
Sabine laughed. “I was ten years old when I said that. And believe me, Helena has been enough of a journey into the unexplained to last me a lifetime. I was actually thinking about giving up the shop and becoming a bank teller or something.”
“Helena tends to have that effect on people.”
“You have no idea,” Sabine muttered and lowered her eyes to the table.
“Oh, no. I know that look. I wore it too many times over the last month. What have you let Helena talk you into?”
“Well, she said it was just an errand in New Orleans, and technically all I did was drive…”
Maryse groaned. “What did she do?”
“She stole the police file on my parents’ wreck and a bunch of others from the station. The barcodes tripped the alarm, and half the cops in downtown came running out after her.”
“Oh, God. Why didn’t you call me for bail?”
“Oh, we didn’t get caught. Helena caused a runaway hotdog stand accident and used the diversion to hop in the car with the stolen files and at least five hotdogs. I’m never going to get that smell out of my car.”
“Helena is enjoying death way too much. It’s really not fair at all.” Maryse shook her head. “Okay, so I get the police file thing…in a Helena thinking sort of way, but what’s up with the hotdogs?”
“Apparently, Helena is hungry. Don’t even ask. I have no idea.”
Maryse raised her eyebrows and stared at Sabine for a couple of seconds. “Alrighty then. So what did you do with the files?”
“I made a copy of my parents’ file—wearing gloves, of course—then mailed them all back to the police. Then I called that detective Raissa found to let him know about the file.”
“Bet that went over well. How did you explain having a copy?”
“I just said a well-meaning friend thought she’d help me out. And since she’d already broken the law, I figured he might as well take a look at the spoils.” Sabine felt a blush creep up her face as she recalled her earlier conversation with Beau.
Maryse studied her for a moment. “So you never actually told me about this detective. What’s he like?”
Sabine felt her face heat up even more. “He’s nice. Seems very competent.”
“Uh huh.”
Sabine looked down at her coffee, concentrating on stirring the already mixed sugar. “He’s got experience in this sort of detective work.”
“Uh huh.”
“And he seems nice.”
“You already said that.”
Sabine sighed and looked up at her grinning friend. “So what do you want me to say—that he’s hot? Well, he is. The hottest guy I’ve ever seen in person, okay? Are you satisfied?”
“Not yet. But I’m getting there. And what do you propose to do with this hot detective?”
“I don’t propose to do anything with him, except give him information to help me. Jeez, just because I find some guy hot doesn’t mean I should jump on him like some floozy.”
Maryse laughed. “You are the furthest thing from a floozy that I could locate in Mudbug. You know, for all your fussing at me to get out of the bayou and into society, you’re not exactly the pinnacle of the social scene, either. When was the last time you got any?”
“Maryse! What a question.”
“That long, huh? Well, I can’t really bitch at you as I was on a two-year draught myself after Hank left, and Mudbug doesn’t exactly have the best to pick from. But you’ve had some dates off and on. Nothing came of those?”
“No. A couple were buttheads. A couple were nice, but there just wasn’t any spark.”
“I get you. And this Beau…there’s a spark there?”
“More like a volcano waiting to erupt.”
Maryse whistled. “I know that feeling. Do yourself a favor and don’t put it off. That eruption is something out of your wildest imagination.”
Sabine shook her head. “I can’t go there.”
“Why not? Why are you so afraid of letting go?”
“It’s not the eruption that scares me. It’s the cooling off. How can I start something with a man, knowing good and well I may not be here to finish it?” She brushed at her eyes with her fingers. “I heard from Wheeler just before lunch. Hank’s not a match.”
Maryse sobered. “I’m really sorry. I had hoped there was an easy answer to all this. And I understand your apprehension about moving forward when you don’t know if you’re going to hit the wall, truly I do. But you don’t know what the future holds…none of us do. Disease is not the only thing that can take us away from this world—you saw that with me over the last month. But putting your life on hold waiting for a death that might not come for another fifty years is like already dying.”
Sabine felt the tears begin to form in her eyes. “I hate it when you’re right.”
“So if this detective is interested, you’re not going to turn him down, right?”
Sabine shrugged. “I’ll add it to my list, but it’s not at the top.”
“Really? Because I was hoping to get at least one thing crossed off the list today. Please tell me the spa day is at the top of the list. I could sooooooo use a massage.”
“Not exactly.”
Maryse stared at Sabine, her hesitation clear as day. “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to regret this?”
Sabine gave Maryse an evil grin, unable to resist teasing her friend since she’d just shoved reality down Sabine’s throat. “I was thinking bungee jumping.”
Maryse shut her eyes and clenched her hands. “That made me dizzy just thinking about it. You know I’m afraid of heights.”
“And you know I’m afraid of relationships.”
Maryse put her head face down on the table and covered it with her arms. “What time are we going?”
“I think before supper would be best.”
“Yeah, I’d hate to waste a goo
d meal on plummeting out of control toward the ground wearing a rubber band on my ankles.” Maryse lifted her head and looked back at Sabine. “Fine. I’ll do it as long as you promise not to turn down anything the detective offers.”
“Oh, no. I’m not locking into that agreement. What if he sells insurance on the side, or even worse…Tupperware?”
Maryse laughed. “Okay, but if he’s peddling anything but expensive plastic or disability insurance, it’s a go.” She studied Sabine for a moment. “You know, I’ve never seen you this riled up over a guy. Not since Johnny Arceneaux put that frog in your lunchbox in first grade.”
Sabine smiled. “Well, you know how much I love frogs.” The door to the café opened and Sabine glanced over, then froze as she saw who was standing there.
“What’s wrong?” Maryse asked. “It’s not Helena, is it?”
“No,” Sabine whispered. “He’s early.”
“Who’s early?”
“The detective. I was supposed to meet him here in a half hour. He’s early.”
“Great! Now I can see what all the fuss is about.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Maryse grinned and turned all the way around in her seat. She held for a couple of seconds, then spun back around to face Sabine, her eyes wide. “Holy shit! You are in big trouble.”
The instant he walked into the restaurant, Beau zoned in on Sabine like he had preset radar. She was sitting in a corner booth with another woman, who had turned around when he walked in and given him a comprehensive up and down before turning back to Sabine. He briefly wondered if he’d passed the friend’s test, then got agitated at himself for caring…or wondering…or whatever he was doing.
No strings, Villeneuve.
His entire adult existence centered on keeping things simple, uncomplicated. He’d learned that one the hard way. He carried his own baggage, and he wasn’t interested in carrying anyone else’s. It had always been his experience that women were the most complicated people on earth. And their baggage usually came in matched sets. Hell, if the line he had on locating Sabine’s family turned out to be accurate, she would soon be faced with more baggage than a freight train.
Unless you can talk her out of wanting to know.
Sabine waved at him and he smiled. Quickly catching himself, he put on his game face and crossed the restaurant, resolved to talk Sabine out of this quest of hers. It couldn’t possibly bring her anything but misery. And if there was any way at all, he intended to spare her the disappointment he’d suffered.
As he stepped up to the table, the other woman sitting with Sabine rose and extended her hand. “I’m Maryse Robicheaux, Sabine’s best friend. It’s nice to meet you.” She looked over at Sabine and grinned. “Sabine has been telling me everything about you.”
A light blush crept up Sabine’s face and she glared at Maryse. Beau shook Maryse’s hand. “Beau Villeneuve.”
“Well, this has been fun,” Maryse said, “but I have to run.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” Sabine argued. “You said you had another thirty minutes.”
Maryse smiled. “But that was before you made plans for us tonight. Now, I need to see my attorney and remove you from my will.” She winked at Beau and hurried out of the restaurant.
Beau slid into the booth across from Sabine, wondering how in the world she made jeans and a plain blue polo shirt look so elegant. Maybe it was her hair, twisted in a complicated knot, with shiny black locks framing her face. Or maybe it was the silver earrings shaped like a teardrop.
Maybe you should get your head out of the clouds and focus on business.
“Should I even ask what your plans are for tonight?” Beau asked.
“No. I was trying to play a joke on Maryse, but apparently it backfired. She always gets the last word. I don’t know why I bother.”
“I like her,” Beau said, trying to block out the sweet smell of Sabine’s perfume. “She doesn’t dance around things, does she?”
“No. Finesse was never Maryse’s strong point. I think she sees it as a waste of good creative energy and time.”
Beau nodded. “She’s probably right.”
“Really? Then maybe you should try taking her shopping with you. We’ve been officially banned from two boutiques and a pet store.”
“A pet store?”
Sabine waved a hand in dismissal, at least twenty bracelets jangling on her arm. “It’s a long story and doesn’t end so well for the turtle.” She pulled a manila folder from a bright pink shoulder bag and slid it across the table. “This is the file I mentioned when I called.”
“The file your friend ‘appropriated’?” Beau scanned the police records inside.
Sabine sighed. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
“This friend wouldn’t have been Maryse, would it?”
“Oh, God no! Maryse can be painfully direct and sarcastically entertaining but would never break the law. Well, almost never…okay, definitely not this time.”
Beau smiled. “Convinced yourself yet?”
“Not completely. Was it that obvious?”
“Well, let’s just say I didn’t have to be psychic to get it.”
Sabine laughed. “Good. Raissa and I already have the spirit world covered. It’s the real world I can’t seem to make any headway in.”
Beau sobered. “That’s another thing I’d like to talk to you about. I’ve got a lead on your family.”
Sabine’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding. So soon? I can’t believe it!”
“Don’t get excited just yet. It might turn out to be nothing.”
“Still, a lead in a matter of days when I’ve come up with nothing for over twenty years is definitely something.”
It’s now or never, Villeneuve. Beau took a breath and pushed forward. “I guess what I wanted to say is, before I get too far, I just want to make sure you really want this.”
Sabine stared at him. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Lots of reasons, and probably things you never thought of.”
“Like?”
“Well, what happens if your family doesn’t turn out to be the kind of people you hoped they would be?”
“You mean they might be conservatives?”
Beau smiled. “That’s possible, of course, but what I had in mind was something a little worse.”
“Fundamentalists? Yikes.” Sabine’s expression grew serious. “I understand what you’re insinuating. My family could turn out to be people who don’t share the same value system—and while I know on the exterior I may look a little questionable, I assure you I’m really a law-abiding bore.”
Beau nodded. “And your family could be the kind of people that HBO makes movies of the week about.”
“Like the weirdo that tried to break into my building in broad daylight…and with three—two—people right upstairs?”
Beau’s senses went immediately on high alert. “Someone tried to break into your building? When?”
“Yesterday midmorning.” Sabine gave him a rundown of the attempted break-in.
“Did you get a good look at him?”
Sabine shook her head and described the intruder’s outfit. “The Mudbug police dusted for prints, but they only found mine and Maryse’s.”
“What did the police say? Has there been a problem with random break-ins lately?”
“I’ve never had a problem, and the only other breakin the police know about was at the hospital last week. The whole thing is very weird.”
“Do you keep much cash around?”
“No way! I take everything but a hundred dollars of change for the register to the bank every day right before closing. Everyone in town knows that, and even someone who didn’t only had to watch me for a couple of days to figure it out.”
“Could be junkies. They’re not always smart with their targets. And that would explain the break-in at the hospital, too,” Beau said, but his mind was whirling with possibilities. He didn’t believe in coincidences—especially not this
kind. What if something Sabine had done had made someone nervous? It could be her search for her family or something else entirely, but either way, Beau wasn’t about to dismiss the timing of the attempted break-in. It might turn out to be nothing, but it would be foolish to ignore. “This is exactly the sort of thing I was worried about. And things could get far worse the closer we get to the truth. What if these people you’re looking for simply don’t want to be found?”
“You’re thinking what I don’t know can’t hurt me.”
“Exactly.”
Sabine studied him for several seconds, then sighed. “I understand what you’re saying, and I appreciate that you’re trying to protect me from what might be an ugly situation. The fact that you’re having this conversation with me after informing me you have a lead tells me you’re not happy with the direction the lead is taking you.”
“No. I’m not.”
“I wish I could tell you I didn’t care and just let the whole thing drop, but that’s just not possible. I know you’re trying to protect me and that’s very sweet, but the reality is, not finding my family could be far more detrimental to me than anything you come up with.” She reached across the table and placed her hand on his. “Thank you for caring. Most people wouldn’t even have given it a second thought.”
The skin on Beau’s hand tingled under Sabine’s gentle touch, and he fought the urge to pull his hand out from under hers before he did or said something he’d regret. “I’ve had nothing but second thoughts since the moment I met you,” Beau muttered, then sucked in a breath. “Oh hell, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
Sabine stared at him, her eyes wide. “I’ve thought of you, too.”
Beau felt a queasiness in his stomach. Back out while there’s still room. “So what are we going to do about it?” Shit.
The color rushed from Sabine’s face. She pulled her hand away from Beau’s and jumped up from the booth. “We’re going to pretend this conversation never happened. Thank you for the update, Mr. Villeneuve. I hope the file helps.” She spun around and hurried out of the café without ever looking back.
