The Lost Girls of Johnson's Bayou

by Jana DeLeon

  Ginny nodded and leaned back on the couch, closing her eyes. She felt the whiskey begin to warm in her belly and move up her body. Her muscles began to relax and her heartbeat slowed to an almost normal pace. She opened her eyes and found Paul anxiously watching her.

  “I’m sorry I worried you,” she said.

  “Don’t you dare apologize. Tonight scared me, and I’ve got eight years of being a cop and two of being a private investigator behind me.”

  “What are we going to do? This is my home. I don’t know anything else but I don’t feel safe here anymore.”

  “Who else has a key to your apartment?”

  “Only Mom.”

  “No landlord?”

  “No. Mom bought the building several years back from some ritzy attorney in New Orleans. I think he owned several buildings here.”

  “Okay, but if the shooter didn’t force entry in here to read your journal, someone else besides Madelaine must have a key. Did you keep a spare in the café?”

  “No. Only two keys came with the lock. I took one and gave Mom the other.”

  “Who installed the lock?”

  Ginny sucked in a breath. “Saul Pritchard. You asked me about him earlier. Do you think he could be behind this? Was there some way he could have duplicated the key?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to have my partner do some checking on Mr. Pritchard. See what he can dig up.” Paul rose from the couch. “But for now, I think you ought to take a hot shower, see to those scratches and try to get some sleep.”

  “Yeah, sure. Like I’m going to sleep knowing someone has a key to my apartment.”

  “The inside dead bolt is locked, and I’m not moving off that couch until morning.”

  Ginny stared. “Oh, no. I can’t let you stay.”

  “You don’t have a choice. I’m not leaving. I know you were already headed down this line of searching, but I still feel responsible for upping the stakes. I’m not leaving you unprotected until we find out what’s going on.”

  Ginny stiffened. “I appreciate your sense of responsibility, but I am not helpless. This is a small town. I can hardly have some man I’ve just met staying with me. Remember, I have to live here long after you’re gone.”

  “I’m not trying to get you cast with a scarlet letter. I’ll sneak out in the morning before anyone can see.”

  “So you’ll be leaving before 5:00 a.m., then?”

  Paul blanched. “I thought the café didn’t open until six?”

  “It doesn’t, but my mom gets here early to start baking. You didn’t think those cinnamon rolls came out of a can, did you?”

  Paul sighed. “I guess not. I’ll be out of here at four-thirty. Just to be safe. But I’m going to park my truck somewhere that I can still see the café.”

  Ginny jumped up. “The book! I left the book in the truck.”

  “What book?”

  “I found it at the school. I was on my way to show you when the shooting started. It’s a children’s book and it has the circle design penciled on a page inside. We have to go get the book.”

  “No. We have to stay inside where it’s safe. The most logical place to look for us is here. No one is walking outside and giving him an easy shot.”

  “But what if he steals it?”

  “If you say it was the same design, I believe you.”

  “So that means your sister was there, right? That I got the design from her at the school?”

  Paul frowned. “I wish it were that simple.”

  “But what else could it possibly be?”

  “Maybe she was at the school, or maybe you met her somewhere else before the LeBlanc School and you’re the one who drew it in the book. We don’t know how you got here, so we don’t know where you were before, and since you can’t remember what happened at the school…”

  Ginny’s excitement over the find deflated. “Oh. I guess you’re right.”

  “Don’t be disappointed,” Paul said, cluing in to her mood. “It proves you were there, at least, which is more than we could be certain of before tonight. I’ll check the book tomorrow and see if I can lift prints off the inside page.”

  “But my prints are on it, now.”

  “Your fingerprints will be the same, but bigger as an adult. An expert can easily differentiate the two.”

  “That’s assuming it’s still in the truck in the morning. So I guess the truck is yours? When we were racing away from that cabin, I thought for a minute you’d stolen someone’s truck, but then I remembered you knew where the key was. Why was it parked at that cabin?”

  “It’s my truck. The hotel was full because of the festival. I thought I’d have to drive back and forth from New Orleans, but my partner knew a guy who owned that fishing cabin, so I stayed there.”

  “So you walked into town to meet me for dinner?” Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. “You were expecting trouble. That’s why you left your truck there.”

  “I was preparing for trouble, not expecting. Preparing is part of my job.”

  Ginny felt the anger that had started to develop dissipate at his perfectly reasonable explanation, but just a bit of annoyance remained. Paul seemed to be one step ahead of her on everything, and it made her uncomfortable. Of course, he was also one step ahead of the shooter, and she couldn’t exactly argue the value of that.

  “If we’re going to work together on this,” she said, “you’re going to have to tell me everything. Every plan, every preparation. I don’t want to feel like you’re leaving things out or that I can’t trust you.”

  Paul nodded. “I’ll tell you everything I know. Unfortunately, right now you’re completely up to speed.”

  By the frustration in his expression, Ginny knew he was telling her the truth, and her heart tugged a little for the man who’d invested so much into looking for the sister he’d lost long ago. “There’s extra blankets and a pillow in the bedroom closet. Help yourself to those and anything in the kitchen.”

  She headed to the shower before she could draw out the conversation any longer. She had too many unanswered questions, too many emotions coursing through her, and Paul Stanton sleeping on her couch was only adding to the mix.

  She needed to put some distance between them, even if it was only ten feet and a thin interior door.

  PAUL WAITED UNTIL HE heard the shower running to pull out his cell phone and call his partner, Mike. It was close to midnight, but Paul wasn’t surprised in the least when Mike picked up on the first ring. His partner had vampire tendencies and usually handled the late-night stakeouts.

  “Did she remember anything?” Mike asked as soon as he answered.

  “No, but she didn’t get much of an opportunity to before someone started shooting at her.”

  “Seriously? Man, that is bad. Real bad. Are you guys okay?”

  “Yeah. We both got some scratches running through the swamp, and she was pretty shaken by the time we got back to her apartment, but no serious injuries.”

  “Not the physical kind, anyway.”

  Paul ran one hand through his hair. “Yeah. I didn’t exactly have scaring her half to death on my list of things to do.” Paul cursed. “I hate this! She’s agreed to help me against her better judgment, and look what happens the first time out.”

  Mike was silent for a couple of seconds. “Doesn’t matter, really. I know the shooter didn’t follow you. You’re too careful. So that means he was waiting for you, which means he was already watching her.”

  “I know. I came around to that when I was barreling through a swamp as fast as I could run and praying I didn’t trip over an alligator. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “It could have been worse. She was already going down that path when you met her. If you hadn’t been there tonight, how much of a chance would she have had?”

  Paul walked the couple of steps into the kitchen and poured himself a shot of whiskey. “Not much, and before you ask, she knows all of this and agrees. But I still don’
t have to like it.”

  “Of course you don’t have to like it. I don’t like it, either, but what options do we have now? I’m assuming she won’t leave.”

  “No, and I don’t think it would do any good. I’ll never figure all this out without her, and she can’t be safe here until I figure it all out.”

  “Sounds like a mess. I know you didn’t call for reassurance, so what do you have for me?”

  “A couple of people I want you to check up on. The first is Saul Pritchard. He’s in his fifties and worked as a handyman at the school. The second is Thomas Blackwell. He’s the sheriff.”

  “You think the sheriff was involved?”

  “Not at this point, but he was the sheriff when the school burned, and he’s still sheriff now. I want to know if he has any skeletons that someone could use against him. Last one is Joe Daigle, the mayor.”

  “I’ll bite—why the mayor?”

  “Because he’s nosy and interrupted my dinner, and neither his kids nor his wife look like they like him very much.”

  Mike laughed. “Good enough reason for me. That it?”

  “Yeah. Call me as soon as you have something.”

  “Will do, and Paul…be careful.”

  Paul laid his cell phone on the kitchen counter and poured himself another shot of whiskey. Be careful. That advice was a little late. He’d already endangered himself and his best lead and now he was sharing an apartment with a woman, something he’d sworn he’d never do again after his breakup with the very beautiful and very vengeful Marie.

  He tried to tell himself that this was different. That it was business, but he couldn’t deny his attraction to Ginny. She was a beautiful woman on the inside and the outside, and in his experience that was rare. She had strength and pride, but no ego. And her vulnerability just drew him to her more.

  She doesn’t need you to rescue her.

  Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She did need his help with her past, not just her future. And he was going to do everything possible to guarantee she had a good one.

  Chapter Eight

  Ginny stood next to the couch, the light from the bedroom casting a dim glow over the living room. It was twenty till five and she needed to wake Paul up and get him out of the café before Madelaine arrived. Her mother wanted her to find a man, but if she thought Ginny had brought one home on the first date, she’d have a coronary.

  But he looked so handsome sleeping. So serene. In the short time she’d known him, he’d mostly looked angry or worried. Of course, even then, she’d have had to be blind not to see how attractive he was, but when people were shooting at you, you usually didn’t stop to compliment a man on how good he looked in jeans.

  She shook her head to clear her mind of the instant flash of Paul last night when she’d met him in front of the café for dinner. The last thing she needed was to think about things she couldn’t have—things that would complicate an already complicated situation beyond her ability to control it. She was already in neck deep with him. She couldn’t afford to drown.

  Reaching over, she gently shook his shoulder. “Paul,” she called. “Paul, it’s time to get up.”

  He bolted straight up and grabbed her by the wrist. She gasped at both his speed and the strength of his grip. It took only a second for him to focus and let her go.

  “I am so sorry,” he said, clearly embarrassed. “You startled me, but I’m not usually this on edge.”

  “You came by it honest. Being on edge keeps you alert. I need you alert.”

  His relief was apparent, and Ginny realized it wasn’t just relief over grabbing her.

  “You’re right,” he said and rose from the couch and started to fold the blanket.

  “Don’t worry about the bedding,” Ginny said and glanced at the clock.

  Paul grinned. “Just get out before Madelaine thinks you’re a sinful hussy?”

  Ginny smiled. “Something like that.”

  Paul picked up his keys and cell phone from the coffee table and headed to the front door. He paused on the threshold and turned back to face her. “I’m not going to let him hurt you.” Then he turned and hurried down the stairs.

  The determination and sincerity in his expression was so clear that it gave her pause for a moment, then she followed him a couple of seconds later to lock the café door behind him. Peering out the back window of the café kitchen, she watched as he hurried down the alley and around the corner of the café.

  “Damn,” she said as she glanced at her watch then hurried up the stairs to finish getting ready. It was only minutes before Madelaine showed up and she didn’t want to be late two days in a row, or her mother would start watching her more closely, too. The last thing she needed was to draw her mother into this mess.

  Ginny drew up short at her apartment door and sucked in a breath. Was Madelaine in danger? She hadn’t even thought about how this situation might affect her mother. Surely, if Paul thought there was a problem, he would have said so. Unless, of course, he was so distracted by everything else that he hadn’t gotten around to that avenue of thought.

  Ginny strode into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. At first opportunity, she’d ask Paul if he thought Madelaine was in any danger from their investigation. In the meantime, she’d pray his answer was no.

  She pulled her hair back in a ponytail and slipped on jeans, a café T-shirt and tennis shoes, then hurried downstairs. Madelaine was just coming through the front door as Ginny stepped into the kitchen.

  Madelaine beamed as soon as she saw Ginny and hustled over to the desk to dump her purse on it. “I’m going to put on coffee, and then you’re going to tell me all about your date last night.”

  “Mom, please. There’s really nothing to talk about.”

  Madelaine waved a hand in dismissal. “Nonsense. A handsome young man riding into town and sweeping my daughter off to dinner is the most exciting thing that’s happened in years.”

  “Hmm,” Ginny said and started peeling potatoes for hash browns. If Madelaine only knew about the after-dinner happenings, she’d be far less inclined to think a tame dinner was exciting. But if Ginny had any control at all, she was going to make sure that her mother didn’t find out a thing until it was all over.

  Madelaine filled the last coffeepot and washed her hands before reaching for the flour to start on the cinnamon rolls. “So, are you going to leave me in suspense? Tell me how the dinner was.”

  “It was nice.”

  Madelaine sighed. “Fine. I guess I’m going to have to pick it out of you piece by piece. Let’s start with work. What does he do for a living?”

  Shoot.

  Ginny froze. Even though he hadn’t come right out and said it, she was certain Paul didn’t want anyone to know he was a detective. She searched her mind to come up with something that would satisfy Madelaine.

  “He has his own business with a partner—consulting of some sort.”

  Madelaine nodded. “The smart ones always go out on their own. That’s good. I don’t want you hooked up with someone stupid.”

  “Mom! I’m hardly ‘hooked up’ with him. It was just dinner. In a couple of days, he’ll be back in New Orleans and I’ll probably never hear from him again.” Ginny stared down at the counter and frowned as she delivered that last sentence. It was undoubtedly true, but she was surprised at the momentary flash of disappointment she’d felt when she’d said it.

  “Well, you never know. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a nice diversion every now and then. What did you two talk about?”

  “Oh, about the festival, fishing…your basic stuff.” She looked over at Madelaine and grinned. “Mayor Daigle stopped at the table to introduce himself.”

  Madelaine snorted. “That old busybody. Thinks he needs to know everything about everybody.”

  Ginny stopped peeling for a couple of seconds, her mother’s words rolling around in her mind. “Mom…did you ever, I mean, all those years ago…did you ever try to find out where I
came from?”

  Madelaine looked up from her dough, a surprised look on her face. Ginny could hardly blame her. In all her sixteen years with Madelaine, she couldn’t remember even once asking her mother about her past.

  “What brought that question on?”

  Ginny shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “I don’t know. I guess when we were talking about family last night, I started thinking that I might have more out there, but there’s no way to know.”

  Madelaine sighed. “You may at that, but if you do, none of them knew about you well enough to come looking for you. The police searched all those databases, but you didn’t match a description anywhere. They put your information in the system and ran your picture on the news. Not much else they could do.”

  Ginny nodded. “But no one had seen me before that day, right? I mean, the students from the LeBlanc School used to come into town, but I wasn’t one of them?”

  “That day you walked out of the swamp is the first day I ever laid eyes on you. Of that, I’m certain.” Madelaine looked at her, the concern evident on her face. “Are you sure you’re all right? You’ve never asked about this.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m happy to tell you anything that I know. You don’t feel like I’ve been hiding things from you, do you?”

  “Oh, no! That’s not it at all. And please don’t worry about me. I swear, I rarely even think about the past.”

  “Is it that Paul? Has he said something to upset you?”

  “No. I mean, not directly.” Ginny bit her bottom lip. This was all going horribly wrong and if she didn’t fix it soon, Madelaine was going to start watching her like a hawk. “Paul’s parents died in an accident when he was a kid. He got split from his sister, Kathy, in the foster care system, and he never saw her again. He looked so sad when he told me about her. I guess it just got me to thinking.”

  “That poor boy,” Madelaine said, her expression full of sympathy. “He had his entire world yanked out from under him. No wonder you were bothered.”

  “Please don’t tell him I said anything. I get the impression he doesn’t talk about it much, and I don’t want him to think I betrayed a confidence.”