by Jana DeLeon
“Damn,” Luc muttered. “Well, what do you know?”
“She’s mixing up different plants, it looks like. Each combination is clearly identified by species and anything other than plants used to make the sample. They’re all labeled with trial numbers, the way a big lab would do things.”
“Okay, so she’s trying to create something. Do we have any idea what?”
“Hell, it could be anything…weight-loss pills, hair products, a cure for insomnia…there’s just no way of knowing unless we can see what she’s testing this stuff on. You said there’s no animals or anything like that in her lab, right? No refrigerators with little dishes with some of the mixture in it?”
Luc cast his mind back to his lab tour. “No, nothing like that. It’s a tiny room. All that’s there really is a couple of tables with the test tubes, burners, that sort of thing. I didn’t see any evidence of testing on anything.”
“Well, she’s testing somewhere. All that effort is not for nothing. Have you gotten the trace on her phones yet? Maybe that will give you an idea where to head next, although I got to tell you, Luc, it doesn’t look like this has anything to do with our case, and if the boss-man finds out, he’s probably going to pull the plug on you.”
“There’s something going on with her,” Luc argued. “Someone intentionally cut the brake lines on her truck.”
“Unless it has something to do with our case, it’s not your problem. Don’t get involved, LeJeune. It always turns out bad.”
Luc flipped his phone shut without answering. Don’t get involved. Like it was that easy. He didn’t understand his attraction to Maryse at all. Sure he’d dated plenty of women, but never for any reason other than a good time for a short time. Maryse pulled at him in a different way, and that made him very uncomfortable.
Usually women just hit him below the belt, and that was an easy fix, but Maryse challenged him on an intellectual level, and not just with his investigation. She was a complex woman, something he usually avoided like the plague. But for the first time in his life, he found himself wanting to figure her out rather than run for the hills.
No matter his discomfort, he wasn’t about to leave her unprotected if someone was trying to hurt her. She may not be part of his case, but that didn’t mean she shouldn’t have some help.
He finished filling the coffeepot with water and turned it on. Glancing at his watch, he realized Maryse should be at the office any minute, assuming she wasn’t off on one of her many mysterious adventures. He turned on the computer and bypassed Maryse’s sign-on screen using a hacker tip he’d picked up from Brian the day before. As soon as the operating system loaded, he double-clicked the internet icon and logged into his e-mail. Surely the phone trace was back by now—at least the last couple of days’ worth.
He scanned the e-mail files, sorting through the usual spam that not even the government could manage to screen…improve sexual performance, new stock alert, penis enlargement…ah ha, phone tap results. He glanced out the window as he printed the file, happy to see the road was still clear of Maryse’s rental.
This is it? One page for two phones? No matter how busy Maryse appeared, apparently it didn’t involve much in the way of phone calling. He scanned the list, looking for something that stood out—the state office, the attorney in New Orleans, her friend in Mudbug, her insurance company—and, wait a minute, a laboratory at a university in New Orleans.
Jackpot.
That lab must be running the tests on whatever it was Maryse was cooking up. Another glance out the window let him know he was still in the clear, so he opened his cell and punched in Brian’s number. “Brian, it’s LeJeune. I need you to hack something for me.”
“Okay,” Brian said, “what’s the case file number?”
Luc hesitated. “This one is off the record. At least for the time being.”
“Oh, man, not your botanist in distress again? Do you know how much hell I caught over that stripper in New Orleans?”
“She wasn’t a stripper, she was a performer, and you helped get her daughter back from the molester ex-husband who’d made off with the kid. Surely that was worth an ass-chewing.”
“I guess. But one of these days, LeJeune, you might want to think about settling down with one woman instead of rescuing every one you come in contact with. And if you want my help with your Sir Lancelot routine, you’re going to have to come up with something besides doing a good deed to convince me to risk that ass-chewing again. After all, I’m not privy to the same perks you’re getting out of these deals.”
Luc sighed, not about to admit that he was yet to receive a single perk from Maryse Robicheaux. In fact, it was exactly the opposite. The woman seemed to frustrate him on all levels. Something he wasn’t exactly used to. “How about two tickets to this week’s game?”
“How are the seats?”
“The best—they’re mine.”
“Throw in the use of your Corvette for the night and it’s a deal.”
“Absolutely not.” Even Luc didn’t remove his black, 1963 split-window dream machine from the garage unless it was a special occasion. “You know I only drive the Corvette when it’s important.”
“And you haven’t seen the woman I plan on asking to the game.”
Luc clenched his jaw. “Fine, but if you get so much as a scratch on her, I’ll kill you, and you know I know how.”
“Sounds reasonable. What do you need?”
“I need you to get some information for me. There’s a lab at Tulane University in New Orleans where Maryse is sending her stuff for testing. I need to know what she’s testing and why.”
“Jesus, LeJeune! Do you really think the university is just going to hand over that kind of information just because I ask nicely? Her tests are protected information, especially if she’s working on something she can patent.”
“So get a warrant.”
“Based on what, exactly? Hell, you won’t even tell me why you want the information or give me a case number to support it. How am I supposed to convince a judge to go along with this plan of yours?”
Luc frowned. “Don’t you have a friend, a contact, someone who could get you a line on the information?”
Brian sighed. “I’ve got a buddy who works in the science department. He might be willing to ask around. But he’s going to need some time to do it with any finesse or it will look suspicious. Then someone might tip off your botanist.”
“Yeah, okay. If that’s the best we can do.”
“And I mean real time, LeJeune, not an hour or two. This could take days, maybe even a week.”
Luc looked out the window as the Maryse’s boat raced up to the dock. He reached over to shut down the computer. “Just do your best. Make it as fast as you can, but tell your friend not to draw any attention to himself. I can’t afford exposure.”
“No problem. I’ll call when I’ve got something.”
Luc flipped his phone shut and watched as Maryse docked. Even from a distance, Luc could see her mouth set in a straight line, her upper body tensed. What now?
She entered the office without even a glance over, then poured a cup of coffee and stood staring at the wall while she drank. Luc stared at her back, then dropped his gaze to her behind, nicely tucked in a pair of old, tight-fitting jeans. “Do I dare even ask?”
“What?” Maryse spun around and looked at him as if realizing for the first time that he was in the room. “Oh, sorry. Good morning.”
Luc raised his eyebrows and stared. Okay, it was even worse than he thought. She was being polite. “Good morning. Is everything all right with you? You seem a little…distracted.”
“I’m just a little pissed and more than a little confused.” She refilled her coffee, then dropped into her office chair with a sigh. “My life used to be so simple, you know? I did my job, had my side interests, one friend, one surrogate mother…no drama, no issues.”
“Except for Hank,” Luc pointed out.
Maryse nodded. “That’
s a given.”
“And now you have other issues?”
“Jeez, LeJeune, haven’t you been paying attention the last couple of days? My mother-in-law is dead, and Hank has yet to show up so I can serve him. The worse part is that’s the least of my worries at the moment.”
Intrigued, Luc leaned forward in his chair. “So what’s the worst?”
“The worst is wondering what the hell Helena Henry has been up to all these years. I mean, the woman was the Antichrist of Mudbug. Even you had heard of her, and then she goes and leaves me the game preserve.”
“Okay. But that’s a good thing, right? I mean, if she’d have left it to Hank, he would have sold it off right away.”
“Leased it,” Maryse corrected. “The trust prevents an outright sale, but that’s not the point.” She picked up a pencil from the desk and started tapping it on the desktop.
Luc leaned back in his chair, giving her his full attention. “What else is there?”
Maryse looked over at him, her face full of uncertainty. “When Hank ran off, he owed money to a lot of the wrong kind of people. I had to borrow from Helena to pay them off.” Then she told him about the payments she’d been making to Helena that had most likely been used to pay down her loans.
Luc sat back in his chair and stared at Maryse, now crystal clear on her confusion. “What the hell?”
Maryse shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I have no frig-gin’ idea. And it just makes me wonder how much manipulation has gone on behind my back. I get the feeling I was used, but I can’t put my finger on how or for what purpose. There is no way Helena Henry paid that money on my loans to be nice. Helena doesn’t know nice. Without an ulterior motive, she had no reason to get up in the morning.”
“I agree. It sounds really strange, and given the source, I guess it would make me sort of nervous, too.” He shook his head. “Too bad you didn’t find out about the payments before the old bat died. You could have asked her yourself.”
Maryse frowned and stared down at the floor. “Yeah, that is a shame.”
Luc studied her for a moment. It was obvious from the way her eyes dropped to the floor that she was hiding something. But what? Given the weird situation she was in, it could be anything. In fact, Luc was surprised she’d even told him as much as she had. Obviously Maryse was in some mild level of shock if she was carrying on a personal conversation with him. Especially after that stunt he’d pulled yesterday, kissing her over the copy machine.
“I wish I had some advice,” Luc finally said, “but I have to admit, I’m as stumped as you are. The whole thing is just too bizarre.”
“Well, I’m not going to figure it out sitting around here.” She gave Luc a small smile as she rose from her seat. “Thanks for listening. I know I haven’t been the most pleasant person to be around, but I swear, I’m not usually this bad.”
Luc shrugged. “You’ve got a lot going on, and I’m not the easiest person to be around, either.”
Maryse laughed. “Yeah, you got that right. Anyway, I’ve got to get some work done today, whether my mind’s in it or not.” She pulled open a drawer in her desk and swore. “Crap, the map I need is at my cabin. I completely forgot I brought it home last week.”
She pulled her sunglasses from her pocket. “Guess I’ll be taking a detour before I work, huh? I’ll see you later, Le-Jeune.” She gave him a backwards wave and walked out of the office and down to the dock.
Luc watched as she threw the tie line into her boat and stepped down inside, pushing the boat from the dock as she went. What the hell was going on? Maryse was right—according to everything he’d ever heard, Helena Henry didn’t do nice. And why charge her that outrageous interest, then pay her debts? Luc had no idea what Helena had been up to, but he had a feeling it wasn’t much good. And he wondered just how much of a mess Helena’s shenanigans had left Maryse in.
Something didn’t feel right. And although he didn’t like to talk about his feelings much, they were something Luc didn’t ignore. He was much more intuitive than most—it’s what made him so good at his job—and right now his senses were on high alert. Maryse Robicheaux was smack in the middle of something bad…he was certain.
And he was even more certain that she had no clue what it was.
He pulled his boat keys from his pocket and headed out of the office. If anything happened to Maryse, he’d feel guilty the rest of his life. She might not like him lurking around, but he saw no other way to figure out what was going on and offer her some protection. He’d just have to figure out a way to either watch her without being seen or come up with a reason for hanging around.
He had a five-minute boat ride to figure it all out.
Chapter Ten
All Maryse wanted to do was get the map and get into the bayou. With any luck, she’d be able to get some work done for the state and locate the plant she needed for the trials. But when she pulled her boat up to her cabin dock, Helena Henry was there, looking more upset than Maryse have ever thought possible.
“You can’t go in there,” Helena said, her face tense.
“Try to stop me. You still have some things to answer for, Helena, and don’t think I forgot them just because you pulled a disappearing act this morning.” Maryse stepped onto the dock and strode toward her cabin.
“No! Wait!” Helena hurried after her. “I think there’s something wrong with your cabin.”
Maryse stopped short. “What do you mean, something’s wrong?”
“Your truck wreck got me to thinking. What if it wasn’t an accident at all? So I’ve been watching your place as much as possible, figuring if the truck didn’t work, then they might do something here. I made a quick trip to my house this morning after your phone call and hightailed it back here as soon as possible, but I was too late. I saw a man leaving as I walked across from the dock. He was carrying a duffle bag and got in a boat that was parked in that cove behind the cabin. Then he tore out of here something fierce.”
“It was probably just kids. You know how teenagers traipse around the bayou.”
Helena shook her head. “It wasn’t a kid. This guy moved like an adult, his frame was mature—medium height and a ball cap.”
Maryse stared at her. “Then who was it? C’mon, Helena, you know everyone in this town, same as me.”
Helena shook her head again, the panic starting to show on her face. “I didn’t see his face. And I couldn’t catch up to the boat in time to read a license tag or anything. But he was up to no good. I know it. Why else would he dock in that cove and wade through the marsh to get up here when there’s a perfectly good pier out front?”
Maryse glanced over at her cabin and bit her lower lip. Unfortunately, Helena was right—it didn’t sound good. Suddenly, entering her cabin for a map didn’t appear as easy as she’d originally thought. She looked once more at the cabin, then back at Helena. “So why don’t you pop through a wall and take a look?”
Helena gave her a withering stare. “Don’t you think I’ve already done that? I still can’t move things. If he hid something in a cabinet or a drawer, I’d never see it. Not like I know what I’m looking for in the first place.”
A sudden thought struck Maryse and she felt a chill rush over her. “Jasper was in the cabin this morning.”
“Who the hell’s Jasper?”
“My cat. I can’t let anything happen to him.”
Helena stared at her. “You mean that ragtag old tomcat missing an ear? That’s what you’re worried about?”
“I rescued that ragtag old tomcat from a fight with an alligator, and yes, I’m worried about him. He’s family, whether you get that or not.”
Helena shrugged. “You have strange ideas about family, Maryse, but it doesn’t matter either way. The cat took off out the kitchen window as soon as I walked into the cabin.” She frowned and pursed her lips. “Maybe it’s true what they say about cats seeing ghosts. He shot out of the room the first time I visited you, too.”
As interestin
g as Helena’s observation may have been some other time, Maryse just couldn’t care about it at the moment. “You’re sure he’s not in there?”
“Positive,” Helena said, and nodded. “He was halfway across the marsh when I looked out the window, but I’ll pop in and take another look.” She strolled up the path and through the wall of the cabin, then reappeared a couple of minutes later. “He’s not there. I checked every nook and cranny.”
“Okay. So what do you think I should do?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t want you going in that cabin. What if they left the gas on or something?”
Maryse considered her words and weighed her options. “You think he could have rigged something…like an explosion, maybe?” She ran one hand through her hair and tried to think. “Okay, if he rigged something to explode, then it would probably happen when I opened the front door, right? I mean, one look at my kitchen and anyone could see I don’t cook, and besides, I had my gas turned off when I started construction on the cabinets.”
