Filled with awe at their display of power and speed, Mandy breathed in the heady scent of the swamp—damp earth and heavy, lush vegetation. In the sunlight, the Spanish moss had looked like shrouds of delicate gray gauze. In the deepening twilight, the bayou looked far more eerie…and in every direction, it all looked the same. If she had to get home on her own, how would she ever manage?
Clint throttled the motor down to a low purr and the boat languidly skimmed through the water. Sarah snuggled into her blanket and closed her eyes, and in a few minutes she was asleep.
“This is truly amazing out here, Clint. But does anyone ever get lost?”
He laughed at that. “All the time. The channels change. Landmarks look the same. The interlocking networks of open water and swamp encompass thousands of acres. But I grew up here, and this is like my backyard.”
“You were lucky.”
“In some ways.” He nodded toward a rickety shanty at the edge of the channel. Built on stilts, it stood a few feet above the water and looked as if it could crumble into the bayou any second. “You’d be surprised at how many people live out here. So would the government, I suppose. A fisherman lives in that one. Believe it or not, a lot of little places like that one survived Katrina.”
She squinted at it, trying to make out the surrounding strip of land. “There’s no road!”
“No road, no cars. Just his boat. No electricity either—just a generator.”
“So if a person needed to hide…or needed to get rid of evidence…”
“This would be the place.”
She shivered, thinking of the poor woman who had been found out here in the water. And about Leah, who might have disappeared out here as well, though Clint’s hope never seemed to waver. What was it like, having that much faith? Believing that things would turn out well?
A full moon broke through the clouds, sending silvery light through the canopy overhead.
Clint grinned at her, the flash of his white, even teeth and the sparkle in his eyes making her shiver in an entirely different way. “Guess you know all about me by now,” he said. “So, Ms. Mandy Erick, tell me five interesting things about yourself.”
He was just making conversation. It didn’t mean anything at all. Yet…there was an intensity in his gaze that hadn’t been there before. Did he suspect something? Worse—had Dean tracked her to Loomis, and was he starting to ask questions? She tried to rein in her rising panic. “Five?”
With a laugh, he lifted a couple of cans of soda from a cooler and handed her a root beer. “One, then. Let’s start with that.”
“I’m an only child.”
He waited patiently.
“I hate liver.”
He laughed at that. “Me, too.”
“And okra.”
“Wait a minute. That’s a Southern staple!”
At the teasing glint in his eyes, she smiled back. “Grits are okay—with lots of salt, pepper and butter. And cheese. Lots and lots of cheese.”
“So there’s hope for you yet. What’s number five?”
“Um…my mother left when I was in grade school.” Where had that revelation come from? She’d intended to keep things light, to reveal nothing of any importance. And yet, something warm and compelling about Clint kept drawing her closer, even though she knew she needed to stay away.
“Left?”
“As in, took off. Ran away.” Something that her dad never forgot, and never let her forget, either. You’re turning into a floozy, just like your mother. Scrub that make-up off your face! What’s this—a B in math? Of course, your mother didn’t concern herself with education, either. What should I expect?
“I’m sorry. That had to be tough. Leah and I lost our parents, but we were early teens by then.”
“I still had my dad, though he passed on a year ago.” Even in the dim moonlight, she could see the compassion in Clint’s expression. “A massive stroke. He…definitely wasn’t prepared in any sense of the word. I finally finished sorting out his estate this spring. It was,” she added wryly, “a rather eye-opening affair.”
“I remember, after taking care of my aunt’s estate a few years ago.”
She shifted in her seat, still uncomfortable over the whole process and the memories that started crowding back.
Then she shared with Clint things she’d never shared with anyone before.
The people who’d hounded her on the phone.
The certified letters.
The local creditors who had stopped her on the street, or pounded on her front door.
She’d worked in her dad’s office, but she’d never been privy to his extravagant business and risky stock market investments. When he died, Leah was left with the fallout of his financial mishaps.
“It must have been an awful experience. Losing your dad and then facing all of that.”
“I was his sole heir, but by the time everything was done I actually owed money.” She shrugged. “So I sold everything and cleared his debts down to the last few thousand dollars, then paid that off myself. It was the right thing to do, you know?”
“But you ended up with nothing, except a chance to move on.”
And it had left her with Dean, who had latched on to her like a barnacle when he’d thought she was coming into money. The fact that she’d been so gullible still filled her with anger and disappointment. “That’s about right. Now I’m free as a bird.”
“And you decided to come to Loomis?”
“New people, new horizons. I’m still deciding where I want to land permanently.”
He studied her thoughtfully for a long moment. “I’m thankful you’re here,” he said finally. “What was your college degree in?”
“I’ve got a few years done on my business major. I hope to finish up as soon as I can.”
“There are colleges nearby. If you decide to go back, we could rearrange your nanny hours.”
“That’s…really kind of you.” A flutter of guilt settled in her stomach. When she did go back to school, she’d be at least five states away. Did she dare tell him her plans yet? Or would he start looking for a replacement nanny as soon as he knew? Maybe not. He was one of the kindest men she’d ever met, but to be safe, she just couldn’t take that chance.
When she’d first arrived, her only thought had been to earn enough money to hit the road again. Now, the idea of leaving filled her with a sense of regret that grew stronger with each passing day.
A ribbon of moonlight seemed to follow them as Clint guided the boat into what appeared to be an impenetrable thicket of reeds. A moment later, a hidden channel opened up into a broad expanse of water.
Clint glanced down at Sarah, who was sleeping soundly, then lowered his voice. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”
Her heart jerked, then lodged in her throat, making it impossible to speak for a moment. No one here knew her. No one knew of her past. Did they? “Tell you what?”
“I saw Nonnie down at the post office this morning. She asked me to give you a message. She said it was important, and she wasn’t smiling when she said it.”
Mandy managed a shrug. “I can’t imagine what that would be.”
“She said to tell you ‘yes.’”
Just that fast, Mandy felt her blood run cold.
“Now…that could mean a lot of things. Good or bad,” Clint continued, watching her expression with open curiosity. “But if there’s something in your past that you need to tell me, I want to know.”
Could she trust him?
Her heart said yes, but her head said no. Definitely not.
Trusting a longtime friend back home with her plans to leave town had nearly gotten her killed when that “friend” went straight to Dean.
Nope. Maybe faith and trust worked for Clint, but she hadn’t had much luck in that department for a long, long time. And even as she looked up into his handsome face, she realized she wasn’t quite ready to start trusting him now.
ELEVEN
C
lint’s own sister was in trouble. Maybe he would understand and be supportive, if Mandy told him about Dean’s threats and the way he’d turned into an obsessive, dangerous man.
Or would Clint fire her on the spot and send her packing?
If Dean found this town, would Clint would see his badge and fall for whatever lies the man told?
She could understand a decision to fire her. Clint would undoubtedly consider her a liability. But a rapid calculation in her head made her heart sink to her feet. Two more weeks of work and she’d have enough for her transportation clear out to the coast, plus a week or so in a cheap hotel and food until she could find another job.
The pageant had already placed her at greater risk, but without the next paycheck, her next bus ticket could land her in the middle of who-knows-where and still not be far enough away.
One slipup, just one emergency need to use her health insurance card or access her bank account, and he could swoop down on her in no time. With his badge and his good-old-boy mannerisms, he could fool anyone into thinking he was doing her family a favor by finding her. Maybe he’d even trumped up some sort of charges so he could ask the local cops for “assistance.”
She had no idea how all of that worked with jurisdictions and all, but if there was an angle he could use, she knew Dean wouldn’t miss it.
Clint was still watching her intently, awaiting her answer.
“I’m not wanted for anything.” At least as far as I know. “I’ve certainly never committed a crime. You checked my record, right? Totally clean.”
“But…”
She took a deep breath, knowing she didn’t dare trust Clint any further than she’d been able to trust anyone else in her life, and opted for just part of the truth. “At our first meeting, I mentioned ending a relationship a while back. I suppose my old boyfriend could try to look me up, but I have no interest in being with him anymore.”
“Look you up? As in…follow you? Harass you?”
“I haven’t seen him since the day we broke up. I have no regrets, and I hope he doesn’t, either. Even if he does, that wouldn’t make a difference. I’m not going back.”
“Did you leave a forwarding address?”
At that, she choked back a humorless laugh. “I’m not sure who I would’ve given it to. I made sure all of my bills were paid. My only relatives are some aunts and uncles who live out East, and I’ve met them only a few times.”
“So why would Nonnie sound as if she were sending you a warning?”
“I’ll ask her.” Mandy shrugged and held out her hands palms up. “Maybe someone asked about me and she read a little too much into it.”
Clint didn’t answer for a long time. “Could be.”
He steered toward the far end of the open water, where she could see the occasional twinkle of lights through the trees. Before long he maneuvered the boat through several tight channels and up to the old pier in Loomis.
After helping Mandy onto the bank, he lifted Sarah into his arms and carried her to his truck.
“Thanks for a beautiful evening,” Mandy murmured when he climbed behind the wheel. “The bayou is truly amazing.”
“I’m glad we went. It’s one of Sarah’s favorite things to do.” He glanced across the seat at her, a corner of his mouth lifting. “And I need to apologize for sounding so suspicious. It’s just…well…”
“If my sister were missing and I’d had to deal with all of the things going on around here, I’d be cautious, too. I understand.”
The drive back to his house on the other side of town was just six blocks, but it gave Mandy way too much time to think.
Inside the truck, with Clint at her side, she felt protected and safe. But all along the streets, shadows loomed and she could imagine shapes slipping through the darkness. Watching. Waiting.
Surely Dean couldn’t be here. He’d have no way of knowing what town she was in. He wouldn’t be interested in actually pursuing her, anyway. He’d been angry. He’d delivered threats. But to pursue her would be sheer madness.
How would he ever explain grabbing her off the street and then hauling her back home? How could he ever expect she’d keep quiet about that?
Unless his plan was to make sure she never got back there at all.
Clint finished his pageant essay on Friday morning, printed a copy for his files, then took a second copy down to Maria at the bank. He made it just in time for the ten o’clock deadline.
She scooped a wedge of silver hair behind her ear as she skimmed the document. “Looks good,” she said at last, the fan of wrinkles at her eyes deepening as she looked up to smile at him. “She sounds like a nice gal, Clint. But I hope you understand this is a real long shot at best.”
“She’s a lovely person. Just what the doctor ordered, as far as Sarah is concerned.”
The older woman’s eyes filled with sympathy. “How is that poor child? Still taking things hard?”
The question was kindly meant, but it had been repeated countless times around town, and each time, he felt a flash of frustration. What did people expect—that a three-year-old could simply forget her mother and father and move on? “Her counselor has helped, so has Reverend Harmon. But she needs her mom back, and so do I.”
“Of course, of course. I still don’t understand how poor Leah could have disappeared, though, without anyone seeing a thing.”
“It doesn’t make sense to me, either. The FBI and the sheriff’s department spent months following up on the tragedies last January, and they came up with nothing.”
“You’d think Chuck Peters would have some information.” She shook her head. “He’s always sleeping off a bender in one alley or another. If anyone had a chance to see something suspicious, it would be Chuck.”
“He was my first guess, too…especially when he acted so scared and disappeared for a while this spring. But he never did say anything, and being known as the town drunk didn’t make him a credible witness anyway, according to the FBI.”
She rolled her eyes. “Did you hear he got picked up again?”
For a split second, the world stood still. “Picked up? I thought he was missing.”
“He disappears all the time. Shows up, gets drunk and disorderly then lands in jail. This time he got into some sort of fight. Someone taunted him about being the mystery serial killer, and he went ballistic.”
Clint had tried talking to the man before, and had gotten nowhere. But maybe enough time had passed…
“I’d better be going,” he called out as he spun for the door, though Maria’s voice wafted out the door after him.
“You and that little girl are in my prayers every single day. You’ll find her momma—I know you will!”
Ignoring the curious glances from passersby, Clint jogged the entire two blocks to the sheriff’s office. Deputy Bertrand was at the front desk when he walked in.
“I hear Chuck Peters is in jail.”
“Was.”
“Was? When was he arrested?”
“Sometime around midnight. Came in drunk and babbling to no end.”
“What about the charges?”
“Charges? We could fill a Volkswagen with all the paper if we filed charges every time that man tipped the bottle. We just keep him safe overnight. Then we generally turn him loose after he’s got a big breakfast in him.”
“When did you let him go?
“An hour or two ago, I guess. Last I saw, he was headed west—straight out of town.” The deputy snickered. “I suggested he just keep going, but of course that never works. He always turns back again, hangs one on and repeats the whole sorry mess.”
Clint nodded his thanks and jogged back to his pickup, then climbed inside and headed west on the two-lane blacktop. Surely the man couldn’t have gotten far.
The average man with a hangover might have covered a mile. Might have just folded up under a shady tree to let the world go by.
When Clint caught up with him, Chuck was walking as if he thought Lucifer’s ho
unds were on his tail. Clint eased ahead of him, then pulled over on the shoulder and stepped out onto the gravel. “Chuck!”
The man’s stride faltered, but he didn’t stop.
“Chuck—wait.” Clint hurried to catch up and fell in stride. The odor of stale beer, unwashed body and long-worn clothes followed the man like a dank cloud. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Where have you been?”
He didn’t answer.
“Want a ride?”
No answer.
“You cared about my sister, Leah. Right, Chuck? She sure cared about you. Remember all those dinners she brought out to you? The blankets?”
“Not Earl.”
“No. Earl wasn’t always so nice.”
Chuck slowed and hung his head. “I didn’t do nothing. I never would’ve hurt anyone. Not even Earl.”
“I know you didn’t. But I really need to find out who did. I love Leah, and I want her back. So does her little girl.”
“I don’t know anything, either.”
He’d probably endured a hundred arrests, the taunts of teenagers, the haughty stares of the society folks back home, but still Chuck had never been able to escape his own demons and had never been able to build a decent life for himself. Now, Chuck studied his feet, his helplessness echoed in the droop of his shoulders and the blank expression in his eyes.
“I figured maybe you saw something—or someone—who scared you, because a few months ago you disappeared for a long time. Then I heard you came back wanting to be locked up, so you wouldn’t have to be out on the streets.”
Chuck shuffled his feet.
“What about a week ago Thursday? Someone broke into Earl’s pawnshop and grabbed some papers. Were you in town then? Did you see any activity late that night? See anyone lurking on the streets?”
Chuck stumbled, then walked faster.
“Look, you need a place to stay. There’s a little motel up ahead a few miles. Can I give you a lift?”
That earned a single shake of his head.
Clint thought fast. Giving the man cash would send him to the nearest liquor store. “I’ll pay for three nights at the Daisy Inn, so you can shower and have a roof over your head.” And so I’ll know where you are. “I can leave some money at the diner next door, so they’ll feed you. There’s a resale shop in that town, too. We could get you some new clothes. Would you like that?”
Deadly Competition (Without a Trace) Page 10
