Chaos in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law Mystery/Romance Series) (17 page)

“Look,” she said and pointed.

A single bare footprint was clearly outlined in the dried mud.

She looked up at Colt. “You said he would have kicked off his hip waders, right? Would he have been wearing shoes underneath?”

“Doubtful.”

“Well, then unless we’ve got a crazy person swimming the bayous barefoot, I think we need to assume Clifton Vines made it off the boat and to shore.”

Colt nodded. “The question is, where did he go from here?”

Chapter Eleven

Maryse reached for the bottle of water on her makeshift laboratory table and cursed when she saw it was empty. And it had been the last one in Mildred’s refrigerator. She glanced at her watch and cursed again. The general store had closed twenty minutes before and a drive down the highway to Walmart was outside the scope of movement that Luc was comfortable with.

She sat the bottle back on the dresser next to a rack of test tubes and flopped backward onto the bed in the hotel room Mildred had given her to work in. She supposed the bed part was an advantage. It was sort of convenient to be able to flop when she was aggravated. At her real lab, she resorted to pacing. Flopping and lying were better options when one was feeling tired, frustrated, and lazy.

And lately, those three were her standard.

Scientists who were trying to save the world should not have their progress delayed by lack of bottled water. Nor should they be making do with hotel room dressers for laboratory tables. They should be hiding away in dark laboratories, with cool equipment that only other scientist nerds would covet.

“My life sucks,” she said to the ceiling.

“You’re young, skinny, financially well off, and have the most gorgeous husband in Louisiana,” Mildred’s voice sounded from the doorway. “If your life sucks, then I should go ahead and take a bullet.”

Maryse looked over at Mildred and grinned. “Why? You’re not old, not fat, rich as Caesar, and don’t want a man messing things up.”

“Touché.” Mildred smiled. “So what’s got you whining like a six-year-old?”

“Besides the fact that it’s six p.m., I arrived here at an indecent hour, and I haven’t heard from my husband—who was supposed to pick me up at five—since lunchtime?”

“That’s a lot of complaints for one sentence.”

Maryse sighed. “That’s the condensed version. But my current dilemma is that I ran out of bottled water.”

“So drink a soda. Problem solved.”

“Not for drinking. I need good clean water for my experiment, and I know you’re not going to suggest I get it from the tap.”

“Heck no. Sometimes the water’s such a weird color I think I should boil my bathwater.”

“That’s all the algae blooms. I suppose I could boil some water.”

“Are you able to without burning it?”

“Ha ha. Just because I choose not to cook doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“I know you can cook. You’ve been burning stinkweed in here all day. I had to close the air registers in my office because of the smell. Thank God the rest of the rooms are on a separate ventilation system.”

“Well, the stinkweed burning is over for the day because I don’t have bottled water, don’t feel like cooking any, and can’t go to Walmart.”

“If you really want to finish up with whatever that green mess is, check Jadyn’s room. She bought a case of bottled water the other day. I’m sure she won’t mind you borrowing one. I’m getting a supply shipment tomorrow, so I’ll be restocked.”

Maryse perked up, the thought of being able to complete her experiment overriding her aggravation and laziness. “Cool!” She popped up off the bed and grabbed the key from Mildred before hurrying to Jadyn’s room. Sure enough, the refrigerator was stocked with soda and water. She grabbed the first bottled water, then realized it had been opened. She checked the water level, but it didn’t look as if Jadyn had even taken a drink from it. Good enough.

She hurried back to her room, handing Mildred her keys as she walked in. Mildred shoved the keys in her pocket and pointed at the test tubes on the dresser. “So what are you working on?” Mildred asked.

“A topical pain cream,” Maryse said as she lifted one of the tubes from the rack and placed it in a holder over her burner.

“Don’t they already have topical pain creams?”

“Yeah, but not like this. If I can get this right, it will penetrate enough layers of skin to make minor surgery possible without any anesthesia.”

“Hmmmmpff. I don’t think I’d even be brave enough to try that.”

“If you were allergic to anesthesia and needed surgery, you would be.”

“Fair enough.”

Maryse removed the cap from the bottled water and poured some of the water into a beaker. She put the water bottle back on the dresser and brought the beaker closer to her face to make sure the measurement was perfect. As she moved the beaker away, a faint odor wafted past her.
 

She frowned and waved her hand over the beaker, fanning the air toward her face. Sniffing again, her nose wrinkled and she pulled the beaker right under her nose for a big sniff.
 

“Is something wrong?” Mildred asked.

“It smells almost…well, fishy.”

“Maybe you need to clean your beaker.”

Maryse shook her head. “I only use this one for water, and I cleaned it this morning with purified water.” She sniffed again. “Oh well, it looks clean.”

She dumped the water into the test tube and the reaction was immediate. The solution in the test tube bubbled up and over the tube, sending the liquid running across the dresser. Maryse grabbed a towel and wiped up the liquid before any of it ran off onto the carpet.

“I take it that wasn’t supposed to happen?” Mildred asked.

“Not even. Nothing I’m working with should react to water that way.” She picked up the test tube and shook it. The solution bubbled again, then settled down after several seconds. The color looked normal and the fishy smell was no longer present. She was just about to chuck the whole thing and try again tomorrow when she caught sight of something in the bottom of the test tube.
 

She lifted the tube up to the light and studied the bottom. “There’s something in here. Like tiny grains of white.”

“Something in the plant you were using, maybe?”

“I don’t see how. I strained the juice myself.” She glanced at the water bottle and frowned. “Surely not,” she said and lifted the water bottle up to the light. In the bottom, she could barely make out tiny granules. “I’ll be damned. It’s in the water.”

“Isn’t that a heck of a note,” Mildred said. “You pay a premium for that water because it’s supposed to be pure and you’re telling me it has strange things floating in it.”

“Not floating, sinking.” She shook the bottle and the granules disappeared. “And dissolving. This isn’t right. Hand me some of those empty test tubes.”

The urgency must have come through in her voice because without a single comment, Mildred shut the door and passed her the box of empty test tubes. For the next thirty minutes, Maryse ran tests on the water, making notes as she went. Mildred worked silently beside her until she finished with the last test and placed the tube in the holder. Maryse stared at her notes for a minute, certain that she’d made a mistake somewhere, but she knew she hadn’t.
 

She took two steps back and sat on the bed, completely at a loss. Mildred inched over to her, clearly worried. “What is it?”

“Cocaine.”

Mildred sucked in a breath, her eyes so wide Maryse thought they would pop out of her skull. “No. That’s not possible. Jadyn would never…”

“I know. But the alternative isn’t much better.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The bottle had already been opened, but it didn’t appear as if any water was missing from it. I figured Jadyn had opened it, then got interrupted or realized she already had another open—whatever—then capped it and put it back in the refrigerator for later.”

“That sounds logical, but what does that have to do with drugs?”

Maryse looked up at Mildred, a wave of nausea passing through her. “Someone must have put the cocaine in her water bottle.”

Mildred’s mouth fell open and she stared at Maryse for several seconds. Then she turned slowly and dropped onto the bed as if her legs would no longer support her. “But who? Why?”

Maryse shook her head. “I have absolutely no idea.”

“Why would someone want to kill Jadyn?”

“Unless she has an intolerance to cocaine, it wouldn’t have killed her. But it probably would have made her pretty sick.”

Mildred scrunched her brow. “But what would that accomplish?”

“Maybe someone has a grudge. Mudbug has some strange residents, and some aren’t walking the right side of the law.”

“That seems especially true lately. You’re sure it’s cocaine? You didn’t make a mistake with your tests?”

Maryse shook her head. “I’m positive.”

Mildred looked directly at her. “And how exactly are you sure it’s cocaine? Why would you even know how to test for that?”

“It was one of the base components for one of my previous trials.”
 

Mildred popped up from the bed. “You what? With cocaine? Have you lost your mind? Your husband works for the DEA. Good God Almighty!”

“Calm down. It’s not like that. The drug company supplied the cocaine. It was all completely legal and aboveboard.”

Mildred huffed. “That’s the most insane thing I’ve ever heard. What in the world will they think of next?”

“Who knows.” Maryse looked up at Mildred. “What are we going to tell Jadyn?”

“The truth. What else can we do?”

Maryse slumped back on the bed. “Tell her. Crap. How do you tell a person that someone is trying to poison them?”

“Carefully?”

Maryse sighed. “This needs work.”

###

Taylor trudged into the hotel around 7:00 p.m. It had been a long, frustrating day, with no answers for her client. The longer the day had gotten, the less enchanted Helena had become with investigative work, especially when Taylor refused to buy her hot dogs every time they saw a convenience store. Taylor had barely stopped her vehicle before the ghost fled her car, claiming she needed a hot shower and a good night’s sleep. Taylor was so tired she didn’t even try to process those comments. In a single day, Helena had given her more to think about when it came to ghosts than she’d considered in her entire lifetime.

And she would have preferred not knowing at least half of it.

Mildred walked into the lobby from the back of the hotel and gave her a wave. “How did it go?” Mildred asked.

“Not very well, I’m afraid. At least not for my client. No one recognized the man from the drawing.”

Mildred gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. Maybe you’ll get lucky tomorrow.”

“Maybe. I knew it was a long shot when I took the job, and so did my client. As long as both of us remember that, everything will probably turn out all right.”

“And Helena? I’d love to imagine it went well, but I can’t suspend disbelief long enough to muster up the thought.”

“Ha. Yeah, that’s a loaded question. She’s quite a piece of work.”

“That’s the polite way of putting it.”

“I have to be honest, I don’t know what to make of her at all.”

Mildred sighed. “Damn. We were really hoping you’d have some insight.”

Taylor shook her head. “I’ve never seen or heard of anything like her. I wish my great-grandmother were still alive. She was a ghost-talker, too.”

“Did she teach you?”

“No. I didn’t get to spend as much time with her as I would have liked. My mom…well, let’s just say she didn’t like talking about any of this.” Taylor stared down at the floor, the way she usually did when she talked about her mother.
 

“That’s a shame, but it can’t be helped now. I hope Helena didn’t cause you any trouble at least.”

“Based on your comments this morning, I’m going to assume that she was reasonably well-behaved. I did have to cut her off after sixteen hot dogs. I don’t have anything personally against gluttony, but my wallet couldn’t keep up.”

“She’ll eat you into bankruptcy if you let her, so don’t. She doesn’t need to eat, no matter how much she will try to convince you differently.”

“Mostly I fed her so that she’d shut up.”

“That’s how she reels you in. Did she try to help at all?”

“Yeah. She stayed behind and listened to the gossip after I left people. If anyone had known something relevant, it would have been great. Mostly, the women talked about how my jeans were too tight and the men talked about how they liked my tight jeans.”

Mildred smiled. “When someone young and pretty turns up in these tired old towns, it tends to bring out the worst in some.”

“It sorta grossed me out. Those men were old enough to be my father, some of them grandfather.”

Mildred patted her arm. “Honey, in their minds, they’re all still eighteen and off to conquer the world.”