Showdown in Mudbug (9 page)

The captain sat stock-still, and Zach could tell he was rolling that idea over and over in his mind, playing out every possible outcome—good and bad—of pumping the mayor’s daughter-in-law for family secrets. Finally, he gave Zach a single nod. “Do it.”

Zach rose from his chair and headed to the door. Before he opened the door, the captain’s voice sounded behind him. “And not a word to anyone.”

That kinda went without saying.

Raissa, Maryse, and Mildred sat in Mildred’s office, all looking at Helena, waiting for the bomb to drop. Helena stared back at them in disbelief, her mind not even capable of processing the information they’d dumped on her.

“But that’s not possible,” Helena said finally, looking far more pale than even a ghost should appear. “I gave birth to Hank. I know he’s my son. Giving birth’s not the sort of thing you forget all that easily.”

“We’re not doubting that part,” Maryse said. “But your blood types are completely off. There’s simply no way you and Harold could have produced Hank.”

Helena’s eyes widened. “I never cheated on Harold. It was Harold who made a habit of running around. Hell, I should have cheated on Harold, but I didn’t, I swear. In fact, I hate to admit it now that I’m dead and don’t even have a chance at another go, but Harold’s the
only
man I’ve ever slept with.”

Raissa glanced at Maryse and Mildred, who were both grimacing. It was pretty horrific, if one knew Harold Henry. And very, very sad. “There has to be an explanation,” Raissa said.

Helena shook her head. “I can’t imagine what. Are you sure, Maryse?”

Maryse nodded. “I double-checked with the doctors I’m working with in New Orleans, just to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything about blood types. They all said it’s not possible for a combination of your and Harold’s blood types to produce Hank.”

Helena stared at her, a lost look on her face. “I don’t understand. Hank was my miracle baby. I’d had problems, cysts removed, and Dr. Breaux said it was unlikely I’d be able to get pregnant. When I got pregnant with Hank, I was so surprised and excited. And now you tell me he’s not even my son. I know he’s done a lot of things wrong, but I still love him. What could have happened?”

“I’m so sorry, Helena,” Maryse said. “The only thing we can think of is that someone mixed the babies up at the hospital.”

“But then…oh God…that means my real baby is wandering around somewhere out there, and I never knew him.” Helena looked ready to cry. Maryse looked over at Raissa, the plea for help written all over her face.

Raissa took the cue and stepped in. “Are you certain you gave birth to a boy?”

“Yes,” Helena said. “I remember the doctor saying so as soon as he came out, and Harold grinning like an idiot. Probably the only damned time the man was happy.”

“That helps,” Raissa said. “I’m going to do a little computer work and see what other male births happened at the hospital at the same time. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Maryse bit her lip and nodded. “I’m really sorry we had to tell you. I guess we were hoping there was some logical explanation.”

“Like my having an affair?” Helena asked. “That’s a great thing to think about a person.”

“It’s not like anyone who’s ever met Harold would blame you,” Maryse pointed out.

“That’s true,” Helena allowed. “I don’t know what to make of all of this. First, I wind up killed. Then I find myself wandering around the earth and causing trouble most everywhere I go, and now you tell me the baby I raised isn’t even my biological child. I guess that should relieve me some, given how he turned out, but it’s just sorta sad.”

Maryse blew out a breath. “I know he’s done some bad things in the past, but Hank is getting better and he’s still your son, Helena, no matter what the tests say. No one can take that away from either of you.”

Helena rose from her chair and nodded. “I guess not,” she said, and walked through the exterior wall of the hotel.

“That went well,” Maryse said. “This sucks.”

Mildred nodded. “It’s a very odd and hurtful situation, but you were right to tell her. She’ll come around in a bit. I imagine this is a shocking blow, on top of everything else.”

“What else is there?” Raissa asked. “I mean, besides being murdered and roaming the earth, then finding out your child isn’t yours?”

“Helena was dying,” Maryse said. “The autopsy showed cancer all over her lungs and a rare form of leukemia.

Raissa frowned. “Why didn’t she tell anyone?”

“She didn’t know. Apparently, her symptoms were very mild and confused with her asthma. No one thought anything of it, including Helena. It’s weird, but not impossible, according to the scientists I talked to.”

“That is a lot to absorb, especially on top of being dead and still here.”

“I know you’ve probably got things to do today,” Maryse said to Raissa, “but do you mind meeting me for breakfast tomorrow morning? I’ve asked Dr. Breaux for coffee. I thought maybe he’d be able to shed some light on some of this…or not. But he
was
Helena’s doctor and he did deliver Hank. I figure if anyone’s going to be perturbed enough by all this to dig into it, Dr. Breaux will.”

Raissa nodded. Whatever happened to their normal lives?

“There’s something else,” Maryse said, and bit her bottom lip. “Hank called me yesterday and again this morning in a panic. I didn’t get a chance to tell you this last night, because I didn’t hear you come in, and afterward…well, I figured you had your hands full, or I hoped you did…”

“No such luck,” Raissa said. “Electrocution tends to lower the libido.”

Mildred started chuckling and Maryse flushed red. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

Raissa waved a hand in dismissal. “You didn’t. It was going to be ruined anyway as soon as he found out the truth. That’s not exactly an erotic teaser. So what did Hank have to say?”

“He said one of Sonny’s guys was at the construction site hassling him. Sonny knows you’re gone, and the guy was pushing Hank to see if he warned you off.”

“Shit. I hope my leaving doesn’t put Hank in a bad position.”

“Hank said he can handle himself, but he wanted to
make sure you knew they were looking for you. I guess I’m hoping they’ll think the FBI got to you, but that’s probably too much to ask, right?”

Raissa sighed. “Since the FBI agent assigned to bring me in was parked outside my shop all last night and thinks banging on my door is the way to locate me, then yeah, it’s too much to ask. Sonny’s men only need a glance at Fields to know he’s a fed. They probably already know Fields doesn’t have me. I’m sure they were watching my shop if they know I didn’t go home last night.”

“Sonny knows you’re friends with Sabine and me. They’re going to look here next.” Maryse looked over at Mildred, who nodded. “Mildred and I don’t think you should open Sabine’s store. You’ll be on the other side of a plate-glass window. Might as well be a sitting duck. They’ll know you’re here, and it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out where you’re staying once they find Sabine’s apartment empty.”

Raissa nodded. “Or just sit at the end of the street and watch me walk to the hotel. I know they’ll find me, but I can’t back out on Sabine.”

“Sabine wouldn’t want you to do this,” Mildred said. “I promise you that. If Sabine knew how this was going, she’d be on the first plane back.”

Raissa shook her head. “It’s really something, you know? Here I thought all these years I was hiding from life and people, trying to keep my distance, and I end up with the best friends a person could ever ask for. You guys are truly amazing.”

A flush crept up Mildred’s neck and onto her face. Maryse nodded. “I agree. We are amazing.”

Mildred tapped Maryse’s leg with her hand. “Stop bragging. I’m the only one who can brag about my girls.” She looked over at Raissa. “Think about it, please.
Maryse can sit in that store, same as you, although I shudder to think what she’d make of reading tea leaves or whatever else you do. The appointments can wait. Sabine is only gone a few days and her regulars already know that.”

“Okay,” Raissa agreed. “Maryse can store-sit, but that doesn’t mean I’m hiding out here like a thief.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Maryse said. “I suppose you’re going to do some snooping?”

“This may be my last chance to catch a kidnapper, and time is running out. In five days, Melissa Franco will likely be returned to her parents with no memory of what happened. I can’t let him get away with it again.”

“Have you heard anything from Sonny’s house that can help?”

“I wish. He was only in his office for ten minutes or so this morning, and I could only hear typing. I’ll keep checking, though. He’s bound to talk to someone sooner or later.”

“Do me a favor,” Maryse said. “I know she’s sorta a pain, but take Helena with you. There’s a lot of advantage to having a lookout that no one else can see. And even though things don’t always turn out so great when Helena’s involved, they could have been worse if she hadn’t been there.” Maryse looked around and lowered her voice. “But don’t you dare tell her I said that.”

Raissa smiled. “My lips are sealed. But I need to find her first.”

“She’ll probably be sitting on the dock at her house,” Maryse said. “She goes there when she needs to think.”

“And we’ve given her plenty to think about this morning.” Raissa frowned. “Speaking of which, if a stupid man in a well-pressed suit comes around here asking for
me or Sabine, that’s Agent Fields. I half expected him to turn up last night, but he probably thought Mudbug would have dirt roads and it would mar the paint of his pristine car. He’ll be here today, though. He won’t have a choice.”

“He won’t get anything out of us,” Mildred said.

“Actually, I want you to tell him that Sabine is on her honeymoon. Likely he’ll leave as soon as he hears Sabine’s not home.”

“Then we’ll be sure he gets the message,” Mildred said. “In the meantime, I took the liberty of parking your car in the garage behind the hotel, and pulled mine up front. I figured it wouldn’t do for them to see your car parked here.”

Raissa nodded. “I figured as much when we raced in here last night and I didn’t see it out front. Thanks, Mildred. You’re getting good at this cloak-and-dagger stuff.”

Mildred sighed. “I’ll just be happy when I can get back to running my hotel and pestering Sabine and Maryse for grandchildren. I’m too old for this crap.”

Zach stood in the living room of a townhome that probably cost more than he made in ten years and looked from Susannah Franco to her husband, Peter. “So there were no issues with Melissa?”

“What kind of issues?” Peter Franco asked.

“The typical sort, like a fight, maybe?”

“Absolutely not,” Peter said. “I hope you’re not suggesting something foolish, like Melissa ran away. Nothing could be further from the truth, and the time you’re wasting here is time you could spend looking for my daughter.”

Susannah Franco placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “He’s just doing his job.” She looked at Zach. “My husband’s right. Melissa is a very happy child. I know all parents think their children are special, but Melissa truly is. She never has a harsh word to say and always finds the fun and joy in just about anything. She loves her life.”

Zach nodded. “What about illness? Sometimes if a child is sick, they behave differently, or if they’re running a fever, it can affect their memory.”

Peter shook his head. “She wasn’t sick. In fact, Melissa is never sick. She has allergies but a mild case at that. My wife is right. She is a very special child. Perfect, almost. Sometimes frighteningly so.”

“Why do you say that?” Zach asked.

“I don’t know,” Peter replied. “It took us so long to conceive and we’d just about given up hope. I guess I
just always had this feeling that I got something I didn’t deserve with Melissa, and one day it would be taken from me.” He gave Zach a bleak look. “I guess I was right.”

“We’re going to find her,” Zach assured him. “When I called earlier I asked about the instructions for your security system. Were you able to locate those?”

“Oh, yes,” Peter said. “They were filed in my office. I’ll get them for you.” He exited the living room and hurried up the stairway. Zach allowed himself one second of relief that he’d managed to get Peter out of the room, but then he turned his best investigative techniques on Susannah. The townhome wasn’t that big, and Peter would be back any minute.

“Mrs. Franco,” he said in a low voice, “before your husband returns, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Susannah’s eyes widened. “Okay.”

“Two years ago, your father-in-law was a member of a panel on child abductions. The cases covered were identical to Melissa’s, but when questioned, he never volunteered that information. Can you think of any reason why your father-in-law would intentionally withhold information that could help find your daughter?”

Susannah gasped, the fear on her face plain as day. “No. I don’t believe it.”

“I saw transcripts of the panel and photos. If you know something about your father-in-law, you need to tell me.”

“Is he a suspect?”

“At this point, he’s a person of interest, but all of you are. That’s the way this sort of thing works. Your father-in-law knew how to disarm the alarm. Melissa would have gone with him without a struggle.”

“No,” Susannah shook her head. “I won’t believe it. I can’t. He’s overwrought and he forgot. There’s no way Martin would hurt his granddaughter or Peter.”

“Not even for a reelection win?”

Susannah’s mouth snapped shut and she stared at Zach for a couple of seconds. “I don’t know why he didn’t give you the information, but there must be a good reason.”

Zach looked her directly in the eyes. She met his gaze for one second, two, three—then she couldn’t hold it any longer and looked away. “Are you sure about that?”

“I have to be,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “The alternative is not an option.”

Helena sat in the passenger seat of Raissa’s car, wearing a black leather outfit and dark sunglasses. Raissa wasn’t sure whether she was going for Lara Croft or
The Matrix
, but she’d missed the mark on both counts. Raissa found herself longing for the days that she could only communicate with Helena through writing or holograms. Maryse may have been dead wrong about the MTV years being worse.

“I don’t understand why you have to do this in New Orleans,” Helena complained. “You’re supposed to stay out of sight. And while I’ll give you that the disguise is good, it’s still not safe.”

“It’s not safe to do what I have to do in Mudbug, either.”

“Why not? I thought you were some sort of computer whiz. They have the Internet in Mudbug.”

“I am a whiz, but it would take time to create a diversion good enough to cloak the origin of the Internet signal. I simply don’t have the time. So the safest way is
to do my hacking at a public site and toss the computer when I leave. That way, no one can trace it to me.”

Helena’s expression cleared in understanding. “And no one will show up in Mudbug.”

“Exactly. The last thing I want to do is put anyone in Mudbug in jeopardy, especially Mildred or Maryse.”

“Well, I still think it’s dangerous, but I guess that’s what I’m here for, right? Lookout extraordinaire.”

Raissa didn’t miss the sarcasm in Helena’s voice. “You’re a great help. Maryse and Sabine wouldn’t be around if not for your help. Your methods may be questionable, but your heart is usually in the right place.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Her face brightened and she turned in her seat to face Raissa. “I don’t suppose you’d stop at the grocery store on the way home and buy me a cheesecake?”

Raissa laughed. “What happened to the diet?”

“Hell, I didn’t diet when I was alive. What’s the point now?”

“Maybe the point is you’re expensive to feed and don’t need to eat, so it’s a waste of money.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Helena waved a hand in dismissal. “So are wine, cigarettes, and gym memberships, and there’s still plenty of those around.”

Raissa glanced in her rearview mirror and frowned. There was a black car about a hundred yards behind them. It was tucked in behind a van, but Raissa caught a glimpse of it as the driver edged the car over, probably trying to see around the van. The thing that bothered Raissa was that the lane next to the van was completely clear. The car could easily pull around.

“What’s wrong?” Helena asked. “You’ve got this weird look on your face, and you keep looking in the rearview mirror.”

“I think someone is following us.”

Helena spun around in her seat and peered out the back window of the car. “The van?”

“No. There’s a black sedan behind the van, but it won’t pass. It’s been there for the last three miles.”

“Do you recognize the car?”

“No, but I’m getting a bad feeling.”

Helena turned around and fastened her seat belt. “That’s not good.”

“Why are you fastening your seat belt? You do know you’re already dead, right?”

“God, everyone is always saying that. You’re like a bunch of broken records. Of course, I know, but I’d still duck if someone was pointing a gun. It doesn’t matter if it’s irrational. Fear is fear.”

Helena’s logic never ceased to boggle Raissa’s mind. So many variables with ghosts, and boy, did Hollywood have it all wrong. She glanced in her rearview mirror again and saw the blinker flashing on the van. She felt her stomach tighten. “The van is exiting.” Raissa checked her mirrors and the highway in front of her, but there was no other car for miles.

Helena sat frozen in the passenger’s seat. “Is the car following?” She clenched her eyes shut. “I can’t look.”

Raissa watched as the van eased off the highway at the last exit Raissa had passed. The black car slowed and Raissa felt her breath catch in her throat, but then the car sped back up and remained on the highway, now exposed. “Shit.”

“They didn’t exit?”

“No.” Raissa pulled her pistol out of her purse, turned the safety off, then clutched the gun in her right hand. She checked her mirror again and realized the
car was picking up speed. They were half the distance from her now that they had been just seconds ago. “This is bad.”

Helena bit her bottom lip and Raissa could swear the ghost grew paler. “How far away is the next exit?” Helena asked.

“Five miles. We’re sitting ducks. I should have taken the last exit and tried to shake them. Stupid! I’m losing my edge.” She checked the mirror. Another thirty yards and the car would be on top of them, and it showed no signs of slowing.

“Hold on, Helena. This is about to get ugly.”

She’d barely finished her statement when the other car struck them from behind, then dropped back. Helena curled up in a ball with her head between her legs and arms wrapped over her head. Raissa gripped the steering wheel with her free hand and just managed to keep the car on the road. “Damn it, Helena, I need help here.”

Helena peeked out from under her arms. “What kind of help?”

“I have a plan. I need you to be ready to read the license plate off the other car.”

Helena sat up and glanced in the passenger-side mirror. “There’s no plate on the front.”

“I know that. I’m hoping there’s one in the back. Are you ready?”

Helena looked completely confused but nodded. “Go for it.”

Raissa lowered the driver’s side window and shifted her pistol to her left hand. She watched in the rearview mirror as the car built up speed behind her for another hit. Just before the car reached her, Raissa yanked the wheel to the left and slammed on the brakes. The other car shot by them on the right side. Raissa strained
to see the driver, but the windows were tinted so dark, she could barely make out a silhouette inside.

Before the other driver got any bright ideas, like braking himself, Raissa held her gun out the window and fired a shot into the trunk of the other car. The driver swerved, but managed to maintain control. Raissa waited a couple of seconds to see what the driver would do. She prayed he’d take the warning and move on. The shot had been a warning. If she had to kill the man, things would get really sticky, and she couldn’t afford to waste time sitting in a jail cell.

“Shoot him again!” Helena yelled. “Make it count this time.”

The other driver, apparently realizing his mistake, leaped forward. Raissa pressed the accelerator as far down as it would go, but the other car kept inching away from them. Her finger twitched on her pistol, and she warred with herself over shooting out the tires. But then she’d be on the hook for whatever happened afterward. Damn it!

Raissa’s chest and stomach hurt from the seat belt, and she brought her hand in the window, placed the gun in her lap, and loosened the belt. She took a deep breath, trying to control her racing heart.

“You’re letting him get away,” Helena complained.

“I’m not letting him. His car is a lot faster. There’s a V-8 engine in that Cadillac.”

“It’s still not as fast as a bullet.”

“I know. But I couldn’t afford to waste a day or two in jail explaining myself to the police, and the FBI would be right there ready to expedite things as long as I agreed to be on the first bus out of here.”

“Yeah, okay,” Helena groused. “I guess I see your point, but I don’t have to like it.”

“I don’t like it, either. I would much rather have put
a bullet through his head. Did you get a look at the back of the car?”

“There was no plate on the back, either,” Helena said, huffing like a freight train.

Raissa looked over at Helena, who was struggling to loosen her seat belt. “Are things supposed to hurt ghosts?” Helena asked. “Because this seat belt is killing me. What the hell?”

Raissa watched as the black car disappeared over the next rise in the highway.
What the hell?
was a really good question.

Working on her best pout, Helena sat in a secluded corner of Starbucks across from Raissa. “I can’t believe you’re going to drink that caramel, whippy-doodle thingie in front of me.”

“You can’t exactly drink one in here,” Raissa whispered. “I’ll get you one when we leave.”

“Promise?”

“God, you’re worse than a three-year-old. Don’t worry. You’ll have your coffee in twenty minutes or less. That whole run-in on the way here has made me change my plans. I don’t have time for the hacking I had planned, and it might not be the best idea, when I can convince someone else to do it for me.”

Helena winked. “Must be nice having a cop on the side.”

Raissa laughed and pressed in some numbers on her cell phone. “Zach, I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Can you track down the other missing girls? I thought that if we could find where they are now, we might be able to ask if they’ve remembered anything about their kidnapping, or if anything’s happened to them since.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Zach said. “Just let me run it by the captain. He’s been watching us like a hawk. We’re not supposed to do anything unless it advances the investigation.”

“Great. And, um, there’s one other little thing.”

“What kind of thing?” The suspicion was evident in his voice.

“Well, I got into a little trouble, and I was hoping you could—”

Zach didn’t even let her finish. “What the hell happened now?”

“A car followed me from Mudbug and tried to run me off the road. I might have taken a shot at them in a
Top Gun
sort of maneuver.”

“Damn it! I told you to stay put.”

“Yes, but I had things to do.”

“Like what?”

“Like get a coffee. So can you help me do a DMV search or not?”

He sighed.

“Now, see, this is exactly what the captain doesn’t want us running off on,” he said. Then after a pause, “Did you get the plate number?”

“No plates, but I have a make and model. Black Cadillac DTS—current year.”

“You want me to do a search for every Black Cadillac DTS in New Orleans? Seriously?”

“It’s a sixty-thousand-dollar car. There can’t be that many.”

“Fine, but if I lose my job over this, I’m sending you my mortgage bill.”

Raissa smiled. “I’ll make it up to you. Give me a call when you have the info.”

“So why do you want to know about the other girls?” Helena asked as Raissa hung up.

“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling that they’re all connected in some way other than appearance, but it’s a strong feeling. Do you know what I mean?”

Helena nodded. “Yeah. Kinda how I felt right before I died. I knew it wasn’t just another asthma attack or something simple. It was too late by then, but it’s almost like carrying a wet blanket around on your shoulders. I’ve been carrying it ever since.”