Resurrection in Mudbug Page 3

  “Yeah, I got that loud and clear, but you don’t need to worry. I’m more than qualified to handle anything this town throws at me, Yankee or no.”

  He studied her a couple of seconds before replying. “Maybe. But if it’s all the same, I’d like to keep my nose in things for a while. I have a vested interest in keeping this town safe. If something nasty is going on here, I want it gone.”

  She bristled a bit at his words and his scrutiny. He wasn’t her boss or her employer. Who was he to sit in judgment of her abilities? For that matter, what of his own abilities if this had been going on under his nose? She could draw a line in the sand and tell him to back off her investigation, but for now, she’d keep quiet, a decision she’d probably end up regretting.

  The sheriff was a little too good-looking, a little too smooth for her comfort. But he knew the town and the people, and for all she knew, might even have experience with this sort of thing. The stark reality was that she felt better knowing someone had her back, even if he might try to nudge her out of the way. Things here were too different…too strange for her to feel comfortable going it alone just yet, but damn if she was letting him take over. She could already hear the locals commenting on that one—“the pretty little girl couldn’t handle the job so the big, bad sheriff had to rescue her.”

  No way was that happening.

  “I appreciate the help,” she said, deciding that sticking with the simplest sentiment was probably best.

  He looked a bit surprised at the genuine tone in her voice.

  “Not what you were expecting me to say?” she asked.

  “It’s usually not the response one law enforcement officer gets when they try to horn in on another officer’s territory.”

  “I can appreciate that, but the thing you need to know about me is that I’m not stupid. And as I have no male ego to get in my way, I see the advantage of having help from someone who knows the people and the lay of the land. I plan to stay in Mudbug a long time. I want the locals to know they can count on me to keep their town safe.”

  He smiled. “It’s going to be nice having a smart woman around. Sometimes it seems there’s a shortage on brains all the way around in Mudbug.”

  Considering that it was only the day before that she’d watched a bunch of men jump into alligator-infested water for the chance to fight over plastic bags of money, Jadyn was inclined to agree with Colt’s assessment.

  “I am smart,” she said. “I’m also in charge. I would definitely appreciate your help, but it has to be my investigation and my terms. Is that all right with you?”

  “It’s all good,” he said, but Jadyn got the impression that Colt had a completely different agenda. No way was the cocky young sheriff going to play second fiddle to a woman for long. She’d use him for the investigation, but if he stepped over the line, she’d cut him loose. It wasn’t a balancing act she was completely comfortable with, but she’d make it work.

  She didn’t see another choice.

  ###

  Colt studied Jadyn as she worked the boat, careful to go about his scrutiny unobserved. She was thorough—he had to give her that—documenting everything with the camera and voice-recorded notes before allowing a single item in the boat to be moved. She’d donned plastic gloves before boarding, but he doubted it was because she thought any prints remained. More likely, she was simply trying to minimize direct contact with the nasty mud and swamp foliage strewn all over the boat. Being a guy, Colt didn’t have the same issues with dirty or stinky hands, so he went commando.

  He’d been a little surprised when she’d accepted his offer to help so readily, but then he’d seen something in her eyes shift and she’d come back with the whole “but I’m in charge” statement. Apparently, the sexy game warden had something to prove. He’d been the same way when he’d made detective with the New Orleans PD. He could only imagine that the pressure for a woman in a traditionally male role would be even worse.

  But all the same, how much he respected her desire to be in control depended on exactly where this whole mess was headed.

  Even though they were thorough, it only took a couple of hours to determine that no identifiers existed on the boat. No registration, no license, no paperwork of any kind, except the Baggies of money that hadn’t floated away. But that wasn’t the thing that bothered Colt most. What worried him more was the fact that they still had no idea what the money was to be used for.

  “I know this is a pointless question,” Jadyn said, “but I have to ask if we can drag the pond?”

  “A net wouldn’t make it six inches before it hung on something it couldn’t pick up. Not to mention, we’d probably snag some alligators in the mess.”

  “That’s what I figured.” She took a few final pictures of the outside of the boat, then packed her camera away in its bag. Leaning back against the metal wall of the garage, she stared at the boat and blew out a breath.

  “So what do you think?” she asked.

  “I think a lot of things, but none of them based on evidence, because we don’t have much to speak of.”

  “I know. My mind’s rolling through all the things a boatload of money might be used to fund, and each one is worse than the one before.”

  “Yep.”

  She looked over at him. “You know this area—these people—what’s the most likely option?”

  “With this area and these people specifically…none of them. I’ve known most everyone in town since I was a kid. I think I would have noticed if they were drug runners or something equally as despicable.”

  Jadyn frowned.

  “What?” he asked. “You think I’m wrong?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “What then?”

  “I think if someone has been conducting this level of business in Mudbug and not gotten on your radar, then it’s something new or it’s someone who’s above reproach.”

  “That’s a nasty thought.”

  “But not an inaccurate one. If this boat was headed for Mudbug, and if you really intend to help, you’re going to have to let go of any assumptions you’ve made about the people here.”

  The implications bothered him far more than he’d like to admit. In New Orleans, he’d seen situations like this too many times to think she was dead wrong, but he didn’t have to like it, and by God, he didn’t. This kind of thing was one of the many reasons he’d left New Orleans. He’d wanted to deal with simple crime and simple criminals. Things that were obvious and clear.

  This was everything but.

  “Look,” he said finally, “this is hardly my first rodeo. I spent ten years with the New Orleans PD, the last eight as a detective. I know all about the perp turning out to be the person you least suspect, or the person no one believed it could be. I’ve arrested too many of those ‘no possible way’ candidates for me to have much faith in humanity, in general.”

  “But?”

  “But I’m not lying to you when I say I don’t see any signs of major criminal activity here. No one is living beyond his means, except to the extent they’re buying cigarettes and booze instead of paying the utility bill. No one is acting strangely. No one has had a sudden shift in behavior or taken up with new friends. No strangers have arrived in town recently except you and the normal round of traveling salesmen that visit the chemical plants and bunk at the hotel.”

  She considered his words, then nodded. “Maybe the storm blew the boat off-course and it was intended for another town. Maybe the problem isn’t a Mudbug problem at all—and that’s what I’m praying for. But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t turn over every rock and stump in the bayou looking for the answer.”

  “I agree,” he said and sighed.

  “How did the men find out about the money in the pond?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I asked everyone, but they all said another had called and told them. Most boats have CB radios.”

  “But someone had to find it first. Why call people at all? Why not take everything y
ou could for yourself?”

  He frowned. “Could be more than one fisherman headed to that cove. It’s known for producing good-size bass. If it was only one or two men, they might agree to keep it a secret, but if you had three or more show up, then they probably got excited and started telling everyone in range.”

  “Or it could be that whoever lost control of the boat was attempting to collect all the cash when fisherman showed up. It would be helpful to know who was on-scene first.”

  Colt nodded. He’d already gotten around to that thought yesterday when he’d questioned all the men about how they’d been clued in to the money pond, but he was somewhat surprised that Jadyn had gotten there so quickly. She had a good mind for investigation. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t be as much of a liability as he’d originally figured.

  “I’ll ask again,” he said. “They’re more likely to tell me than you. If I get anything more out of them, I’ll let you know.”

  She inclined her head and stared at him for a couple of seconds before speaking. “If there was going to be any bragging going on, where would it be?”

  “Bill’s Bar. But if you stroll in there flashing a game warden ID and asking questions, they’ll sober up and clam up before you can get out the first question.”

  She grinned. “Who said I’d go in flashing a badge? Women flashing other things tend to get a lot more out of men at a bar. In fact, isn’t that what you suggested yesterday as a means for me to get the men out of the pond?”

  He felt a twinge of guilt as she threw his crass statement back at him. His mother would kill him if he knew he’s said something like that. “Most women in authority don’t want to run the risk of disrespect by playing that card.”

  “We’re all given different assets, Bertrand. If it helps solve this problem quickly, I have zero qualms about using mine.”

  He shook his head, both surprised and amused by her take. Maybe Jadyn St. James wasn’t as rigid as she seemed. “Do me a favor and stretch before you go. Some of those deflection moves you’ve got are probably going to come in handy.”

  He saw the blush creep up her neck and barely managed to hold in a smile. Jadyn was working hard at being tough, and on the outside, she looked the part. But she was rusty on the social side of things, which was charming compared to the barracudas he’d dated in New Orleans.

  “Well,” he said. “If we’re done here, I’ll make rounds and start questioning the men again. I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of sending off some of the bills to the state laboratory last night. I don’t expect to find prints, but I wanted to make sure the money wasn’t counterfeit or stolen.”

  “That’s great. Let me know when you hear from them.”

  “What are you going to do the rest of the day?”

  “My job. Starting with getting to know the people of Mudbug from someone who probably knows all their dirty laundry and won’t mind repeating it.”

  “Mildred.” He nodded. “It’s a good plan. She probably hears more dirt on Mudbug residents than the parish priest.”

  “Maybe I’ll talk to him next.” She swung the camera bag over her shoulder. “I’ll catch up to you sometime this afternoon.”

  “Okay.” As he watched her walk away, he decided that it was a great view. She was lean and toned, but not in an overdone way that made her sexless. Add in a curve to her hips and full breasts and Jadyn St. James might just be sporting one of the most perfect bodies he’d ever laid eyes on.

  He sighed. All of which meant he better be at Bill’s tonight in case she decided to flash her wares. A badge and handcuffs might come in handy.

  He walked out of the garage and pulled down the door as she drove away, trying to clear the impression of her physical perfection from his mind. He told himself that he would have offered to help with the investigation even if the new game warden was a fifty-year-old balding man with a potbelly.

  Now, he just had to convince himself that was true.

  Chapter Five

  “I’ll move to Antarctica, I swear!” Despite a desperate attempt at control, Maryse’s voice rose with her frustration level. “I can’t live like this.”

  “Like I couldn’t follow you to Antarctica,” Helena said and rolled her eyes as she plopped down in a chair in front of Mildred’s desk.

  “You wouldn’t dressed like that,” Maryse said and waved her hands at Helena’s disturbing lack of clothes that currently consisted of boy shorts, pasties, and thigh-high boots.

  Mildred glanced over at the ghost and quickly looked away. Apparently, her breakfast hadn’t settled enough to take in Helena in full view. Maryse couldn’t blame her. She’d spit an entire mouthful of coffee on her new living room rug when Helena had walked through the wall that morning.

  “You need to apologize to God,” Maryse said, “and go home.”

  Helena crossed her arms, pushing her stomach rolls out even farther. “I am not going to apologize. He made me. How am I responsible for what he created?”

  Mildred looked up at the ceiling, as if afraid lightning would bolt right into the room.

  “Don’t you dare put this off on God,” Maryse said. “God didn’t send you to my house at the crack of dawn this morning to try and catch a peek of Luc in the shower.”

  “Hail Mary full of grace…” Mildred mumbled and clutched the crucifix that hung around her neck.

  Helena glared at Mildred. “Don’t tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind even once that it would be nice to catch a full nude of Maryse’s sexy husband.”

  “He’s practically my son-in-law,” Mildred said, completely perturbed. “Do you know how awful that sounds?”

  “Hmmmph,” Helena huffed. “Keep lying to Maryse all you want, but as you aren’t dead or blind, I know the truth.”

  Maryse waved a hand at Helena. “You can’t just show up in people’s houses, Helena. For Christ’s sake, when you were alive, you would have had a stroke if someone showed up at your front door uninvited. Why on earth would you assume it’s okay to walk into someone’s bathroom when they’re showering?”

  Helena frowned. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

  “Maybe?” Maryse struggled to maintain control, but the yoga lessons she’d been taking with Sabine were no match for Helena Henry.

  “Okay,” Mildred said, finally finding her voice for something besides prayer. “Let’s talk this out like rational adults.”

  Maryse stared at her, certain at least one of them in the room was not rational or adult, and she wasn’t referring to herself. Mildred caught her look and gave her the “mother stare.” The one that said “shut up until I finish.” Maryse clenched her jaw and flopped into a chair, exhausted already and it wasn’t even 10:00 a.m.

  “Now, Helena,” Mildred began, “if you’re going to be hanging around, then you have to respect our privacy just like you would have had to if you were alive. Unless they were on fire, Maryse wouldn’t open her front door for anyone first thing in the morning, and she definitely wouldn’t let someone in the bathroom to see her husband showering.”

  Helena sighed. “So you’re saying anything I couldn’t do in physical form, I’m not allowed to do in spirit form?”

  “Exactly.”

  “That blows,” Helena ranted. “I mean, what’s the use of being a ghost if I can’t use any of my special powers?”

  “You can use them all you want,” Mildred said in her most placating voice. “Just not on me, Maryse, Sabine, Raissa, or Hank.”

  Helena scrunched her brow for a moment, then pouted a bit before speaking. “I guess that’s fair. It’s not near as much fun, but I suppose I shouldn’t piss off the only people I can have a conversation with.”

  “Is that okay by you, Maryse?” Mildred asked.

  “If that’s the best we can do,” Maryse conceded, “but what about drop-ins? It’s Helena we’re talking about. She might not pop through a wall, but that won’t stop her from standing on my doorstep and ringing the doorbell for an hour.”

/>   Immediately, Helena looked guilty and Maryse knew she’d clued in to her next stage of attack.

  “No drop-ins,” Mildred said.

  “But how am I supposed to schedule a visit?” Helena protested.

  You’re not, was the first thought that passed through Maryse’s head, but she knew she wouldn’t get away with a “you can never visit” policy. And given that Lila was pregnant with Helena’s grandchild, she knew it would be impossible to make her stay away once the baby was born.

  “You can touch things now, right?” Maryse asked. “I mean, consistently?”

  “Sure,” Helena said. “Well, mostly. I mean, occasionally, I have an issue, but I’m probably 90 percent.”

  Maryse tried not to think about what happened during that 10 percent fail rate. “Then we’ll get you a prepaid cell phone. You can call if you want to visit. But you cannot keep calling. And if we say no, it’s no. We have lives here, Helena.”

  “Fine,” Helena said, “but I just want to say that you people are as uptight as ever. I thought you’d loosen up a bit after I left, but I guess there’s no hope.”

  Maryse looked at Mildred and sighed.

  “No hope” was far too accurate.

  ###

  Jadyn’s spirits lifted a bit when she saw Maryse’s truck parked in front of the hotel. The two people she wanted to speak to in one convenient place. If anyone could give her some insight to the inner workings of Mudbug and its residents, it would be Mildred and Maryse. And given that they were the only two people in Mudbug she knew well enough to trust, her options were limited.

  Mildred wasn’t at the front counter, but Jadyn could hear angry voices down the hall where Mildred’s office was located. She hesitated for a second before starting down the hall. It probably wasn’t the best time to interrupt, but she wanted to catch Maryse before she hurried into the swamp to work. And if she were being honest, Jadyn couldn’t imagine what would cause Mildred and Maryse—two of the most practical women she’d ever met—to argue that way, and she had to admit to a morbid curiosity.