Bayou Betrayal (9 page)

“Waiting for you.” He reached for her suitcase.

“Why?”

He snatched the handle from her and sighed. “Because in case you've forgotten, I
am
the acting sheriff in Lagniappe. This is an open investigation, in which you are the victim. And that makes me responsible for you.”

Just as she'd thought—all business.

“Fine, but you can't stop me from leaving.”

“I can prohibit you from leaving town. Mr. Costigan hasn't concluded his investigation into the fire yet.”

Her sadness gave way to irritation. Perhaps a bit of disappointment? No, she didn't care that he only saw her as a victim, a witness, someone to use to get the information he needed. Well, she shouldn't care.

“I'm not leaving town. I'll go check back into the motel. I'm sure they have a vacancy. Who knows, maybe Anna Grace will refund me the cancellation fee she charged me.” She pushed past him to the stairs.

He jerked back as if he'd been slapped. “We'll find out who this guy is. Once we do, I guarantee you, I'll haul him in and see that justice is served for what he's done to you. That's a promise.”

His words tugged at her heart. “Look, I'm sorry I snapped at you. It's been a long day, I'm tired and I'm worried about Hattie and Felicia and Spence.”

He smiled, righting her world. “It's okay. I understand.”

She nodded and descended the stairs. His footfalls echoed behind her.

“But I'm still going to watch over you, whether you like it or not.”

“Y
ou're making it easy for him to find you.”

Monique tossed her suitcase into the backseat of the SUV and spun around to face Gary. Late-afternoon sun bathed them in warmth. “Excuse me?”

“You go back to the motel, and Anna Grace will tell the world.” He toed the gravel in the Trahan driveway. “That includes the arsonist, apparently.”

True. “Can't I ask her not to say anything?”

He laughed. “Sure, and you can ask the kudzu to quit covering everything, too. Doesn't mean it'll happen.”

“Can't you put a gag order on her or something?”

His laughter continued as he shook his head. “Oh, yeah,
that'd
really shut her up. Anna Grace would only tell her best friend…that would be about the entire population of Lagniappe.”

“I don't have any other options.” She sighed, stress exhausting every fiber of her being. She just wanted to have a normal life—was that too much to ask?

“Let me take you to my mother's.”

She stared at him. Hard. Had he lost his mind? “And put her at risk? Are you insane? I don't think so.”

“Hear me out. The only way he knew you were with Hattie is because of Anna Grace. Hattie, Felicia and Spence all think you're going to the motel. No one would know you were at my mother's. Especially if you leave now, before he's watching the place and can follow you. I can make sure you don't have a tail on the way to Mom's.”

She shook her head. “I can't do that. Not even if there's the slightest chance he'd find out.”

“But he wouldn't.” He shrugged. “I can crash on the sofa bed for a couple of days, just to make sure you're safe.”

A long moment passed before he spoke again. “So, whadda ya say? Will you help put my mind at ease and stay at Mom's, where I can ensure you're safe?”

“I don't think it's a good idea.” But he had a point. Going back to the motel could put anyone else staying there at risk once her whereabouts were known, and they wouldn't have the luxury of being forewarned and on alert. At Della's, at least he'd be there to protect his mother. What was the lesser of the evils?

He shot her that charming grin of his. “Come on, say yes. Mom will be thrilled. You'll be safe. I promise.”

He sure was making a lot of promises here. Could he keep them? She'd have to trust somebody, because she sure couldn't handle these threats on her own. “Okay. But only if your mother agrees after you tell her the whole story.”

“Certainly.” He yanked his cell phone from his pocket, flipped it open and pressed a number. “Mom. Hey.”

He smiled against the phone. The ache of missing her own mother ripped at Monique's heart. How much she'd give to be able to hear her mother's voice again.

Or Kent's.

“That's fine. Listen, I have a favor to ask.” Gary moved to the other side of the cruiser, where Monique couldn't hear his side of the conversation.

Little spurts of discomfort, not quite pain, tingled in her feet. She pushed herself up on the hood of her SUV.

Gary stared at Monique so hard that she wanted to squirm under the intensity.

She turned away and looked out over the bayou. Why couldn't her life be easy for once? Didn't she deserve normalcy, and maybe, just maybe, happiness?

“She's expecting us.” Gary returned to stand in front of her, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“She doesn't mind?” She scooted off the hood, putting more of her weight on her toes.

“Are your feet hurting again?”

“A little.” She shrugged. “Not a big deal. I'll be fine once I can clean and rewrap them. So she's okay with me coming?”

“Says she's looking forward to it. Already going to put clean sheets on the bed and lay out some new towels.”

“I don't want her to go out of her way. It'll only be for a short while. I'll call that Realtor tomorrow and set up some appointments to look at houses.”

“No rush. Mom loves having someone to dote on.” He opened his car door. “Just follow me.”

 

Was he out of his ever-loving mind, inviting her to stay at his mom's place?

Gary shook his head as he steered the cruiser toward his mother's house. He checked the rearview mirror—Monique's truck tailed his.

He'd been desperate—that had to be it. Fearful that he couldn't protect her. And he was obligated to protect her because of his job, of course. Not because he was fascinated by her. There, he'd admitted it. He was attracted to her.

Not that he could do a thing about it. She'd made it clear that she wasn't interested. And besides, she wasn't a Christian. That fact alone would have made getting involved with her an impossibility, even if he hadn't still had lingering doubts about her story.

Outside of business, that was.

But in the house he grew up in? Her sleeping in his old bed, in his room? Wasn't that taking his job just a little too far?

She had nowhere else to go. No place she could be safe.

Father God, please guide me. Show me what to do. Help me be Your light in her dark world. Amen.

He turned the car onto his mother's road. Monique stayed right behind him. He hoped he'd done the right thing. What would the sheriff have done in the same circumstances? Would Sheriff Theriot admire him for taking responsibility for the victim, or chide him for taking her home to his momma?

Lifting the radio, he checked in with the dispatcher and found everything quiet at the station. He put in the request to have the phone records for the Trahan home pulled. Missy assured him Mike had everything under control.

Could Mike be a contender for chief deputy?

Mike hadn't been on the payroll long enough…but he did have that past military service on his resume.

Now, more than ever, Gary needed to make sure he handled this case by the book. Even if taking Monique to his mother's appeared to be a conflict of interest.

He couldn't afford to second-guess himself. This would keep her safe until they could get a lead on the arsonist.

Easing on the brakes, he coasted into the driveway, pulling far to the side of the carport. Monique stopped in the middle of the driveway. He parked and got out, motioning for her to park behind his mother's old Honda.

“Here it is, home sweet home.” He moved to take her suitcase from her.

“There you are, child.” His mother opened the kitchen door and swept Monique in her arms. “I've been worried sick about you. Just get on in the house, now. I've got a nice pot of tea ready.”

He smiled to himself. His mother would nurture Monique until she recovered. Of that, he had no doubt. Carrying her suitcase, he followed the ladies inside.

“You just sit right down there on the sofa and let me bring in the tea.” Della nodded at him. “Go put her suitcase in the guest room.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He spared Monique a quick wink before obeying his mother.

He set the suitcase on the dresser, taking in the tidiness of the room. That'd never been the case when it was his, that's for sure. His mother had put an extra blanket at the foot of the bed, and clean towels sat on the sideboard.

“Gary, are you gonna join us for tea or not?”

“Coming.” Like he'd risk his mother's wrath? He headed down the hall and back into the living room.

Monique sat on the sofa, her feet propped on a pillow on the coffee table. His mother's doing, of course. Della sat beside her, pouring tea from the little pot he'd gotten her for Christmas two years back. “Come on and sit down, son.”

He sat in the chair and accepted the cup from his mother.

She turned back to Monique. “I'm just heartsick over all this nasty business, honey. Are you okay? Really?”

Monique smiled. “I'm fine. I really appreciate you letting me stay here for a few days. I'll call the Realtor tomorrow and start looking for a new place.”

“Oh, phooey. Don't you rush into anything. That awful person who set your house on fire is still out there. You shouldn't be alone at a time like this.”

“Mom, remember not to tell anyone, not even the ladies in your prayer groups, about Monique being here.”

She twisted to glare at him. “Do you think I'm daft?”

“No, ma'am.”

Turning back to Monique, she waved him off like a pesky mosquito. “What can I do to help you?”

“Really, letting me stay here is wonderful. I appreciate it so much. I hope it's not too much of an imposition.”

“Nonsense. Sometimes this house gets too quiet.”

Gary's cell phone chirped. He snapped it off his belt clip and flipped it open. “Anderson.”

“It's Mike. You got some faxes that just came through. Look to be about Monique Harris. Thought you might want to know.”

“Thanks.” He went into the kitchen for some semblance of privacy. “Can you brief me on the content?”

“The NCIC is clean. No history of even so much as a traffic violation. Clean as a whistle.”

Relief rolled off him like the dew off the oak trees. “And the financials?”

“Seems like she's got quite a large account.”

“Meaning?” Gary leaned against the sink, staring out the window into the backyard.

“For starters, shows that she got almost a million dollars on a life insurance policy some six months ago.”

Gary let out a low whistle. “A million bucks? Well, Bob Costigan can strike her name off the suspect list. She doesn't have motive to burn down her own place for the insurance money with that kind of bank balance.”

“And she got a cool ninety thousand from the sale of her house in Monroe. The old Pittman place only ran her two-fifty. You do the math. The woman's loaded.”

“Thanks, Mike. I'll check in later.” He closed the phone and turned to the door.

And met Monique's hostile glare.

“You were checking my bank balances to see if I set fire to my own house?” Anger radiated off her in waves.

“Yes.” Gary reminded himself he had nothing to feel guilty about. He was doing his job. “The investigator requested it. This is standard procedure in an arson investigation.”

“Did it ever occur to you to ask me? It's no secret. I would've told you.”

“This is routine. It's how we do things.”

“Yeah, I know all about how the police do things. I've had it up to here with investigations going on behind my back.” She jerked her hand toward her throat. “I'd hoped you were different from the rest. What a disappointment to find out you're just like them. Worried about solving cases, no matter what the truth is.” She glanced at the doorway.

“Hey, that's unfair.”

“Is it? What if you'd discovered I'd been destitute? Flat-out broke? I'd be at the top of the suspect list, wouldn't I? Even though he's called me and Hattie both, I'd still be the main suspect, right?”

“No. I'm working on getting the phone records right now.”

“But hey, with my
bank balance,
I could afford to hire someone to make those calls, right? Isn't that what you guys think? The first suspect is always the right one?”

“That's uncalled for. I'm only doing my job.”

“Well, don't let me keep you from it.” She spun around and marched down the hall to her room.

His room.

“You really did it this time, didn't you, son?”

He met his mother's harsh stare. She set the tray on the table and shook her head, clucking her tongue.

“Mom, I have a job to do.”

“I see that. Boy, I love you dearly, but you sure can be dense sometimes.” She gripped the back of a chair. “That girl's hurting and she's scared, although she'll never admit it. She trusted you in her time of need. To find out you went behind her back and pulled some kind of check on her, well, it hurt her feelings.”

“I had to do my job.”

“Then you could've told her you were going to check into her personal business, that's all I'm saying.” She carried the tray to the sink and ran water in the cups. “Ladies don't like men prying in their personal affairs. Makes it seem like you didn't trust her to be honest.”

His mouth went dry as he swallowed against the fact that his mother was right.

Once again, he'd tried to do the right thing, and had only managed to mess things up.