Sabine smiled at the image of her grandfather helping a young, and likely beautiful, Mrs. Boudreaux into the schoolhouse. “But Lloyd wasn’t a gentleman?”
“Absolutely not. Lloyd was one of the bullies, always stealing lunch money from the younger children when William wasn’t looking. He’d sooner push girls down the steps than help them up, and he was always playing pranks on the teachers, many of them cruel.”
“I imagine once you were older, all the girls chased William.”
Mrs. Boudreaux blushed. “Well, of course, we weren’t so forward back then as children are now. Why sometimes I just cringe at the way they dress and behave in church, and it’s even worse at the market. I have to wonder what kind of future this country has with
them as adults. But yes, William had his share of admirers.”
“Anyone special?”
“Not that I ever knew, but I always wondered. Sometimes there would be parties or other events in the school gymnasium. We were mostly chaperoned, but I’d see William sneak out sometimes and not see him again for hours.”
“So where did you think he was going?”
Mrs. Boudreaux shrugged. “I always assumed he was seeing someone the family wouldn’t have approved of. Once at church, I was certain I saw him slip a piece of paper to one of the girls in the back pews. The poorer families sat toward the back of the church then.”
“Do you remember the girl’s name?”
“Heavens, no. I’m not even certain I knew it then, but she was a good Catholic, always at Mass. Not that it would have mattered to his parents. William’s inheritance depended on his making a good marital match. The Fortescues would have insisted. And besides, they’d already picked Catherine for William. The Fortescues had political aspirations for William, and Catherine’s family had the right connections.”
“And that’s who he married, so I guess the family was happy.”
“I suppose they were.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Mrs. Boudreaux waved a hand in dismissal. “Oh, it’s probably nothing. We were all children at the time, and I guess if one is going to be foolish, that’s the time to do it.”
“You did something foolish?”
“Not me, dear. Catherine. I had a silly fight with my best friend at a dance one night and decided to walk down the hall and regain my composure. At the end of the hall, I saw Catherine kissing someone in the stairwell. I thought it was William, but when he looked up and saw me, he winked, and I realized it wasn’t William at all, but Lloyd.”
Sabine considered this. “So Catherine fancied Lloyd, and William fancied someone unsuitable, but they still married.”
“Well, yes, dear. Wealth comes with duty, and a marriage between Catherine and William merged two of the most powerful families in southern Louisiana. The elder Fortescues died in a car crash soon after William and Lloyd left to begin their military service. William was firstborn and the estate, its staff, and the largest portion of the family’s assets became his responsibility upon his parents’ death.”
“So he did his duty and married Catherine.”
“You make it sound like such a sacrifice. William and Catherine began seeing each other before he left for the war. All that other nonsense happened in high school, and besides, there were the children to consider.”
“What children?”
“No one really spoke of such things back then, it wasn’t proper, but everyone close to her knew Catherine was pregnant when she and William married. The brothers had been home on leave just a couple of months before, which made the timing possible.”
She wrinkled her brow. “And then there was the wedding itself. A rushed affair. Just the minister in the Fortescues living room and hardly the event that a
family of that status would normally have hosted. But then, William was given only a brief leave to make arrangements for his inheritance and attend his parents’ funeral, and Lloyd was already missing in Vietnam and wanted by the military police and the FBI. With his parents’ death, Catherine’s pregnancy, and all the investigation surrounding Lloyd’s disappearance, it’s no wonder the family kept the wedding so private.”
Sabine glanced over at Beau, who nodded. She pressed forward. “Then after his military service, William came home and he and Catherine raised the children. Did everything go well then?”
Mrs. Boudreaux smiled at Sabine. “You were such a beautiful little girl, Frances. Always so full of life and energy. And the questions you would ask. You wanted to know the answers to everything. Precocious is the word, I think. But then I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”
Thoughts raced through Sabine’s mind. The elderly woman was obviously confused, but would it do any harm to pretend to be Frances? It took only a moment for her to make up her mind. “Actually, Mrs. Boudreaux, I don’t remember much from my childhood. I wasn’t…well for some time.”
Mrs. Boudreaux continued, “You were just beginning your senior year of high school when I started to notice the change. Before, you’d always been so sweet, so outgoing, but over time you became more and more withdrawn. You barely spoke to people in town and when you did your voice was clipped and filled with anger. Your teachers were at their wits’ end. You were their best student, but your marks had slipped so low they were afraid you wouldn’t even graduate. Then you
got meningitis and after a prolonged recovery, Catherine insisted on private tutors for the rest of your education. Why, we hardly saw you again in town after that.”
“And that’s when my parents shut themselves away, also?”
“Well, Catherine was always busy with her church charities and such, but William was never the same after Vietnam.” She frowned. “Such a shame what that kind of tragedy can do to a man. A real shame.”
“Yes, it is,” Sabine agreed.
Mrs. Boudreaux leaned forward in her rocker and patted Sabine’s leg. “I’m so glad you got well, Frances. It’s been so nice talking to you, but if you young people don’t mind, I’m going to take a nap before dinner.”
“Of course,” Sabine said and rose from her chair. “Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me, Mrs. Boudreaux. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”
Mrs. Boudreaux nodded once, then dropped off to sleep. Sabine and Beau quietly left the room and let the nurse know they were leaving. They had no sooner turned onto the freeway when Sabine’s cell phone rang.
“Maryse,” Sabine said. “What’s up?”
“Something went wrong with the car. Mildred’s been in an accident,” Maryse said, her voice shaky. “I’m at Mudbug General.”
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” Sabine said. “Call me as soon as you hear anything.” Sabine closed her phone and looked over at Beau, panic already sweeping over her. “We have to get to Mudbug General. Mildred’s been in a car accident.”
“Don’t start worrying until we know the score,”
Beau said. “I’m sure she’s going to be fine. Maryse is with her, right?”
Sabine shook her head. “You don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“She was driving
my
car.”
Beau tried to get control of his emotions as he raced into the hospital parking lot. Until he had more information, he needed to remain calm, objective. One thing he knew for certain, though: he’d paid far too many trips to the hospital in the last couple of days. They rushed into the emergency room and found Maryse waiting for them right inside the door.
“How is she?” Sabine asked.
“The doctors say she’s going to be fine. Her foot is broken and there’s some burns on her hands and arms, but they can’t find anything else.”
“Burns!” Sabine cried. “Oh my God. What happened?”
Maryse shook her head. “I’m still not quite sure. All I know is Mildred was on her way back from an errand in New Orleans and drove off the road and into the ditch. I don’t know if the car caught on fire before or after she ran off the road. She was only half conscious when they brought her in and all I could make out was her saying ‘Tell Sabine it was the car.’ Then the doctors took her away and now she’s out for the count.”
Beau felt his jaw clench. Cars did not arbitrarily catch fire. “Do you know where they took the car?”
Maryse nodded and pulled a business card from her pocket. “One of the state troopers gave me his card.
He wrote down a number on the back for the shop they towed the car to.”
Beau took the card from Maryse and looked over at Sabine. “I’ll need you to call the garage and give them permission to talk to me about the car.”
Sabine nodded, her face pale. “You don’t think it was an accident, do you?”
“No, and neither do you. You didn’t from the moment Maryse called.”
Beau pulled out his cell phone and stored the number to the garage, then gave the card to Sabine. “I’m going to the garage now, so give them a call before I get there. If you need to leave the hospital before I get back, do
not
go alone.” He looked over at Maryse. “I want someone with her at all times.”
Maryse nodded. “I know the drill.”
Beau studied her for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you do. The safest place is the hotel, so if you leave before I get back, go straight there. Eat at the hospital, or get something here to go, but don’t under any circumstances have anything delivered or eat any food Mildred or Sabine have on hand.”
“No problem,” Maryse agreed.
Sabine’s eyes were full of fear. Fighting the overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms, he squeezed her arm instead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. We’re going to get to the bottom of this. I promise you.”
Sabine threw her arms around him in a crushing hug. Surprised, Beau circled his arms around her, trying not to dwell on how their bodies molded together in a perfect fit, or how his heart leapt at the warmth of her body. He buried his head in her neck, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair.
“Thank you,” she whispered, giving him a final squeeze before she dropped her arms and took a step back.
“You’re going to be fine,” he promised her.
Maryse placed a hand on Sabine’s shoulder. “Of course she is,” Maryse said, then grinned at Beau.
Beau gave his new ally a wave and headed out of the hospital. Mudbug didn’t have a shop large enough for the kind of damage he imagined was done to Sabine’s car, so he figured it had been towed to New Orleans. A quick phone call verified his hunch and provided him with the location of the shop and the technician who was looking at her car.
He made the drive in just under an hour and hurried into the service garage. Sabine’s car was in the first stall and what he saw brought him up short. The entire front of the car was scorched black, the remnants of the fire almost glowing against the pale silver of her car. The black extended past the front seat and halfway into the back.
Beau said a silent prayer of thanks that Mildred had made it out of this wreck with as few injuries as she had, then gave a second thanks that Maryse and Sabine hadn’t seen the car. They would probably have had heart attacks. He was just about to step inside and ask the receptionist to locate the manager when he saw a stocky, middle-aged man walking his way.
“You must be Mr. Villeneuve,” the man said and extended his hand. “I’m Russell Benoit, the manager here.”
Beau shook the man’s hand. “Please, call me Beau.”
The manager nodded and pointed to the car. “Ms. LeVeche said you were a friend and I should tell you
everything I knew about her car.” He blew out a breath. “I gotta be honest with you…this is a matter for the police, not a friend. I called them about twenty minutes ago.”
Beau nodded. “I figured as much. I’m also a private investigator, former FBI. Go ahead and tell me what you’ve found. You’re not going to surprise me.”
The manager’s eyes widened. “Well, that makes this a bit easier, that’s for sure.” He motioned Beau over to the car and wrenched open the hood. Some of the engine had already been removed, probably as they looked for the cause of the fire, and the manager pointed to a hole on the right side. “Look down through there. You see that little piece of metal on the bottom that’s a bit shinier than the rest, right there next to what’s left of the fuel line?”
Beau peered through the hole and located the shiny piece of metal. “Yeah. It doesn’t belong there, right?”
“Not even close.”
Beau straightened. “So, what, someone shoved it in the fuel line?”
The manager shook his head, a concerned look on his face. “I don’t think you understand. A cut fuel line can’t cause a fire, not by itself.”
Beau stared at the manager. “Okay, so then what caused the fire?”
The manager ran a hand through his hair. “A bomb.”
It was a little over an hour before Sabine and Maryse were allowed to see Mildred. Sabine teared up at the sight of her “mother,” hands and forearms bandaged and her foot in a cast. She felt Maryse’s hand on hers
and gave it a squeeze. Together they stepped close to the bed and looked down at the woman who had raised them. “She’s going to be okay, right?” Maryse asked the nurse, even though they’d just spoken to the doctor in the waiting room.
“Yes,” the nurse said, reassuring them. “It looks much worse than it is. She’s a strong woman and I imagine she’ll be up and around in no time.”
Mildred opened her eyes and looked around the room. “Damned hospitals. I hate hospitals.”
The nurse gave them a sympathetic nod. “She’s receiving a bit of painkiller through her IV. You can visit for a few minutes, but I wouldn’t expect her to make much sense.”
Sabine thanked the nurse and she left the room. “Mildred,” Sabine said and leaned over the bed. “Can you hear me?”
“Of course I can hear you, Mom,” Mildred said. “I’m hurt, not deaf.”
Sabine looked over at Maryse, who raised her eyebrows. Apparently there were some
really
good drugs in that IV. “Mildred, it’s Sabine and Maryse.”
Mildred blinked once and stared at them. “Well, of course it is. Who did you think you were?”
Maryse placed her hand over her mouth, but Sabine still heard the giggle. Not that she could blame her. It was kinda funny, in a someone-tried-to-kill-you-be-cause-they-thought-you-were-me kind of way. Mildred closed her eyes and let out a snore. Sabine was just about to suggest they leave and let Mildred rest when Helena Henry walked through the outside wall and into the room.
The ghost scrunched her brow in confusion. “What
are you doing back here, Sabine? I’ve been looking for you everywhere. I was sure they released you hours ago.”
“I
was
released hours ago,” Sabine said and gestured to the bed. “Mildred had a car wreck.”
Helena stepped between Sabine and Maryse and peered over at Mildred. “Oh, man, that looks bad. Is she going to be all right?”
“The doctor says she will be. She’s got some burns and a broken foot, but otherwise, she’s okay.”
Helena shook her head. “Damn woman is too cheap. Don’t tell me she doesn’t make enough money at that hotel to buy a decent car.”
“She wasn’t driving her car,” Sabine said. “She was driving mine.”
Helena jerked around and looked directly at Sabine. “You don’t think…”
“I don’t know what to think yet. Beau’s at the garage talking to the mechanic. But Maryse said when they brought her in that Mildred was saying something was wrong with the car.”
“Shit.” Helena looked back at Mildred, who was awake again and squinting at them.
“Sabine,” Mildred said, “who’s your friend?”
“That’s Maryse, Mildred.” Sabine whispered to Helena, “She’s on drugs.”
“Well, heck,” Mildred said, “I know who Maryse is. I mean the one next to you.”
Sabine felt her blood run cold. She heard a sharp intake of breath but couldn’t be sure whether it had been Maryse or Helena.
She’s hallucinating. That’s got to be it. Please God, let her be hallucinating.
“I don’t have another friend here, Mildred.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Sabine
hadn’t yet gotten to the point of considering Helena a friend, and the jury was still out on if she ever would.
Mildred gave her an exasperated look and pointed directly at Helena. “Then who is the fat woman with the pompadour hairdo?”
Helena straightened up and glared at Mildred. “Who the hell is she calling fat? And that do of hers has looked like a hat helmet since the 1960s.”
Sabine looked over at Maryse, but it was clear her friend was going to be no help. Her expression wavered between needing to pray and wanting to cry. Sabine took a deep breath.
Calm down. Obviously she can’t hear Helena or she would have made a comment back to her. That just means she can see her.
Which meant…what? Sabine rubbed her fingers on her temples, certain that at any minute, her head was going to explode.
Before she could form a plan of action, or arrange for a mass burial, the nurse walked back in. “I’m sorry,” the nurse said, “but I’m going to have to ask you to leave for the time being. We’ll transfer Ms. Mildred to a room in a couple of hours. Dr. Breaux wants to keep her overnight for observation, but assuming everything goes well, she should be able to go home in a couple of days.”
Sabine nodded at Maryse, then narrowed her eyes at Helena. Helena glared back but stomped out of the room after them. “Well, that was rude,” Helena bitched as soon as they stepped into the hall and closed the door behind them.
“What was that?” Maryse asked, her eyes wide. “We’ve already had this discussion about what happens when someone sees Helena.”
Helena looked at Maryse. “What happens? You never told me anything.”
“Death, Helena,” Sabine said. “Maryse has this theory that you’re only visible to people who are close to death.”
Helena shot Maryse a dirty look. “That’s just as rude as Mildred calling me fat.”
“And just as accurate,” Sabine shot back. “Name me one person who’s seen you whose life hasn’t been in danger.”
“Well, that’s hardly fair since I’m mostly trapped in Mudbug. Maybe if I ventured out some, more people might see me and prove your theory wrong. Besides, Luc can see me.”
“
Could
see you,” Maryse corrected. “And you’re not the first ghost he’s seen.”
Helena spun around to look at Maryse. “Luc can’t see me anymore?”
“You didn’t notice that when you sat down at breakfast and he never said a word?”
Helena shrugged. “I just thought he was ignoring me. So what does it mean that Mildred can see me? I mean I know she was in danger from the car wreck, but it was Sabine’s car, so that doesn’t add up at all.”
Sabine shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the drugs, and being in an altered state of consciousness. Maybe it allows people to see things they couldn’t otherwise. Remember, the first time I saw you was when I’d given myself a concussion in the attic.”
Maryse nodded, obviously happy to grasp any explanation that didn’t involve death. “That makes sense. I mean, as much as any of this does.”
“Maybe,” Sabine said, but she still wasn’t convinced. “Let’s get out of here. I feel like locking myself in my hotel room and not coming out again for a week.”
“I know the feeling,” Maryse said and gave her a sympathetic look. “Do you want to grab something to eat before we head out?”
Sabine shook her head. “I really don’t have much of an appetite. If I’m hungry later, I’ll ask Beau to get me something. Unless you’re hungry.”
Maryse shook her head. “Not a chance. I can’t eat when I’m stressed. I’ve lost twelve pounds over the last five weeks. And I didn’t really have them to lose.”
“I could eat something,” Helena interjected.
“No,” Sabine said. “I’m positive you won’t starve.”
“Fine,” Helena pouted. “Will you at least give me a ride to Mudbug? I stashed some books in the hedges outside of my house. I thought you might want to see them, Sabine. We can pick them up on the way to the hotel.”
Sabine narrowed her eyes at Helena. “Please tell me you did not steal anything else.”
“How the hell can I steal my own things? The books have pictures and newspaper clippings from years ago. They belong to me. I cut out the clippings. I pasted them in the books.”
“You donated your house and everything in it to the Mudbug Historical Society,” Sabine reminded her.
“I’m sure if they could understand any of this and take a vote, they’d all agree that you not being murdered is worth my borrowing my own books for a couple of days. You’re going to have to stop being so uptight, Sabine. Killers don’t play by the rules. If you want to get ahead of him, you’re going to have to ignore them, too.”
Sabine sighed and started down the hall and out of the hospital. She really, really hated it when Helena was right.
“Pull over here,” Helena instructed and pointed to a huge hedge that stretched the length of her former residence. Maryse pulled over on the shoulder of the road in front of the stretch of bushes. Helena hopped out of the car and ran through the hedge.
Sabine shook her head. “Thank God she’s a ghost. Otherwise those bushes wouldn’t have survived.”
Maryse nodded in agreement.
A couple of seconds later, Helena emerged from the hedge carrying a stack of albums that had managed to make it through the hedge-passing with only some scratches. She tossed the albums onto the backseat through the window, then slipped into the car. “Now, pull up in the next drive where that magnolia tree is,” Helena instructed.