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Authors: Jana DeLeon

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BOOK: Mischief in Mudbug
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Or maybe she hadn’t known.

Panicked, Sabine shoved the folder at Beau. “It wasn’t me!” she cried. “It wasn’t me Alford was trying to kill.”

Beau stared at her, wide-eyed. “Sabine, what are you talking about? Of course he was trying to kill you.”

“No. Read the papers. Look at that picture. Catherine and Lloyd killed William’s girlfriend in order to pull off their plan. But Sandra already had William’s babies, so they gave them away. Twins. Martin and Mildred.
My
Mildred. She’s been the target this whole time.” Beau glanced down at the photo and his face instantly grew a shade lighter. “Holy shit! It was Alford who said the bridge was out.”

Sabine grabbed Beau’s arm. “We have to get to Mudbug! The phone lines are all down and the cells will never work, especially with the storm. We have to warn Mildred. He’s probably on his way. Or already there.”

They ran back into Frances’s bedroom and Beau looked over at the stricken Adelaide. “Adelaide, I need you to watch Catherine for a bit. I’ll send the police as soon as I can notify them, but in the meantime, I need you to stay here and keep watch. Can you do that?”

Adelaide nodded fearfully. “I think so. Do I have to use the gun?”

Beau shook his head. “Not unless you know how.”

Adelaide blew out a breath. “I know how. And I’m a sight better than that ghost.”

Helena huffed. “Look who’s talking shit now. You were all frozen like a pack of steaks until I got here.”

“Helena, we all know you saved the day,” Sabine said, “now I need you to stay here with Adelaide and make sure nothing else happens. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sabine nodded to Beau and they hurried out of the room.

“But I’m getting a piece of that chocolate cake,” Helena yelled after them.

Mildred sat in her hospital bed, staring at the static on the television and wondering if the worst of the storm was blowing over, or if this lessening was only a lull. She was worried about Sabine, about this dinner with her “family.” Mildred was old-fashioned in a lot of ways, but family wasn’t one of them. Blood didn’t make someone love you. It didn’t make someone treat you right. Not a single one of the people she considered family was related by blood, but when it came to family, Mildred considered herself the most blessed woman in Mudbug.

She had two beautiful daughters, who were fast becoming the women she always knew they’d be. They had integrity. They had respect for themselves. They cared about others and never even blinked at self-sacrifice for each other or for Mildred. They were her greatest joy, and when she was feeling a little vain, her greatest accomplishment.

She smiled as she thought of them, how they’d shown their character even in such trying times, and she knew without a doubt that no matter what hap
pened, her two girls would survive and thrive. And that peace of mind was worth more to her than any amount of money in the bank.

“Lord have mercy!” Maryse burst into the room, both hands full and dripping water from every inch of her and the bags she carried. “It’s a doozy out there.”

Mildred glanced out the window and nodded. “I thought it was slacking off some.”

Maryse dumped the bags on the floor and shook off her raincoat. “It is now, but when I left the hotel it was a torrential downpour. I deliberated between bringing your bags or just starting to build an ark right there in the middle of Main Street.” She grinned at Mildred and tossed her raincoat onto the tile floor of the bathroom and grabbed a towel off a shelf next to the door.

Mildred laughed. “That would be a sight, wouldn’t it? An ark in downtown Mudbug. And can you even imagine getting two of everything on board?”

“Yeah…two idiots, two fools, two rednecks…the hardest part would be narrowing it down to which two. And I don’t care if they’re God’s creatures, I’m still not taking snakes.”

“That’s my girl,” Mildred said. “I just wish Sabine were here instead of with those people.”

Maryse lifted a duffle bag from the floor and wiped it with the towel, then handed the bag to Mildred. “Sorry about the wet part—couldn’t be avoided. And I’m with you on the Sabine thing. I know the Fortescues are her family, but everything’s been wrong since she found them. Well, and I guess even before.”

Mildred nodded and waved one hand at the window. “Like the calm before the storm.”

Maryse’s eyes widened. “Shit. I didn’t even think of
it that way. And I hope your poetic expression isn’t lining up with our atmospheric conditions.”

“Have you heard from her?”

Maryse bit her lip. “No. Cell phone reception’s been spotty though, with the weather. Even if she tried, I don’t know if she could get through.”

“I don’t feel right. I don’t want to trouble you, Maryse, but I’m worried. I feel like something big is about to happen. And not something good, but I can’t put my finger on what.”

“Or why, or who, or how.” Maryse sat on the edge of her bed, a worried expression on her face. “I feel it, too. Been feeling it for a while, but the truth is, tonight it all seems intensified somehow. I thought maybe it was just the storm. You know, like some creepy horror movie.”

“The ‘dark and stormy night’ introduction. Makes for a great gothic tale, but a nerve-racking reality.”

She sighed. “You know, it was always so easy for me to dismiss Sabine’s beliefs about things we couldn’t see. Not that I ever dismissed her or thought any different of her for believing. I just couldn’t make that leap myself.”

Mildred nodded. “I know. I have the same hesitation, but the older I get, the less inclined I am to say ‘never.’ It tends to come back and bite you.” She paused for a moment, thinking about her next words, the best way to say them. “I know something has been going on with you and Sabine lately. Something that is bothering you both and that you don’t want to tell me about. Maybe when all this has settled down, you’ll think about letting me know.”

Maryse looked stricken, and Mildred knew she’d hit a nerve. “We’re not trying to leave you out or make you
feel unimportant, Mildred. I promise you.” She laid her hand on Mildred’s. “But you’re right. There have been some things happening to us that, well, we didn’t really think you’d take the right way…or take at all.”

Mildred patted her hand. “I know exactly what you’re saying, and you were right…then. You were right until I woke up in this hospital and saw Helena Henry standing next to my bed big as life and the two of you talking to her.”

Maryse’s eyes widened. “You really saw her? We hoped it was the drugs making you confused.”

“I saw her all right. At first I thought maybe I’d imagined it, but it was too vivid, and you looked too frightened when I said something for me to think it was just me being high.”

Maryse jumped up from the bed and paced the tiny room. “That’s not good. I have this theory, you see, that when someone sees Helena, they’re in danger. That seems to be the pattern. That’s why Sabine and I were worried. And since you saw her
after
your car wreck, it makes me think it’s not over for you.”

Mildred took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “But that would explain this feeling we have, wouldn’t it? Something’s coming, and maybe somehow Helena is connected to it all.”

Maryse stopped pacing. “That’s what I think, and you’re right, the three of us need to have a long talk when this is over. Whatever ‘this’ is. But not now. Right now, it would be overload, and we need to keep our minds focused on looking for whatever it is that’s coming. Being blindsided sucks.”

Mildred nodded. “We’re going to be fine, Maryse. We may not know what we’re up against but we know
something’s there. That makes us more prepared than most in our situation. I know I’ve sent you running all over tonight, but if you don’t mind, would you pop down to the cafeteria and pick us up a couple of large coffees? I’m thinking sleep isn’t really the best idea at the moment.”

“Of course,” Maryse agreed and hurried out of the room.

Mildred unzipped the wet bag she’d just gotten. She’d been carrying it around in addition to her purse for a couple of days—had been compelled to for reasons she couldn’t attest to, but then things hadn’t been normal in Mudbug for quite a while. Oh, there was a spare set of clothes on top to hide the real reason for the bag, but the cold, hard reason for it was nestled in the bottom. She pulled the pistol from its holder and carefully loaded it. A blast of thunder echoed through the room, and she looked out the window at the raging storm. Maryse was right—that storm was setting her on edge even more than before. She tucked the gun under the edge of her covers right by her hip and hoped to God she was faster than whatever the winds were blowing her way.

Chapter Nineteen

Beau pressed the accelerator on his truck, pushing the vehicle as fast as he could down the muddy road. “The storm is slacking off some,” he said, hoping to reassure Sabine, who sat rigid on the passenger’s seat.

“What if the bridge is out now? What if we’re too late? What if he gets to Mildred?”

“Stay calm, Sabine. Mildred is still in the hospital, and Maryse was going to be there with her. It’s not like she’s alone, by any stretch. And maybe we’re wrong about all of this.”

“Mildred was firstborn. That must be important or Catherine wouldn’t have mentioned it to me. As their attorney, Martin would know just how important it was. I’d bet he’s been stalking the family his entire life, waiting for a chance to claim his rights.”

“So why wait? Catherine would have paid him plenty to go away.”

“I think…I know it sounds strange, but I don’t think it was just about the money. I think it was about
being
a Fortescue. And if we assume Martin didn’t know William was actually Lloyd, then the only way that would happen is if William admitted to an affair before he married Catherine.”

“And since Martin knew Catherine, he knew that would never happen,” Beau finished. “So he was biding
his time thinking that when they passed, he’d come in for the biggest piece of everything as firstborn. But somehow he found out about Mildred. How do you think that happened?”

“It had to be that newspaper article—the same one Frances had. Remember, when we were at Martin’s house, I brought a New Orleans paper inside. Mildred looks just like his mother. He would have seen the resemblance right away, and guessing that he had a sister out there somewhere wouldn’t have been so big a leap to make.”

Beau nodded, understanding Sabine’s logic. “But that still doesn’t explain poisoning you or the car bomb. That was your wine and your car, Sabine.”

“That’s just it,” Sabine said, her voice growing more excited. “That bottle of wine was one Mildred picked up. I’d just gotten it from Mildred the day before. And since her car’s been on the blink, she’s been driving mine. If Martin came to Mudbug to spy on her—”

“He would have thought the car was hers,” Beau finished, and his pulse began to race. “Shit, you’re right. It makes total sense, as much as any of this does. And the break-in at your shop was probably Martin, too. It gave him a shiny new key to your building and access to anything you might have on Mildred.”

“Oh no! I have a master key to the hotel. It’s hanging on a rack in my kitchen with a label on it, plain as day. What a moron! I may as well have opened the door for him myself. And what do you want to bet that the whole dinner was Martin’s idea. Being stuck at the Fortescue estate would have been the perfect alibi for him. If it hadn’t been for Frances digging up dead people, we would never have known he was gone.”

Beau nodded and felt his jaw tighten. It was very slick, very smooth. To have done all the things they imagined, Martin Alford couldn’t be completely sane, but he wasn’t all-out crazy like Frances. He was cunning and clever. Beau slowed as they approached the bridge, praying that Alford had lied and that the water hadn’t risen since the attorney had made his escape. He blew out a breath of relief when he saw the water swirling just underneath the wooden structure.

“He lied,” Sabine said. “Thank God, he lied. Now if we can get to Mildred in time…”

“We’ll get there.” Beau pressed the accelerator halfway to the floor and the truck launched over the bridge and onto the road beyond. “Check the phones. See if we’ve got a signal yet.”

Sabine grabbed Beau’s phone from the seat next to her and looked. “No, damn it.” She pulled her own phone from her pocket and peered at the display. “One bar.”

“Try it. Call 911.”

Beau glanced over as Sabine punched in the numbers and was certain she was holding her breath. The relief on her face let him know right away that the connection had gone through. Sabine handed the phone to Beau. “You explain. I’m going to sound hysterical.”

Beau took the phone and gave the local cops a brief description of the situation at the Fortescue mansion, then explained the situation with Mildred. The dispatcher was stunned, but he promised to get police to the Fortescue mansion and the Mudbug hospital as fast as humanly possible. Beau pressed End and handed the phone back to Sabine. “Call Maryse. Her phone might not pick up in the hospital, but it’s worth a try.”

Sabine took the phone and pressed in Maryse’s number. A couple of seconds later, she shut the phone, the disappointment on her face clear as day. “It went straight to voice mail.”

Beau turned the wheel hard to the right and the truck lurched onto the highway. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll be there in ten minutes.” He prayed they weren’t already too late.

Mildred was digging in her duffle bag for her mace when she felt the hair on her neck stand up straight. She looked up and sucked in a breath when she saw the man standing next to her bed holding a gun.

“Hello, Mildred,” the man said, “or should I call you sister?”

Mildred studied the man, but didn’t see anything familiar. “You’re no one to me and I’m fine keeping it that way.”

The man sighed. “I wish it could have stayed that way, but Sabine ruined it for everyone.”

Mildred’s mind raced, trying to make sense of what the man was saying. “What does Sabine have to do with any of this?”

“I was just waiting to stake my claim. I finally had the proof I needed after all these years to prove I was William’s rightful heir. I could have left you alone, and you would never have known. But then Sabine turned up—questioning them about the family and the past, convincing them she was related. It was only a matter of time before they met you, and Catherine saw the truth.”

Mildred’s head swam in confusion. “There was a DNA test. Sabine told me.”

The man shifted the gun in his hand, obviously agitated. “Adam was sterile. I read his medical records. There’s no way he fathered a child. Why the Fortescues lied about the results, I don’t know. But they’ll pay—they’ll all pay for what they did. I should have been firstborn. But that’s something I can fix.”

He leveled the gun at her head and pulled a syringe from his shirt pocket. “You’re going to take a nap, little sister. One you won’t wake up from, I’m afraid.” He stepped closer to the bed, needle poised for injection.

Mildred’s heart pounded so hard she thought it would burst. There was no way she could reach her gun. He’d won, even though she’d tried to prepare. She closed her eyes and began to pray.

A whistling noise echoed through the silence, and her entire body went stiff. She wondered for a moment when the pain would come, but suddenly a heavy weight fell across her. Opening her eyes, she saw the man who claimed to be her brother slumped across her, a single bullet hole through his temple. Raissa stood in the doorway, her gun still drawn, the silencer explaining the whistling.

“Who was he?” Mildred asked.

“Martin Alford,” Raissa said as she stepped over to the bed and checked the man’s neck for a pulse. “The Fortescues’ attorney.”

“Was he my brother?”

“Maybe.”

Mildred slumped back on the bed, her pulse still racing. “How did you know? How did you know to come here?”

“I guessed.”

Mildred stared at Raissa for a moment, then let out a single laugh. “That’s one heck of a guess, Raissa.”

Raissa removed her hand from Alford’s neck and sighed. “I was really hoping I was wrong.”

Mildred pulled her gun out from the covers and sat it on the tray next to the bed. “I’m glad you weren’t wrong. It’s over, and we’re all still alive, and that’s the most important thing.”

Raissa glanced at Mildred’s gun and raised her eyebrows. “You knew someone was after you?”

Mildred shook her head. “I guessed.”

Raissa smiled. “That’s one heck of a guess.”

“Make that two of us who hoped we were wrong.”

“Well, being as we were both right, I guess we need to call the police and get this process started before the nurse comes in to take your temperature and has a heart attack.”

Mildred pulled her legs out from under the covers and climbed out of bed. She stuck her hand out toward Raissa. “Give me your gun.”

Raissa stared at her. “What? Why?”

“Honey, I know what hiding looks like and you’ve been at it a long, long time. Are you going to tell me you want the police poking around into your background?”

Raissa’s eyes widened and Mildred placed one hand on her arm. “I don’t know what you’re running from, and I don’t care. I’ve known you for a long time, and you’re a good woman. I know you have good reasons. You and I both know the police won’t even think twice about my shooting a man who came here to kill me. It will all go away in a matter of weeks.”

“I don’t know…what if they guess…how are you going to explain…”

“I won’t explain much of anything. I’m in a hospital, worried for my life, and on drugs—as far as they know.
Give me your gun, Raissa. I figure it’s not registered to you, right? I can always claim I got it from Maryse’s dad years ago. No one will think any different. Bayou men buy and sell this stuff all the time.”

Raissa glanced at Alford then back at Mildred, obviously torn. Finally, she placed her gun in Mildred’s hand. Mildred handed Raissa her own firearm. “I don’t want you without protection, and I figure me toting two guns around might raise some eyebrows. If you wouldn’t mind taking that with you.”

Raissa took the pistol and slipped it in her purse. “Thank you, Mildred. I’ll get this back to you as soon as I replace my old one.”

Mildred waved one hand in dismissal. “Keep it. Mine’s not registered either.” She gave Raissa a wink and the other woman smiled. Mildred lifted the phone, dialed 911, and gave a brief description of the problem. Somehow it didn’t surprise her to find out that Beau Villeneuve had already called the police and they were in route. She hung up the phone with a smile.

“What?” Raissa asked, and Mildred explained to her to Beau had already sent the police.

Raissa smiled and squeezed Mildred’s hand with her own. “The house of cards is crumbling.”

Mildred grinned. “We better get your prints off that gun, get mine on it, and call for the nurse. Tell her someone died in here and it damned sure wasn’t me.” Mildred reached for the phone as Maryse strolled into the room, wrestling with a cardboard coffee tray.

“Sorry it took so long,” Maryse said, still looking down at the tray. “There was an incredible line down there and—” She looked up and saw Mildred standing next to the bed, pistol still in her hand, and the dead man slumped over her hospital bed.

All the color washed out of Maryse’s face and the tray of coffee crashed to the floor, Maryse following closely behind. Mildred looked down at her and shook her head. “Sure, someone tries to kill her and she runs out of the hotel barefoot and not wearing underwear. Sometimes tries to kill me and she’s a shrinking violet.”

Raissa grinned. “Well, maybe we should get ‘Violet’ off the floor before the police get here.”

Sabine bit her lip as Beau tore into the hospital parking lot and screeched to a stop in front of the main entry. They both jumped out and ran past a startled nurse who yelled after them. It seemed by unspoken mutual decision they both decided the stairs were the best choice, because neither even slowed as they passed the elevator. Sabine skidded on the polished floor as they burst out of the stairwell and onto Mildred’s floor, but there was barely a pause before she picked up speed again and dashed down the hallway after Beau.

She saw him pull his gun from his waistband, and she pulled her own pistol from her purse and dropped the bag in the hallway. They rounded the last corner and burst into Mildred’s room, guns blazing and ready to do some serious damage.

“Good heavens!” Mildred looked at the doorway as they burst into the room.

It took less than a second for Sabine to take it all in—Martin, dead on Mildred’s bed, and Raissa standing over a white-faced Maryse, fanning her with a bedpan. She paused only long enough to click on the safety on her pistol, then rushed over to Mildred and wrapped her arms around the woman who had raised her and crushed her in a hug.

Mildred squeezed her back and rubbed her hands up and down Sabine’s back, just the way she used to do when Sabine was upset as a child. “It’s fine, honey. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

Sabine felt the tears surface and didn’t even bother to try holding them in as she released Mildred and looked her in the eyes. “This has been the single most horrifying and terrifying day of my entire life.”

“Tell me about it,” Maryse mumbled.

Sabine looked over at her best friend and smiled. “Should I even ask?”

Raissa shook her head. “No, but it’s worth a year of bribes later on.”

Mildred cocked her head to one side and studied Sabine for a moment. “When I called the police, they said you’d already dispatched them here. How did you know?”

Sabine blew out a breath. “I found a bunch of papers in Martin’s briefcase. They tied everything together. You were the one in danger all along, although I’m sure he would’ve come after me next. He was insane and obsessed with his quest.”

“Is he my brother?”

Sabine nodded. “I think so.”

“And you? Why did that man say you weren’t Adam’s child?”

“Because I’m not. Frances was my mother. Adam and his wife took me to save me from the Fortescues and oh, hell, it’s a long screwed-up story that I’d rather explain after a hot bath and at least ten hours of sleep.”

Mildred nodded and gave her another hug. “Of course, dear. What a shame. Like either of us cared about the Fortescues or their money.”

“You might have to start caring,” Sabine said.

“I’ll deal with that when William dies.”

Sabine glanced over at Beau, then looked back at Mildred. “You’re right. No use inviting trouble.”

“You’re one to talk.” Mildred glanced over at Beau, then back at Sabine, a smile on her face. “If you could have just seen the two of you, busting in here like something out of a movie.” She leaned close to Sabine and whispered, “The two of you together looked right.”

BOOK: Mischief in Mudbug
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