The Dead Heat of Summer: A Krewe of Hunters Novella

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The Dead Heat of Summer: A Krewe of Hunters Novella Page 9

by Heather Graham

“You’ve seen my sister, right? Her spirit or...ghost?”

  “I—yes,” Casey said.

  “And now I’ve seen her, too, Stephanie,” Ryder said. “We are going to solve Lena’s murder.”

  Stephanie smiled. “I know you will. Just do so quickly, please. Okay? I’m going nuts here.”

  This time, she continued up the stairs.

  Ryder looked at Casey.

  “Come on up. I’ll give you the Blue Room. Goes with your eyes.” He winked.

  “Great. I’m all into matching,” Casey said dryly.

  He carried her bag and led the way. The Blue Room was in the west wing, across from another guest room—the Gold Room in his case. All the rooms were named for colors except for the master suite—which had a plaque on it that said: Master Suite.

  No one was in it now. Stephanie wouldn’t sleep where her sister had died.

  But Stephanie was in the baby’s room, also in the west wing.

  He liked being near those he was watching over.

  Even with a trusted guard on duty.

  Even with the elaborate system he’d installed.

  “Blue Room,” he said, opening the door and leading Casey in. The carpet and drapes were navy blue, the bed covering a softer pale blue.

  “It is—blue,” she said.

  “I think it’s probably comfortable—”

  “Oh, no. It’s lovely. I was just noting that it is well, blue.”

  He grinned at her. “Bathroom is right there to the side. The old man had all the old dressing rooms turned into bathrooms. Elijah.” He hesitated and shrugged. “He was a good man. Anyway, you’re welcome to prowl the kitchen below if you get hungry. I’m across the hall in the Gold Room if you should need anything. Or if you’d like something, I can get it for you now.”

  “No, I’m going to try to sleep, thanks.”

  “Okay, then.”

  He looked at her for a moment. He’d just met her. She’d angered him to no end when he thought her a fraud.

  And now...

  He liked her. Really liked her. And that was…unexpected.

  He noticed how her hair fell around her face in soft waves. How her eyes studied everything intensely. She was thoughtful and quick-witted. Smart and intuitive.

  And he’d seen her in a bikini. Ryder smiled at the memory.

  But he’d put her into extreme danger. Unless she had already done that to herself.

  It didn’t matter. This was no time for his instinctive sex drive to kick in.

  “Good night, then,” he said quickly. “Um, just amble down to the kitchen in the morning whenever you like.”

  “Thank you,” she told him.

  He smiled and closed the door behind him, hurrying to his room.

  He had worried so much when he first arrived. He hadn’t wanted to leave Stephanie and the baby alone.

  People would know about William Marley’s exhumation.

  His presence had been required at the cemetery. And before that...

  He’d been so angry when Stephanie had thought a quack medium had come to her. He’d taken off, trusting in Greg Farley, the morning shift guard, to keep the home safe.

  Hovering at the house wouldn’t solve anything.

  But...

  He’d seen one of his prime suspects studying Casey’s shop. And there had been someone in the bushes at her home when she was out alone in the pool. She’d known it—and Lena had known it.

  And now, he knew what had happened from Lena herself.

  He decided to put a call through. He could get help when he needed it.

  And he needed it now.

  * * * *

  The bed was amazingly comfortable. She’d brought her own things, but she felt as if she were staying in a hotel room. Anything anyone might desire was available in the bathroom, from toothpaste to soap, to shampoo, conditioner, and a hairdryer.

  She wondered if—in the past—company executives had stayed at the mansion. Or if they were due to come again.

  Not anytime soon, she imagined.

  Despite the luxury of her accommodations, she lay awake.

  She wondered if Lena would show up, but she didn’t. Maybe she was as polite in death as she was in life and not about to disturb anyone trying to sleep.

  Casey still couldn’t believe that she was here. Even after the shock of seeing and accepting Lena Marceau as a ghost, she had never expected a day like today. And the last thing she wanted to do was think about the strange ghost-seeing FBI agent, who had come into her life like an exploding volcano—and become her most curious ally.

  As she had become his.

  She stared at the dark ceiling, remembering his voice. The way he stood, the way he’d held her when she burst into her apartment building, dripping...

  How he hadn’t minded giving her a real apology, or the fact that he took her safety so seriously.

  She was a link to Lena—and Lena’s killer.

  Still...

  She liked him. Too much. She was thinking about him in many ways...

  Too much.

  Finally, she turned on the television and fell asleep at last to a rerun of Cheers.

  She woke late, at least for her. It was almost eight o’clock. For a minute, she blinked and then remembered her surroundings and why she was there. She rose, showered, dug into her little bag, and dressed for the day.

  It was still so damned hot. She had brought—ironically, she thought—a blue halter dress and a black sweater to wear when the air-conditioning kicked in.

  Jared and Lauren really liked to blast it at the shop.

  Ready for the day, she left her room and hurried downstairs to the kitchen, where she found Ryder and Stephanie and the baby.

  Annette was in her highchair, playing with her cereal as much as eating it. The highchair was pulled up to a small kitchen table. Stephanie was on one side, Ryder on the other.

  Apparently, Annette loved to say, “Hi!” because she greeted Casey with the word and a big smile and then said, “Hi!” again.

  “Hi, you,” Casey said, ruffling the little girl’s hair.

  Annette took her hand.

  “Good morning. Did you sleep all right?” Stephanie asked her.

  “Yes, thank you. The room is lovely.”

  Ryder was on the phone with someone, and he lifted a hand and gave her a smile, indicating he’d be off soon.

  “Coffee?” Stephanie asked.

  “I would love some. Can I do anything? You don’t need to wait on me.”

  “No, no—the pot is right there. I’m not much of a cook. I’m afraid breakfast is cereal or toaster waffles.”

  “Cereal is great, thank you,” Casey said.

  Her cell phone rang as Stephanie poured her a cup of coffee. She excused herself and dug into her purse for her mobile.

  It was Miss Lilly. She winced. She should have told her concerned neighbor that she’d be away.

  “I’m so sorry, Miss Lilly. I’m fine. Just staying with a friend.”

  Ryder had finished his call and was looking at her.

  “Oh, don’t apologize, darling,” Miss Lilly said. “Joe and I are delighted you apparently spent the night with that tall, dark, and devilishly handsome fellow. I’ve been telling you for ages you can’t just work and read and swim. I mean, I love swimming, but—”

  Casey wanted to sink under the table. Lilly was speaking loudly, and Casey was sure Ryder could hear every word.

  “I mean, you’re a young, lovely thing. Sweet as molasses, too. Oh, wait, not sticky sweet. I mean, you have a mind on you, and you’re smart, too. But everyone needs a sex life,” Lilly said with a giggle. “Even oldsters.”

  Casey knew she visibly winced.

  “Joe and I...we just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “I’m fine, Miss Lilly. I may be away for a few days.”

  “Ah, you little scamp. You have fun! Life is short. You’ll have to tell me all about it when I see you next.”

  “Um...su
re, of course. Miss Lilly, I have to get back to—”

  “Oh, get back to it. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Ryder was laughing. The baby was giggling, and even Stephanie must have heard Lilly because she was smiling, too.

  “I’m so sorry,” Casey said, explaining to Stephanie. “One of my neighbors. She’s a sweetheart, worrying about me, really. And I...I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, what are you sorry for? It’s nice that a neighbor cares,” Stephanie said.

  Ryder had a smirk on his face. He passed her the box of cereal as Stephanie set down a bowl and a cup of coffee.

  “It is nice,” he said. “She apparently likes us both. And me, from just meeting her at her main door.”

  Stephanie smiled and joined them again as she looked at Casey. “Have you seen Lena this morning? She must have liked you very much. I mean, Annette likes you.”

  “I haven’t seen her this morning. But...I know how she loved you and appreciates you,” Casey said earnestly.

  “Well, I hope she comes to the house sometime,” Stephanie said softly. “I want her to know how much I love her—will always love her. She was my only sibling. It feels like a part of me was cut away. I’m so grateful I have Annette. And so scared.”

  “Stephanie—” Ryder began.

  They were cut short by the buzzer.

  “That’s Jackson,” Ryder said, pushing his chair back. “Excuse me. I’ll just let him in.”

  He left the kitchen to answer the intercom and open the gate.

  “Jackson?” Casey said to Stephanie.

  “Jackson Crow, Ryder’s field director. He’s going to hang with the baby and me today.”

  “Oh,” Casey said and smiled. “Um, nice.”

  Stephanie laughed. “Jackson is great. He’s six-foot-something of Native American and Irish and incredibly good-looking. And married. Very married, with two kids, and a spectacular wife who manages and juggles the Krewe of Hunters. You’d be amazed by some of the strange activities that go on around the country.” She was quiet for a minute. “And the departed who stay because they need help or need to help someone else. Like Lena,” she added softly. She squared her shoulders then and stood ready to meet the newcomer.

  Annette started to cry, wanting out of her chair. Casey instinctively went to get her and remembered that Stephanie was her guardian. She asked, “May I?”

  “Oh, please. I miss her little daycare most of all in this insanity of being so careful. She needs more fun than I can really supply.”

  Casey rescued the baby, who wanted to run out of the kitchen and to the door. She moved like lightning, but Casey kept up.

  Ryder introduced her to Jackson Crow, who seemed to be everything Stephanie had said.

  He was also good with children, saying, “Hi,” to Annette in answer to her every “Hi!”

  He studied Casey and was friendly and cordial, thanking her for being there.

  “What a way to come into this,” he said. “But then, it never is easy.”

  “We’re going to head to the French Quarter,” Ryder told him. “Casey opens the shop at ten, so I guess we need to get going. Bobby O’Hara is in the library now, keeping an eye on the video screens. Come in there for just a minute. I’ll introduce you.”

  Annette raced after Ryder and Jackson, and Stephanie and Casey raced after Annette. Annette ran to the corner to play with some books. Jackson and Casey were both introduced to Bobby O’Hara, another of Ryder’s old friends. Bobby, in contrast to Arnie Benson, had a full head of white hair and a cavalier mustache.

  Casey greeted him pleasantly, but as she spoke, her eyes wandered around the handsome library before stopping to hear what was being said.

  There was a row of pictures on the wall.

  “Are you all right, Casey?” Ryder asked.

  “Um, sorry. Who are those men?” she asked.

  “They’re all on the board of directors,” Stephanie supplied.

  “Why?” Ryder asked Casey.

  “I—I’ve seen them. Two of them, anyway. They’ve been in my shop.”

  Chapter 6

  Casey stared at the pictures.

  Yes, she had seen two of the men. She walked toward the photos on the side wall. A desk sat against that wall, while the rest of the walls were filled with shelves and books—other than the security nook Ryder had created.

  Above the desk hung a sign that read: Past and present leaders of Marceau Industries Incorporated. We thank them.

  “They came to the shop when? Who came? Which men?”

  Casey pointed to two of the pictures. One was of an older man, another of a man about forty. They hadn’t come in together. They had come in at different times.

  “That’s Barton Quincy, the new CEO. And that’s his assistant, Larry Swenson,” Ryder said. He caught her gently by the shoulders and turned her around to face him.

  “Casey, when did they come in? Did they see you...with Lena?”

  She shook her head. “They were both in before I saw Lena in the shop. I mean, Lena’s ghost. They were in that night, though. They both bought a few things and talked about a reading.”

  Ryder released her and then paused. His eyes were on the wall, focused on a section that included past leaders of the company.

  “Ryder?” she said.

  He pointed to another picture. “That’s William Marley. The man we had exhumed, whose cremains are being studied in Mississippi.”

  “Oh,” she murmured.

  “We’re still waiting on results, but tests take time, especially when you’re dealing with a corpse that has been...”

  “Baking in the Louisiana sun,” Stephanie supplied.

  “To put it gently, yes,” Ryder said. “Jackson—”

  “Angela has done extensive background checks on every man on the board,” Jackson said. “Nothing in the paperwork helps. Justin Marceau was busted as a kid for pot. Larry Swenson had a lot of parking tickets. Expensive, but a far cry from premeditated murder. Harry Miller didn’t even have a traffic infraction against him. After a month of searching, the only thing she could discover was the unusual way that William Marley died. Suffering from a sudden heart attack without having any problems with heart disease at all.”

  “Stephanie, I think you need to call a board meeting,” Ryder said.

  “But I—I don’t know anything. I approve or deny decisions as the baby’s trust officer, but I don’t know much. I was never a businessperson. The only thing I ever knew was that both Anthony and Lena were passionate about keeping the price of life-saving drugs down as much as possible. And I believed it was all just a formality, naming me as Annette’s legal guardian. Anthony and Lena were young. I never thought it could really happen. I heard Anthony arguing with one of the men once. I don’t even know which one. He said that, yes, you had to pay staff and have laboratories, but they didn’t need to make a lot of money off prescriptions that people need for heart conditions or diabetes or other such diseases. Anthony said he wasn’t going to make money off the lives of others.”

  “It’s okay. You’ll just call the meeting to make sure the company can make money in other ways. Slight increases on their organic vitamins and other such items,” Ryder said. “That will be it. The meeting will be to make everyone understand that you—as Annette’s guardian—will veto any suggestion of a price increase in new or old drugs. Elijah was a smart old geezer. He created the board but kept ultimate control on all aspects. And that authority has now passed down to you and Annette. You can just say you’re calling the meeting to make sure everyone knows the direction the company will be taking, and Marceau Industries Incorporated will honor the wishes of Elijah, Anthony, and Lena.”

  “Okay, but I don’t think I can call a meeting for today. I believe Justin is in Biloxi, speaking with a chemist they want to hire,” Stephanie said. “And I have no idea if the other guys are in the office or not.”

  “Tomorrow will be fine. For now, I’ll head to the French Quarter with Casey, a
nd Jackson will stay here and get some work done,” Ryder said. He glanced at Jackson, and knew the man would have Angela dig deeper into every possible—and impossible—resource to find out more about Barton Quincy and Larry Swenson.”

  Casey looked at them all with a frown. “Wouldn’t Justin be the one to benefit if...if he were the one who—?”

  “Was around if something happened to me and Annette?” Stephanie said. “No, that’s the odd thing. If something happens to both of us and there are only four board members left, it’s an equal split. Elijah just wasn’t close to Justin. When Justin asked for a job, he gave it to him. But he only got a position because he was a Marceau, and Elijah couldn’t let a family member have nothing. So, he worked with Justin, and Justin does have a charming personality. It turned out he wasn’t so bad when it came to marketing, advertising, and especially, personal appearances,” she finished.

  “I need to get to the shop,” Casey murmured. “I open today.”

  “Okay, we’re out,” Ryder said.

  “And we’ll be on it from any angle we can find,” Jackson assured him.

  Ryder looked at Casey. “Time to get you to work.”

  “You’re coming to work with me?”

  He paused to let her see the seriousness of his words. “I’ll be in or near the shop all day.”

  Her eyes rounded at his unspoken message. “You think someone might come after me. In a shop in the French Quarter?”

  “I think someone will be watching you, and I want to see who. Also, with the meeting tomorrow, we may get something. And we should get some lab results back from the M.E. over in Mississippi. So for now...I’m your constant companion,” Ryder said.

  He was curious to see if she would object.

  She didn’t. She just glanced at her watch.

  “Then we should get going.”

  * * * *

  It was interesting, Casey thought, bringing Ryder into the shop with her, especially after what had happened the morning before. In the hours since, she had gotten to know him...

  And it was strange that in the short time they’d spent together, she somehow felt ridiculously close to him.

  Of course, he might end up saving her life. He was security.

 

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