by Jana DeLeon
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 expre
ssion 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.
“Why?” Sabine asked. “We’ve got the books.”
“I forgot something,” Helena said. “What does it matter? Remember that whole ‘rule’ discussion we had?”
Sabine sighed and motioned for Maryse to pull into the drive. Maryse shook her head and muttered, “This feels way too familiar.”
Helena rolled her eyes and jumped out of the car as soon as Maryse stopped. “Back in a minute,” she said as she started off across the lawn to the huge home next to her own estate.
Sabine sat us straight in her seat. “Where’s she going? That’s not her house, or her garage, or her boat house.”
“You think I don’t know this?” Maryse shot back. “That’s Lois Cormier’s house.”
“What could Helena possibly want there?”
“I don’t know but I’m positive it’s not going to be good.”
Ten minutes later, Helena still hadn’t emerged from the house. Sabine looked over at Maryse, who was alternating between looking at the house and checking her mirrors for visitors. “I think we should leave,” Sabine said. “We have the books and Helena can find her own way to the hotel.”
“You’re right,” Maryse agreed and started the car.
“Wait!” Sabine said before Maryse could put the car in gear. “I think the front door’s opening.”
“Oh, no,” Maryse whispered. “I hope the alarm isn’t on.”
“Get out of here. Now!”
Maryse put the car in reverse just as the front door of the house flew open and Helena came running out dragging an enormous garbage bag, stuffed to the brim. “Hurry up!” Helena yelled. “That alarm is going to go off any second.”
“Crap, crap, crap,” Maryse said as she threw the car in drive and floored it. “I thought I was done with this nonsense.”
“Just leave her,” Sabine said as she scanned the neighborhood, hoping to God no one had seen them yet.
“That will only make things worse, trust me,” Maryse said as she screeched to a stop next to Helena. The ghost yanked open the car door and lifted the bag just high enough to get it onto the floorboard before she jumped in herself, slammed the door, and collapsed on the backseat. Maryse floored the car and they were pulling out of the driveway before the alarm went off.
Sabine glanced over at Maryse, who was slumped as far down in the driver’s seat as she could be and still see over the steering wheel. If dealing with Helena wasn’t so aggravating, it might have been funny. Maryse had been driving the same rental car ever since she and her truck had taken an unexpected dip in the bayou weeks before. Everyone in Mudbug knew it was her just by seeing the car, so unless she was planning on reporting it stolen, hiding while driving wasn’t really going to get her anywhere.
They pulled onto the highway and were a good mile down the road before a cop car came racing past in the opposite direction. Maryse let out a huge breath that she’d probably been holding for the last t
wo miles and sat up a little straighter in her seat.
“Helena!” Sabine yelled at the ghost, who was laid out on the back seat like she was having a heart attack. “What in the world was so important that you risked getting us arrested? And it better be good.”
“It’s a surprise,” Helena said, but the guilty look on her face gave her away.
Sabine reached over the seat and grabbed the trash bag, which was surprisingly heavy. She yanked the bag over the car seat, its contents clanking and rattling. “What did you steal? Their silver?” She opened the bag and looked inside, then groaned.
“I’m afraid to ask,” Maryse said.
“It’s food! She broke into someone’s house to raid their pantry.” Sabine looked back at Helena. “This is low, even for you. How could you justify stealing food when you don’t even need to eat?”
Helena sat up in the seat. “Lois is on a cruise for the next two weeks. The food would have gone bad and been thrown away. What’s the big deal?”
Sabine reached into the bag and pulled out a can of sweet potatoes. “This expires two years from now.”
“Oh, sorry. I must have accidentally picked up that can.”
“Bull, Helena. You went through that woman’s pantry and took whatever you wanted. You have an eating disorder and need to get help.” Sabine clutched her head with both hands. “Oh, God, I cannot believe I just said that to a dead person.”
“I can,” Maryse said. “I gave up on logic weeks ago.”
Helena glared at Sabine. “Have you seen Lois Cormier’s ass? Trust me, I’m doing her a favor.”
Sabine threw her hands in the air and turned back around in her seat. “I give up. You know, I thought a time or two that if you weren’t already dead, I would take on the job. Now, I’m just wondering if it’s not safer and a heck of a lot more peaceful if whoever’s trying to kill me is successful. Whatever afterlife there is has to be less aggravating than this.”
Maryse shook her head. “I thought that, too, but then I was afraid if the killer was successful but didn’t get caught, that I’d just be stuck in limbo with Helena.”