by Jana DeLeon
“You’re thinking of Hank,” Helena said, and gave her a shrewd look. “Of course I thought of him, but I don’t think that’s the answer.”
Maryse started to open her mouth in protest, but Helena held up one finger to silence her. “I’m certain he won’t be sad to hear I’m dead. But quite frankly, Hank lacks the brains to carry out something like this. If he ever tried to poison someone, he’d never think to use something the coroner wouldn’t detect. He’d probably go straight for rat poison or whatever was closest.”
Maryse studied Helena’s face carefully, trying to discern whether she was being sincere or sarcastic. She couldn’t find any evidence of sarcasm. Well, that hung it all. If Helena was talking trash about Hank, the woman was most certainly dead.
Oh, how a little murder changed everything.
“Okay,” Maryse said, chasing away the great visual of Hank Henry rotting away in a prison cell. “What about Harold?”
“Hmm.” Helena scrunched her brow in concentration. “It usually is the spouse, especially when there’s money involved. But as far as Harold’s concerned, I was worth more alive than dead. With the bequests I left to various people and organizations, he actually comes out on the short end of the stick, and he’s probably known that for a long time.”
Maryse threw her hands in the air. “Well, if you’ve got a logical reason for why Hank or Harold aren’t guilty, then I don’t know why you bothered to come here. I obviously don’t have the mentality to think like a killer.” She took a deep breath and rushed on before she could change her mind. “I don’t think I can help you, Helena.”
There. It was out in the open. She bit her lower lip and looked at Helena, hoping she would politely agree and go away.
Helena gave her a withering look and shook her head. “Sorry. You have something I need.”
Maryse felt her breath catch in her throat. Helena already had something in mind, and Maryse knew with complete certainty she didn’t want to hear a word of it. “What in the world could I possibly have that you need?” She waved one hand around the one-bedroom cabin. “This is all I have in the world besides my truck. A camp in the middle of the bayou.”
Helena looked at her with sad eyes that seemed to go straight to her soul. “That’s not true. You’re alive. You can touch things, move things. I can’t. And you’re the only one who can see me.”
Maryse narrowed her eyes at Helena. “What do you mean you can’t touch or move things? You got here, and the only way to get to my place is by boat.”
Helena’s eyes lit up. “I know. That’s been the only interesting part about death so far. I stood at the bank thinking about how to get over here. Finally, I decided to borrow one of the small aluminum boats parked at the dock, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get a grip on anything. My hands just passed right through everything like it wasn’t even there.”
“So how exactly did you get here?”
Helena beamed. “I walked on water. I finally figured what the hell, if Jesus did it, I would give it whirl. So I stepped off the pier onto the bayou and voilà—I could walk on water.”
Maryse stared at her in dismay. This was the start of the Revelation…she was positive. If Helena Henry could walk on water, Maryse was absolutely sure He was on His way back to claim His own.
Well, that sealed it. Church this Sunday was no longer an option. She had some serious praying to do.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
About The Author
Other Books
Bonus Excerpt: Trouble In Mudbug