Trouble In Mudbug

by Jana DeLeon

  She liked to believe the answer was no, but the reality was that Hank Henry had charmed the pants off darn near every girl in town at some time or another. But none of them had been stupid enough to marry him. She frowned at her shortsightedness and shook her head as Sabine slid into the chair across from her, the bracelets on her arm clinking together like wind chimes.

  “Did you order drinks already?” Sabine asked and brushed the bangs from her eyes.

  “Yeah, I got you a glass of wine.”

  Sabine gave her a grateful look. “Thanks. It’s been one of those weeks.”

  Maryse smiled. Oh yeah, honey. Wait until you hear about my week. Yours has to look better after that. “I haven’t had the best week myself. In fact, that’s what I wanted to talk with you about.”

  “I was worried when I didn’t hear from you this afternoon,” Sabine said, “but then I didn’t really know how long the will-reading would take. Is that the problem…something to do with Helena’s will?”

  “Sorta.” Maryse inclined her head toward Johnny, who was on his way across the bar with a tray of drinks, and Sabine nodded in understanding. She waited until Johnny had delivered the drinks, did his old-man flirting routine with Sabine, and shuffled back behind the bar before she got down to business.

  “Hank didn’t show, but the reading was very interesting,” Maryse said and proceeded to tell Sabine all the events of the morning, from her truck wreck to the list of equipment she was going to buy with her lease money.

  Sabine hung on every word, laughing at some points and gasping at others. “Good Lord!” Sabine said when Maryse finished her tale. “What a day. Makes my entire life look simple and boring.”

  “And that’s not all. In fact, as screwed up as all that is, that’s not even what’s really worrying me.”

  Sabine stared. “You’re kidding me. There’s more?”

  Maryse took a deep breath and pushed forward. “This is going to sound ridiculous, but I have to ask you a question. And I need you to answer me in all seriousness.”

  “Wow. This must be heavy. You know I’d never hedge things with you, Maryse. Ask me whatever you need to. I’ll give you an honest answer.”

  Maryse studied her friend for a moment. Finally, she took a deep breath and said, “I need to know why a ghost would appear to someone when other people can’t see it.”

  Sabine stared at her for a moment, then slowly blinked.

  “Well, based on everything I’ve ever read or heard about, unless you’re a conduit, a ghost will appear if you have something to do with them.”

  “A conduit—you mean like that kid in The Sixth Sense?”

  “Exactly. Conduits are able to see a lot of ghosts, even if they’ve never met them before.”

  “Okay. So if someone sees a ghost and they’re not a conduit, why would the ghost appear to them?”

  Sabine scrunched her brow and gave her a hard look. Maryse gave her friend points for not reaching across the table to take her temperature. This had to be the very last thing Sabine would have expected from her.

  Finally, Sabine cleared her throat and continued. “The commonly accepted theory on hauntings is that unless the ghost is stuck in a certain place, like a house or something, it’s out walking about because of unfinished business or because it doesn’t know it’s dead.”

  “Unfinished business—like a murder?”

  Sabine’s eyes widened. “Certainly being murdered might cause someone’s essence to stick around this world. Justice is a very powerful emotion. It sometimes overrides even death.”

  Maryse nodded and considered everything for a moment. “So how does the ghost pick who it will appear to?”

  Sabine shook her head, a puzzled expression on her face. “I don’t think the ghost has any say. I think it’s visible to someone who’s supposed to help and that’s it. If the ghost got to pick, then it would just appear to whoever killed it and slowly drive the murderer off the deep end. It couldn’t be much fun being hounded by a ghost.”

  Maryse nodded. You think?

  Sabine reached across the table and placed her hand on Maryse’s. “Where is all this going, exactly? This kind of stuff is so far beyond your usual fare that you’re really starting to worry me. I mean, first you want to attend that horrible woman’s funeral, then that weird inheritance, and now this?”

  Before she could change her mind, Maryse leaned forward and looked Sabine straight in the eyes. “What would you say if I told you that I’ve seen Helena Henry—walking, talking, and still very dead?”

  Sabine stared at her for a moment, obviously waiting for the punch line. When one never came, she removed her hand from Maryse’s, completely drained her wineglass and sat it back on the table, her hands shaking slightly. “Helena Henry appeared to you?”

  Maryse nodded and told her all about her first sighting of Helena at the funeral and her subsequent visit to her cabin, then the disastrous will reading. She left off the breaking and entering part of her day. Sabine already had enough to absorb.

  “Murdered?” Sabine sat up straight as she finished her tall tale.

  “That’s what she says.”

  Sabine inclined her head and tapped a long, black nail on the table. “Well, if she says it’s so, it probably is. I mean, what would be the point of lying now? Besides, if she’s still hanging around, then there’s obviously a problem.”

  “That’s great to know and all, and very unfortunate for Helena, but why do I have to be involved in this? Why me?”

  Sabine gave her a small smile. “Hardly seems fair, right? The most horrible human being you’ve encountered in your entire life, and now she shows up after death. What are the odds?”

  “I don’t even want to know. I just want to get rid of her.”

  Sabine turned her palms up and shrugged. “I don’t think you can get rid of her until you figure out who killed her. It sounds like that’s the problem.”

  “But I don’t care who killed her.”

  Sabine shook her head and gave her a sad look. “That’s not true, and you know it. You’re the fairest person I know. Don’t tell me it doesn’t bother you that Helena was murdered. I’m not buying it.”

  “Unbelievable. I barely tolerate the living and now I have to be associated with the dead?” Maryse sighed and slumped back in her chair. “Okay, so maybe the fact that she was murdered bothers me…a little. But what am I supposed to do about it? I’m not the police. I’m a botanist. Studying plants does not exactly equip one to solve a murder.”

  “I don’t think you were selected because of your crime-solving skills,” Sabine said, her expression thoughtful.

  “Then why would the forces of the universe select me at all?”

  “I don’t know. But you must be tied into everything. Maybe it’s something to do with the game preserve.”

  Maryse groaned. “Are you sure?” This just kept sounding worse.

  “I don’t see any other explanation. Maybe the next time you see Helena, you ought to ask her.”

  “Yeah, right, like she’s been forthcoming so far,” Maryse said. “Besides, Helena was as shocked as I was that I could see her. I’m sure of that. So if she’s visible to me for a reason, why didn’t she say so?”

  Sabine narrowed her eyes. “Helena may not have expected your ability to see her, but she knows good and well what she’s gotten you into. There’s something she’s not telling you, and you can bet if it involves Helena Henry, it’s not going to be pretty.”

  Maryse woke up the next morning in the Mudbug Hotel with a headache to beat the band. It had been late by the time she had finished explaining the entire Helena disaster to Sabine, and even longer before Sabine had managed to absorb it all. Once her friend had been able to breathe normally again, she’d given Maryse tons of good advice both for Helena and how to get rid of Helena. It was around midnight when they’d left Johnny’s, and the late hour coupled with the fact that Helena might be at her cabin waiting had sent Maryse straight to the hotel
for the night.

  Maryse pulled on her clothes, trying to figure out how to leave the hotel without running into Mildred again. Exhausted as she’d been, she hadn’t gotten to bed without sharing the saga of her wild day—well, everything except Helena. That was a bit too wild even for Mildred. And right now she didn’t really feel up for any more lectures or discussion.

  Her hopes were dashed when she found Mildred in the lobby instead of her office. The hotel owner was standing in the front lobby peering between the front window blinds. Her gray hair pointed in fifty different directions, and her long red nails made a sharp contrast with the bright white blinds.

  “What’s so interesting?” Maryse asked, and Mildred jumped, then cast a guilty look back.

  “Nothing.”

  “You were concentrating pretty hard on nothing.” Maryse stepped over to the window and lifted a slat to look outside. Downtown wasn’t exactly bustling yet; it was still too early, but it was easy to see what had caught Mildred’s attention. Luc LeJeune was bending over the newspaper machine outside of the café, and the hotel offered the perfect rear shot angle.

  Maryse looked back at Mildred. “You really ought to take another look. He’s bending over now.”

  “Really?” Mildred yanked the cord on the blinds, and they flipped open, allowing both of them a full view of the street. The hotel owner looked across the street just as Luc stood and turned, allowing her a full front view. She clutched one hand over her heart. “Lord have mercy. That has got to be the best-looking man I have even seen in person.”

  Maryse held in a sigh. Like she needed any more reminders of just how attractive Luc was. “Mildred, I’m surprised at you.”

  Mildred turned to stare at her. “Are you kidding me? Only a woman with no pulse or the taste for women could look at that man and not wish to be younger, hotter, and in really good shape.” She looked back out the window as Luc walked toward the café door. “The things I could do with that.”

  Now Maryse did sigh. She didn’t want to think about doing things to “that” and damned sure couldn’t afford to think about Luc doing things to her.

  Mildred turned from the window and stared at Maryse with a critical eye. “It’s official then—you died two years ago when that stupid Hank left, and you’ve been a walking corpse ever since.” Mildred shook her head. “I know you’ve got a lot going on. Hell, you babbled for an hour after you staggered in here at midnight high on pain killers. The will, the money, your missing husband. Things are really weird, and I get that, but Maryse, when a woman fails to appreciate a man like that, well, she might as well hang up her bra.”

  “It’s not that I failed to notice him. It’s more like I already know him, and his type, so the new has worn off the butt-looking festival.”

  Mildred’s eyebrows rose. “You know him?”

  Maryse shrugged. “Yeah. He’s a zoologist for the state, and he’s set up shop in my office. Apparently we’re going to be sharing space for a while.”

  Mildred reached into her shirt pocket, pulled out her inhaler, and took a quick puff. “You’re sharing an office with Adonis? No wonder you’re exhausted.”

  “It’s not like that. It’s work, and he’s a total playboy and sorta annoying. Besides, I’m still married, remember?”

  “Hmmpf. Some marriage. I’m thinking God would probably give you a pass on finding someone else since He hasn’t bothered to produce Hank in the past two years. Maybe since you never manage to leave the bayou, God just brought a man to you.”

  Maryse rubbed her temple, thinking this conversation was way worse than the one she’d originally been trying to avoid and the biggest reason she preferred not to leave the bayou. “I’m sure that’s it, Mildred. God sent me a man. Anyway, I really need to get going. I’ve got a ton of work to do today, so if I could just get some coffee and some aspirin, I can get on my way.”

  “The aspirin are in the cabinet, same as usual, but my coffeepot broke yesterday, and I haven’t had time to get a new one.” Mildred paused for a second, then smiled. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. We could step across the street to the café and have coffee and a muffin. I haven’t had more than a ten-minute phone call from you in months. You can grace me with a half hour of your presence.”

  Bullshit. Maryse knew good and well why Mildred wanted to have breakfast at the café, and it had nothing to do with Maryse’s less-than-stellar visitation record. Not that Maryse could really remember the last time she’d spent any quality time with Mildred, but that wasn’t the point. Even though Mildred was trying to be sneaky and deceitful and conniving, Maryse couldn’t say no to the woman who had dated her dad for over twenty years and practically raised her.

  Maybe Luc would be so engrossed in his newspaper and his breakfast that she could slip in and out without a huge production. “Fine,” Maryse said finally. “But we have to make it fast. I really do have a ton of stuff to do today.”

  Mildred practically ran to her office to grab her purse and some aspirin for Maryse, then rushed them both out the door. They had barely stepped inside the café when Maryse heard Luc call her name. So much for slipping in and out.

  Mildred paused for a millisecond, but when it was clear that Maryse wasn’t going to move, the hotel owner turned and headed straight toward the smiling zoologist. She stopped at Luc’s table, Maryse in tow like a petulant teenager. “You must be Luc, the new zoologist,” Mildred said. “I’m Mildred, and I own the hotel across the street. Maryse has been telling me all about you.”

  Maryse felt a flush run up her neck, and she fought the desperate urge to flee from the café as if on fire. Luc looked over at her and smiled. “All about me, huh? I didn’t think you’d noticed.”

  Maryse waved a hand in dismissal and tried to sound nonchalant. “She’s exaggerating. I barely know anything to tell, much less all.”

  Mildred slid into the chair next to Luc and motioned for Maryse to sit across from them. “Well,” Mildred said, “we’ve got some time. You can tell us all about yourself over breakfast.” Mildred waved at the waitress for coffee, then turned back to Luc. “So, are you married?”

  Maryse downed the aspirin with a huge gulp of water and willed herself to disappear.

  “No,” Luc said.

  “Girlfriend?” Mildred pressed.

  “Not even close.” Luc grinned.

  Mildred narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re not gay, are you?”

  “Hell, no!”

  “Thank God,” Mildred said under her breath, but Maryse was certain Luc heard every word by the way his lips quivered with a smile. Maryse searched her mind for a way to stop the freight train of humiliation when Mildred rose from the table. “I just remembered I need to finish the books from last night,” the hotel owner said.

  Maryse stared. “You close the books every night at nine.”

  Mildred waved a hand in dismissal but didn’t meet Maryse’s eyes. “I went to bed early last night. There was a special on Lifetime I wanted to catch.” She gave Luc a broad smile. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I’m sure Maryse will enjoy working with you.” Then before Maryse could say a word in protest, Mildred spun around faster than a large woman ought to be able to and hustled out of the café, the door banging shut behind her.

  Maryse counted to five, then looked over at Luc. “I’m really sorry about that. Mildred is…well…Mildred.”

  “I like her, although her subtlety could use a little work.”

  Maryse sighed. “That was subtle.”

  Luc laughed. “So I guess the Lifetime story doesn’t hold?”

  “Not even close. Unless it’s forensics, cop shows, or a hockey game, you won’t catch Mildred anywhere near a television. She likes her entertainment a bit violent.”

  Luc shook his head. “Wow. With friends like that…”

  Maryse reached for the cup of coffee as the waitress slid it across the table and dumped a ton of sugar in it. “She’s more than a friend. Mildred dated my dad after my mom died. She pretty much
raised me.”

  “How old were you when she died?”

  “Four.”

  Luc gave her a sympathetic look. “That’s tough.”

  Maryse shrugged and stirred her coffee. “I had Dad and Mildred, so it was okay.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not the same. My dad died when I was eight. I had tons of uncles and my grandfather, and my mom was super, but there’s always that feeling that it’s incomplete.”

  Maryse stopped stirring and looked at Luc. “Incomplete. That’s the perfect word.”

  “Yeah, well.” Luc shrugged and picked up his knife and the butter.

  Maryse watched him as he buttered his toast, his eyes not meeting hers. It wasn’t fair. No man should be this sexy and be in touch with his emotions. And no man should be able to touch her heart in the way he just had.