The Vanishing

by Jana DeLeon

  Which then led to enormous problem number two—getting back to town. Returning to Pirate’s Cove on foot was a huge risk that would require swimming across several channels. Anna had been very fortunate when she’d taken her dip. There was no guarantee that he and Colette would be as lucky.

  He rose from the crate with a sigh. Before he could do anything, he needed to put together some supplies. With no way of knowing how long it would take for them to get out of the swamp, it was best to travel with as much food and water as they could manage.

  As he took one step away from the window, he caught sight of a light out of the corner of his eye. Whipping his head around, he stared into the swamp, watching as the light bobbed up and down, moving through the trees. Moving directly toward Cache.

  He hurried over to Colette and shook her gently. She stirred a little at first then bolted upright, her eyes wide.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “There’s a light out in the swamp. It’s moving this way.”

  “Is it a lost soul?”

  “No. It’s a spotlight.”

  He could tell by her frightened expression that the implications of what he relayed weren’t lost on her. “I need you to get behind that first row of crates and cover me.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Downstairs. If I can take him alive, I want to.”

  “Max, I never thought I’d say this, but if you kill him, all this is over.”

  “Not necessarily. We don’t know that he’s working alone. Killing him wouldn’t give us answers, and I want those answers.”

  He picked up the shotgun from the crates and handed it to Colette. “Get behind those crates on the right-hand side. Aim at the door, but do not shoot unless I tell you to. I don’t want to risk you shooting me by accident.”

  She nodded and slid onto the floor behind the crates. Her hands shook as she leveled the gun across the top of the crates and pointed it at the church door. Before he could change his mind, Max climbed down from the loft and hurried to the church entrance. At one of the back windows, he pulled the blanket to the side and peered out into the village. The beam from the spotlight shone down the path in front of the church.

  The attacker was close.

  Max pressed himself against the back wall, as close as possible to the church door, then pulled out his pistol. When the attacker walked in, he was going to press the gun to his head and hope the man didn’t decide to take a risk.

  He heard the footsteps as the attacker approached. Then they stopped right in front of the church. The beam of the spotlight hit the front door full force, its powerful light streaming in through the cracks between the door and the frame. The footsteps picked up again and Max’s heart dropped.

  There were two men coming.

  It was too late to rethink it. In a matter of seconds, they’d both be inside the church. He’d just have to grab the first man and hope that the sight of a gun shoved to his partner’s head would cause the second man to put down his weapon.

  The creak of the wooden steps echoed through the stillness in the church. Max glanced up at the loft, but he could make out only the outline of Colette’s head. He gripped his pistol and said a silent prayer as the church door inched silently open.

  As the first slicker-suited figure stepped through the door, he placed his pistol to the side of the man’s head. “Don’t move or I blow you away.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Max?”

  Holt! Max dropped his gun as Holt pulled back the hood of his slicker suit and stepped aside to allow Alex to enter. He heard Colette cry out from the loft, and seconds later she hurried down the ladder and rushed to the front of the church to hug Alex.

  Holt gave his brother a hug, his relief apparent. “Man, are we glad to see you.”

  “That goes both ways. How did you find us?”

  Alex stepped over to give Max a hug and then released him, smiling. “We used your map to get to the channel. We found your boat downstream stuck in some brush. The line had been cut.”

  “Oh!” Colette cried out. “I hadn’t even thought about the boat.” She looked over at Max. “But I bet you had.” She shook her head. “I never thought I’d say this, but thank you for keeping things from me. I don’t think I could have processed one more piece of bad news.”

  Max smiled at her. “You did great. Give yourself some credit.”

  In the bright light of the spotlight, it was easy to see the blush that crept up her neck. “Thanks,” she said and smiled.

  “So you found the boat…” Max prompted.

  “Yes,” Alex continued, “then Holt found the end of the tie line where you’d secured it to that piece of driftwood, and that’s where he began his magical tracking.” She elbowed Max in the ribs. “You’ve got some competition. I don’t know how he managed to find a single sign of your passage in that storm.”

  “Well,” Holt said, “I don’t think I would have gotten very far without your markers. The white fabric reflected right off the spotlight, so all I really had to do was figure out which direction you went from each marker.”

  “You didn’t encounter anyone else in the swamp?” Max asked.

  “Not even a sign of another person,” Holt said. “What happened to you?”

  Max gave them a quick rundown of what he and Colette had experienced. Holt and Alex were suitably dismayed and enraged over the situation.

  “The lost souls,” Alex said as Max described the lights they saw from the church window.

  “You say you shot the guy?” Holt asked.

  “I think so,” Max replied. “He screamed like I did, but I have no way of knowing how serious the injury is. It may only be a nick.”

  “Even a nick may be enough to zero in on him if he’s favoring it tomorrow. Assuming he lives in Pirate’s Cove.”

  “Assuming.”

  “Well,” Holt said, “you’ll have plenty of time tomorrow to check all that out. But what do you say we get the hell out of here for now?”

  Colette sighed in relief. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  * * *

  ALEX TOSSED SOME BLANKETS onto the couch next to Max. She’d already settled Colette in the guest bedroom that Max had been using, and that left the couch for him. Not that he minded. He was glad that Colette had agreed to stay at Holt’s cabin for the night, especially as Holt had pulled him aside and told him about the break-in at Colette’s apartment. The night had already been stressful enough. Best to wait until morning to spring yet one more issue on her.

  “I’m going to hop in the shower and then turn in,” Alex said. “Colette fell asleep as soon as she hit the pillow. Let’s all try to get some rest. Morning will come soon enough.”

  Max glanced at his watch and sighed. Three a.m.

  He had a week’s worth of work to shove into a single day. So many things to look into. So many loose ends that needed to be tied up.

  * * *

  COLETTE PULLED THE COVERS straight on the bed and fluffed the pillows before leaning them against the headrest. She’d had a long, hot shower and a change of clothes and felt remarkably refreshed despite the short amount of sleep.

  Voices carried through the bedroom door, and she hoped her shower hadn’t awakened the rest of the cabin’s occupants. She reached for Max’s backpack and pulled out the book of fairy tales with the drawings. They’d almost left the church without it, but Max remembered it before they entered the swamp, and ran back to get it. She was glad he’d made the effort. Something told her the drawings were important. They’d been too exhausted to review them last night, but she planned to look over them with Max at the first opportunity.

  She heard a faint knock on the bedroom door and then Alex poked her head inside.

  “How are you feeling?” Alex asked.

  “Surprisingly good,” she replied as Alex stepped into the bedroom.

  “I understand. It wasn’t that long ago that I was in your shoes—desperate for answers and p
utting myself in danger with every step.”

  “I’m glad your answers turned out to be happy ones and that you found your niece. And now you do this full-time with Holt.” Colette shook her head. “It’s hard to imagine volunteering for this.”

  “It’s worth it to help people like you. People who couldn’t get help otherwise.”

  “Well, I certainly appreciate it.”

  Alex smiled. “Then you’ll also appreciate that I am not making the breakfast, but Holt makes a mean pancake.” She turned to leave the room.

  “Hey, Alex.”

  Alex stopped and turned to look at her. “Yes?”

  Colette twisted the hem on the T-shirt Alex had loaned her, trying to figure out how to phrase what she wanted to ask. “Last night, when Max was telling you about the lights, you said they were lost souls.”

  Alex nodded.

  “Max told me the story he’d heard from the psychic woman when he was a kid, but I wanted to ask…have you ever seen them?”

  “Many times. Our house backed up to the swamp. Sometimes my cousin, Sarah, and I would sneak out in the middle of the night and sit at the edge of the swamp and watch them. They were especially active in the clear night after a storm.”

  “It doesn’t bother you?” Colette asked. “I mean, you’re a doctor. You studied science.”

  Alex frowned. “I used to tell myself that there was a logical explanation for all the things I’d seen growing up in Vodoun, and I found that logical explanation for some of them. But the others…well, let’s just say I’ve stopped denying the things I’ve seen just because I can’t explain them.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  “I have to be if I want to live here and remain sane. There are a lot of unanswered questions in Mystere Parish.” She smiled. “Don’t be too long or Max will eat all the pancakes,” she said before she left the bedroom.

  Colette slipped the book with the drawings into her backpack and zipped it closed. She would ask Max about them later, and as soon as she got to her apartment, she was going to do a little computer research. Surely they could spare a few minutes for her to check out some possible leads.

  The tiny breakfast nook should have felt crowded with all four of them crammed around the four-top table, but to Colette, it felt cozy and happy. She watched as Holt shooed Alex away from the stove and smiled at her playful pout as Max laughed and handed her a stack of dishes to place on the table. Despite everything that had happened and everything they had to face that day, they were so normal.

  Family.

  Colette sighed. That summed it up, really. They were a family—able to tease each other about their shortcomings, able to share the good things and the hard things, always there for each other when support was needed, even if that meant taking risks.

  The old feelings of longing crashed into her, and she struggled to keep from tearing up. She hadn’t felt the loss this strongly since she was a child, watching other children play with their siblings and parents, watching them get ice cream at the corner store, watching them in their frilly dresses and suits going to church on Sunday.

  All the things she’d never had.

  Alex slid a plate in front of her. “You all right?”

  “Yeah,” she said, trying to collect herself. “Just wandering.”

  Alex placed her hand on Colette’s arm. “Take a break from thinking. We have a rule here—no shoptalk over meals. When we’re done eating, we’ll all lay our ideas on the table. We’re going to get through this. I promise you.”

  Colette nodded. Alex’s words and the tone of her voice held so much conviction that it was impossible not to believe them.

  “I hope everyone’s hungry,” Holt said as he placed a huge plate of pancakes and bacon on the table, “because I have outdone myself.”

  “You say that every time,” Max teased as he slid into a chair next to Colette.

  Holt grinned and sat across from Colette. “I’m right every time.”

  Alex handed each of them silverware and napkins and slid into her chair. “Before we dig in, I just want to say that I’m grateful that Max and Colette are safe with us this morning.”

  “I second that,” Holt said and held up his coffee cup in salute. “Now, dig in.”

  It was hard not to relax while they ate. The horseplay between Alex and the two brothers and the macho one-upping between Holt and Max were lighthearted and fun. It was so obvious how much they cared for each other and how comfortable they were. Part of that was likely because they’d all grown up together and shared so much history, but the rest of it was because of the great respect they had for each other.

  She ate way too much, but with Holt insisting on seconds and Max slipping extra pieces of bacon on her plate, it was hard to resist. Alex, always the hostess, was ready with fresh coffee each time a cup emptied.

  Finally, when everyone was stuffed and the last of the dishes was cleared from the table, Holt put on his serious look and Colette knew it was time for business.

  “Colette, we didn’t want to worry you with this last night,” Holt said, “but someone broke into your apartment yesterday. That’s why we insisted you come home with us last night.”

  “Oh, no!” Of all the things she’d expected Holt to say, this one wasn’t even on the list.

  Holt explained how the manager became aware of the break-in and called the police. “It doesn’t look like anything was taken, but they need you to say that for sure.”

  “I’ll take you to your apartment first,” Max said, “to take care of things there before I head back to Pirate’s Cove.”

  “Actually,” Holt said, “Alex and I wanted to poke around Pirate’s Cove ourselves.”

  Max shook his head. “I can’t let you do my job.”

  “It’s the agency’s job,” Alex pointed out, “and while we appreciate your dedication, we also think it might be time to change tactics.”

  “What do you mean?” Max asked.

  “When you first went to Pirate’s Cove looking for Anna,” Alex said, “you introduced yourselves as a couple, so no one knows you’re a detective. If Holt and I show up there with credentials and asking about Anna and the attack on you yesterday, it might change the attacker’s point of view.”

  Max frowned. “You think if he knows professionals are working on the case, he’ll back off of Colette?”

  “I can’t know for sure, because I have no idea how much the attacker has invested in the information he thinks Colette can give him. If he’s an opportunist only, then I do think there’s a chance he’ll back off.”

  Max blew out a breath and Colette could tell he was struggling between wanting to keep her safe and wanting to be in the middle of things. “So what am I supposed to do here?”

  “Take care of things at Colette’s apartment,” Holt said, “then do some background work on the people in Pirate’s Cove. Maybe try to run down some leads on the coins. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but you can’t go back into the swamp until we have a better grip on what we’re dealing with, and I don’t want to leave Colette exposed.”

  “I don’t, either,” Max agreed.

  Colette was torn between wanting Max with her and wanting him to do what he clearly preferred to be doing. “If Max wants to go with you, I’m sure I’d be fine by myself—”

  “Not an option.”

  “No way.”

  “Not going to happen.”

  All three of them spoke at once, and Colette gave them a shaky laugh. “I guess I’m outvoted.”

  “We just want you safe,” Alex said. “He’s targeted you twice already.”

  “And my home,” Colette said. “I can’t even be safe there.”

  “Don’t worry about that right now,” Alex said. “Holt and I have to testify tomorrow in a case in Lafayette. We’re leaving this evening as soon as we get back from Pirate’s Cove. That will leave plenty of room here, so you’ll stay with Max.”

  Colette looked over at Max but couldn’
t get a read on what he was thinking. His expression was serious and he had a far-off look in his eyes, as if his thoughts were far beyond what was being said in that room. Probably he was thinking that if she hadn’t gotten in the way to begin with, he’d be the one going to Pirate’s Cove to investigate.

  Instead, he was stuck playing babysitter.

  * * *

  COLETTE STARED AT HER formerly tidy apartment and wanted to cry. It wasn’t the mess but the violation she felt at the intrusion into her personal space. She picked pieces of a broken vase up from the floor and placed them in the trash can, not knowing what to do or where to start. The smell of spoiled milk and rotting food assailed her senses, forcing her to place her hand in front of her nostrils.

  Max picked up the torn milk carton from the floor and poured what was left of the milk into the sink. He turned on the hot water and grabbed a roll of paper towels from the counter. “Based on the decomposition of the food and milk, the police estimated the break-in happened sometime yesterday morning. I’m guessing it was while we were at Anna’s apartment.”

  Colette scooped up broken eggs with what was left of the carton. “What makes you say that?”

  “If we assume it’s only one man, then he had to have done this early enough to get back to Pirate’s Cove and follow us into the swamp.”

  “If it’s one man.”

  “So far, my gut is telling me that it is.”

  Colette tossed the eggs and carton into the garage and blew out a breath. “Well, what does your gut tell you he’s going to do next?”

  “He thinks you know something, and it’s important enough to him that he risked trying to kidnap you in the middle of the swamp. I think he’s going to continue to come after you until he gets what he wants or gets caught. I’m planning for the latter.”

  “Ha. Me, too.” She glanced around at the mess once more. “I guess I should start picking up the worst of this, at least so that the stench doesn’t get any worse.”