Chaos in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law Mystery/Romance Series)

by Jana DeLeon

  Jadyn looked down and saw the package of Twinkies resting in the remnants of scepter jewels. She grabbed the package and handed it to Helena. “Will Twinkies make it better?”

  “Doubtful.” Helena snatched the Twinkies from her hand, then looked over her shoulder. Her eyes widened and she climbed over the back of the Jeep.

  Jadyn turned around to see an older man pulling a bass boat putting fuel in his truck. “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything is wrong, but I just found my ride off the crazy train. That man lives in Mudbug. I’m going to hitch a ride back to town with him, and you can keep tromping through foul-smelling fish houses and looking for missing men or whatever else you want to do. But I am officially clocked out of police duty for the day.”

  With that, she stomped across the parking lot and heaved herself over into the bass boat. Jadyn waited until she sat up, then climbed in her Jeep and pulled away. She didn’t have the time or inclination to argue Helena out of her ghostly hitchhiking. Not to mention, she could go about her job more focused and with less issue without the stubborn, unhappy ghost along for the ride.

  She pulled to a stop at an intersection, grabbed her cell phone, and pressed in Colt’s number. It went straight to voice mail, which might mean he was on the phone but more likely meant he was outside of the service area. She left him a quick message about Clifton Vines, gave him the address, and headed for Clifton’s house.

  If Clifton was the owner of the wrecked boat, Jadyn hoped she’d find him on his front porch, drinking beer and complaining about making an insurance filing, but she didn’t count on it.

  Counting on things turning out well was a recipe for disappointment.

  Chapter Six

  Maryse walked out of her hotel laboratory room and almost ran into a maid. The rather large potted rosebush she carried in front of her was to blame. It was so tall and full that Maryse could barely see where she was going. It would probably be a good idea to set the pot down and check the staircase before she attempted to go down it.

  By carefully sidestepping, she managed to make it down the stairs without incident and carried the plant to the front desk, where she hefted it up on the counter. She heard some movement behind the plant and stepped to the side to see Mildred rising from her stool to peer around.

  “What in the world?” Mildred asked. “I thought you were working on something for a cosmetic company?”

  Maryse frowned. “I’m supposed to be, but if I can’t get into the bayou to collect plants, I’m stuck. Theory only takes you so far before you have to test it.”

  Mildred gave her a sympathetic look. “I know this is hard on you, but you’re doing the right thing. If Luc was worried about you, then he wouldn’t be a hundred percent while he’s working.”

  “I know. Why do you think I agreed to this without complaint?”

  Mildred raised one eyebrow.

  “Okay, without my normal amount of complaint.”

  “I’ll give you that,” Mildred agreed. “So what is this?” She pointed to the bush.

  “You don’t recognize it? It’s the rosebush from your porch.”

  Mildred stared. “The dead bush?”

  “Dead according to you. Lacking in the proper care and treatment according to me. Since it didn’t appear that you were going to do anything with it, I decided to try an experiment.”

  Mildred fingered one of the leaves. “I can’t believe it. It’s at least twice as big as what it was before it started the death march. And I’ve never seen more than two blooms on it. Now it’s covered with them.”

  Maryse grinned. “It will dress up the porch a lot better now. Think we should go see?”

  “Definitely!”

  Maryse lifted the pot from the counter and exited the hotel as Mildred held the front door. “I was thinking on the end next to the rocking chairs,” Maryse said.

  “Perfect.” Mildred pushed the rocking chairs back a bit to allow Maryse to slide by with the pot, then watched as she lowered it next to the rocking chair at the end of the porch.

  Maryse stepped back to stand beside her and admire the rosebush. “I probably shouldn’t brag about my own work,” Maryse said, “but it really is pretty. I can do a yellow one for the other side if you’d like.”

  “Oh, that would be lovely.”

  A horn honked farther down Main Street and they both turned around to look.

  One of the locals had his hand out his truck window, waving at them. “Looks great!” he called and pointed to the bush.

  “Thanks,” Maryse managed to choke out, but her attention was focused on the man’s bass boat, and its single occupant.

  Helena sat in the captain’s seat, her crown and scepter glistening in the afternoon sunlight. The white sash almost seemed to glow against her pink-and-black undergarments.

  “This cannot be good,” Maryse said.

  Mildred, who’d been staring slack-jawed, finally managed to close her mouth. “I…well… Good Lord, I don’t even know where to start.”

  As the boat drew alongside the hotel, Helena hopped off the captain’s seat and headed for the side, waving the scepter in the air.

  Mildred’s eyes widened. “She’s not going to try to jump, is she?”

  “Either that or summon lightning. I think I saw that fancy wand thing do that in a movie once.”

  Helena stepped over the side of the boat and onto the fender, waving her arms around to balance.

  “Maybe she’s trying to fly,” Maryse suggested.

  Mildred cringed as Helena jumped from the fender and hit the street with a thud. They stared for several seconds, but the lump didn’t so much as twitch.

  “What do we do now?” Maryse asked. “It’s not like we can run into the street and drag off an invisible person.”

  Mildred bit her lower lip and stared anxiously at Helena. “We have to do something,” she said but as she started to step off the porch and onto the sidewalk, Maryse grabbed her arm.

  “Wait. She’s moving.”

  They watched as Helena rolled over onto her back and groaned. Maryse heard an engine roar and looked over to see a UPS truck heading down Main Street, directly toward Helena.

  “UPS is early today!” Maryse shouted, causing Mildred to jump.

  Helena jerked her head around to see the truck barreling at her and jumped up from the ground faster than Maryse would have thought possible. She ran for the hotel, screaming the entire way, and dashed right past Mildred and Maryse and through the lobby wall. A second later, the UPS truck sped by.

  Mildred looked at Maryse. “Should we go inside?”

  “I’m afraid to.”

  Mildred nodded. “There is that.”

  ###

  Because of the storms, Jadyn had to backtrack a couple of times to find alternate routes where the roads were blocked by debris. With all the delays, it was almost an hour before she turned onto the path that led to Clifton’s house. As she turned into the driveway, she noticed there was no vehicle parked in front of the tiny cabin.

  She made her way to the front door and rapped on it. The cheap wood made a hollow sound and shook as she knocked. “Mr. Vines?” she called out. “I’m the game warden in Mudbug. If you’re here, can you please come out?”

  She leaned against the door and listened, but couldn’t hear any movement inside. Heavy curtains were drawn across the front windows, blocking any opportunity to peer inside. She leaned back, figuring she’d knock once more, then circle the house to see if she could find a place to look inside.

  As she finished her third hard rap, the door popped loose and swung open an inch. She pushed it open a couple inches more and called out again. “Mr. Vines. My name is Jadyn St. James and I’m the game warden in Mudbug. I’m going to enter your house. Please show yourself if you’re inside.”

  She paused a couple seconds, then pulled out her pistol, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

  The front room was an open living room, kitchen, and dining area. The f
urniture was old and worn, but looked sturdy enough. The inside of the cabin was surprisingly clean compared to the other bachelor residences she’d entered, especially the commercial fishermen. Clifton’s dining table, kitchen counters, and coffee table were also clear of lures, nets, weights, fishing line, and the many other things she expected to see.

  A single door rested on the back wall of the kitchen next to the refrigerator. It was the only door she saw, so she figured it must lead to the bedroom. So far, nothing about the cabin set off alarms, but she couldn’t ignore the uneasy feeling she had. Lifting her pistol into ready position, she crept toward the door and stopped in front of the refrigerator, listening for movement on the other side of the wall.

  The low hum of the refrigerator was the only sound she heard.

  She slipped around the refrigerator and gently turned the doorknob. As she pushed the door open, relief passed through her when the hinges didn’t squeak. She peered around the doorframe and into the room, but it was empty. She made quick work of checking the closet and the tiny bathroom, but there was no sign of Clifton Vines.

  She reached up to touch a bath towel hanging over the shower door. It was dry, as was his toothbrush, and the sink was completely free of water droplets. She went back into the kitchen and did some looking around, but found the same thing. No signs of recent use. If Clifton Vines was alive and well, he must have been gone from his house for a while.

  She looked around the room and blew out a breath. Nothing she’d found here gave her any cause for immediate alarm. For all she knew, Clifton could have left this morning for his boat and be unloading his catch at one of the shrimp houses as she stood there.

  So now what?

  Her cell phone’s ringing jarred her out of her thoughts and she saw Colt’s name on the display before she answered.

  “Sorry,” he said, “but I just got your message. Cell phone service has been crap most everywhere I’ve been today. Any luck at Clifton’s place?”

  “Not really,” she said and gave him a description of what she found, or the lack thereof. “I was about to search the cabin…see if I can find a photo of the boat maybe, but I wasn’t sure of jurisdiction.”

  “The game preserve extends into that area, but I’m not certain if Clifton’s cabin lies within the perimeter. I’ll head over that way. If Clifton returns home and gets bent because we’re tossing his place, I can always claim probable cause on a missing persons case. If he doesn’t have anything to hide, it shouldn’t be that big a deal.”

  “I’m beginning to wonder if there’s anyone who doesn’t have something to hide.”

  “Welcome to my world. I’m about twenty minutes out from where you are, coming in from the north. Go ahead and start looking around.”

  “Yep,” she said and slipped the cell phone back into her pocket. In twenty minutes, she could probably disassemble the entire cabin, given its size. By the time Colt arrived, she’d likely be done with her search and taking a nap.

  She glanced around and decided to start with the living room. The coffee table and the two end tables both had drawers. Maybe she’d find a photo shoved in one of them. She started with the coffee table but found only matches and old receipts. The end tables didn’t provide anything other than a television remote and batteries.

  The few kitchen drawers and cabinets held only kitchen items, and the tiny pantry revealed nothing but canned goods and cereal. She was just about to move into the bedroom when she heard a stick snap out back. Immediately, she pulled out her pistol and pushed the curtains of the kitchen window over just far enough to peek outside. The cabin backed up to the swamp, with a small clearing of mostly weeds that stretched about ten feet from the back wall of the cabin to the tree line.

  She couldn’t see anything moving in the brush or the trees, but that snap had been loud enough to carry through the cabin walls and definitely hadn’t come from a twig breaking. Which meant none of the smaller swamp inhabitants had caused the noise. Something larger was lurking outside, but what?

  She eased open the back door and looked outside. From this perspective, she had a better view of the weedy backyard and saw it contained only an old ice chest and a rusted metal chair. The swamp was equally still, with only the very tops of the cypress trees moving in the light breeze.

  The gunshot caught her completely by surprise.

  The shot boomed through the swamp, splintering the thin cabin wall and leaving a hole. She sprang back inside the cabin and dropped to the floor. What the hell? No vehicles had driven up to the cabin or she would have heard them, so it wasn’t likely that Clifton had returned home. But what possible reason could anyone else have to shoot at her?

  To throw the shooter off her location, she crawled into the bedroom and crouched in front of the back bedroom window, barely shifting the curtains to the side to see out. She scanned the tree line twice but couldn’t see movement or shadows, then something moved in her peripheral. Immediately, she locked in on the black shadow sitting ten feet into the tree line and twenty feet diagonal from where she hid.

  Standoff.

  He knew she was inside and she knew he was outside. If he was going to make a move, it would have to be soon. Cell phone service was fine here and she could call for backup. The shooter had no way of knowing that backup was already on the way. He also had no way of knowing what her skill level with a pistol was, but she was sure he’d seen the weapon when she looked outside.

  Trying to approach the cabin from the swamp left him a sitting duck, so her best guess was that he’d open fire on the cabin and hope he hit her. She scanned the cabin, looking for anything that would make a good barrier, but she didn’t see anything that would withstand bullets. She glanced back outside, but the shadow was still in place.

  Momentarily, she considered running for her Jeep, but the shooter would easily make it around the cabin and have a clear shot at her driving off. It was too risky with so little distance between them. She looked out the window again and sucked in a breath when a wide ray of sunlight shone where the shadow had been. Where did he go?

  A second later, she heard a vehicle pull up in front of the cabin. The bedroom didn’t have a window facing the front of the house, so she had to go back into the kitchen to see who had arrived. It could be Clifton, or Colt, or more backup for the shooter.

  She crawled back into the kitchen and eased up the side of the cabinets until she could peer out of the window above the sink. Her breath rushed out when she saw Colt’s truck parked next to hers. Then she heard footsteps on the steps outside and he stuck his head inside.

  She motioned him inside and down and he slipped into the cabin, immediately crouching below the windowsill next to the front door. She hurried into the living room, careful to stay hunched over below the windows, and crouched beside him.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, his pistol already drawn.

  Jadyn explained about the shooter and the shadow in the swamp.

  “But he’s not there now?”

  “No, but I didn’t see where he went.”

  Colt frowned. “We can try flanking him—one of us on each side of the cabin. But if he’s moved from the back, he’ll have a clean shot when we exit the cabin.”

  “What are the other options? We can’t sit here all night.”

  “I could call for backup, but it would take them at least an hour to get here.”

  “Exactly. Which would give him plenty of time to shoot up these thin walls. I think we have to make a move.”

  “Okay, then follow me out. I’ll go around to the right. You go to the left. Stay low and yell if you see something move.”

  Jadyn nodded and followed Colt out the front door. Before she even made it down the steps, they heard a boat engine roar to life behind the cabin. Colt took off for the swamp and Jadyn rushed behind him. He barely slowed when he hit the tree line, pushing his way through the brush as he ran in the direction of the racing boat motor. When they burst out of the trees at the bank of the
bayou, Jadyn saw the back of a bass boat disappear around a corner about fifty yards ahead.

  ###

  The shooter sped around the corner, then directed his boat down one of the narrow channels. He cut the engine and rowed along with the tide, using the channel to double back toward the cabin. When he reached the end of the channel, he jumped onto the bank and made his way through the narrow strip of land until he could see across the bank.

  The man and woman were both still standing there, but not for long. Seconds later, they moved away from him, no doubt returning to the cabin.

  What did they know?

  That unanswered question was the only thing that had kept him from raining bullets down the side of the cabin. But what if his suspicions were wrong? Killing someone would only up the heat, and things were already sweltering.

  He’d thought he had the perfect plan with the perfect backup plan, but things were proving to be outside of the expected scope. Years of living within a well-oiled machine appeared to be unraveling in a matter of days. He needed to be patient and smart…adjust and change things so that he came through it all with everything he planned on.

  And he’d planned on a lot.

  Chapter Seven

  Colt cursed as the boat slipped out of their view. “I didn’t get a good look at it.”

  “Me either.”

  “What in the world is going on?” Colt asked. “Do you have any idea why someone would take a shot at you?”

  Jadyn thought about her last shrimp house visit and frowned.

  “What?” Colt asked.

  “It’s nothing, really. Nothing more than a feeling.” She explained what she’d seen at the last shrimp house. When it came to Helena’s role in things, Jadyn explained it as her lingering and managing to overhear the part about Clifton and the arguing between Bobby and Peter.