Chaos in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law Mystery/Romance Series) (9 page)

When she got to the junction of the road and the highway, Jadyn pulled into a convenience store parking lot and stopped at the far end.

“Are you going to get me a snack?” Helena asked. “I might be able to forgive you a little if you bought me Twinkies.”

“No.” Jadyn pulled out her cell phone and called Shirley. “I need to see if you can track down an address for me. I only have a first name—Clifton—and he probably lives somewhere near Pirate’s Cove.”

“Let me take a look,” Shirley said. A couple seconds later, she said, “There’s a Clifton Paschal near Sinful, but he’s ninety-two and disabled. Probably not our fisherman.”

“Anyone else?”

“Just a sec…one more. A Clifton Vines. Fifty-three.”

“What’s the address?”

“Box 65, FM 1168.”

Jadyn grabbed a pen out of her glove compartment and jotted down the address on her map. “Great, thanks.”

Jadyn hung up the phone and located the farm road on her map. “It’s not that far away, but with all the winding roads, it’s probably a twenty-minute drive.”

“I’m not traipsing naked through the swamp.”

Jadyn sighed. “You bitch more than any twenty people, you know that? I’m going to start calling you Queen of Complaints.”

“Oh, I see. I’m the problem. So you wouldn’t complain if you were parading around in broad daylight wearing only your underwear?”

“If no one could see me, I’d consider it an expedient way of getting out of doing laundry and be happy as a lark.”

Helena shook her head. “The longer I’m around you, the more I can tell that you and Maryse are related.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Look, I need to get a water, so I’ll pick you up some Twinkies, but that’s the last I want to hear about this. No one would be happier seeing you clothed than me. Maybe while I’m in the store, you can figure it out.”

Jadyn hopped out of the Jeep and went into the store. She pulled a cold bottled water from the cooler and grabbed a package of Twinkies on her way to the register. A couple minutes later, she strolled back to her Jeep, where she took one look at Helena and promptly dropped the package of Twinkies.

Helena still wasn’t dressed, but her outfit had changed. A giant, sparkly crown rested on top of her head and a white sash with red letters across it proclaimed her “Queen of Complaints.” The ensemble was polished off with the silver scepter she clutched in her left hand.

Helena looked over at her and if looks could kill, Jadyn knew she’d be six feet under. “Not one word,” Helena said.

“But?”

“Ssssh!” Helena held up a hand. “If I could fix it I would.”

“So take it off.”

Helena threw her hands in the air, pushing the scepter to the sky like she was commanding rain to fall. “I’ve thrown this thing on the ground at least ten times.” Before she even finished the sentence, she flung the scepter past Jadyn and it shattered on the concrete, but when Jadyn looked back at Helena, another perfect scepter had taken its place in her hand.

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 furniture 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?”