Showdown in Mudbug (18 page)

“So it had nothing to do with all his gambling debts I got stuck with, huh? I find that hard to believe.”

Lila nodded. “I understand. When Hank first left you, he had gotten in with a rough crowd. Some of them you met when they were trying to collect, but that
wasn’t the worst of them. He finally realized that his life was headed to an early end, and he checked himself into rehab in Mississippi. It’s probably what saved his life.”

Maryse sighed. “I guess I don’t really have any room to complain anymore, as he sorta took a bullet that was meant for me a month ago.”

Lila shook her head. “You have every right to complain. The Hank Henry that you knew wasn’t a worthy enough person to have a relationship with anyone, but you have to believe me when I tell you he’s changed. He’s really trying to do the right thing, and this job is the start of a real future for Hank.”

Maryse turned up her hands. “Then if he’s really changed and the job is great, why did he take off again? And how do you think I can help you?”

“Chuck and I think Hank was kidnapped.”

“What?” Maryse sat straight up in her chair.

“We called the police. They looked things over and agree that it looks suspicious.”

“Holy crap. Are there any suspects?” Maryse shook her head. “What am I saying? This is Hank. The list of suspects is the same as his list of creditors.”

“There was a guy at the site one day that Chuck didn’t like the look of. Hank was talking to him, and Chuck said Hank looked aggravated, but when Chuck asked about it, the guy said he was just asking for directions. Chuck didn’t really buy it. He said Hank looked nervous after talking with him, but Chuck didn’t press him. He wishes he had pushed, now. He’s blaming himself, which is wrong.”

“What did the guy look like?”

“Chuck said he had dark hair, dark sunglasses, and drove a black Cadillac.”

Maryse felt the color wash from her face. “A black Cadillac? Chuck is sure?”

“Yes. He said he remembers specifically because he looked at the car to buy one, but ultimately he didn’t want to pay for it. Why? Is that important?”

“It may be.” Maryse studied Lila for a second. The woman was clearly worried. She’d stirred her coffee during the entire conversation but had yet to take a single sip. “I’m just wondering why you’re here telling me all of this.”

Lila blushed. “Um, well, one of the days before that, when Chuck thought he saw the Cadillac, Hank came in and asked to use his cell phone. He claimed his was dead, and he needed to call his ex-wife. I guess maybe we just thought he might have told you something.”

“Did you tell the police about that call?”

“No.” Lila frowned. “What’s going on, Maryse? Do you know something about Hank that you’re not telling me? I saw your face when I mentioned the black Cadillac. Is Hank in trouble? Is there anything I can do?”

Maryse stared at her, finally understanding why Lila was talking to her. “You care about him.”

Lila looked down at her coffee. “Well, of course I’m worried when anyone I know comes up missing.”

“That’s not what I meant, but I won’t push you.” Maryse sighed. “Hank
did
call me that day, but it’s not him that’s in trouble, or at least we didn’t think it was. He was stuck in the middle of a situation involving a friend of mine, and he called to warn me so I would warn her.”

“What kind of situation?”

“I can’t really tell you much without breaking a confidence, but suffice it to say that some very bad people are looking for her. I promise you,
she’s
above reproach, but the people who are looking for her are some of the same people that Hank was involved with before.
They know he was married to me and that she’s my friend, so they’ve been trying to shake him down for information.”

“But Hank wouldn’t give them what they wanted.”

“No, and in all fairness he doesn’t know the answers to their questions. We all thought it better if he didn’t.”

Lila nodded. “That makes sense. You’re certain your friend is telling you everything?”

“I’m positive. I can tell you that the local police and the FBI are trying to protect her. This is huge, Lila. She’s in a life-threatening situation, and the fallout reaches far beyond her. She’s just as unhappy about that and feels guilty as hell, but I promise you, there’s nothing she can do about it that is not already being done.” Maryse sighed. “I’m sorry I have to be so cryptic, but the police have really forbidden me to talk about anything.”

“Please, don’t apologize. I understand completely. Well, not really, but I understand why you can’t provide me with details. The FBI? Wow. I shudder to think what your friend’s gotten in the middle of that rates that kind of attention.”

“It’s been kinda hairy. That’s for sure.”

“And the New Orleans police are also aware of this situation?”

“Yes.” One of them, anyway.

“Then they’ll be able to connect the dots to Hank’s disappearance?”

“I will call my contact and make sure that they do, if they haven’t already.”

“Thank you.” Lila opened her purse and pulled out a business card. She wrote a phone number on the back of the card and handed it to Maryse. “The woman that’s in danger—if there’s anything I can do, please let me know. I have connections with several safe houses.”

“Thank you. That’s really kind, but you don’t know my friend. She doesn’t exactly duck things well.”

Lila nodded. “If you hear anything that you can share, I’d really appreciate a call. That’s my cell number on the back of the card. Call anytime.”

“Of course,” Maryse said.

Lila rose and Maryse followed her to the front door of the shop and drew back the dead bolt. “It was nice to meet you,” Lila said. “I only wish it were under different circumstances.”

“Me, too,” Maryse said as Lila slipped out the door. At the last minute, Maryse tugged on her sleeve. “He’s doing a good thing for my friend. Hank, that is. I want you to know that. You’re not wrong in believing he’s changed. I believe it, too, and I’m definitely the last person to say something good about him unless it’s warranted.”

Lila smiled. “Thank you. I’m glad I haven’t been wrong.”

Maryse closed the door behind her and turned the lock in place. She was officially closed for the day. She pulled the pay-as-you-go cell phone Raissa had gotten her from her pocket and punched in Raissa’s number. Things were getting much, much worse.

It was noon before Raissa and Zach met up at a café in downtown New Orleans. Zach looked stressed, and Raissa couldn’t blame him. Ever since he’d told her Hank Henry was missing, she’d only thought the worst. She’d managed to reassure Maryse when she called hours before that Zach was in charge of the investigation and knew everything they did about Hank and the Heberts. Which was practically nothing. Both of them had already agreed to delay telling Helena until they knew something more concrete.

Raissa took a bite of her chicken sandwich, even though food was the last thing on her mind. “So did you get anything on Spencer?”

“Nothing good. Guy’s clean as a whistle when it comes to the police database. I figured as much.”

“I may have something.”

“Oh, yeah? What?”

“I had Helena do a search of Spencer’s office. She didn’t come back with much.”

“How does that help?”

“I mean she
really
didn’t come back with much. The place is almost empty.”

Zach’s eyes widened. “You think he’s getting ready to cut out?”

“If he hasn’t already. He knows you’re looking at him, since you questioned him the other day. He might figure it’s only a matter of time before someone
connects the dots between him and the parents of the other kidnap victims.”

“Damn it. What good does the information do us if we can’t use it? I can hardly get a warrant from his home based on military personnel giving Maryse confidential information, and I have zero way of explaining how I know his office is cleared out.”

“Maybe we should question Dr. Spencer again. The police could have gotten a subpoena for information, for all he knows, and if he’s guilty of something—and it sure as hell looks like he is—the last thing he’d do is go running to the police to tell them about his suspicions that we broke into his office.”

“Maybe, but it’s a huge risk. If this whole case shakes loose over that information, how am I supposed to justify knowing what to ask him?”

Raissa frowned. He was right, and that frustrated her. Mainly because she hadn’t thought that far herself. She was so focused on finding Melissa that she’d forgotten anything that might happen afterward. And while she could probably get away with taking a hit for it, she didn’t want to ruin Zach’s career.

“I did find something I wanted to run by you,” Zach said.

“What’s that?”

“You know how the captain has me checking into the mayor’s family’s background? Well, an interesting thing happened when I tried to get information on Susannah Franco.”

“What?”

“She didn’t exist until she was eighteen. I find that a little strange, and way too familiar.”

Raissa’s mind raced with possibilities. “Could have been in witness protection with her parents and taken on another identity when she turned eighteen. Or she
could have changed her name for any number of reasons.”

“Changing your name doesn’t get you a new Social Security number.”

“No. So what does her Social Security card say?”

“Susannah Forrester.”

“She never changed it after she married. I wonder why.”

“I think I can guess,” Zach said. “Because Susannah Forrester died thirty years ago.”

“Then who is Peter Franco married to?”

Zach shook his head. “I have no idea, and I wonder if Peter Franco does, either. They met in college, and all I can get from teachers and other acquaintances is that she was an only child and the rest of her family is deceased.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“The real Susannah Forrester lived in a bayou town on the outskirts of New Orleans. I figure Mrs. Franco had to know her to assume her identity. I’m going there as soon as we finish lunch to poke around. Do you want to ride along?”

Raissa bit her lip, trying to decide. Heck, yeah, she wanted to go, but she’d promised Maryse she’d head back to Mudbug after lunch to check for any Sonny recordings and fill Helena and Mildred in on the situation with Hank. Maryse had sounded panicked when Raissa talked with her earlier, so she knew her friend was hanging on by a thread. “I can’t. I’ve got to get back to Mudbug and handle the Hank issue with Maryse. And Mildred needs her car.”

Zach narrowed his eyes at her. “You aren’t thinking about questioning Spencer yourself, are you? Because that would be the dumbest thing in the world to do.”

Raissa blushed, as it had crossed her mind that
Spencer’s office was only a couple of blocks from the café. “No, I’m not thinking about doing that.”

Zach stared at her.

“Okay, so I thought about it, but I can’t come up with a good enough excuse to do it. I promise I’ll go straight to Mudbug.”

“And call me when you get there.”

“I promise.”

“I mean it, Raissa.” Zach rose from the booth and leaned over to kiss her hard on the mouth. “You’re already taking enough risks. I want you around to see the end.”

“The end is what I’m afraid of. We’re running out of time.”

“We know more now than the FBI ever did. I know it’s a jumbled mess, but I’m just as certain that it’s all relevant. We’ll make sense of it in time to catch them.”

Raissa watched him through the plate-glass window of the café until he drove away, then reached for her wallet, tossed some bills on the table, and left. The only good thing so far was that between the stress and giving all her sweets to Helena, she’d lost a couple of pounds.

She’d just gotten in Mildred’s car when her cell phone began ringing. She looked at the display. Zach? She flipped open the phone and answered.

“Are you still at the café?”

“No. I just got in my car, why?”

“We have a huge problem.”

“What happened?”

“I just got a call—homicide.”

Raissa felt the blood rush from her face. “Oh, no. Not Hank.”

“No. Dr. Spencer.”

Shit. Raissa banged one hand on the steering wheel. “There goes our best lead.”

“That’s not the half of it. His body’s in your store. I’m headed over there now. I know you don’t want to run into Fields, and I can’t promise you they won’t ask me to hold you in custody until they figure this out, but I think you should get over there.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.” She started the car and pulled onto the street, tires squealing. What the hell was Spencer doing in her shop? Who had killed him? And how? The questions outweighed the answers by a mile. It seemed that the closer they got to the truth, the more convoluted everything became.

The usually calm street was filled with vehicles, most of them with flashing lights. Raissa parked a block away and started up the sidewalk to her shop. A patrolman stopped her at the end of the block. “This is a crime scene, ma’am. No one’s allowed past at this time.”

Raissa pulled out her license to show the patrolman. “Your crime scene is in my shop. I got a call from a Detective Blanchard.”

The patrolman checked her license and nodded. “Right this way, Ms. Bordeaux. I’ll take you to the detective.”

The patrolman waved at another officer to take his position and escorted her to her shop. There was a crowd of people outside, and as they stepped to the door, the paramedics came out, pulling the gurney. The body was completely covered.

“Wait,” she said and stopped the paramedics. “May I?” She motioned to the body.

The patrolman nodded, and the paramedic pulled back the sheet to expose Dr. Spencer, with a clean bullet hole in the middle of his forehead.

The paramedic pulled the sheet back over Spencer’s body and wheeled it onto the ambulance. The ambulance driver turned off the lights and they pulled away. No sense in hurrying on this one. Raissa turned and followed the patrolman into her store.

Zach stood next to the counter, talking to a member of the forensics team. He saw her come in and broke off his conversation to walk over. He thanked the patrolman, then pulled her to the back of the store to a section with the shape of a body taped on the floor. “He had a screwdriver, so we figure he was trying to open this door. That’s the stairs to your apartment, right?”

“Yeah.” Raissa shook her head. “But what was the point? Why come after me? You’re the police. I’m just the nut who owns the psychic shop.”

“Yeah, but you were with me when I questioned him, so he knows you’re involved, and that’s not all. We found his car in the parking garage behind his office. A black Cadillac.”

Raissa stared at him. “No way. It’s Sonny’s guys following me. We know that. And besides, Spencer’s name wasn’t on the DMV list.”

“It’s registered to his wife.” Zach glanced around and leaned his head toward her. “It has a bullet hole in the trunk,” he whispered.

Raissa didn’t know what to think. “Dr. Spencer tried to run me off the road? How did he even know to find me in Mudbug? He doesn’t know any of my friends. He’d never know to look for me there.”

“That is a damned good question, unless it was Spencer who put the tracking device on your car.”

“But why? We questioned him after he tried to run me off the road. After I’d already figured out the trace was installed.”

Zach shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on
here, but I don’t like it. It smacks of a professional hit, which smacks of your friends the Heberts. Maybe you’re wrong about Sonny being involved. Or maybe some of Sonny’s family is into business he doesn’t know about. All I know is that witnesses said the shot was fired from the driver’s side of a black Cadillac driving down the street. Now, how many people do you know who can land a bullet right between a guy’s eyes while driving?”

“Not many. What are we going to do? Spencer was the best lead we had.”

“Which is probably the main reason he’s dead. I’m going to call the captain about getting a search warrant for Spencer’s office and home, but it won’t happen immediately. Meantime, I’m calling in Morrow to cover this.”

Raissa frowned.

“I know, he’s a dickhead, but he’s also an idiot. With any luck, he won’t find any evidence that incriminates you in all this.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to continue with my original plan to check up on Susannah Franco. Someone close to the Francos bypassed that alarm system. I originally thought it was the mayor, but now I wonder. Anyway, get the hell out of here before someone else decides to question you.”

“Okay, wait,” Raissa said, confused. “Won’t your captain have a stroke if you let me get away?”

“He sorta sanctioned contact with you in order to get leads on the kidnapping case.”

“Sorta?”

“Yeah, as in, I’m allowed to contact you as long as I don’t get caught. Then, my guess is, he wouldn’t know anything about it.”

“Then I guess I’ll sorta get the hell out of here before I make things even messier.”

“Get back to Mudbug and close yourself in somewhere safe. I’ll call you as soon as I have some information on Susannah Franco.”

Raissa hurried back down the block, her head low so maybe no one would remember what she looked like and associate her with Zach, at least not right away. None of this made sense. Why had Spencer tried to kill her? Was he tied to the Heberts? And who had taken Hank Henry and for what reason? Even more important, where was he now?

The first thing she needed to do was check the feed from Sonny’s. If Sonny’s men had anything to do with Spencer’s murder, she’d be able to hear all about it, provided they were in Sonny’s office. She got into her car and headed back to Mudbug as fast as Mildred’s ancient sedan would allow.

Zach’s phone rang the instant he climbed into his car. He knew it was the captain without even looking at the display. He could swear that even the ring had a desperate, angry sound to it. He pressed the button to answer and the captain’s voice boomed out, making him wince.

“Damn it, Blanchard! What the hell is going on? You tell me this morning that you don’t have any leads to speak of, then the doctor you questioned about Melissa Franco turns up dead in the psychic woman’s shop. I guess you’ve got plenty of leads now. What I want from you are some answers.”

“I wish I had them, Captain. All I can tell you is that it looks like Spencer’s been stalking Ms. Bordeaux, but neither of us know why.”

“How do you know that the Bordeaux woman didn’t kill him herself? Maybe they were having an affair.
Maybe she thought he’d kidnapped the kid, and she’s lost it from so many years of hiding out.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case, sir.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because when Spencer was shot, I was sitting in a café with Ms. Bordeaux having lunch. And witnesses saw a black Cadillac, not an old tan sedan. It wasn’t her, but it has all the signs of a hired hit.”

“Which puts us right back to the fucking Heberts.”

“It looks that way.”

“So would you like to tell me why you called Morrow to take over for you on the hottest piece of evidence that we’ve got so far?”

“I’m tracking down some background information on Susannah Franco.”

“Please don’t tell me the mother has anything to do with the disappearance of her own child.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you that, but I have to wonder.”

“Wonder about what?”

“Why the Social Security number Susannah Franco’s been using belongs to a woman that died over thirty years ago.”

There was dead silence on the other end of the phone, and for a moment, Zach wondered if the captain had finally had that heart attack he kept threatening the department with. “Sir, are you still there?”

“Yeah, but I’m starting to wonder for how much longer. Jesus H. Christ, Blanchard. You call me as soon as you have any information on the Franco woman. I’ll make sure the detail watching her doesn’t let her out of their sight. Is there anything else that can pile onto this case?”

“As a matter of fact, remember that kidnapping you sent me on this morning?”

“Yeah, the adult male. So? Probably out on a bender.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“The guy was a friend of a friend of Ms. Bordeaux’s and an ex-associate of the Heberts. He warned Ms. Bordeaux earlier this week that one of the Heberts asked him to kill her.”

“Blanchard. I’ve changed my mind.”

“About what, sir?”