Chapter Seven #2
“At this point I think anything is possible,” she finally replied. “The one thing that does make sense is how somebody knew what we were up to in getting the donated books. Somebody must have heard our conversation through your open windows.”
“That’s the one thing that finally makes sense,” he agreed.
“I’d like to pick your brain about the rest of the people we had on our list of suspects. I’ve also got a couple of names to add.”
“How about we eat lunch first and then we can talk about it?” he replied. “That way if the conversation makes me lose my appetite, I will have already eaten.” He got out of his chair, and she followed him into the kitchen area.
“What can I do to help?” she asked.
“Nothing. It’s just going to be sandwiches again,” he said.
“That’s fine with me.”
They ate their sandwiches and then returned to the living room. Her pain came on a little stronger, and she would have liked to take a pill. But she wanted to talk to Jacque and feared she’d fall asleep in the middle of the conversation if she took one. They definitely made her sleepy.
“Okay, let’s get into this,” he said with a bit of reluctance in his tone.
“The evening that I was attacked, Jackson Scott came into the store to buy something for his latest honey. Do you know him?”
“I’ve seen him around, but I don’t know him personally,” Jacque said. “There are very few people I know in town.”
“As far as I’m concerned, he’s not only the district attorney but he’s also a major sleazebag. He picks out a woman and love-bombs her for a couple of dates and then breaks up with her and moves on to his next victim.”
“Sounds like a real piece of work,” Jacque replied dryly.
“Yeah, anyway, for the first time ever, he asked what I was up to when I wasn’t working at the store. It was odd for him to ask me that.”
“Why would he want to kill your mother?”
“This is only a wild supposition on my part, but what I was thinking was maybe he was a client of my mother’s and somehow he got scared that she was going to tell his secrets. And I even speculated on what his secret might be.”
“What’s that?”
“Erectile dysfunction.”
He stared at her for a long moment and then threw back his head and began to laugh. It was a full-blown deep laugh she’d never heard from him before. It rumbled pleasantly in the air, and she loved the sound of it and the way his green eyes lit up with his mirth.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said as he sobered. “Of all the things I expected you to say, that wasn’t one of them.”
“But think about it,” she continued. “He has a real playboy reputation. Maybe he dates the women until it’s time for him to have sex with them, but because he can’t perform, he just breaks up with them.”
“I suppose that could be right,” he replied. “So who else have you been thinking about?”
“Charles Lathrop was initially on the cop’s suspect list and as far as I’ve heard he’s still on it. He’s a wealthy businessman who came to my mother for a love spell.”
“Yeah, I remember. The spell didn’t work, and he was angry with your mother. What do you think about him?”
She frowned thoughtfully. “I’m not quite sure what to think about him. I’ve heard that he’s an arrogant ass, but my gut says he isn’t the killer. Still, he should continue to be on our suspect list. The only other person left on our original suspect list is Jeb Tyler, the owner of the bank.”
“Was he seeing your mother?” Jacque asked.
“I have no idea, but he is a prominent member of town who might have secrets he didn’t want exposed. That ends the list we had made, but I’ve thought of a few others to add.” She winced as she shifted positions, her pain ever-present.
“And who would those be?”
“First of all is Greg Hatterly, who is on the city council. Secondly is Hugh Lauren, who owns the Voodoo Lounge and last is Howard Griffen, who owns the grocery store.”
“Speaking of the grocery store, when I pick you up after work tomorrow, we need to stop in there so I can get some groceries.”
“What do you mean when you pick me up after work?”
Once again, his gaze was intent as it held hers. “I will be taking you to work and picking you up afterward,” he replied.
“Oh, Jacque, surely I can drive myself without any issues,” she protested.
“Nope, not going to happen,” he said firmly.
“You didn’t sign up for all this.”
“Yes, I did,” he replied with a little bit of terseness in his tone. “When I signed on to help you with your plan, I also signed on to deal with whatever came up. Somebody tried to kill you, and I’m not going to allow that to happen.”
“I wonder why they aren’t going after you?” she mused.
“Probably because you’re the brains of the operation and whoever is after you knows that if you’re no longer around, our little investigation will stop.”
“You wouldn’t keep investigating to see who killed me?” She shifted positions once again.
He released a deep sigh. “I’ve already done at least a thousand investigations in my lifetime. I would probably tell Daniel everything I know and then leave it up to him. That’s what we need to do now.”
She ignored his last statement and instead focused on the first thing he had said. “At least a thousand investigations? What does that mean?”
He broke eye contact with her and instead gazed at some point over her shoulder. “In my former life before coming to the swamp, I was a Baton Rouge homicide detective.”
He hadn’t really wanted to share that information with anyone here in Dark Waters. He was aware of her staring at him in stunned surprise. He finally returned his gaze to hers.
“I knew it,” she said softly, her eyes still widened in response to his confession. “I knew you were smarter than the average Joe when it comes to these matters. What made you quit that job to move to the swamp?”
He felt as if he’d opened up a whole can of worms, and more than anything he wanted to put the lid back on. “Burnout,” he replied curtly, hoping not to invite any more questions. “And I’ve watched you for the past twenty minutes squirming with pain. You need to take another pill.”
She narrowed her beautiful eyes. “Are you wanting me to take a pill in the hopes that I’ll fall asleep and stop talking…stop asking questions?”
“Maybe,” he replied. “But I can also see that you’re in a lot of pain.”
“I am,” she admitted. She leaned forward and grabbed the pill bottle from the coffee table.
“I’ll go get you a glass of water.” He got up from the chair and a moment later handed her the glass.
She shook out a pill and chased it down with the water, then handed him back the glass. “I still have questions for you. Jacque, I’d like to know you better. I believe you’re worth knowing better,” she said, her voice soft and her gaze caring.
It touched him. She touched him, and he hated it. “Get some rest,” he replied gruffly.
She read on her phone for about twenty minutes and then fell asleep. He used the quiet time in an effort to recenter himself.
The fact that he had a strong physical attraction to her coupled with the fact that he genuinely liked her was a dangerous combination.
He didn’t want to like her, and he definitely wished his intense desire for her would just go away.
The last thing he wanted was to really care for her.
The last time he’d cared about someone really bad things had happened.
Afraid of where his mind was taking him, he got up and went to the kitchen table.
He stared outside the window. Rain still came down from the heavy gray clouds. At the moment, they reflected his mood. The talk about the people left on their suspect list had concerned him.
He hoped like hell she didn’t intend to continue visiting those homes for an opportunity to search for her mother’s book. After being beaten up so badly, surely she would recognize the amount of danger she would be in if she continued on that path. She was stubborn, but she certainly wasn’t stupid.
And who had beat her? God, he would love to know. It took a special kind of man to beat up a woman. Who had killed the voodoo queen, Mystique? That murder was what had set into play these dire circumstances for Monique.
It had been just about four months now since the murder. Jacque knew from his own experience as a cop that once a case went on that long it grew cold. Leads dried up, and people’s memories faded. There was a possibility now that the crime might never be solved.
As far as who had beaten Monique? There were no clues to follow, Daniel had told him they had tried to identify where the box that had been left on her porch had come from but so far they had been unsuccessful.
The note inside had been handwritten and hadn’t been matched to a particular person.
So it was equally possible her case might not be solved as well.
Jacque had never liked loose ends, and this was one he definitely didn’t like.
Dammit, these crimes needed to be solved by law enforcement and not by a beautiful woman all on her own.
Now that he realized the assailant could have learned about what they were doing by listening at his windows, the possibility that a person from the swamp was the killer was a very real thing.
He shoved all these thoughts away. He hadn’t had a moment of complete peace since the minute he agreed to help Monique. She had brought chaos into his life.
She had also brought a warmth and vibrant energy that he’d been missing for a very long time. She made him smile and reclaim his sense of humor.
He released a deep sigh. All he really knew was he was tired of thinking about murder and mayhem. And he definitely didn’t want to think about his desire for the woman sleeping on his sofa.
She slept for about an hour and awakened with her beautiful smile in place. “I feel so much better,” she said as she swung her legs around to sit up.
When she’d come in from her shower, he’d not only noticed the bruising on her skin but also that her legs were slender and shapely.