Chapter Twelve #3
He took a drink of the juice and shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? Why on earth would Mystique’s best friend kill her? Apparently, his brain wasn’t thinking clearly.
Yet his gut tightened with continued thoughts of Nola. Nola, who had pressed so hard for Pierre Guidry to be arrested for Mystique’s murder. Nola, who seemed to know everything that went on in the swamp.
Power and the potential of blackmail. Those were the reasons somebody would want Mystique’s client book. Had Nola gone to Mystique’s shanty that night with the intent of killing her friend and taking the book?
Had Monique run to the arms of her mother’s killer for comfort and was she now in danger?
He jumped up out of his chair and hurried to his bedroom where he put on his holster and gun.
Adrenaline suddenly pumped through his veins as a sense of urgency filled him. If he was wrong about this, then no harm, no foul. However, if his gut was right, then Monique could be in mortal danger.
He left his shanty, his heart beating frantically in his chest. He ran through the swamp, fear for her a living, breathing entity inside him.
How long had she been gone? Dammit, how long had he slept? Was he wrong about all this? Would he find Monique and Nola peacefully seated on Nola’s sofa and having a chat? Or was he already too late? Had Nola already killed Monique and dragged her body out into the swamp to be discovered later?
He ran like he’d never run before, unmindful of the branches that tried to snag him, swiping at the Spanish moss that threatened to blind him. Finally, Nola’s shanty came into view. He raced to the front door and instead of knocking, he tried to open it. It was locked.
“Nola!” he yelled and banged on the door.
“Jacque!” Monique screamed from inside and the terror in that scream gave him a strength he didn’t know he possessed.
He crashed his shoulder into the door. Once…twice…and it sprang open. With a deep breath he stepped inside.
Instantly he saw Monique. She rose from the floor by the end of the sofa, blood coming from wounds in her arms and on her chest.
“Behind you,” she screamed.
At that moment Nola jumped on his back, and a sharp pain nearly stole his breath away. He knew she’d stabbed him. Still, he managed to yank the woman off him, and he cast her to the floor.
She held a big bloody knife in her hand, and she stood from the floor with a guttural cry. She came at him again and stabbed out, but he kicked her in her stomach, and she fell backward.
His breaths came in labored pants as he pulled his gun. “Nola, stop, or I’ll shoot you,” he said. He didn’t even want to look at Monique, for if he gazed at her all bloody and afraid, he knew without question he would shoot Nola dead. “Drop the knife, Nola. It’s over.”
“She attacked me for no reason,” Nola exclaimed. “She came at me like a vicious animal. I had to protect myself from her.” She dropped her knife, and he kicked it to the side out of her reach. “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to go after you, but I’m scared and…”
“Shut up,” Jacque snapped. “Monique, are you all right?” he asked without taking his eyes off Nola.
“I… I’m okay.” Her voice still radiated tremendous fear, and she had begun to quietly weep. “Sh-she killed my mother, Jacque. She’s the one who beat me and tried to kill me, too.”
“That’s utterly ridiculous,” Nola scoffed. “Can’t you see her grief has obviously muddied her brain?”
“I told you to shut up,” Jacque said. “Monique, honey, do you have your phone?” In his peripheral vision, he saw her move to the sofa and grab her purse. “Call Daniel. Tell him to hurry before I kill Nola.”
“I’m an innocent woman,” Nola cried. “I didn’t do anything but try to protect myself.”
Jacque kept his gun pointed at her while Monique made the call.
The wound in his back burned, and chest pain radiated out to his shoulder, making it difficult for him to draw a deep breath.
However, he wasn’t concerned about himself.
He was worried about Monique. How many times had Nola stabbed or cut her?
After she made the call to the police, she collapsed, still weeping softly, in a chair by the sofa while he held Nola captive on the floor.
Monique’s eyes were now closed, and she’d gone silent, making Jacque’s worry about her rise higher. “Monique…you with me?” he asked.
Her eyes fluttered open. “I’m here.” She closed her eyes once again.
Thankfully, it wasn’t long before he heard the sounds of sirens in the distance. And it wasn’t long after that when Daniel and four of his men came into the shanty.
Daniel took one look at the scene and then gazed at Jacque. “Somebody want to tell me what’s going on here?” he asked.
“Nola killed my mother,” Monique said as more tears once again filled her eyes. “She has Mama’s client book. It’s in the kitchen with her cookbooks. She confessed everything to me. She was going to blackmail the clients, but my mother refused to do that, so Nola killed her.”
“Jacque, put your gun away,” Daniel said. He reached down and yanked Nola to her feet.
Jacque put his gun back into his holster as Daniel handcuffed Nola.
“They have it all wrong,” Nola said desperately to anyone who might listen to her. “Monique has gone crazy. I would never harm a hair on Mystique’s head. I would never…”
“Shut up, Nola,” Jacque said once again. “We need an ambulance for Monique,” he said urgently to Daniel. “As you can see, she’s been hurt.”
“EMTs are coming,” Daniel replied. He turned and looked at Luke Madison, one of the officers who had come in with him. “Get Nola out of here,” he said. “Get her into a jail cell, and we’ll sort all this out later.”
By the time Nola was escorted out, the EMTs came in with a stretcher. It was only when Monique was carried out that Jacque felt a sense of relief.
“Johnny… Roger, keep this shanty locked down and under guard until I sort things out at the station,” Daniel instructed.
“And get that client book into an evidence bag. Before you do that, make sure you take plenty of photographs showing where it’s located.
” He turned back to Jacque. “Needless to say, I need you to come into the station so I can get a full picture of what happened here.”
“No problem,” Jacque replied. He turned to head out the door, hoping he had enough breath to walk to his car and drive into town.
“Dammit, Jacque, your whole back is bloody,” Daniel said in alarm.
“Yeah, Nola managed to stab me before I got her under control. I think she might have nicked my lung because I’m having a bit of trouble breathing,” he admitted.
Daniel released another string of curses. “The ambulance has already left. Can you make it to my car? I’ll drive you to the hospital.”
Minutes later, in the passenger seat of Daniel’s car, Jacque leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
It was over. It was finally all over. The killer had been identified and arrested, and Monique was no longer in any danger. It would be safe now for her to go back to her shanty, back to her own life. And he would return to his own life. It was what was best for both of them.
Eventually she would forget that she’d thought herself in love with him. She would find a man who could love her without reservation, and he’d go back to his life as a loner.
He just didn’t know why these thoughts made it even more difficult for him to breathe.