With the groceries stored, I walked out to check the mail. As I made my way down the driveway to the street-side box, I recalled the first time I had checked the mail here almost nine years ago. That day I received one of those oxymoronic good rejection letters for a manuscript I had submitted. Good, in that it wasn’t a form letter, but an encouraging personal note about my writing style. But it was still a rejection. I smiled at the thought. I now have one published novel to my credit and on the way to finishing another. Not that I won’t ever receive another rejection letter in my career, but I hoped it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

  However, there was a letter in the box, not from an editor, but from the school the twins attended. Two school supply lists were enclosed. Oh, gosh, I forgot about the date. School starts again on August fifth—a week from yesterday. Classes seem to start earlier and earlier every year.

  I didn’t know whether to be happy for school starting or not. On the one hand, a more structured environment would be good for the twins, especially Matthew, but I hated to think about the possibility he might act out at school.

  ~ * ~

  He answered his cell phone as soon as it rang. The number on the caller ID suggested there could be a problem. This person didn’t call unless trouble was imminent.

  “I heard they found the gun,” his caller said.

  His heart raced. He paced back and forth in front of the window, clenching his phone tightly. “What the hell are we going to do now?”

  “What do you mean we? You’re the one who lost the package, among other things.”

  “Yeah but you’re also in this up to your eyeballs. We need to stick together.”

  “Unfortunately you’re right. Our partner is not happy with you at all. I regret getting involved with that guy.”

  “You and me too.” He was surprised to hear the other man admit a mistake. He never liked this so-called partner from the very beginning. “Have the cops confirmed it’s the murder weapon?”

  “I don’t know whether they have or not. Rumor is some kids found it where I assume you tossed it. Susan Foret’s son hid the gun in his room.”

  He didn’t like the sound of this development, but tried to make light of the situation. “One good thing, the cops didn’t find the package on Narcisse.”

  “There are three reasons why.”

  He clenched his jaw. The SOB always has to show he knows better than me.

  “One, Narcisse wasn’t the carrier,” the caller continued. “Two, he was, but hid the package somewhere out in the swamp. Three, the cops don’t always give away all the details.”

  “Well, that’s just great. Susan Foret should be taught to stay out of business that doesn’t concern her.”

  “I agree, and there’s also another person who needs a lesson or two. I’m sure you know who. He’s getting a little too close to the truth. Besides that ICE agents have been snooping around here. So no more screw-ups on your account. Do we understand each other?”

  “Yeah.” He ended the call before he said something he would regret.

  Twenty-three

  Megan phoned me about two that afternoon. “I’d like to meet with you if you’re available.”

  “Is this to discuss Alex’s case?”

  “Yes, I have some questions about your encounter with him.”

  “Sure, when do you want to meet? Can you come by the house?”

  She hesitated. “I’d rather meet at a more private location. Can you get a sitter for the twins?”

  “I don’t think so. I had a hard time locating one on Monday when I unexpectedly had to go to the food pantry. My favorite sitter Tina told me when she last sat with them she would be visiting out of town relatives until a few days before school starts next week.”

  “Hold on a minute,” she said. “Steven’s on another line.”

  I suppose I could get Rachel to watch them for a short time, but I hated to ask her since she took care of them on Monday.

  Megan came back on the line. “I have you a sitter. Steven agreed to come and stay with them. In fact he was on his way to see me when he called. He should be there in about twenty minutes.”

  “Okay, where do you want to meet?”

  “At Carole’s office. She’s letting me use an office while her colleague is on vacation. Do you know how to get to her office?”

  “I believe I can find the place. It’s on Cedar Street, right?”

  “That’s it. I’ll see you in forty-five minutes or so.”

  I changed into a nicer blouse than the one I’d worn earlier to go grocery shopping and then freshened my make-up while I waited for Steven to arrive.

  Changes in my attire and using cosmetics again began in earnest about three months ago. I realized that Jim wouldn’t want me to let myself go. I shook off my self-pity and pulled out of the spiral of depression I had fallen into after his death. While I searched for his killers, adrenaline kept me going, so it was a big letdown after they were all arrested.

  My heart skipped a beat. I knew what future event had been making me feel impending doom. I’d soon be required to go to New Orleans for the federal trials. Reliving the trauma will be devastating.

  No! I didn’t allow those criminals to defeat me then and I won’t let them do it when I face them at trial.

  Caroline came out of her room when Steven walked in. He had arrived a little sooner than expected to which I teasingly commented, “My goodness, I can’t believe you’re early.”

  He feigned an annoyed look. “I can always go back out and wait five more minutes.” He pretended to start towards the door.

  Caroline giggled. “You can’t leave again, Uncle Steven.” She tugged on his arm to pull him back. Of course, Steven pretended to give in.

  “See, she doesn’t mind if I’m early.” His expression clouded. “Where’s Matthew?”

  “He’s in his room.” My shoulders sagged. “You heard?”

  “Megan told me.” Steven walked over and hugged me. “I hope you weren’t too hard on him.”

  “I tried not to be, but he knows better than to hide a gun in the house, especially under the circumstances. So he’s grounded until further notice. No bike riding or other outdoor activities with his friends and no friends inside either.”

  Steven nodded in agreement. “I’ll try talking to him. I might be able to find out what’s going on with him.”

  “I would appreciate any insight into his thinking.”

  “Okay you better get moving. Megan’s anxious to speak to you about her case.”

  I left the house and drove toward an older section of town. The area where Carole’s office was located had street names of trees, even a Cypress Street, which sometimes led to confusion since the main street in our subdivision held the name Cypress Avenue.

  Professionals like attorneys and CPAs had turned old frame or stucco houses on Cedar Street into offices. Not exactly sure of the building’s location, I slowed the car until I spotted a shingle identifying the offices of Bordelon, Stanton and LeBlanc, attorneys-at-law. White gravel covered a small space intended for client parking next to the quaint bungalow style house.

  Carole had another office in New Orleans as most of her cases tended to be heard in the federal court house there. She was originally from Allemand Parish and continued to maintain this office with her partners Tim Stanton and Sharon Leblanc. On occasion she took on a local case not related to immigration.

  Inside the office, Carole greeted me and led me back to the room where Megan had set up her work space. I sat in an upholstered chair close to the desk.

  “I take it Steven arrived in a timely manner,” Megan said.

  “He did.” I smiled at what was a family joke. My brother has never been known for arriving on time for anything, including his birth. He was born almost twenty minutes after me. Another ten minutes and we would have different birthdays. “I really appreciate everything you and Steven have done for me and the kids. I would have had to bring them with me.” I glanced at Carole. “I know that we wouldn’t have any privacy. Caroline overheard a conversation I had earlier with Megan and asked all sorts of questions like ‘was Alex a bad man because he came here illegally?’”

  “I’m sure you explained everything to her satisfaction,” Megan said.

  “I must have. When she grows up she wants to help those people.”

  “Excellent,” Carole said, clapping her hands. “The next generation of immigration attorneys is in the works.”

  We all laughed.

  “Okay, let’s get down to business,” Megan said with authority. “Susan, I’d like to go over what happened the day Alex arrived at the food pantry.”

  “Josh and I were talking in the office I use there. Sandy Dugas came running in saying my limited French was needed to speak to a man named Alex who stumbled into the compound in bad shape. She had already called EMS. After I saw his condition, I didn’t think he would make it much longer. He kept mumbling something that sounded like emeraude.”

  Megan nodded. “I thought that’s what you told me. What happened after he mentioned it?”

  “He didn’t say anything else. I assured him help was on the way. Did he mention emeraude to you?”

  “He refused to answer after I asked him what he meant.”

  “I advised him to be completely truthful with us if he wanted our help,” Carole said. “I’m not sure I got through to him. He appeared frightened.”

  “What is his current condition? I tried to find out but no one would give me much information. I asked Danny and he said serious but stable.”

  “This morning he was much improved. Either Brad or ICE will be arresting him soon, depending on whether there is enough evidence to charge him with Celina’s murder.”

  “The backpack doesn’t prove he killed her, that’s for sure.”

  Megan tapped her fingers on the desktop. “It is circumstantial at best, but considering Alex’s immigration status, a jury might vote guilty.”

  Carole snorted. “Of course, you know how all illegal immigrants are murderers and rapists.”

  “The DA could make it appear as though Alex wouldn’t have possession of the backpack unless he killed her and took it from her.” I sighed. “And now the murder weapon has possibly been found. The prosecution could make a connection to Alex.”

  “True,” Megan said. “I don’t see how they can prove Alex was ever in possession of the gun. I’m certain any fingerprints on the weapon were wiped before it was tossed into the swamp.”

  “Is there any way for me to speak to Alex? I might be able to get him to confide in me.”

  Megan exchanged a look with Carole who nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Carole’s cell phone buzzed. She glanced at the display and rose from her chair. “Excuse me, I have to take this. It’s another client.” She walked out of the room.

  “Have you heard whether the gun is the weapon used to kill Celina?”

  Megan shook her head. “Not yet. I expect to hear soon.”

  “I’m sure Brad put a rush on ballistics testing.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You can count on it. He certainly is anxious to arrest someone for murder.”

  “He has reprimanded me and warned me about getting involved in the case. But I feel I’m already caught up in it. Rachel and I discovered Celina’s body. Alex showed up on a day I wasn’t supposed to be at the pantry. Now Matthew had the possible murder weapon hidden in his room. I’d say it’s fate.”

  “This is not to encourage your involvement, but it’s beginning to look like fate.” She studied me with her gaze. “You will be called on to testify if he’s charged with murder.”

  Butterflies flitted around in my stomach. “I may be in for continuous court visits then.”

  She widened her eyes. “Oh, trials for the men who killed Jim…is that soon?”

  “Yes, I’ll have to check my paperwork for the exact date. They postponed the trial once already. Seems like the date is sometime in September. I’m not looking forward to having old wounds reopened.”

  ~ * ~

  Jill Doucet’s phone rang. The number on the display indicated her husband Mike was the caller. “Hey, where are you?”

  “Can you talk?”

  She glanced around the room. Claire was in her collection room. Marcie didn’t seem to be around, but she could be lurking in another room listening to every word. “I’m going to walk outside to make sure the two you-know-whos can’t eavesdrop.”

  “Good idea,” he said. “Have you seen Rick this morning?”

  “No, but I heard his truck leave about an hour ago.” She walked down the front steps and down the path toward the driveway. “Okay, tell me where you are.”

  “I’d rather not say over the phone. I’ll be home in about thirty minutes so I’ll fill you in on how things went.”

  “I’ll be glad when this is over.”

  “Soon, hon,” he said. “How’d your meeting go with Claire?”

  “Nothing out of the ordinary. She chewed me out again for allowing Susan Foret access to the house. I don’t know what set off her alarm this time. She already called me on the carpet for the incident right after I allowed Susan to come inside.”

  “You ought to know Claire by now after all these years. She’s so worried about outsiders learning about her collection.”

  “You mean her ill-gotten gains? But you and I are privy to how she obtained those items. Her obsession with the damn emeralds and that shipwreck are going to be the death of her and us too.”

  “Don’t worry. We’re going to be alright. I hate to turn on Claire, but I have to think about us and our future son or daughter. You need to stay calm for the baby’s sake.”

  She placed her hand on her stomach. Anything could happen in the next seven months, especially for a forty year old woman in her first pregnancy. Her heart raced at the thought.

  ~ * ~

  “I’ve been trying to get hold of you.” Brad eyed the undercover agent from across the table at Marie’s Diner. “Your boss Agent Gorman and his partner Jackson came to see me.”

  Holden took a swallow of his coffee, and then leaned closer. “He’s not my boss. Somebody higher up on the chain is who I report to. In fact we’re working on different cases. Those two might mess up mine. So why did Gorman call you in?”

  “He informed me that Mike Doucet had agreed to cooperate with them on their case against the Gallaghers. They told me to back off from the Baum murder investigation. They’ve taken custody of Narcisse.

  “According to them, their case was much bigger and more important because it involved international affairs, the murders of American citizens, and smuggling of jewels and other artifacts as well as illegal immigrants. I figured they referred to the attack on Claire Gallagher’s boat among other things.” Brad studied him, anxious to hear his response.

  He rubbed the five o’clock shadow on his face for a long moment before answering. “You figured right. What’d you tell them about backing off?”

  “I told them I would unless I saw they were fixing to deport Narcisse without trying him for murder. He’s guilty of Celina’s murder and he probably hid those emeralds he was carrying down in the swamp somewhere.”

  Holden nodded. “No doubt. But unless he tells somebody where he hid them there’s no chance of locating the jewels.”

  “Well, he’s not talking. I thought he might have buried them around the spot where he tossed the gun, but we couldn’t find anything. I wouldn’t put it past Susan to have the stones in her possession.” He waved his hands angrily. “I mean, look, her son had the gun hid in his room.”

  Brad left the diner angry with himself for his stupid remark about Susan. She didn’t have any reason to hold on to those emeralds if she had found them. She might be too curious for her own good, but she wasn’t crooked. In hindsight, he was beginning to wonder about Holden’s statement. If he’s working a different angle, seems like there ought to be more coordination within ICE.

  This case was not going the way he wanted. If he couldn’t prove beyond a shadow of a doubt Narcisse killed Celina, he would be stuck in this backwoods forever.

  Twenty-four

  The meeting at the law office had drained me. The thought of appearing in court to face those men who killed Jim, plus the present situation with Alex, sapped my strength. A cup of espresso or even a latte could put some energy back in me.

  A new coffee shop had recently opened its doors in town. I decided to stop by and check out the place. Coffee Heaven—a cutesy name—was located on Main Street not far from City Hall. I had reservations about driving past another place which held so many memories, but I had avoided it as long as I could. The last time I saw Cypress Lake City Hall was over a year ago. Today I drove past the building as fast as I could legally do so.

  Inside the coffee shop, I inhaled aromas of fresh brewed coffee and sugary treats that reflected the business’ name—Heaven. To me coffee and a doughnut or sweet roll seemed like perfect comfort food.

  I ordered a latte and selected a sweet roll covered with white icing from the glass-fronted counter at the register. A booth next to the window was empty so I slipped onto the green vinyl seat with my order.

  After taking a sip of the hot latte, I savored a delicious bite of the roll. As I finished eating, I remembered I should have told Megan about my visit to Claire Gallagher’s home and the conversation between Lucie and Octave.

  I left the shop with a second latte in a to-go cup, planning to drive back by Megan’s office and fill her in. I stopped to pull my phone from my purse and started to key in her number.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man walking toward me, a cell phone in his hand. I didn’t pay too much attention to him until he walked straight into me.

  My coffee cup and phone launched out of my hand. Coffee splattered on the sidewalk. My phone ended up in the grass next to the concrete. I would’ve followed coffee and phone to the ground if he hadn’t grabbed me.