The Annex connected to the main building by a covered walkway. The décor was pretty much the same as the other part.

  Today the whole place looked deserted. Every employee in the building must have taken off to tend to storm preparation. Had Bill left too?

  I slowly opened the outer door and stepped inside a small reception area. No receptionist in sight. Good. I don’t have to deal with anyone.

  The door to Bill’s private office was closed. I raised my hand to knock, but quickly drew back. Shadows moved behind the frosted glass panel on the door. Male voices could be heard.

  I recognized one as Bill’s. The other sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. I came to attention upon hearing his words.

  “I could lose my license over this whole affair. Not to mention the possibility of prison. They continue to investigate even after my report. Marchand and his city cohort have been interrogating deputies and police department officers about the attack on Mrs. Foret. It won’t be long before one of them admits involvement in…”

  “You have nothing to worry about, Richard,” Bill interrupted. “Marchand hasn’t found anything he can take to court so far. There’s nothing he can question about the suicide ruling.”

  I smothered a gasp. The other man was Dr. Breaux. The first time I met him something about him had left a bad taste in my mouth. I kept listening.

  “Look, I understand your concern,” Bill said. “Today Marchand has his hands full with the storm. It’ll be a while before he can go back to investigating Jim’s death or anything else.”

  “‘Anything else’ meaning the drug business and your cocaine addiction.”

  “Don’t ever mention those two subjects inside my office again. Someone could be lurking outside. We shouldn’t even be discussing your ruling here. I can’t afford to have any of this uncovered.”

  “Neither can I.”

  “Then go back to your morgue and keep your damn mouth shut.”

  When I heard the door opening I ducked behind the receptionist’s desk.

  Dr. Breaux made a quick exit of Bill’s office. He threw open the hall door and rushed out, allowing the door to slam shut behind him.

  The conversation between him and Bill sat like a weight on my chest. I wanted to confront Bill. Tell him what I thought of him. If I went to Danny or Ken, I’m sure they’d be more than interested. Legally we didn’t have a leg to stand on.

  I had no proof this conversation even occurred. It would be a matter of he said-she said. I knew who would be believed in court. I would be vilified or determined to be emotionally disturbed. They needed to know regardless.

  I rose from my hiding place and started for the door. I didn’t quite make it.

  Fifty-three

  “Susan? What are you doing here?” A shocked expression seized Bill’s face.

  I spit out the words. “A better question might be how long have I been here?”

  He casually set the cell phone he had in his hand on the top of a nearby cabinet. A condescending smile formed on his lips. His pupils looked dilated. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You know very well what I mean. Your conversation with Dr. Breaux was quite interesting.”

  “You found our talk interesting? He and I were having a simple conversation between friends.” He moved closer to me. “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately with Jim’s death and the episode with the LaBauves.”

  I stood my ground. “Don’t patronize me. I know what I heard.”

  Bill kept his expression pleasant and smiled again. “I believe you misunderstood our conversation.” He pulled a handkerchief from his left pants pocket. Raising it to his nose, he sniffed a few times and wiped his nose. “Doctor Breaux and I were discussing my allergies.”

  I noticed a number of dark spots on the white handkerchief. Could it be blood from a nosebleed?

  “Allergies didn’t have anything to do in your discussion with Doctor Breaux.”

  “Okay. What do you believe you heard?”

  “Dr. Breaux falsified his report to rule Jim’s death as a suicide. He complained to you about the possibility of being arrested and losing his license. He also mentioned drug business and your addiction, to which you ordered him to never mention those subjects in your office.” I eyed him with disdain. “Does that about cover it? Oh wait. You told him those were items you couldn’t afford to have uncovered. You told him to go back to his morgue and keep his damn mouth shut.”

  Bill’s smile faded. He stuffed the handkerchief back inside his pocket and reached into the other pocket. He pointed a small handgun at me. “I can’t count on you doing the same.”

  “Is that the gun you used on Jim? Or did you have one of your underlings shoot him for you?”

  He averted his eyes for a brief moment. “Officially Jim killed himself.” He directed a determined look at me. “With you out of the way, everyone will believe Doctor Breaux’s version.”

  My stomach clenched. I wanted to throw up. “You’re disgusting. How could you kill a man you called your friend? Kill him in cold blood? You sent the note to him, didn’t you?”

  “What note?”

  “You know what note. The one in which you told him to meet you at the spot.” I kept my gaze centered on his face. “You and Jim were the only people who referred to the place where his father committed suicide by that name.”

  “Why would Jim agree to meet me at a place where he knew there was an active investigation into drug activity?”

  “Because he thought he could keep his long-time friend from destroying himself.”

  Bill’s lack of immediate response told me everything I needed to know. Or so I thought.

  “You found the note in one of the books,” he said. “Originally there wasn’t any note.”

  I shook my head in dismay. “What do you mean?”

  “Jim discovered I was involved, but hadn’t informed Danny yet. I phoned Jim late the night before and told him to meet me at the spot the next day as early as possible. Come alone without the sheriff and I’d turn myself in to him, away from the public.

  “The message in the book was placed there as a hint to make you believe my phony story about Jim’s affair with Angie.”

  “Obviously the money from the drug operation meant more to you than Jim’s friendship.”

  He swallowed hard. “I needed the money to buy drugs. I couldn’t let him stop me. I’m not going to allow you to curtail my enterprise either.”

  Retrieving his cell phone from the cabinet, he keyed in a number using his thumb while he kept the gun trained on me. “Where are you...? Get over to my office ASAP, but don’t attract attention… Susan is here…just listen. Have Hernandez bring an unmarked car around to the back of the Annex.”

  Adrenaline pumping, I turned and ran to the door. He was quicker. Grabbing my arm, he pulled me back and clamped one hand over my mouth.

  He pressed the gun to my temple. “I can’t let you go, Susan. You’re not going to ruin me.”

  I kicked backwards and hit him in the shin.

  He gave a short groan and muttered an obscenity. His grip loosened. I pulled away.

  The door opened. Jack LeBlanc burst into the room.

  “Hold on to her,” Bill ordered, and then locked the door.

  My heart hammered in my chest. The click of the lock sounded unrealistically loud.

  Jack took his boss’ order literally. He squeezed his hand around my arm so tight it felt like a vise gripping me.

  “What’s the deal with her?” he asked.

  Bill’s expression hardened. He shook his fist in the direction of the morgue complex as if Doctor Breaux could see his display of anger. “That idiot Breaux came in here complaining about the possibility of him losing his license and going to jail. She heard the whole conversation.”

  “So here’s our chance to get rid of her right now.” Jack’s mouth spread into a thin-lipped smile, an evil smile showing a side of him he had kept well hidden all the years he’d worked for Jim. But then, so did Bill. His hidden dark side was a lot harder to swallow. He and Jim had been friends since childhood.

  In macho style, Jack yanked his gun from the holster and pointed it at me. “If you scream or say anything, I’ll shoot.” His statement sounded like a cliché line from old movie.

  “You won’t get away with this.” My voice held as much fake bravado as his macho and my retort was just as ludicrous.

  Jack’s lip curled in a sneer. “No one will be suspicious of my actions. The strain of your husband’s suicide was too much for you. You went berserk and attacked the mayor, so I had to shoot you.”

  “No shooting in my office. We’ve got to get her out of here without anyone seeing us.” He thought for a brief time. “Leave here and get into the car with Hernandez. I’ll bring her out to the car. You take her to the old fishing camp where we picked up the last delivery.”

  LeBlanc frowned. “What are you going to do in the meantime?”

  “I’ll follow in my car after a little time has passed so nothing seems suspicious,” Bill said. “Put her out of sight after I bring her to the car.”

  “How do we know you’re not going to leave us holding the bag?”

  “Jack, don’t go paranoid on me now,” Bill said. “Get out of here before someone discovers what’s going on. I am the mayor. People do report to me periodically. I’ve also got to put in an appearance at Emergency Preparedness.”

  Dazed, I listened to their plans for getting rid of me. Snap out of it. They would succeed unless I did something…anything.

  LeBlanc left the office. Bill turned to face me with his gun pointed directly at me.

  “Let’s go into my private office.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Bill’s laugh sounded pretty close to evil. “Not hardly.”

  He ushered me into his office and shut the door. Reaching deep into a desk drawer he pulled out a small metal box. He handed me a key. “Unlock it.” He shoved the gun in my face.

  My hand shook as I tried to insert the key. I made it on the second try. Inside were several packets of a white powdered substance.

  “Treasures from your drug operation?”

  “It’s excellent stuff.” He smiled his politician smile. “It only takes a few snorts and you’re flying high.”

  “Does Tracy know you do this?”

  He nodded. “She’s not evacuating to Monroe because of the hurricane. She took the kids and left me. Told me I needed to go to rehab.”

  “Yet she granted your request to buy a replacement pair of two hundred dollar shoes.”

  “Yeah, Tracy’s a good woman.” His voice held a hint of remorse.

  Obviously she told him about our meeting at Court House Café. “So she only believes you’re an addict, not that you’re involved in a major drug trafficking operation.”

  “Of course she doesn’t know about my involvement.” He pointed to the packets. “Take one of them.”

  I hesitated.

  He waved the gun in my face. “Do it!”

  I did as he ordered.

  “Now put it in your pocket.”

  I knew then his plan included setting me up to have drugs on my person after he killed me. I suppose toxicology results could be tampered with, especially if Dr. Breaux performed my autopsy. I shuddered to think about such outrageous actions.

  There must be a way to call attention to myself. I could just start shouting for help. But then the drugs would be found on me. Bill could very easily say anything to turn things against me. Jack’s ridiculous scenario about me going berserk had begun to take on a more realistic appearance. I took in a deep breath and tried to calm myself. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Also a cliché. My life seems to be filled with them.

  “Okay, let’s go,” he said.

  With one arm across my shoulder and the other holding the gun to my ribs, he escorted me out into the hallway and toward the rear entrance.

  Fifty-four

  I tried to survey the area without being obvious, but Bill rushed me toward an old Ford Bronco waiting nearby. He shoved me into the back seat too fast for me to take in much of my surroundings. I did get a glimpse of a CLPD officer walking across the main parking lot behind City Hall toward his car.

  From that distance it wasn’t likely he saw me or if he did witness what I would consider a bizarre scene, he may have thought the mayor had a mistress and had gotten his men to spirit her away.

  Joe Hernandez, who sat in the driver’s seat, averted his eyes from my face. I was surprised he had the decency to do so.

  Jack exited the front seat and got in back with me. He immediately pushed me down on the floor.

  The force of his action knocked the breath out of me and the impact to the floorboard busted my lip. At least I’m leaving my DNA in the car. And if I can move my hands enough to get the packet of cocaine out, I will also leave the drugs in here.

  I couldn’t tell which direction we were traveling. Jack kept pushing my head down on the floor. The carpet reeked of mold. Who knew what other smelly or even infectious element resided in there.

  Using my left hand, I reached under my body and tried to reach the right pocket. My heart beat sped up. If I got caught, everything was over. After a couple awkward minutes, I felt the small bump in my jeans pocket. I kept pushing the packet upward until it slipped out on to the floor.

  I waited a while to make certain Jack hadn’t seen my maneuver, and then moved the cocaine under the front driver’s seat.

  A rush of rain pounded the vehicle. Windshield wipers made their rhythmic slapping noise. Distant rumbles of thunder added to the din.

  “It’s going to be hell driving down that road,” Joe shouted over the weather noises. “It was bad enough without all this damn water.”

  Jack mumbled an acknowledgement. “We’re going to have to tie her up to keep her from escaping before the boss arrives at the camp.”

  “Use your cuffs,” Joe said with annoyance. “There’s no need to refer to him as the boss anymore. She knows his identity.”

  “It’s habit. One we’d best not get out of doing. She won’t be around much longer to talk.”

  My throat tightened.

  “You think once she’s dead everything will go back to normal?”

  “Why wouldn’t it?”

  “Don’t be so damn naïve. Marchand won’t let things drop. You’ll have to get rid of him too. I knew from the start there were too many people involved in this operation. Before long, another person who is mixed up in it will slip up and he’ll have to go. Killing after killing won’t go unnoticed. The Feds will be in here like stink on shit.”

  Jack blew out a long breath. He didn’t respond to Joe’s assessment of their situation.

  A faint memory of a yoga breathing exercise came to mind. I closed my eyes and inhaled, then exhaled. Inhale positive energy; exhale negative energy. I kept repeating the mantra to tune out the claustrophobic world I currently inhabited.

  My semi peaceful mind was suddenly jogged when the Bronco went over a bump or drove through a pothole. I moved my head a fraction of an inch. Through peripheral vision I saw the tops of trees blowing in the high winds. Their limbs appeared like foggy images seen through the pouring rain.

  Blood pulsed in my temples. My head wound throbbed in time with my heartbeat. Not surprising with the tension coursing through me.

  We must be close to the place they’re taking me. I wondered if these two were going to kill me. Certainly Jack would jump at the chance. Or were they saving me for Bill so he could shoot me himself?

  The Bronco came to stop, but the men made no move to exit the vehicle. A short time later, maybe five or ten minutes, the rain seemed to slow. I had lost track of time so my estimate of the time frame could be off.

  I have come close to being killed twice in my life. Was the third time the charm? Or was it three strikes and I’m out?

  Maybe Steven had put out the word I was missing. My thoughts strayed to the people I loved the most…my children, my brother, and the memory of Jim. My father and even my mother.

  Jack leaned forward slightly. I heard a metallic sound like a small chain clinking. The handcuffs! The big man would have his wish. Even though his arrest wouldn’t be official, I’d be cuffed and taken to a prison of sorts. On death row, literally and figurative.

  Fifty-five

  Danny had just walked out of his office, headed for a meeting at the Emergency Preparedness Center when his cell phone rang. After hearing Susan’s earlier message, he half expected the caller to be her. He checked the display. This number wasn’t familiar, but he decided to answer.

  “This is Steven. Sorry to bother you, but I haven’t been able to get in touch with Susan. She was supposed to be headed to our parents’ house after she picked up extra supplies for the cat.”

  “She’s not answering her phone?”

  “No, I’ve called quite a few times and left messages.”

  “Maybe she’s driving and didn’t want the distraction.”

  “I know my sister. Call it twin’s intuition. I believe she’s gotten herself into trouble.”

  “I’ll check around and see if I can locate her. Call you back.”

  Danny mulled over Susan’s message. He couldn’t answer her at the time. A hint of guilt tugged at him.

  She’d somehow discovered who owned the expensive shoes that left the print at the crime scene and who wrote the note she found. Whoever he was, she may have gone to confront him. Hell, no may about it. Knowing her, she did go.

  He shook his head. Susan reminded him so much of Rachel back when she pursued her own investigation of the murder for which her brother had been arrested. Steven no doubt was correct. Susan had gotten herself in to trouble again.

  He punched in Fred Ardoin’s number and advised him he would be late for the meeting. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  The latest rain squall had passed through for the moment. Danny walked to the entrance and stepped outside. He surveyed the buildings across the street. The café was closed as well as most of the other businesses.