Megan looked back and forth between me and Steven. “Did something happen while we were gone?”

  “Susan discovered another murder victim.”

  “Oh, my goodness. What happened?”

  I relayed the story of how Rachel and I discovered Celina Baum’s body.

  Megan looked at me sympathetically. “The experience must have been doubly difficult since the spot was the same place where Jim was shot.”

  “Discovering a body is always traumatic and the location made it more so.” I shrugged in an attempt to dismiss Megan’s anxious look. “But then I’m a magnet for murder victims. I either discover their bodies or they end up dying in front of me.”

  Steven shook his head. “But then you start trying to solve the mystery of their murders and almost get killed yourself. You don’t have nine lives like your cat.”

  Megan cringed. “Please tell me you’re not thinking about investigating this one.”

  “I’ve been going back and forth with the idea. Maybe I’ll keep up with the investigation and use the info for a plot in my next book.”

  Both she and Steven looked at me in disbelief. I know what they thought. I was not being honest with them or myself.

  “Try to stay out of the investigation if you can,” Steven said. “But I know you all too well. Even if you start out following the police work, something will happen to draw you in.”

  I hated to admit he was right. Finding the body plus knowing the victim created the first step in making me want to delve right into the mystery of who killed Celina.

  Megan and Steven left about four in the afternoon. For a while after they left, I felt at a loss. I chalked my feelings up to separation from my twin brother and his wife. Then the kids started squabbling over something silly. I chuckled to myself. Things are back to normal. At least what has become normal over the last year.

  That night after I got the twins settled into their beds, I retired to my bedroom and sat on the side of the bed for a while. I looked up when I heard a soft meow. Katy, my cat, peeked in through the crack in the door. I called to her. She ran in and hopped onto the bed. She wanted some petting which I gladly afforded her. Eventually she curled up at the foot of the bed and fell asleep.

  If only I could fall asleep so easily. I lay wide awake in the dark, thinking about Celina’s murder. Everything that occurred at the post-funeral reception and the identity of the man from whose presence Willow tried to escape raced through my mind. A former diver for Gallagher Salvage…looks like there could be a connection between Celina’s murder and the Gallaghers after all.

  Something had drawn me to the Gallagher place. Maybe I missed my calling. Am I psychic? All the events beginning with the discovery of Celina’s body seemed to be leading me to investigate the murder.

  But I hesitated to get overly involved. A year ago my children lost their father. They couldn’t lose me too. Investigating on my own had put me in some dangerous situations in the past. Sticking my nose in another case like those could easily end my life. Perhaps I should make an appointment for a session with New Orleans psychic Taylor Evans sometime soon. She wasn’t just a psychic, but a good friend. She’d never steered me wrong in the past. I shook off the idea for the present. She couldn’t make the decision for me.

  Eleven

  Sunday July 26

  Rachel called me at ten in the morning to invite me and the kids over for a barbeque. “That sounds great. Count us in.”

  “Brad’s going to stop by for a while. He started to decline but when he heard Remi would be here, he changed his tune real quick.”

  “Hmm, sounds like you might be playing matchmaker.”

  “Sort of,” she said. “Remi admitted she found him attractive and I can tell he feels the same way about her.”

  “So you decided to force the issue.”

  “It couldn’t hurt. Who knows whether anything will come of the match?”

  I suddenly recalled the last barbeque I was invited to at Rachel’s. “Are any other single males invited to this shindig?”

  “Are you interested?” she asked with faux innocence.

  “Don’t you dare try to fix me up again like you did the last time. When or if I return to the dating scene, I’ll find my own man. Now did you invite someone to match up with me?”

  “No, I did not. But I hate to see you alone forever.”

  “I’m not alone. I have the twins.”

  “The twins aren’t going to be with you when they get to be adults. Believe me, they will fly the coop before you realize it.”

  “Rachel, let’s not talk about this anymore. What time do you want us to come over?”

  “About noon-ish. Don’t worry about bringing a dish or anything. Come on over and have a good time.”

  After we ended the call, I thought about the barbeque the Marchands held back in May. The man Rachel invited over for me was a deputy who had previously been a NOPD police officer. Another officer, who like Jim, had wanted to get away from the problems inside that department and the crime which continuously kept escalating in New Orleans. I can’t even remember his name. He was a nice guy, but that was all I felt. Of course I was miffed at Rachel for trying to push us together. I sure hope she told the truth and had not invited a “date” for me.

  At noon I walked next door with the twins. The delectable aroma of meat cooking on a grill floated toward us. The smell made me hungry and reminded me of my meager breakfast of two slices of toast and a cup of coffee.

  Sounds of voices and laughter greeted me when I opened the gate to the back yard. Matthew and Caroline spotted kids they knew and rushed over to them. Rachel saw me and motioned me over to a half-circle of chairs where she and two other women sat drinking wine and munching on the usual array of snacks from the small table in the center of their gathering.

  I recognized both women—Margaret de Silva, the mayor, and Remy Granger, Danny’s granddaughter.

  “Susan, you know Margaret and Remi, don’t you?” Rachel said.

  “Of course I do.” I greeted each one with a smile. “Good to see you both. Madam Mayor, you must be enjoying some relaxation from public office today.”

  She laughed. “I sure am.” She lifted a Nike clad foot as an example. “I was expected to show up to work at City Hall in a dress and heels. That was the dress code set by previous mayors, but I sent out a memo Friday to my staff concerning office apparel. Office casual is now appropriate. I don’t mean jeans and tees, but dresses and heels for women, suits and ties for men are now optional.”

  “You really stirred up the system since you became mayor.”

  “That was my intention. But please call me Margaret. Strictly for town business am I addressed as Madam Mayor. And only the men who lost the race call me by that title. Sometimes I detect a bit of sarcasm in their voices.”

  My turn to laugh. She really didn’t mince words. I liked her. Despite her casual attire, her hair was perfectly coifed. Who would’ve thought a woman and a former hair stylist would ever be elected by the traditionally conservative people of Cypress Lake? But over the years since we moved here, a strong majority of the parish had evolved into a much more liberal society. It was about time for women to push out the ‘good ole boys.’

  I pulled up a chair next to Remi. “So how’s the TV news business?”

  “With the rising crime rate in our multi-parish area, the news business is booming. This is my first day off in a while. I told them I was also taking tomorrow off.”

  “Good for you,” I said. “I’m sure the station has other investigative reporters on staff, don’t they?”

  “There are two others.” She grimaced. “But we’re all vying for the choice assignments. I’m probably going to lose out on at least one, but I needed some R and R.”

  “How about a glass of wine,” Rachel offered me. She reached beside her chair into a small ice chest and pulled out a bottle containing a tiny amount of liquid. “Oops, I didn’t realize we’d already drunk so much. Come with me inside to get another bottle and more glasses.”

  Rachel seemed a little unsteady on her feet when she rose from the chair. Was she the one who had drunk so much? This wasn’t like her at all. I followed her inside the house.

  “The air conditioning in the house feels wonderful,” I said, trying to make conversation. “I love these barbeques, except for the heat. Oh, and the mosquitoes, but they have the decency to wait until the late evening to join the party.” I’m usually pretty straight with Rachel, but for some reason I felt awkward asking her about how much she’d had to drink.

  She pulled a bottle of Pinot Noir from the refrigerator and set it on the counter.

  I grabbed a glass from the cabinet. “How many more glasses do you think will be needed?”

  “Oh, three or four. A few of Danny’s deputies and their wives or girlfriends are supposed to be coming over. You can leave the glasses sitting on the bar for now.”

  “Are you okay? You seem to have had more to drink than usual.” There, I finally said it.

  She heaved a deep sigh. “It’s that obvious?”

  I nodded. “Did something happen?”

  “Danny and I got into an argument this morning. He’s definitely signing up to be a reserve deputy.”

  “I’m not sure why you’re so against his going back into law enforcement. Are you afraid of something happening to him?”

  She remained silent for a long moment. “I suppose I am.”

  I couldn’t remember her ever mentioning her anxiety, even when Danny was the sheriff. Every spouse of a law enforcement officer has fear in the back of his or her mind about their loved one getting killed by a criminal. Police work is a dangerous occupation. Danny had been with the sheriff’s office in one position or another from the beginning of their marriage.

  “I admit I always feared Jim getting shot, but I knew he’d never work at any other occupation. As you know, I didn’t want to move out of New Orleans to live in Cypress Lake, and fought the move with all my might. I finally came to the decision that he and I would end up in a divorce if I didn’t.”

  It occurred to me that this conversation was somewhat of a role reversal for me and Rachel. She was old enough to be my mother and had always been the one to give me encouragement about life as a police officer’s wife and other situations. Another thought struck me.

  “Does your concern have anything to do with the anniversary of Jim’s death?”

  She leaned against the kitchen counter and looked at me with surprise. “I ought to be shocked you would suggest such an idea. But you and I think so much alike, I should have known you would come to the right conclusion.” She glanced away for a short moment. “Miriam’s connection in this latest murder has stirred up bad memories. I’m also worried about you.”

  I jerked my head back and stared at her. “Me? Why are you concerned for me?”

  “The fact we discovered Celina’s body at the same place and on the anniversary of Jim’s murder affected you greatly. I’m afraid this will reverse the progress you’ve made getting back to your life.”

  “Was that the reason for our conversation concerning the empty nest?”

  She nodded.

  I reached over and hugged her. “My advice is to not worry about something happening to Danny and forget about Miriam and me. That’s easier said than done, believe me, I know. But it makes life a whole lot less stressful. If Danny stays around the house doing nothing, both of your lives will be miserable.” I held out my glass. “Now pour me some of that vino.”

  She uncorked the bottle. “But no more wine for me.”

  Despite my upbeat words, an empty feeling worked its way through me. Maybe she was right. But I wasn’t ready to start dating again. Who knows? I might never be.

  We walked back out into the yard and joined the others. To my relief the food was ready. If I drank any alcoholic beverage on an empty stomach, I would have to be carried home, not to mention being a bad role model for my kids.

  “We were about to send out a search party for you two,” Remi said, setting her plate of food on the table now devoid of snack food.

  I smiled. “We’re here now. Looks like we need to get over there before the men scarf up all the food.” I started to check on the twins to make sure they had food, but my help wasn’t needed. Either they or one of the other kids’ moms had already fixed them each a plate. What was that Rachel warned me about…? They would fly the coop before I realized it. I dismissed that thought. There’s at least ten more years before I have to worry about them leaving me.

  Remi was sitting by herself so I walked over with my plate. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Of course not. It appears I’ve been deserted.” She gave a faux look of indignation. “Rachel and Mrs. De Silva would rather sit with their husbands than with me.” A troubled look crossed her face. “Susan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  I waved off her apology. “That’s not the reason I wanted to join you. I have to compliment you on the wonderful job you did reporting on the discovery of Celina Baum’s body. I know you weren’t on the scene, but I’ve seen a couple of your other reports where the victim hadn’t been removed yet. It’s so disturbing when reporters do their best to show the body in situ. I can’t understand why they believe it’s necessary to display a lot of blood and gore.”

  She nodded in agreement. “Most stations’ management believe the more blood and violence is televised, the higher the ratings. Our owner and a few others are trying to back off to a certain extent. Thank goodness changes are beginning as far as local news shows go. However, in New Orleans it’s kind of hard not to report murder and other violence.” She eyed me with caution. “You knew Celina, didn’t you?”

  “I knew her from my volunteer work at the Cypress Food Pantry. We weren’t close friends or anything like that, but she was a really nice person and felt strongly about helping people.”

  “Does anyone know why she happened to be out in the middle of nowhere? I tried to get information from Brad, but he’s pretty closed mouth about the case.”

  She kept watching me as if to determine when I would get upset talking about a murder victim. Or maybe she was afraid talking about this murder would bring back bad memories about Jim’s death.

  “As far as I know, no one has found out why, or else the sheriff’s office knows and isn’t releasing the information.” I added, “I’ve been trying to figure out why she was out there myself.”

  “Do you know anything about the rumor that the area is a drop off spot for illegal immigrants?”

  “Nothing, except that I’ve heard the rumor.” I wondered if we were both trying to see how much information we could get out of each other without actually asking. I’m normally a little more open to a person with whom I feel comfortable, but I wasn’t sure how much info I could safely dole out and not get into trouble. A decision was made for me. Brad strolled towards us.

  “Ladies, y’all seem to be having a pretty serious conversation. It’s too nice a day for depressing talk.”

  Remi seemed to force her smile. “Serious is not necessarily depressing.”

  Brad glanced at me. “I have the feeling y’all were discussing Celina Baum’s murder.”

  What is his problem? I jumped in with both feet. “So what if we were? Her murder is news. Why can’t we talk about it?”

  His face reddened. “Because I don’t want the case jeopardized because of civilian meddling.”

  I was really angry now. “First of all, I don’t know any information to tell that would put the case in danger. Even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t divulge classified info to the press. I used to be married to the chief of police. I know better.”

  He glared at me. “What I’m worried about is you investigating on your own and my office having to use valuable resources to rescue you.”

  Apparently the conversation had become louder than I thought. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Danny walking fast in our direction. Other guests turned to see what was going on.

  “Is there a problem?” At six-four, Danny loomed over all three of us. His piercing blue eyes studied each of us in turn as if we were children in a school yard conflict…which I suppose, in a way, we were.

  “Brad seems to think I’m trying to take over his job.” I immediately regretted my barb.

  Danny arched an eyebrow. I couldn’t determine whether he found me annoying, or if he was amused and trying not to show it. “I can’t imagine you as the sheriff.”

  My anger started to subside. I even managed a laugh. “That would be a sight, wouldn’t it?”

  Remi started laughing and the atmosphere lightened. Even Brad smiled.

  I turned to him with a repentant look. “I apologize for my remark. I’m touchy about criticism of my past…uh…adventures.”

  “Apology accepted. I’m simply looking out for both of you.” He turned his attention to Remi. “Investigative reporters have also been known to get into trouble.”

  “I’m always careful,” Remi said, her expression amiable. “Like in your job, I have to go to the news or crime in this case. Most of us follow guidelines for our safety. Come, I’ll tell you all about the unofficial rules so you can relax.” She crooked her arm inside Brad’s and led him off toward the rest of the crowd.

  Danny waited until the pair was out of earshot before questioning me. “What’s the deal between you and Brad?”

  I blew out a deep breath. “I resented being ordered not to do something. I may had gotten into trouble in the past with my snooping around, but I wasn’t wrong about who the bad guys were. You might not believe this, but sometimes events happen to me, or I meet a person that draws me into the situation. Murder seems to follow me around.” I shook my head. “Maybe Brad thinks I’m leading Remi astray.”

  He chuckled at my remark. “I’m not sure that’s possible. Calm down and tell me. What brought on all these warnings?”