“I agree. I’ll go up a few streets on the other side of the subdivision to see if I can locate them.”

  “Good. I’ll take this side. Give me a holler if you find them.”

  Caroline was in her room reading. She looked up when I entered.

  “I have to go searching for Matthew and Reed in the car. You’d better come with me. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

  She appeared hesitant to stop reading.

  “Bring the book with you in the car,” I said.

  Minutes later we left the house and began the search. I drove up every street on the right side of Cypress Avenue, the main street in our subdivision. No sign of the boys.

  My cell phone rang. I stopped the car and answered.

  “Did you find them?” Renee’s usual calm voice was starting to sound unnerved.

  “No, I haven’t seen them or their bikes. Do you think they went out of the subdivision?”

  “That’s possible. Maybe we…” A clap of thunder drowned out her words.”

  A few large drops of rain splashed on the windshield. Another boom of thunder, a flash of lightning and the bottom dropped out of the sky. Rain poured down so hard I could hardly see past the hood.

  Renee and I had been disconnected, but she phoned back. “I spotted them riding down the street from the direction of Richard Road.”

  “I’m on my way. Matthew’s definitely in trouble now.”

  “So is Reed.”

  She referred to the road leading out of the subdivision past the grove of trees a short distance behind my house. The land beyond is heavily forested and in some spots marshy, an area I imagined to be full of snakes and other assorted critters. Not a safe place for kids to play. Boys are more adventurous and want to explore, but dangerous is dangerous.

  Caroline pretended to be reading, but I saw a ‘serves him right’ smile on her lips. Her expression reminded me of my own reaction as a kid whenever Steven got into trouble.

  The rain had slowed by the time I reached Renee’s house in time to see her ushering the boys into her garage along with their bikes. I told Caroline to stay in the car. She happily agreed.

  I didn’t want to say too much to Matthew while I was so angry with him, but I let him know by the look on my face and the tone of my voice. “I did tell you not to leave our subdivision, didn’t I?”

  Matthew looked down at the garage floor. “Yes, ma’am, you did.”

  “Where did you go?”

  He glanced at Reed as if asking for backup. Reed stood silent.

  “Where did you go?” Renee repeated my question to her son.

  “We rode down Richard Road way out to where the woods end,” Reed said, shuffling his feet.

  “That’s way too far away from the house for you to ride,” she scolded.

  “Aw, it’s not that far. Besides, I’ve been there before and nothing happened.”

  Renee’s eyes widened. “Get in the house now. Stay in the laundry room with those wet clothes and muddy shoes.”

  He opened the door leading to the laundry room and stepped inside.

  I escorted Matthew to the car and made him wait while I put a plastic sheet left over from some gardening purchases on the back seat. Then got his bike and stowed it in the back of the SUV. I should have made him ride his bike back to the house.

  Neither I nor the twins spoke on the ride around the corner. I unlocked the door and returned to the car to remove the wet plastic from the seat. By the time I got inside the house, Matthew had gone to his bedroom and even locked the door.

  I could understand him being upset with me for reprimanding him in front of his friend, but he and Reed were in the same boat. I’ve never known him to lock himself in.

  “Matthew, unlock the door,” I said as calmly as I could manage.

  “I’m changing clothes right now.”

  I decided to back off a little. “Okay, when you’re finished, bring your wet clothes to the laundry room. Thank you for leaving your muddy shoes in the laundry room.”

  “Okay,” he answered. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  Maybe I was jumping to conclusions, but I wondered about his actions. What was the real reason he rushed to his room and locked the door? Could he be hiding something? But what sort of terrible stuff could an eight-year-old boy be hiding in his room? A frog? A turtle? I guessed I’d find out sooner or later. Whatever it was I hope it didn’t end up in my room.

  Megan’s phone call interrupted the musings about my son and his possible hidden treasures. “What’s up?” I asked, hoping she’d decided to represent Alex. She had.

  “Things have been moving fast. Josh informed me that according to Miriam Baum, the sheriff was headed to the hospital to read Alex his rights.”

  “Wow, Brad is moving fast. A little too fast, if you ask me. I gather Miriam identified the backpack as Celina’s.”

  “I agree. Miriam also moved too fast, in my opinion. Since she has terminated Josh’s contract, he’ll be working with me on this case. Her loss is my gain.” She paused. I could hear paper shuffling around. “As soon as I can get everything together, I’m going up to the hospital. A local attorney in Cypress Lake has gone up there to make certain Alex doesn’t speak to the sheriff.”

  “Who is the local attorney?”

  “Carole Bordelon,” she said. “She speaks French and has experience dealing with Haitian immigrants and also some Vietnamese who speak the language. She’ll be working with me on his case.”

  “Great. I’m relieved.”

  “Don’t uncross your fingers yet. I’m not a miracle worker. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Matthew emerged from his room carrying his wet clothes. I noticed he left the door open. Maybe whatever he tucked away in there wasn’t alive and able to get loose in the house. Or else I misconstrued his behavior. Somehow I didn’t believe I was mistaken. Mother’s intuition?

  Eighteen

  I walked next door to speak to Rachel. Danny was still not back from his support mission for Brad. I couldn’t help being sarcastic. I have two role models for the head of a law enforcement agency—Jim and Danny. Brad didn’t even come close to either of them.

  Granted, Danny no doubt enjoyed his return to law enforcement, but Brad was sheriff now. He should make his own decisions inside of relying on Danny.

  Rachel greeted me at the door. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  “I know a good bit, but I haven’t been able to find out more.”

  “Don’t keep me in suspense.” She sat at the kitchen table.

  I pulled out a chair across from her. “Megan agreed to represent Alex. As she put it, things are moving fast.” I relayed the call I received from her about Brad rushing to make the arrest.

  Rachel shook her head. “And I accused you of jumping the gun to think his arrest was imminent. Surely Brad doesn’t have enough evidence to make an arrest. I hope Danny was able to talk him out of making such an impulsive decision.”

  “Well, if he can’t persuade Brad, the district attorney will decide they do or don’t have a case.”

  “Would you like some coffee? Or how about hot tea?”

  “Tea sounds great. I need something to relax me after the crazy morning I’ve had dealing with eight and nine year old boys who don’t follow the rules. Thank goodness only one of them is mine.”

  She looked more curious than alarmed. “What in the world happened?”

  I told her about Matthew’s bike ride with Reed Hart and my suspicion about Matthew hiding something in his room.”

  “Did you ask him?”

  “No, I didn’t want to accuse him of something he might not have done. After Jim’s death, he began acting up. Then for a while he appeared to be dealing with school and summer activities much better. He didn’t argue with me when I told him to do or not something. Ever since he came back from Gulf Shores with Steven and Megan, he seems to be regressing.”

  Rachel looked pensive as if recalling old memories. “My daughter Jessica rebelled for a while after my husband and I divorced. Then when he was murdered, her behavior became worse.”

  I knew her daughter was from a previous marriage, but she had never mentioned her first husband to me. I hadn’t realized he was murdered. “How did you handle all of that?”

  “I left my job at the University of New Mexico and moved back to Baton Rouge to be close to my family. My brothers all became surrogate dads to her. We went to several counseling sessions.”

  “It certainly worked wonders. Jessica turned out great.”

  Rachel smiled. “Yes she did.”

  The sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway alerted both of us. Minutes later Danny came through the door. From his expression, I’m sure I was the last person he wanted to see.

  Fatigue mixed with frustration pulled at his face. He joined us at the table. “I think I should have stayed on as sheriff for at least another year. I might have been able to train one of my deputies for the job.”

  “What did Brad do this time?” I blurted out.

  “He’s trying too hard to prove himself.” Danny shot me a menacing glare. “And if you repeat what I said I’ll say you’re lying.”

  I leaned forward in my chair. “Danny, as much as I would love to prove Brad is not up to the job, I’d never repeat anything you said to me in confidence.”

  He rubbed his hand across his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take my frustrations out on you.”

  “Tell us what happened,” Rachel urged. “You were up at the hospital?”

  “I won’t ask how you guessed that,” he said. “I finally talked Brad out of trying to get a warrant to arrest Alex Narcisse in his hospital bed. Possession of Celina’s backpack isn’t enough evidence to get an arrest warrant. The DA would have denied the warrant anyway and Brad would have looked foolish.”

  It might sound silly, but hearing Alex’s full name seemed to make him more of a real person. As far as Brad being made to look foolish, I wanted to say…have at it. Rachel said it for me, but in a much nicer way than I would have.

  “Honey, you aren’t responsible for him. Doesn’t he need to learn to do the job without your help? There’s only so much you can do to keep him from looking foolish.”

  He exhaled. “You’re right. I guess I’m not really retired, am I?”

  I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know everything. “So what’s going to happen now? Does Alex have an attorney?”

  He eyed me with annoyance. “I believe you already know the answer to your second question.”

  “Megan?”

  “And Carole Bordelon. So he’s well represented. By the time we arrived at the hospital the two of them were in the room and wouldn’t allow him to make any statements.”

  “I need to go check on the twins. Well…Matthew anyway.”

  “Is something wrong with the kids?” Danny asked.

  I told him about the bike ride episode.

  “He seems to have reverted back to his rebellious ways like he did right after Jim’s death. His behavior after I found him and took him home was highly suspicious.”

  “Susan thinks he may have hidden something in his bedroom,” Rachel explained.

  “Kids these days are a lot savvier than back in the day, but he’s a little young to be hiding drugs,” Danny mused. “Maybe he caught a frog or a turtle and hid it in his room.”

  “That was my first thought. When he finally came out of his room, he left the door open.”

  “Maybe he thinks he’s too old to have his mother watch him change clothes,” Danny said with a teasing tone.”

  “Hmm, I never considered that.” I thought for a moment. “It seems there’s more to it than pre-puberty modesty. Besides, he’s a little young for that, too. In a year or two I’ll take that scenario into account.”

  Rachel studied me for a short moment. “You’ve been on edge lately with everything going on. The anniversary of Jim’s death, finding Celina’s body, and all this business with the food pantry are enough incidents to give anyone a nervous breakdown. He could be picking up on your distress.”

  “You might be right. Caroline asked me this morning if I was okay.”

  “If you suspect Matthew is hiding something in his room, I say find an excuse to go make a search,” Danny said.

  “I think I will. If nothing turns up, I’ll have a long talk with him to see if I can find out what’s bothering him. In the meantime I’ll try to calm my nerves. Yoga? Meditation?”

  As I walked out the door, I heard Danny say to Rachel. “Hon, I think you hit the nail on the head about her nerves.”

  He didn’t know I heard him. I didn’t hear the rest of his remarks. However, I agree with the statement. I couldn’t figure out how to put a positive spin on all the negative events piling up on me daily.

  My psychic friend Taylor Evans popped into my head. I had intended to set up an appointment with her a few days ago, but never got around to doing so. I’ll call now and see if she can fit me in. The premonition of a future event bothered me, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it would be. That crazy feeling of impending doom. Will there be another murder? Or something from my past coming back to haunt me?

  Nineteen

  Wednesday, July 29

  At nine-thirty in the morning, I left for New Orleans to visit Taylor. One of my usual sitters agreed to come in even though the time was quite early for most teenagers while summer still lingered. This late in the season they wanted to squeeze every minute of sleep out of the short time before school begins in August.

  I had managed to locate a photo of me and Celina along with two other volunteers taken at a small get-together not too long after I started volunteering at the food pantry. Taylor would use the picture in her reading. I felt more comfortable seeing her than I would by being analyzed by a psychologist or any other sort of counselor for my shot nerves.

  The opinion of most of my friends and acquaintances was always the same whenever I mentioned Taylor, or the idea of seeing a psychic. So-called psychics are out to scam people, they tell me. How could they know all the things they reveal to a person? Their answer: ‘Fortune tellers’ researched the client on the internet. Everyone knows you can find out anything you want to know about a person by Googling them.

  Originally I picked Taylor from the list because she had a normal sounding name. She wasn’t Sister Barbara or Gypsy Rose. As it turned out, she didn’t even wear a turban, or look into a crystal ball and tell me I was going to come into some money.

  Forty-five minutes later I spotted the Superdome from the interstate. The Dome, now known as the Mercedes-Benz Superdome, was a New Orleans icon and home to the beloved Saints football team.

  I’ve always been a football fan, but I secretly hoped Matthew wouldn’t play the game. There has been so much concern lately over the serious consequences of head injuries. Of course if he wanted to try out for a team, I probably wouldn’t forbid him from doing so. Being a single parent is no picnic.

  I turned off at the Poydras Street exit and drove down the ramp to street level. This part of the roadway beneath the elevated highway with its dim lighting even in day time always seemed spooky to me. Good thing I wasn’t traveling through here at night. I’d be more of a nervous wreck than I am now.

  Driving through the city brought back many memories, some good, a lot bad. How ironic that Jim survived the high crime of New Orleans while serving with NOPD, at the time a notoriously corrupt police department, and then died in a small town that hadn’t had a murder in at least five years before we moved to Cypress Lake. His murder was committed by a fellow cop and a childhood friend who was a public official. It was as paradoxical as a soldier who served three or four combat tours in Iraq or Afghanistan, and came home safely, only to be killed in a traffic accident or a drive-by shooting.

  Before I realized, I had turned the corner onto Taylor’s street. Another New Orleans staple, shotgun houses with their tiny front porches and gingerbread trim, along with the ubiquitous corner grocery store were prevalent in this section of town. Although I grew up in an upper class neighborhood, this older part of the city and the historical buildings of the French Quarter were the New Orleans I loved.

  Taylor greeted me at her front door and ushered me back to her office. I settled into a chair in front of her desk, waiting while she conducted her usual study of my aura.

  “I feel a lot of negative energy coming from you. Recently many unfortunate events have happened. You have worries about getting involved.”

  “Yes, I need to figure out what to do in relation to those recent events. Hopefully your insight can put me on the right track.”

  “You know I can’t make a decision for you,” she cautioned. “I can only tell you what I see. You have free will to choose your path. I don’t need to use my psychic abilities to know you want to investigate a murder. Again, this is a decision for you to make after my reading.”

  “Understood.” In a way her statement disappointed me. I wanted someone’s permission to get involved in a murder investigation.

  “Tell me a little bit about the event all this negative energy stems from.”

  “I discovered the body of a murder victim. Her name is Celina Baum. She—”

  “No more information,” Taylor interrupted.

  “I have a photo of her.” I pulled the picture from my purse and handed it to her. “She’s the one to the left of me.”

  Taylor placed two fingers on Celina’s image. Closing her eyes, she breathed in and out several times. “There are many people, foreigners. They appear frightened. Many are running toward a boat.” She paused a long moment. “I see Celina, lying on the ground. There’s blood on her. She doesn’t appear to be part of the group of foreigners.

  “The discovery of her body disturbs you because you know her,” Taylor continued. “Your friend is acquainted with her also. The victim wanted to help these people. I see a man, one of the foreigners, kneel down next to her. He picks up what looks like a backpack.” She paused again. “He’s still kneeling beside her, but something startles him. He runs away into the swamp, taking the bag with him.”