Bayou Betrayal Page 10

  Gary went back to his notes. If Monique had made noise about not believing the shooter acted alone, maybe he did have an accomplice, and that accomplice needed her taken out of the equation.

  Which meant someone was serious about harming her.

  He logged onto the law enforcement database for Monroe, Louisiana, searching for the branch that handled murders. Once he found the number, he lifted the phone and dialed. Then waited.

  “Monroe Police Department, how may I direct your call?”

  “This is acting sheriff Gary Anderson, from Lagniappe, Louisiana. I’d like to speak to the officer who handled the Kent Harris murder case eleven months ago.”

  “Hold, please.”

  Classical music hummed against his ear. He found himself typing the report to the beat of Beethoven.

  “This is Investigator Walkin. How may I help you?”

  Gary launched into his spiel of who he was and where he was from. “I’d like to ask you a couple of questions regarding the Kent Harris case.”

  “Yeah, I was in charge of the investigation. Closed case, though.”

  “I know it’s closed, but I had a few questions, if you don’t mind?”

  “Shoot.” The guy’s arrogance seeped over the connection.

  “I’ve been reviewing some of the facts and wonder if you ever considered whether the murderer had an accomplice.”

  “Look, I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but George Knight confessed to shooting Kent Harris.” Indignation blared not only from Walkin’s words, but from his tone, as well.

  “But doesn’t it seem odd that he drove himself and pulled the trigger?”

  “Forensics backed up his claim. Gunpowder residue on his right hand. Coroner said the angle of the shot fired jived with what Knight told us in his confession. Open-and-shut case.”

  “Isn’t more than one person normally in the vehicle during a drive-by?”

  “What’re you trying to say?” Walkin’s tone dropped to almost a growl. “Look, we investigated the case by the book. Confession. Murder weapon found. Forensics match. All lined up.”

  “Sounds very neat and tidy.”

  “Buddy, I don’t know where you’re going with this, but I don’t have time to talk about what-ifs in a closed case. Knight’s in jail. End of story.”

  “But wh—”

  “I’ve got to go.”

  The phone slammed in his ear. Gary replaced the handset to its cradle, his mind whirring. Walkin sure sounded defensive about a case he said was open and shut. Having been in law enforcement as long as he had, Gary knew there were always complications, loose ends. But Monique’s husband’s case sure seemed to have been tied up in a tidy package.

  Like Monique, he didn’t buy it.

  The Louisiana state crime database was his next stop. He typed in the search for Kent Harris, and ordered a copy of the file to be sent to the office. He’d read the case file himself and see what inconsistencies he could find.

  Mike stuck his head in the door. “Hey, wanna grab lunch? It’s quiet around here and I’m starving.”

  Gary glanced at the clock. “It’s only eleven.”

  “I’m starving.” Mike sucked in his cheeks, looking like a fish. “I’m gonna waste away if I don’t eat.”

  Chuckling, Gary stood. “Why not?”

  After notifying the dispatcher they were taking lunch, they walked across the street to the little diner. A bell tinkled as they opened the door, and the smell of grease and pepper slammed against them. A waitress motioned them to a corner table with a curt nod while she delivered drinks to a neighboring table.

  “Now I’m really hungry.”

  Gary laughed at the man who might be his competition. But it was hard not to like Mike. Built like a middle linebacker, the ex-military man was funny and outgoing.

  The waitress dropped two menus on the table, told them the special of the day was meat loaf, and took their drink orders before scuttling off to the kitchen. She returned with their soft drinks.

  “I’m having the jumbo burger with japs and fries. Wait, the onion rings.” Mike closed the menu. “I’m gonna have both.”

  Gary shook his head. “I’ll have an open-faced Reuben and salad.” Unlike his colleague, his physique couldn’t process so much grease and fat. He glanced over the restaurant, nodding at those he made eye contact with.

  Then he froze.

  Monique sat in a booth on the opposite side of the room. She had her face scrunched in concentration as she stared at her date.

  Her date was a very handsome man, who looked at her as if he wanted to gobble her up for lunch.

  Gary lost his appetite, and the greasy smell turned his stomach.

  Who was that guy? Gary recognized him from around town, but didn’t know who he was. Better yet, why was Monique with him and staring at him with such rapt attention?

  TWELVE

  Parker’s phone buzzed.

  “Hello, Parker Fenton here.” He smiled and nodded at Monique. His leering unnerved her, but she pasted a smile on her face.

  “Yes, and the buyer would like to close as soon as possible.” Another pause. “Hold on a moment and I’ll ask.”

  He pressed a button and grinned. “The seller will close as soon as your lender has processed all the paperwork and everything’s good to go. Who’s the lender, so I can give you an estimate of how quickly they’ll work?”

  “I can have a cashier’s check for them this afternoon. Is that soon enough?” Monique sat back. The reaction would be immediate.

  He didn’t disappoint. His mouth dropped before he checked himself and pressed a button. “We can have the cashier’s check ready this afternoon. Get back with your seller and see if that will work for them. Fax me the closing paperwork at the office. Thanks.” He shut the phone. “You don’t need funding, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you didn’t need to know. I told you I had preapproval. I just didn’t tell you I actually had the money in hand.” She took a sip of her iced tea, which was nearly gone. Only the melting ice provided any liquid.

  A frown marred his handsome features. “I see.”

  No, he didn’t, but she didn’t feel obligated to explain. It was none of his business, not that she tried to be mean or rude. She just wanted to conduct her business and be done.

  She let her gaze dance over the other occupants of the diner. Her eyes collided with Gary’s.

  Now she wished she hadn’t eaten that entire salad—something seemed to be caught in her throat.

  Gary stared at her, openly and unabashedly. She wanted to squirm in her seat, but thought better of it. She’d been hard on him yesterday. After tossing and turning most of the night, she realized he’d only been doing his job. At least he checked into every suspect, which was more than she could say about the police back in Monroe.

  Pushing down her unease, she smiled and waved Gary over.

  He said something to the other man decked out in the deputy uniform before walking over. “Surprised to see you here.”

  She motioned him to the vacant chair beside her. “Deputy Gary Anderson, you know Parker Fenton?”

  “Not officially.” Gary offered his hand. Parker stared at it a moment before shaking.

  “Parker showed me a house today. One I’ve put a contract on.”

  “Oh?” Gary turned his head to peer at the other man.

  While Parker did his song and dance about the property, Monique sensed the competitive tension between the men. They were close in age, both handsome in their own way, both physically fit. Either would be a good catch for a woman.

  But something about Parker didn’t seem as appealing to her. Especially when placed side by side next to Gary. He just didn’t measure up.

  “Where, exactly, is the house?” Gary asked.

  Parker jumped in before she could describe the place. “Out off Harden.”

  “Oh, yeah. I know the area. Really
nice places out that way.” He scrutinized her, making her itch to fidget again. He had a certain look that held a question, but one he wouldn’t ask. “So you liked the place that much?”

  She smiled at Gary. “It feels like home.”

  His returning smile warmed her heart. “What attorney are you going to use to do the closing?”

  Huh? “Attorney? What about a title company?” Confusion washed over her.

  Parker cleared his throat. “Well, we can use a title company if you’d like, but you won’t be able to close today. We don’t have one locally. I can request a rep from one in another city to come over.”

  “But that’d take extra days, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is Mom driving you up the wall already?” Gary asked.

  She put her hand on his arm. “No, nothing like that. I just need my space. I’ve lived alone for several months now, and have gotten quite used to it.” Could he think she didn’t like his mother, or wasn’t appreciative of being allowed to stay with her? “Your mom’s great, and I really appreciate her hospitality, but…”

  “Hey, I totally understand. I’d go nuts if I had a roommate.”

  “Wait a minute—you’re staying with his mother?” Parker’s eyes were wide, and a crease etched deep between his brows.

  She didn’t owe him any explanation. “Long story, but yes.” She placed her crumpled napkin in her empty bowl. “So, I can use an attorney for the closing?”

  “Most around these parts could handle it. I can recommend several I’ve worked with.”

  “Try Dwayne Williams,” Gary interrupted.

  “You know him?” Monique asked.

  “He handled some issues for CoCo LeBlanc Trahan a couple of years ago.” His wink almost went undetected.

  But she’d caught the gesture and knew what he was getting at.

  Parker cleared his throat. “I’ve never worked with him before. We normally use Mr. Canatara. He’s a good man and very well up—”

  “I’ll call Mr. Williams’s office as soon as I leave here.” She winked back at Gary.

  “Good.” He glanced over his shoulder, then stood. “Well, looks like my lunch is arriving, so I’d better go.” He nodded at Parker. “Nice meeting you.”

  His eyes softened as he smiled at her. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from watching him saunter across the crowded diner. Something about the way her heart hiccupped when he smiled and winked at her made her believe there could be life, and romance, after Kent.

  Feeling this spark after only knowing him five days? She must be more stressed than she’d thought.

  When it rained, it poured.

  Gary sifted through the paperwork mounting on his desk. He and Mike had only been gone an hour, yet his in-box nearly overflowed. Little things but ones that demanded an answer.

  Just as he neared the bottom of the stack, Bob Costigan strolled into the office. “Got the sample to the lab. They should be able to let me know in the morning if it matches the accelerant used in the Harris fire.”

  “Good.” He signed the last piece of paper and shoved it in the out-box for Missy to pick up later. “So where does this leave us in the investigation?”

  “For now, we have to assume Ms. Harris isn’t involved in the arson.”

  “I don’t believe she is.”

  “Really?” Bob shook his head and slumped into the chair opposite his temporary desk. “Either way, a lot hinges on the sample being a match. I went ahead and requested a list of buyers of the diesel from Mr. Fenton.”

  The name…“Wait a minute. Terrence Fenton. I think I met his son today.”

  “Isn’t that a coincidence?”

  Gary didn’t believe in coincidences—he believed everything that happened was part of God’s master plan.

  So what did it mean that both Fenton men could be linked to Monique? His law enforcement curiosity kicked in.

  “We should order a background check on Terrence Fenton, just in case.”

  Bob finally cracked a grin. “You beat me to the punch. I was going to ask you to pull the report.”

  Amazing, the man’s face didn’t split. Gary reached for the request form.

  “Of course, if the sample isn’t a match, that report means nothing.”

  “But if it is, we’re a step ahead of the game.”

  “Yep, and every day counts. We’re already behind by four days, but that’s always the way it is in my line of work.” Bob leaned the wooden chair back on two legs.

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “Does the son work with the father?”

  “Nope. He’s a real estate agent.”

  “Father makes fuel, son sells houses. Odd combo, wouldn’t you say?”

  Gary was saved from answering by his cell phone. “Anderson.”

  “Well, hello there, Deputy.”

  Heat spread across his neck at the sound of Monique’s voice. He only prayed it didn’t reach his cheeks in front of Bob. “Hi, yourself.”

  “I wondered if you’d like to run out to the house I’m now the proud owner of, as of four-thirty today.”

  “So the closing happened?”

  “I called Mr. Williams. Thank you for recommending him. He’s really nice and knew his stuff.”

  “I know CoCo was very pleased with the work he did for her. Coming from her, that’s a high compliment.”

  “You’re making me nervous to meet her.”

  Would he ever learn to think before he spoke? “No, you’ll love her and she’ll adore you. I meant her recommendations are genuine.”

  “Well, Mr. Williams was exactly what I needed, so thanks.”

  “No problem. I didn’t want you to use someone that Realtor uses all the time. No telling what kind of behind-the-scenes kickbacks are going on.”

  “Do you have a report on Parker? I didn’t know when I called him. I ju—”

  “Oh, nothing like that. He just gave off a strange vibe.” Yeah, commonly referred to as the green-eyed monster, but Gary wasn’t ready to address his feelings and why Parker stirred up jealousy. Not now. Not until he’d caught Monique’s arsonist.

  “I noticed that a bit, too.” She let out a low sigh. “So, would you like to come see my house? I’d really like to get your opinion.”

  Something unfamiliar curled inside him. She wanted his opinion? “Sure.” He glanced at his empty in-box. “I’m finishing up here. I can meet you there in fifteen minutes.”

  “You know where it is?”

  “Off Harden, from what Fenton said.”

  “Right on Wyatt Lane. I’ll see you shortly. Bye.” The smile in her voice came through the connection.

  And filled him with trepidation. Off Harden, right on Wyatt Lane? That would mean…No, it couldn’t be. Especially after just having thoughts about coincidences. It had to be a different house.

  “Got a hot date?” Bob’s voice jarred him back to reality.

  “No.” But the heat moved up his neck to the back of his head. “Only helping a friend out who needs a second opinion on buying a house.”

  “Couldn’t help but overhear the name Fenton. Ought to see what you can find out about him while you’re there.”

  He stood and straightened the papers in the out-box. “I don’t think he’ll be there.”

  Bob snorted.

  “Well, if he’s there, I’ll see what I can find out.”

  Bob rose out of the chair. “I’m going back to the fire site. Sometimes when I’m alone, I can detect more.”

  Gary hesitated. Monique or his job? “Would you like me to go with you?”

  “I said, when I’m alone I can detect more.”

  “Oh. Okay, then. See you tomorrow.” He didn’t wait for a reply, just headed down the hall, checked out with Missy to let her know all the paperwork had been completed and crossed the parking lot.

  The late-afternoon sun teased the tree branches as he drove out of town. He’d always appreciated how beaut
iful this area was. The bayou backing up to the land meant no neighbors would move in behind. As he thought of Monique, it occurred to him that the location, while quiet and breathtaking, also left the homes isolated. Someone could creep in undetected.

  And there was still the possibility the house…No, it had to be a different house.

  The sense of foreboding stayed with him as he turned onto Wyatt Lane. He slowed, admiring the stately homes. Farther down, the houses became smaller. Almost at the dead end, he spied Monique’s white SUV parked at the end of a driveway.

  She stuck her hand out the window, waving. Oh, no. It was the house.

  He turned in and followed her slow pace, taking in the lay of the land. While the property hadn’t exactly been totally re-landscaped, it didn’t look like it had when the original owner had lived here.

  Monique bounced out of her vehicle and met him, a huge smile plastered across her face. How could he tell her?

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” She grabbed his hand and tugged him around the side of the house. “Look at this—a gazebo and a flower garden. With a bench and everything.” Excitement made her cheeks flush.

  He planted his feet as he stared at the bayou butting up against the land in the backyard. The palms lining the water’s edge had grown quite a bit since the last time he’d been there, making the bayou appear more ominous.

  “Come on, you have to see the inside. It’s amazing.” She pulled him back to the front yard. “Now, I’ll want to get the porch totally refinished and treated. And the flower beds will need a lot of attention, but I think Hattie will take the task in hand and give me some great direction.”

  “Um, Monique…about this house. Y—”

  “Don’t say anything until you see it.” She jammed a key into the front door and turned the lock. “At least we still have some daylight. I’ll have the electricity turned on in the morning.” She stood in the living room. “It’s really small. I’m not sure why, because the rest of the house is spacious and airy. But I’ll use this as a sitting room.”

  She glowed like a kid on Christmas morning. “You have to see the master bedroom. It’s amazing.” She led the way down the hall.

  Dread slowed his steps. Did she get a title search? Did she know who had owned it before? Surely she wouldn’t have bought the house if she’d known.