Bayou born, p.25
Bayou Born, page 25
Cole stared right back at me, grumpy apology written all over his face. “I might have given the lab incentive to prioritize them.”
A trip to the lab would explain his absence for the past few hours. I should have known he wouldn’t sulk or shun me. Well, at least not for so long. Pouting wasn’t Cole’s style.
Unable to put off the inevitable any longer, I broke from him and lifted the paper. “The blood used to make the prints was human.” A lump clogged my throat. “Maggie’s.”
The small puddle on the sidewalk was one thing. But the blood had to have been fresh at the time the tracks were made. Human bodies only contained so much of the stuff. At the rate she had been bleeding . . .
“We’re assuming War was directly involved in Maggie’s disappearance because of the car accident, and she might still be but . . . ” I worried my lip between my teeth. “It makes more sense that a person assaulted Maggie. Had the super gator been responsible, it would have had to drag the body across the road and into the subdivision. There would have been smears, more bloody tracks, something.” I double checked my memory of the scene. “There were none. The sidewalk and surrounding areas were clear.”
Cole grunted in the affirmative that the trail had ended where it began, and I trusted his nose enough to believe his assessment.
“Martin could have driven Maggie to the subdivision and met Jane there,” Miller pointed out. “That would place War in the area at the right time to initiate the accident.”
“Maggie bled out on the sidewalk,” I argued. “He must have driven her from the vet to the school, not the subdivision.”
“We’re missing a step,” Cole murmured. “Or we have the sequence of events wrong.”
“Maggie left work, witnessed Martin back over the dog and ran to offer help. She ended up volunteering, or being pressured into assisting, and got in his car.” That’s where things got muddy. “Dog or no dog, she would have required medical assistance had her injury been sustained at that time. Since she made the trip to the vet’s office without incident, we can assume she was well up to that point.” I mulled over the final clues. “Maggie would have expected Martin to drop her off at the school and for them to part ways. The blood proves she was returned, but why?”
“Martin had her in his car, under his control. Orchestrating her kidnapping required a lot of effort, and he botched it when she bled out. They left no traces behind at the Claremont scene. This was messy by comparison.” Miller brought up excellent points. “Why complete the errand once he had her in his car? Why bring her to the school and provide her with an opportunity to escape?”
“We need to get another look at the Upton’s property.” I thumbed through the report in my lap. “It’s the last known link between Martin and Maggie we’ve got left.”
Cole gave a tight nod and joined us in the SUV. The vehicle rocked under his shifting weight. I didn’t have to turn my head to know he had settled in behind me. The sudden urge to lean across the console toward Miller in order to feel balanced told me that much.
“How’s Santiago?” A cat had Thom’s tongue the last time we’d met, so I hadn’t gotten an opportunity to check on the other injured party. “We saw Thom earlier, so I’m guessing they’re both fine.”
“Santiago is resting. He’ll make a full recovery thanks to Thom’s quick thinking.” Cole’s heavy, warm hand landed on the back of my seat. “And your cool head.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Santiago wasn’t my favorite person, but I didn’t want him to die. “Any word on how Jane got the drop on them?”
“Santiago reported finding her in an unusual position on the bed when he relieved Portia. Jane was curled around a pillow that hid half her face, and the covers had been pulled up to her ears. He figured since she had been waking for short intervals, she had made herself comfortable and let it go.” Cole’s breath warmed my neck, and I shivered recalling his steak-knife teeth. “Thom took the next shift, and he performed his own inspection. That’s when he noticed puckered scarring above her cheek—on the opposite side of her face from her previous injuries. He bent down to get a better look, and she attacked.”
“I shot the super gator in the eye the night Cole saved me,” I said in case they hadn’t already known. “Why would War go back to the hospital at all? The bruising after the car accident, okay. By playing possum, she managed to drag out that inquiry and buy herself time.” Though we still had no idea why she felt returning had been worth the risk of discovery. “But a missing eye? That’s kind of hard to explain away. No one is going to believe ‘Oops. The patient rolled off the bed, landed on a spoon that fell off her lunch tray and scooped out her eye on impact.’”
The men snorted in stereo, but I was serious.
“War must have known by that point you had no affiliation with us,” Miller said in a thoughtful voice. “No idea of your true identity or ours.”
“She went to great lengths to play off your empathy.” Cole picked up the speculative thread. “This incident would have been a second strike on our watch. Maybe she hoped to turn you against us by convincing you we were abusive toward her. With us out of the way, she could have had you to herself.”
“She tried to kill me.” So much for sisterhood. “It doesn’t sound like she cared all that much about combining forces.”
“Unless she planned on using your ignorance against you. Conquest would make a powerful ally for anyone who could control her. All War had to do was win your loyalty as Jane, then she could have given you the answers you wanted, filled your head with talk of monsters and blamed her actions on us.” The steady growl rumbling from the backseat turned my chair into a vibrator. “War is clever. Eventually, I have no doubt she would have asked you for a favor—as her sister—and extracted a vow of allegiance from you.”
“That sounds bad.” And irreversible if Cole’s agitation was any gauge.
“Cole.” Miller spoke his name in a soothing tone.
Cole was not to be soothed. “A handful of words, a few drops of blood, and she would have owned you.” He snarled. “She has no use for us. She would have used us up, then killed us or left us behind to rot in the charred wasteland that is Earth’s future.”
“Cole.” This time Miller let the word ring with warning. “Don’t push her mind so hard, so fast. Humans are breakable.”
A grumble from the rear resembled She’s not human. I took the high road and pretended not to hear. World domination didn’t happen overnight. Empires weren’t built or leveled in a day. I had time to educate myself and form a plan to stop whatever chaos War was brewing. But Maggie’s was running out. She had to be my priority. Besides the fact my head was so full of new information, I sloshed when I walked. I had reached my saturation point. I had to digest what I’d been taught before I could absorb more.
“You’re saying the gloves are off now.” I picked up the strand of our earlier conversation. “I can’t expect her to show mercy. Not to me or to Maggie.”
“She’ll use Maggie as leverage. Prepare yourself for what concessions you’re willing to make.” Cole left no room for doubt. “She’s counting on your love of an old friend to outweigh any loyalty you might feel to us.”
Cole’s clipped delivery conveyed his belief I would sell them out to save her. No defense sprang to my lips. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do to save Maggie.
The rest of the short trip to the upscale neighborhood where the Uptons resided passed in a quiet so thick scissors might be required to cut myself out of the SUV. We parked at the curb one house down and sat there, surveying the cul-de-sac. The Uptons must have pressure washed their driveway with hydrogen peroxide to restore its pristine condition. The sand hill was gone, leaving nothing but a yellowed patch of sickly grass across the property line as evidence the tarp had been there. Their lawn, however, grew thick and lush.
This was why I could never survive suburban living. The temptation to irk my snooty and self-important neighbors would drive me to adopt a large dog from the pound for the sole purpose of allowing it accidentally off-leash to fertilize their yard with fist-sized poo bombs. A dog deserved better than that. I wasn’t yet convinced the Uptons did, considering their casual disregard for their neighbor’s property.
“Do we go with the direct approach?” I’d almost expected my voice to echo in the cavernous silence.
“Can you get us inside?” Cole shifted, leaning over the console for a better look, and the SUV rocked forward. “Or buy us time to search the yard?”
“I guess we’re about to find out.” I popped my seatbelt. “How close before you can hear or smell Maggie?”
“About the same distance as what we encountered at the Martin house, depending on where she’s being held.” Miller wet his lips and glanced away. “Blood helps. I can find her faster if she’s bleeding.”
I locked down my instinctive shiver before it rippled through me. “Let’s do this.”
We all exited the vehicle. Or I thought we had. Miller still sat behind the wheel taking slow and even breaths, lips moving in soundless words, as though psyching himself up for what came next. Cole crowded me, his shadow engulfing mine. I waited for him to find the words he wanted to fire at me.
“You’re kind to him.” He made it an accusation. “He cares about you, about your opinion of him.”
“Miller’s good people.” I couldn’t decide if he didn’t trust my intentions toward Miller or if he was jealous there was no friction between us. We worked well together. We got along. Both of us knew what page the other was on. I had none of that certainty when dealing with a certain finicky dragon. “He was in the lead for my favorite,” I teased, “until I saw Thom’s demon form. If you can even call it that. I’m starting to think Miller’s overreacting with his paranoia about me glimpsing his dark side. So far, all I’ve seen out of you guys are cuddle-worthy creatures straight out of every little girl’s fantasies.”
A sharp glower cut his mouth. “I am not cuddly.”
“Of course you’re not.” I patted his chest. “And the next time you shift, I won’t be tempted to scratch behind your wittle ears out of respect for your manliness.”
The steady rumble might have cowed another woman. Heck, I would have swallowed my tongue a week ago had it been aimed at me. But I was learning to decipher The Many Growls of Cole, and this one smacked of masculine displeasure at the perceived slight to his machoness rather than a genuine threat.
I would never admit it out loud or to his face, but I liked him growly. Maybe there was something to this inner demon business after all.
Miller joined us a few minutes later, his bottom lip chewed ragged. “I’ve got a handle on it.”
I took him at his word and set off up the driveway. Cole and Miller lingered near the garage, no doubt hoping to discover if the Uptons shared Martin’s fear of inclement weather. Heads bowed together, they conferred about a topic that scrunched their foreheads into matching furrows. Leaving them to it, I knocked on the front door and waited. I didn’t stand there long.
“Oh, hello again, Officer Boudreau.” Cheeks flushed, Mrs. Upton must have jogged from deeper in the house to greet me. “I want to thank you for handling our situation with such delicacy.”
Delicacy was not the word I would have chosen considering how Thom had mangled their sod. “No problem.”
“My husband managed to transplant a fresh sod square over the one your associate removed. We insisted on planting a small patch in the backyard for just such an occasion. Grass can be so temperamental.” She clicked her tongue. “It’s all for the best. There was so much blood, and what with the iron—”
“I’m glad to hear your sod has recovered from its ordeal,” I rushed out before my brain hit snooze on our conversation. “The transplantation process sounds fascinating. Would you mind showing me?”
“Not at all.” Her eyes brightened. “Wait there, and I’ll slip on my shoes.”
I shot the guys a covert thumbs-up while she slid on her flip-flops. Cole was rubbing his nose, and Miller, who seemed the more sensitive of the two, had launched into a sneezing fit.
“I thought I heard . . . ” Her bright façade crackled. “Oh. You didn’t tell me you brought friends.”
“You remember Mr. Heaton from my last visit.” I indicated Miller with a sweep of my arm. “This is Miller Henshaw.”
“Why are they here?” She frowned at them and their proximity to her garage door. “This is a police matter, surely.”
“Yes, ma’am, it is.” I guided her away from them. “Their security firm is working a case that overlaps mine.” What used to be one of mine anyway. “We were in a meeting nearby, and it occurred to me I ought to follow up since I was in the neighborhood. You haven’t seen the gator again, have you?”
“Goodness no.” Her eyes widened. “We would have reported it if we had.”
The next ten minutes passed in mind-numbing slowness while she explained more about sod than any sane person ought to know unless they were in the business of carpeting yards with the stuff. While I ran interference, the guys snooped around the side of the house. I don’t know how far they got before a violent sneezing fit alerted Mrs. Upton. She set off at a clip, and I rushed to keep up with her.
“Have you gotten a chance to use your new patio yet?” I eased in front of her, and she had to stop or bowl me over. We almost both went down. “I see you finished with the sand. It’s messy, right? Gets everywhere, and stray cats treat the stuff like it’s a litterbox.”
“What are they doing?” She rose on her toes and peered around me. Her mouth gaped at what she saw. “What are you doing?” Twisting away from me, she ran straight for them. “Stop that right now. Those pavers were just laid.”
Cole held one of the red bricks in hand while Miller knelt and sifted sand through his fingers.
“Guys?” I put the question to them. “Want to share with the rest of the class?”
“She was here.” Red rimmed Miller’s eyes, and water steadily trickled down his pale cheeks. His nose had been rubbed raw from his shirtsleeve, and his upper lip glistened. “She might still be here.”
“Mrs. Upton.” I caught her upper arm when she inched away from us. “I don’t suppose you have a storm shelter?”
“N-no.” She wriggled like a fish on a line in my grip. “I don’t.”
“Forgive me if I would like to verify that with my own eyes.”
I marched her back to the garage, and she pressed a button that caused the mechanism to purr to life. The segmented door rolled back and exposed a smooth slab stained with faded oil splatters from an old leak. Boxes lined the walls, and junk stood in the corners. Not what I would have expected from two perfectionists, but perhaps they cared only for outward appearances. Somehow that seemed fitting.
“Mrs. Upton, I’m going to be blunt. I’m working a missing person case, and I have reason to believe the victim, Maggie Stevens, was brought to this location at some point after her abduction. She was injured and bleeding. It was her blood that made the prints in your driveway, not the gator’s. Think long and hard about that before you say another word.”
“You don’t think that I—that we—?” Her hand flew to her mouth, and her knees wobbled. “Oh sweet God in heaven.”
I looped an arm around her waist before she collapsed. “Mrs. Upton?”
“He built me a wine cellar for our anniversary. That was weeks ago.” Tears sprang into her eyes. “It was almost finished when he—he told me we lived too close to the swamp. He said the land was marshy and water kept seeping in, so he had it filled.” Limp as she was, she slid through my fingers. “He installed the sod instead and set pavers over the top. He bought me a set of lawn furniture I wanted since my gift was ruined.” Her lip trembled. “The cushions are due to arrive next week.”
“Are you sure he had the cellar filled?” I squatted in front of her. “Did you see it done with your own eyes?”
“He oversaw the construction while I was at work.” Her voice quavered. “I came home hours after he told me about the standing water, and it was all done. The yard had been raked down to the dirt. The sod arrived the next day.”
Cole prowled up to us. “Where is your husband now?”
“He’s at work.” She pressed her back harder against the wall the closer he got. “He won’t be here until five-thirty.”
“How did you plan to access the cellar?” Miller sounded far away. He hadn’t entered the garage.
“We decided to have an addition made to the kitchen. Just a door that opened onto the stairwell.” She regained a smidge of color. “I planned a rose garden, a hedge, to cover the new construction so it didn’t clash with the lines of the house.”
Miller joined us at last, but he stood apart. “Mrs. Upton, would you mind if we removed a few pavers and dug down to see if anything is there?”
“My company will cover any damages and pay for any necessary repairs,” Cole offered.
“We’ve been married ten years.” She mopped her blotchy face. “You can’t hide your true self from someone for that long.”
None of us had much to say after that. So much of my life was a lie. So much of my true self remained hidden, even from me. How well did we ever really know another person? My gaze slid to Cole and stuck as though magnetized, and I had the oddest sensation he had been thinking the exact same thing.
“This will go a lot faster with your permission,” I told her gently, but I would secure the paperwork if she forced me to circumvent her. “Maggie is my best friend. Please, if you think there’s any reason your husband might be involved, help us save her.”
“Lipstick on his collar. That’s where it all started.” Her finger tapped the side of her neck. “I told myself it was a midlife crisis. I didn’t push. I didn’t force. I let him work it out of his system.” Her shoulders rounded. “The cellar, our anniversary . . . I thought he was apologizing for the late nights and the perfume on his clothes.”
“Mrs. Upton,” I prompted.
