“There was someone in the hall when we were outside,” Archie said slowly.

  “Someone who didn’t want to be seen,” Laura agreed, recalling the shadowy presence. “The person Cyria didn’t want to come in while we had tea and drugs.”

  Archie’s mouth twitched in a half smile, half grimace. “Yeah.” He sighed. “I feel…”

  “What?”

  “A bit Obi-wan,” he admitted, the smile winning against the grimace this time. “Like I sensed something from a long time ago.”

  “Something?” she prompted.

  “Someone.”

  A long time ago was probably… “Seventeen years ago.”

  He shifted in the seat. “Maybe. Probably, but…why?”

  “Maybe something seventeen years ago subconsciously bothered you, and it has surfaced now because of the beads.” She hesitated. “Were you uneasy? Back then? You said you told him not to get involved with Auguste?”

  “Yeah, but Auguste didn’t hide from me. He wasn’t thrilled to see me, but he wasn’t worried either. Why would he—no.” He shook his head sharply this time. “This is someone who does not want to be seen. Is willing to kill to not be seen.” He looked at her now, his gaze haunted. “It’s someone who knows me well enough to know I won’t stop until I find out what happened.”

  She frowned. “Wouldn’t that have to be someone pretty close to you?”

  It was his turn to frown. “Rob didn’t bring his friends around a lot after he started the business. He was busy.”

  There was a hint of defensiveness in the excuse. Laura opened her mouth and then closed it. If someone criticized one of her siblings—deserved or not—they closed ranks. It was clear that Archie had looked up to his big brother, possibly idolized him after he died.

  “His family was young, too. A lot going on. Nothing that would have mattered if we’d known…”

  Archie rubbed his face in frustration and Laura once more bit back a comment.

  “But if it was someone who knew Rob. If he talked about us⁠—”

  One did, she knew. Idle chat. Maybe bragging about good news. Funny stories shared. Everyone did it. But this time—the lowering sun wasn’t the only thing making tiny chills dance across her skin.

  “A…friend?” Not a very good friend.

  He looked at her without answering. He didn’t have to. She could see it in his eyes.

  “So the beads are probably…the same ones in the photo?” she said that instead of the other obvious: that Rob must have been murdered, had to have been killed for the beads to survive. Or they’d been switched before he walked into that tower. Betrayed or betrayer? It was not a question she could ask Archie. Had someone murdered Rob or gotten lucky? And if someone had, well, Hebert, their only link to that person, was dead, too. Cyria seemed to be trying to find out more, as well. Seemed to be, she reminded herself. She could have been trying to find out what they knew. But then she’d stopped. Had hardly asked anything. Drugged her and let them leave. Okay, there was the bomb. Had she ordered the bomb planted or had someone else done it while they were inside? The gate had been open, the car sitting out in plain view with the keys in the ignition. And if it had been someone else—why had she let them leave without asking much of anything? Her thoughts circled close, but she moved away, picking another question to obsess over.

  Something had changed from when they’d been hijacked. Something? Or someone? What?

  “Cyria didn’t seem to know who you were…” she said slowly, knowing that could have been a ruse. But still, the drug had to have already been in Laura’s cup. They knock her out and then what? Listen to her snore—if she believed her brothers which she totally didn’t.

  Unless—Laura slanted Archie a look, this time letting the question happen inside her head because if she kept avoiding it…

  She mentally pressed on against the pain in her heart, not to mention a brain that wanted to vehemently reject it. What if they’d all talked while she was out? All. Including Archie. What if they planned. Conspired even. Archie saving her life could be part of it.

  He’d managed to isolate her from her family. She was without money and phone, not to mention transportation. She was sitting in a public park that was fine at the moment, but as soon as the sun set…

  All of her instincts said that Archie wasn’t—that he wouldn’t—but she wouldn’t be the first woman fooled by a man able to hide who and what he really was.

  Trust. It was only this moment, with her life on the line, that she realized how slippery trust was in concept. Trust could be given on consignment, as it were, with the understanding that over time it must be earned, or it would be withdrawn. Over time. She didn’t have time. Indeed, the clock in her head seemed to tick louder and louder. While this was not her area of expertise, it was not entirely different from a medical emergency. As if she were assessing life signs, she felt the approach of the critical mass building, the sense that the wave was going to break whether she was ready or not. And a bunch of other metaphors she couldn’t quite pull up. But lots of them. The moment was a metaphor-rich zone.

  She stole another glance at Archie. The line of his mouth was grim, his brooding gaze fixed on a couple passing on the path in front of them. And then, as if time itself rippled, his head turned, his gaze meeting hers. Grim turned rueful, possibly a bit frustrated. He rubbed his hands across his head, ruffling his hair.

  Did reason return or get sideswiped by the cute guy? Reason said Archie had no reason to conspire against her. She was a pawn, the temporary owner of some beads. She knew less than Sergeant Schultz from Hogan’s Heroes. Which was less than nothing. Possibly in the black hole of negative. If Cyria and her friends had wanted to talk with Archie, they could have done it without her—sleeping or awake.

  “We need to get out of sight before it gets dark. They can’t watch everyone we know…” His voice trailed off.

  Laura looked around her. They were about a fifteen-minute walk from Zach’s house, possibly longer based on her current state of tired. Zach wasn’t likely to be there—her heart constricted sharply at what she was putting him through. How long would it take for them to realize the car had been empty? Probably not as long as they’d been out wandering. Knowing she wasn’t in that car wouldn’t help completely, because hello, missing.

  And Frank, she did not want to think about Frank or Frank’s car. So, the house. It was the most obvious place to go, which meant it might be the safest place to go right now. Except for the beads. Had Zach taken them back to the house? She rubbed her aching head, wishing she could stop her brain from doing its gerbil on a wheel thing.

  “I wish,” His lips twisted. “I wish it had stayed buried.”

  She didn’t have to ask what he meant.

  “That we’d met without—” He stopped again, while a tiny curl of happy poked its head out of the mire inside her head. Did that mean he would have gone on the blind date anyway?

  His hand lifted to push her hair back behind her ear. The arm along the back of the bench lightly stroked her shoulder. She felt it when his gaze found her mouth. Felt her lips soften and part slightly. The fingers brushing her cheek trembled a bit.

  “Laura…” The word was more a sigh of regret, so she was not surprised when he said, “I wish—I’m not the marrying kind.”

  She gave a choked half laugh. “I think what you aren’t is the stay married kind.”

  This startled a laugh out of him. Then his chest moved in a deep sigh. “I wonder…

  His hands still lightly touched her, but she felt him move back. And she sensed the ghost of his dead brother reforming between them.

  She couldn’t explain why this tilted the trust deck in his direction, just knew that it had.

  Her lips might have trembled, but she firmed them up and threw some stiffening into her back.

  “Zach’s house is not that far away. We can walk there—” She held up a hand as he started to protest. “Do you really think I don’t know a back way in?”

  Twelve

  Laura could have been leading Archie anywhere, but since she seemed to know where she was going, he kept pace with her while keeping an eye on their surroundings—and the rapidly setting sun. He did not want them to be out on the street in the dark. Laura seemed to share his desire because she kept the pace brisk. Just when he started to question his own fitness regime, she slowed, only now taking a good look around before leading him down a track that appeared to cut through a block of houses.

  When he was totally turned around, she stopped again.

  “Can you jump it, or do we risk the gate?”

  Since she already had her hand on the metal fence and her knees partly bent, his pride told her, “Jump.”

  She went over lightly, landing like a gymnast on the other side. He was just glad he made it to the other side and didn’t fall on his face.

  “Stick close to me,” she whispered.

  It wasn’t a painful request, and it was a good plan since there were patches of shade that could have tripping risks.

  “Aren’t you a bit old to be sneaking in?” an old, amused but low voice asked from a window that he realized was open.

  “It’s complicated, Miss Josephine,” Laura whispered back.

  “It always is.” There was a pause. “Better take this.”

  Something long and thin extended out the window, the end held by a wrinkled claw.

  Laura took it, hefting it in her hand. “Nice bat. Didn’t we⁠—”

  “I wouldn’t go there, dear,” the sweet, old voice advised. “Probably need this, too.”

  This time it was a rolling pin. Laura passed him the bat and took this. She appeared to hesitate, though he couldn’t be sure. As if the old lady knew what they needed to know, she spoke.

  “Someone’s already rooting around in there. Again.”

  This time Laura looked back at him, her eyes wide in the near dark.

  “Really.” Laura sounded more thoughtful than worried. “Have you—of course you have. How long do we have before the cops arrive?”

  “Just got off the phone,” the old lady said. “Time for this I suppose.”

  The claw came out again. Archie couldn’t see what she gave Laura this time.

  “Did I ever tell you—” Laura began.

  “That I’m the best ever,” the old lady finished. “Lost count, dear. Rather you found me a man.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Laura promised.

  “Suppose that one’s taken?”

  Archie felt his cheeks heat and tried to remember the last time that had happened.

  “Divorced twice,” Laura pointed out.

  “I can work with that.” The old lady’s chuckle was soft and a bit evil.

  Archie was not sorry when Laura moved forward again, though he couldn’t resist a look in the window. All he could see was two circles with violet irises. He blew her a kiss and once past her window, paused when Laura did.

  “Here.”

  The object was warm and round and— “A cookie?”

  “Try it,” Laura suggested.

  Archie did. “If we survive, I might just go back and ask her to be the third Mrs. Gunn.”

  “You’d be her fifth, or that might be the sixth. The woman can cook.” The shadow had eased enough for him to see the soft curve of her mouth before she popped the last of the cookie into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed then said, “I feel better.”

  Strangely enough, so did he.

  Laura slowed their progress even more as she tried to pierce the darker spots. She wasn’t as familiar with Zach’s strip of backyard as she used to be. A stand of trees mostly blocked the back of the house, but through the one visible window, she saw flashes of light moving around, some bouncing off the trees. Someone was in there and that someone was using a flashlight, she guessed. Since the porch light had come on, it wasn’t because of a power outage.

  “How long do you think we have?” Archie whispered, the words tickling against her ear because he’d leaned in so close.

  “Five, maybe ten minutes.” It all depended on where the Bakers were clustered at the moment. If she had to make a wild guess, she’d put them all at the St. Charles house of Nell’s friend, Sarah. It was the only place big enough to hold them all plus any extras. And Sarah ran a catering business, so the odds of there being food being available was higher there. The Bakers knew better than to let stress and worry stop them from eating. She hoped they were there because Sarah was probably the only one who could talk Frank down off the roof about his car when he found out it had blown up.

  She took Archie’s hand and led him toward the right, away from the driveway and the back door. The house had three bedrooms: the girls’ room, the boys’ room, and Zach’s room. The kids’ rooms each had an, um, damaged screen and a window latch that could be jiggered from the outside if one knew the trick of it—which she did. Since any egress and entry woke up any siblings currently occupying either room, they weren’t as useful as they could have been until the sibling levels thinned. The boys’ room was easier to get into because the big A/C unit was right outside their window. The fact that it didn’t work half the time was irrelevant when effecting entry. It was the one most used because the boys had left home first. If any of the girls had hoped Zach would turn it into a single, those hopes had been dashed. He’d just divided them in half, perhaps hoping that the girls would be a check on each other.

  As she eased up to what was still known as the boys’ room, she realized whoever had gotten in had already used this window. The screen was on the ground, the window hanging wide. They could wait here, hoping the perp or perps came back this way, but it would be faster for them to run out the back door if they got interrupted—or if they found what they were looking for.

  She shifted around the side of the house, closing on the girls’ room. No signs of entry here. Her only fear was that the long lack of use would make it noisy to try.

  Archie touched her shoulder, then handed her a pocket knife, handle in her direction, and one of the blades already extended. She gave him the rolling pin and went to work, aware of the clock ticking down to the arrival of the police. She got the screen free without a squeak. Her sisters always said she had the best hands. She applied the knife in the right spot and added some careful pressure. There was a small click when the latch gave. She froze, but there was no sign of awareness from inside the house as the window swung slowly wide.

  With it open, they could now hear muffled sounds of movement. She leaned close to Archie’s ear. “Bedroom door should still be closed.” Not even flashes were cutting the dark, so this seemed like a good intel. “It squeaks at five o’clock.” She added a quick layout of the room and what lay beyond.

  He nodded, handed her the rolling pin and took the knife back. She didn’t see what he did with it but accepted the bat from him, too. Despite his somewhat clumsy leap over the fence, the window didn’t seem to pose any difficulty for him. He hoisted himself soundlessly up and in. She handed him both of Miss Josephine’s weapons, then accepted his help getting inside. She might be surprised he didn’t want her to stay outside.

  The bedroom used to be more crowded since they’d needed three bunk beds back in the day. Now it had her bedroom furniture dotted around it. Once inside, she led Archie to the door and eased it open—stopping just before the five o’clock squeak.

  “Wait here,” he ordered.

  The words were so soft, she wasn’t sure she heard them. She considered them and mostly agreed with him. Even with a rolling pin, she didn’t think she’d be much use. Despite this, she ghosted out the door. It was only a couple of steps across the hall to the boys’ room. This door was open. She didn’t touch it. Knew how to avoid any boards that creaked as she positioned herself behind the door. The least she could do was cut off this retreat if someone did come back this way. Did she feel guilty that she didn’t expect this to happen? A little. Mostly she felt relieved. She wasn’t sure she could whack someone on the head with a rolling pin.

  Archie was glad he’d been in the house when the lights were on. Laura’s quick summary might not have been enough otherwise. He was also helped some by the intruder’s flashlight as whoever held it moved around. Based on what could be seen from the light that came in from the street, he’d already been through the living room. Now he was in the kitchen.

  That was good. And bad.

  Archie was familiar with the kitchen, but it had that back door close by for a quick exit. On the possible upside, that was also the direction the police would come. As near as he could tell, no one used the front door of this house. It was possible it had forgotten how to open.

  He eased down the hall, carefully checking each board before putting his weight on it. Outside, the lights of a passing car made the dimly seen figure tense. It shifted giving Archie a glimpse of light on metal.

  A gun. Of course, the guy had a gun. He didn’t feel a chauvinist for expecting a guy, and he was pretty sure he knew who it was.

  “It’s got to be here.”

  Archie tensed. Yup. It was Bordelon but why⁠—

  Someone out of sight grunted. Crap. There were two of them. Archie had that frisson down the back feeling without knowing why, and not just because the odds got slightly worse for him. But then, ever since he got to New Orleans, he’d been feeling off for some reason, more so since the hijacking. That old, far off feeling of recognition. His lips twisted. He needed an Obi-wan. He shoved the feeling to one side.

  He hoped Laura had done what he asked her and stayed put.

  A glass fell to the floor. Bordelon cursed as his feet crunched over it. Archie used the noise to move closer.

 

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