From his booth at Carolyn’s, Beau had a clear view of Sabine’s building. She’d left the restaurant almost an hour ago but still hadn’t changed her shop sign to “Open,” which meant she either didn’t have any appointments for the rest of the day or she’d cancelled them because he had absolutely no skill at asking a woman for a date. And why should he? He’d shot more people in the line of duty than he’d asked on dates. Which, now that he thought about it, must say something about him, but he had absolutely no idea what.
He took one last bite of an absolutely heavenly banana pudding and rose from the booth. That attempted break-in at Sabine’s still weighed on him. The hospital break-in didn’t really concern him, as that was a choice spot for a drug user to try to get a fix if they couldn’t find any other way. But there was nothing about Sabine or her business to suggest it was worth breaking into her building, especially in broad daylight. Even if the burglar had thought no one was inside, it was a huge risk, even from the back door. Again, the desperation of junkies came to mind but he didn’t want to force that to fit. Not just yet. Nothing about Sabine had made him think she used illegal drugs, and she’d been vehement in her denial of keeping anything but a minimal amount of cash on hand.
Beau pulled some bills out of his wallet and set them on the table. He mulled over the possibilities, limited as they were, as he paid the bill. The timing of the attempted break-in coupled with his search for Sabine’s family troubled him, but for the life of him he couldn’t see where the two could have intersected. Sabine had never come up with anything remotely close to the angle he was working now, and all his activity so far had been restricted to FBI files and news articles. The family had no way of knowing that he was researching them. Not yet. So they had no way of knowing about Sabine.
Which meant her trouble was coming from something else. But what? And who would try a break-in in the middle of the morning, in broad daylight, and with occupants inside the building? It was damned odd, but if Sabine couldn’t even handle Beau admitting his attraction, she sure as hell wasn’t going to start unloading her secrets on him. And then there was always the chance that Sabine had no idea what had set this into motion. So many times in his work with the FBI, he’d seen cases of normal people thrust into the middle of something sordid without ever intending to step in shit. Certainly none of them realized it until it was too late.
Beau stuffed his change in his wallet and turned to the exit. He looked across the street just in time to see Sabine lock the front door on her shop, hurry to her car, and drive away. What now? He exited the restaurant and paused outside on the sidewalk, making a quick assessment of the town. The entire downtown wasn’t any bigger than a city block, but with the wooded areas and the bayou surrounding every side of the tiny town, there were too many possibilities for an unobserved approach to make Beau happy with Sabine’s safety.
The hotel was the tallest building on the street. If he could manage a front room, he’d have a clear view of Sabine’s building—the front of it anyway. He hoped she’d taken the necessary precautions with the back door after the last attempt. It was something he’d ask her about as soon as he had an opportunity. If she’d let him see the door and secure it, even better. Mind made up, he walked down the street to the hotel and stepped inside. A large woman with silver hair sticking up in all directions looked up from the counter as he entered.
“Hi,” she said. “Are you here for the sales convention?”
For a fleeting moment, Beau considered lying, but quickly changed his mind. The town was simply too small and once his cover was blown he’d have an even harder time convincing Sabine to trust him than before. “No. I’m here doing a little work and need a room.”
“Welcome. My name’s Mildred and this is my hotel. ’Bout how many nights you need to stay?”
Beau considered this for a minute. “I’m not really sure. Are you full, or can I negotiate something for a day at a time?”
Mildred shrugged. “Fine by me. But the hotel’s completely booked a week from now. Think you’ll be done with your work by then?”
Beau nodded. “I hope to be.” He pulled his license and a credit card from his wallet and handed them to Mildred. It was only Tuesday and with any luck, he would either figure out what was going on or reassure himself that it was an isolated incident and be satisfied Sabine was safe.
Mildred ran his credit card and pushed the receipt across the counter along with a pen. “What kind of work do you do, Mr. Villeneuve?” she asked as she glanced down at his license.
“Research, mostly.”
“Sounds fascinating. Medical?”
“No.” Beau pushed the completed registration card back across the counter. “Family history stuff mostly. Is there a room available in the front of the hotel?”
Mildred pulled a key from the pegboard behind her and handed it to Beau. “Third floor.” She studied him for a moment. “Anyone I might know?”
“It really wouldn’t be appropriate for me to say without permission.”
Mildred gave him a shrewd look. “Not for nothing, Mr. Villeneuve, but I’ve most often found that opening up family business long since dead is like stepping on a land mine.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Beau took the key and started toward the stairwell.
Sabine shoved the copies she’d made from the library microfiche into her shoulder bag and waved at old Mrs. Hebert, the librarian, as she exited the building. Three possibilities to fill two possible slots—Amelia Watson, Sandra Franks, and Ruth Moore, all living in nearby bayou towns. No cause of death was listed, or surviving family. But at least she had a starting point.
She’d gone through the microfiche index for ten years preceding their deaths but had found no mention of any of the women. She’d ask Mildred and Helena if they knew any of the names, even though both would have been teenagers at the time of the women’s deaths. Beyond that, Sabine felt she’d spent enough time chasing a “bad feeling.” If Mildred or Helena had never heard of the women, then Sabine had already decided she would let it go without regret. Well, with almost no regret. Who was she kidding? She’d probably feel like crap but what other choice did she have? Maybe when things were more settled in her own life she’d pick it up again.
She glanced at her watch and realized it was getting toward suppertime and she still hadn’t eaten lunch. No wonder she was starving. She briefly considered the limited options in her apartment. She really had to get to the grocery store. And since Maryse had known good and well that Sabine had been joking about the bungee jumping and Luc had left that afternoon for his undercover assignment, Sabine knew her friend would remain at the lab in New Orleans until all hours of the night. Which put her out of the running as a dinner date.
Sabine looked over at the hotel. There was always Mildred. Sabine hated the thought of sitting across a table from Mildred knowing that she was hiding her cancer from her, but if she didn’t see her soon, Mildred would wonder and besides, she could go ahead and ask her about the three women and get that out of the way. The hotel owner had raised Maryse after her mother died, and ran herd over Maryse and Sabine from childhood to their early twenties, doing her best to keep them from doing something foolish. She was moderately successful except for their teenage years and Maryse’s disastrous marriage to Hank.
Mind made up, Sabine started across the street for the hotel. She found Mildred behind the counter, wrapping up her daily accounting. The hotel owner looked up and smiled as Sabine entered the lobby.
“I haven’t seen you in days.” She gave Sabine a critical look. “How are you?”
Sabine took one look at Mildred and sighed. “Maryse told you.”
Mildred walked around the counter and gave Sabine a hug. “Oh, honey,” she said as she pulled back. “You know Maryse never could tell me a lie—not that I didn’t know about, anyway. And not telling me something like this is the same as lying in my book. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me yourself.”
“It wasn’t that I was trying to keep it from you, exactly. It’s just that…well…I didn’t want you worrying about me. We haven’t even really gotten past everything that happened to Maryse, and I didn’t want to throw something else on you this soon. And I know how you feel about my looking for my family. I knew you wouldn’t be happy with me starting it up all over again, much less in full force.”
Mildred sighed. “I guess I figure little good ever comes from digging up the past. I don’t want you hurt, Sabine, and it just might be that finding them hurts more than never knowing them. I’ve always believed family is about sharing your life, not your blood, but I understand why this is different. I just wish there was another way.”
“I love you, Mildred, you know that? But let’s not put the cart ahead of the horse. We don’t know what’s in store for me, so there’s no use worrying about a bunch of things that may or may not happen. Believe me, I spend enough time worrying for everyone.”
Mildred gave her a sympathetic look. “I understand you trying to protect me, Sabine, but you know good and well that I’m no shrinking violet. If you or Maryse need me, I want to know about it and be right in the middle of everything, raising Cain and getting things done. That’s what friends do.”
Sabine brushed an unshed tear away from her eye. “No, that’s what mothers do. Maryse and I are so lucky to have you.”
Mildred smiled. “Yes, you are. So I assume that means you’re taking me to dinner. I could sure use a mess of catfish and a glass of wine.”
Sabine laughed. “As a matter of fact, I’d love to.”
Mildred reached behind the counter and grabbed her purse. “Ready?”
Sabine nodded. “Can you leave? There’s no one to cover the desk.”
Mildred waved a hand in dismissal. “Julia should be here any minute. That girl is always five minutes late. Besides, we’ll just be across the street so it should be fine.”
They stepped outside, and Mildred pulled the lobby door closed behind her. “Now,” Mildred said and gave her a shrewd look, “are you going to tell me what you really wanted to talk about?”
Beau eased down the remainder of the stairwell as the door closed behind the hotel owner and Sabine. He stared through the lobby window after them. He’d known from the beginning that Sabine was keeping something from him…most clients did. The trick was deciding whether it was something important to the investigation or merely something private and perhaps embarrassing to the client. Beau hadn’t really gotten the impression that Sabine was holding back anything concerning her family, so that must mean it was personal.
And apparently something so dire she’d also kept it from the woman she considered a surrogate mother.
Which was very interesting when considered with all the other facts that Beau had. Like the fact that Raissa had just recently had the “vision” of Sabine’s parents, but had been friends with her and known of her situation for years, or that a “friend” had stolen a police file of her parent’s car wreck just this week but no one had ever done this before. And even though he knew she’d hired an investigator in the past, she’d claimed it had been years before and he had no reason to think she was lying.
So why the big push now?
Was Sabine’s secret related to her search for her family? And if so, how? And was the break-in at her shop tied in to all of it, some of it, or none of it?
He crossed the lobby and looked across the street. Sabine and Mildred were entering the catfish restaurant. They were both smiling as if nothing was wrong, but from their earlier conversation, Beau doubted that was the case. More likely they were making small talk now and would have the bigger discussion once they were left to themselves. He deliberated for a moment walking across the street and getting a bite himself, but there was no way to do that without alerting Sabine that he was staying in town. The last thing he needed was Sabine to be suspicious of him or he’d never be able to help her.
His FBI buddy had gotten him all the information on the guy he’d remembered, and based on Beau’s subsequent research, a picture of Sabine’s family had started to take shape. He had nearly completed his investigation, more and more convinced that he’d not only identified her father but also located a whole host of living relatives. The kind that came with baggage. He’d dragged his feet on putting the final touches on the file, hoping to convince her to give up the search, but even if the earlier restaurant performance hadn’t convinced him, he now knew for sure that Sabine had an ulterior motive for starting her search all over again and with such enthusiasm.
Whatever was up with Sabine LeVeche was serious business. He felt it in his bones. And even though he knew he shouldn’t care, he wasn’t even going to bother trying to pretend he didn’t.