Late that night, Sabine grabbed a bottled water and two more aspirin from the kitchen, then crawled into bed with the book she’d been trying to finish for two weeks. It had been a long and exhausting day, what with the break-in, the absolutely useless time spent with the local police, and then the trip to the hospital that Maryse had insisted on to check out her head. She’d tried to nap that afternoon with limited success and had instead spent a good portion of the time scanning through some of her aunt’s journals. Unfortunately, she hadn’t found anything of relevance, but the logical, systematic way her aunt had documented such a volatile time in history made Sabine think that had her aunt been born in a different era, she would have made a great scientist, or maybe even a detective.
She propped herself up with a stack of fluffy pillows and snuggled into the pale pink sheets and comforter, figuring she had twenty minutes tops before sleep caught up with her. She opened the book and started at the marked spot. The hero had just saved the heroine from a killer and his arms were still wrapped around her. A fleeting image of Beau Villeneuve clutching Sabine and moving in for a kiss flashed through her mind. Where the hell had that come from? She lifted her water and took a sip. Like she needed a roadmap to answer that question. Beau Villeneuve was quite frankly the best-looking man she’d come into contact with in…well…forever.
And she couldn’t have met him at a worse time.
Sabine was pretty sure he didn’t buy into the psychic connection, but she might have still made a run at him had her situation been less complicated. She set her book on the nightstand and sighed. Who are you kidding? You’ve never made a slow stroll at a man, much less a run. Twenty-eight years in Mudbug, Louisiana, and she’d spent most of her time trying to talk to dead people instead of the living. And then when she finally got the opportunity to talk to the dead, she was saddled with Helena Henry. Not exactly what she’d had in mind.
Beau Villeneuve was just another piece to the puzzle that wasn’t going to ever form a clear picture. Sitting across from him in the café, she’d felt a tug that she’d never felt before…a desire to know this man, inside and out. But with her life hanging in the balance, the last thing Sabine was going to do was complicate an already impossible situation by developing feelings for a man she might not be around to see grow old. It wasn’t fair…not to her and especially not to him. She turned off the lamp and lay down, hoping she dreamed about anything besides death, ghosts, family, and the good-looking man who would never know she was interested.
It felt like she’d barely fallen asleep when Sabine bolted upright in her bed, her pulse racing. There was noise downstairs in her shop. She glanced at the alarm clock and saw it was just after midnight. Much, much too late for anyone to need anything legitimate. And with the attempted break-in that morning, she wasn’t about to take any chances. She eased out of bed and pulled open her nightstand drawer. Within easy reach and already loaded rested the nine millimeter she’d purchased years before.
Mudbug might be a small town, but Sabine was a single woman living alone. Residents of Mudbug may call her crazy, but no one was going to call her stupid. She lifted the pistol from the drawer and crept out of the bedroom. The stairwell door creaked just a bit as she eased it open, and she froze. The only sound she could hear was the ticking of the old clock in her living room.
Then she heard rustling downstairs and knew whoever it was hadn’t fled. Which wasn’t good. When faced with the possibility of a homeowner in a small town in Louisiana, most thieves would flee—unless they were on drugs. But then, most thieves didn’t try to break into buildings in broad daylight, either, even if it was the back door.
Unless theft wasn’t their primary objective.
Clutching the pistol, she crept down the stairs, hoping they didn’t creak under her weight. She reached the bottom without incident and peered around the corner into the shop. A silhouette stood silently by the cash register. She squinted in the dark, trying to make out the figure, and as her vision shifted just a bit, she realized the person wasn’t trying to break into the register, as she’d originally thought, but was instead writing something on the pad of paper she usually kept under the counter.
Now or never. Please God, don’t let him have a gun, too.
She took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the pistol. Her heart pounded in her chest, making the silence seem ever more sinister, more empty. With a silent prayer, she flipped on the shop lights and stepped around the corner, her gun aimed directly at the figure. It took a moment for her to focus and realize that the man standing at her counter was someone she knew.
“Jesus, Hank! You scared the shit out of me. What in the world are you doing in my shop in the middle of the night? For that matter, what are you doing in Mudbug at all?”
Hank Henry, disappearing husband extraordinaire, remained frozen in surprise and fright, his hands in the air. Finally, he found his voice. “You’re not going to shoot me, are you?”
“No…well, probably not.” Sabine looked closely at him, trying to figure out what he was up to, but all she saw was the good-looking guy Maryse had been unfortunate enough to fall for and marry.
He stared a moment more, then apparently deciding she probably wouldn’t shoot him, he lowered his hands and sucked in a breath. “Jesus yourself, Sabine. I already got shot once in the last month. I’d really like to avoid it again if I could.”
Sabine tried to hold in a smile but only partially managed to. Hank, in an unusual fit of heroism, had taken a bullet that wasn’t meant for him. It had definitely improved his rating with Maryse and Sabine, but Hank was far from out of the woods. There was still that two-year disappearance, and Sabine wasn’t yet ready to forgive Hank completely for all the trouble he’d brought to her friend…bullet or no.
“Well, if you stop putting yourself in situations to get shot, you might have a better chance at keeping your innards intact,” Sabine said. “You darn near bought it.”
Hank swallowed. “Yeah, I can see that. Damn, Sabine, what are you doing with a nine? That’s a helluva gun for a chick.”
“I’m a helluva chick, Hank. You still haven’t answered my question—what are you doing in my shop and how did you get in?”
“I still have a key from back when I was with Maryse.” He pulled it from his pocket and slid it across the table to Sabine, a sheepish look on his face. “I need to talk to you, but couldn’t risk being caught by the Mudbug cops. I haven’t exactly got all my past transgressions worked out. Although, the way things look now, I would probably have been safer with ole Leroy.”
Sabine had to laugh. Deputy Leroy Theriot was more likely to shoot himself in the foot than actually apprehend a criminal. “You ever thought of using a phone?”
“Yeah, but this was sorta important and I felt kinda funny doing it over the phone. Please, Sabine, I need to use your restroom first, but then I really need to talk to you.”
Sabine sighed. “Restroom’s on the far right wall. The break room is through the door behind the counter. Meet me in there when you’re done. I’ll make some tea.”
Hank relaxed a little and headed off. Sabine stepped into the break room and pulled a box of decaffeinated tea from the cabinet. It was far too early for coffee and if she could hear whatever Hank had to say and get rid of him soon, there was still a chance of sleeping again. She nuked two cups of water in the microwave and dipped the tea bags in them until the water turned a deep, rich brown. Sabine took in the sweet smell of cinnamon and spice and smiled.
She had just set the cups and sugar on a tiny table when Hank entered the room. She motioned to the other chair and he took a seat, reaching for the cup of tea and the sugar spoon almost immediately.
“Thanks for the tea, Sabine. And I’m really sorry I scared you. That’s not what I was trying to do. I thought I’d make it here before you went to bed, but I got held up. So then I thought I’d just leave you a note and hide out somewhere around town until you woke up and could meet me.”
“And what is so important that you risked the Mudbug police department and a nine millimeter bullet?”
Hank looked down at his cup. “I heard about the cancer.”
Sabine froze. “How? No one is supposed to know.”
“I was in that attorney’s office, Wheeler, when Maryse called trying to hunt me down.”
Sabine stared at Hank. “Maryse told you about my cancer?”
Hank looked stricken. “Oh, crap, you didn’t know. She probably didn’t want to get your hopes up in case she couldn’t find me or something. Shit. I can’t seem to do anything without causing trouble.” He sighed. “Maryse didn’t tell me. She told Wheeler to explain why she needed to find me. I guess he thought I wouldn’t do the right thing if I didn’t have all the facts.”
Sabine rolled this over in her mind, trying to bunch all the facts together into something that made sense, and all at an hour she should have been curled up in her bed not thinking at all. “So Wheeler told you everything, and then you came here. Why, exactly?”
Hank grinned. “Well, cousin, I thought if we were a match, I would give you some bone marrow.”
Sabine sat back in her chair, stunned. She stared at Hank Henry, the most selfish, most irresponsible person in the world, and tried to come up with any reason whatsoever for this charade. Hank just stared back, the grin still in place, his expression completely sincere. Well, that tore it all.
She felt the tears well up in her eyes and reached for a napkin. “I can’t believe you’d do that for me, Hank.”
Hank looked a bit embarrassed. “Oh, hell, it’s nothing but a test for now. We don’t even know if I’m a match or if you’ll ever need me. You’re a really good person, Sabine. You’ve always looked after Maryse, and I know neither of you believe me, but I do care about her.”
Sabine sniffed. “Just not enough to be her husband.”
Hank sighed. “I’m not in any shape to be anyone’s husband. I’ve got too many issues, Sabine. All I could do is bring her down. And the reality is, I care about Maryse a lot, but I don’t love her like that DEQ agent does.”
“How do you know about Luc?”
“I’ve seen them together out on the bayou, but they didn’t see me.” Hank smiled. “They look good together, Sabine. Right. Like two pieces that fit perfectly together. And after everything I put her through, I’m really glad she’s happy.”
Sabine sniffed again. “Me, too.”
“So…I wanted to let you know that I saw a doctor in New Orleans this morning to do the tests. Wheeler called in a favor, so it’s all sorta anonymous…you know, given my situation. The doctor will send Wheeler the results and he will contact you. If that’s all right, that is.”
Sabine smiled. “That’s fine, Hank.”
Hank rose from his chair. “Then I guess I best be clearing out of here before anyone sees me.”
Sabine rose and followed him to the shop entrance. Hank opened the door just a crack, but before he could slip through, Sabine grabbed his arm. “Thank you, Hank.”
Hank stared at her for a moment, then leaned over to kiss her forehead. “You’re going to be fine, cousin. I can feel it.” He smiled and slipped out the door and into the night.
“Thirty damn years,” Helena’s voice boomed, and Sabine spun around. “Thirty years for him to grow a conscience, and technically, I’m not even around to see it.”
Sabine sighed. “Where are you, Helena?”
“At the counter.”
Sabine saw her stapler hovering a foot above the counter. Great. “Exactly how much did you hear?”
“Well, since I saw Hank sneaking into your shop and followed him in, everything. Nice pistol, by the way.”
Sabine groaned and leaned against the shop wall. “I could have shot him, Helena! Why didn’t you yell or something?”
“If you’d have gotten to the actual shooting part, I would have said something. Maybe. Probably.”
“He’s your son, Helena, and he did take a bullet that wasn’t intended for him. Can’t you cut him a little slack?”
“I’m not ready to move on yet. Seem to be having that problem everywhere.” Helena began to laugh.
“If you’re done enjoying the show, I’m going back to bed.”
“So,” Helena said, “I guess now I know why you dragged me to New Orleans and had that nutbag draw your parents. You’re looking for a match, right?”
Damn it. The very conversation she’d been hoping to avoid. Sabine sighed. “Yes.”
“Well, why the hell didn’t you say so? I’m sure I can help.”
Sabine rubbed her temples with her fingers, trying to stop the rush of blood into her head. “That’s sorta what I was afraid of.”