Chapter Eight
About halfway to the tree line where Maryse was hidden, Helena tripped over a rotted tree trunk and went sprawling into a clump of dead brush. The brush broke under her weight and went flying into the air in a hundred different pieces.
Crap. Helena had gone solid.
Maryse prayed that Ross hadn’t noticed the exploding brush, but her prayer was a second too late. Ross’s head jerked in her direction, and he yelled to the other agent as he started running in her direction, gun drawn.
Do something!
But she couldn’t move. If she ran, Ross would fire at her. If she stayed still, maybe he’d stop at the brush and wouldn’t see her at all. She dropped down as low as she could get, taking refuge as much as she could behind a cypress tree, and peered around it.
Ross stopped where Helena fell and leaned over to inspect the ground, then straightened and scanned the surrounding area. Helena popped up out of the nearby marsh grass and took off running again. Maryse could see the grass collapsing with her every footstep and knew she was still solid. Unfortunately, Ross saw the footprints as well and headed right after her.
Are you watching, God? Negative ten points, at least!
Helena was about twenty feet away from Maryse’s hiding place when she screamed again, and stopped so abruptly that she almost toppled over.
“Snake!” she screamed and spun around, tackling Agent Ross like an NFL linebacker.
Ross discharged his weapon as he fell, causing the other agents to run toward him. Maryse popped up from the ground, ready to sprint for the far reaches of the swamp while everyone was distracted. But as soon as she whirled around, she heard a footstep behind her.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” a man’s voice sounded behind her.
She turned around and found herself looking directly into the barrel of a nine millimeter.
“This way,” he said, and waved the gun back toward the pond.
Stupid!
She’d completely forgotten about the other agent. He must have circled around while Ross came straight at her. As she stepped out from behind the tree, she saw Ross showing the smashed weeds to the other agents and waving his hand toward the pond. She scanned the area, but Helena was nowhere in sight. With the panic she was in, she might have run all the way to Canada.
If only Maryse was that lucky.
As they approached the group of agents, a boat engine roared to life and took off down the bayou like a gunshot. Everyone spun around, including the FBI diver, who was halfway up the bank. Maryse held in a groan. There was no mistaking the very rotund driver, clad in a diver’s suit.
Agent Ross spun around and fixed his gaze on her. “Who are you working with?”
“I…I’m not working with anyone.”
“You expect me to believe my boat drove off by itself?”
“I don’t care what you believe. I’m not here with anyone else.”
Not anyone alive, at least.
Ross’s face flushed with anger and he lifted the binoculars from her chest. “Someone sent you to spy on me,” he said, shaking the binoculars, “and I want to know who.”
“No one sent me. No one is working with me. I’m a botanist. All my work is based on the plant life in these swamps.”
Ross let go of the binoculars and they thumped against her chest. “Not anymore it’s not. I suggest you find a nice rosebush in someone’s front lawn to study. No one is allowed to go poking around this area of the swamp until I say so.”
Maryse felt the blood rush up her neck and onto her face. His arrogance had finally put her in the red, and although Maryse knew it was probably best to be political about the entire thing, she had never managed polite when she was pissed.
“Nothing you or anyone else can say will keep me out of this swamp.”
“Really? If you push the issue, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing and interfering in a federal investigation.”
She gave him a smug smile. “I own the entire game preserve. Good luck making either of those stick.”
“The state owns the game preserve.”
She shook her head. “The state leases the game preserve from me, but I own the land and have the legal right to occupy or work on any square inch I see fit. Read the lease documents sometime.”
Ross threw his arms in the air. “You can’t possibly have purchased an entire swamp.”
“No. I inherited it from my former mother-in-law, Helena Henry.”
Ross froze, apparently recognizing the name. “Helena Henry?”
Maryse nodded.
Ross cursed under his breath. “You’re Luc LeJeune’s wife.”
“The one and only, and he’s going to be thrilled when he hears how you’ve manhandled me.” She lifted the binoculars. “I bruise easily.”
Ross’s eyes widened and he spun around to yell at one of his men. “Get her to the hospital and make sure she’s not injured. Drive slowly and don’t let her out of your sight until I get there to question her. No phone calls to her husband, either. If the hospital wants to release her, ask for a psych eval, but whatever you do, don’t let her leave before I get there.”
“Yes, sir. What’s the reason for the arrest?”
“We’re the damned FBI. It’s none of the hospital’s business why we’re detaining her. Now someone get me a boat so we can go after her accomplice!”
The agent grabbed Maryse by the arm. “This way.”
His grip was tight enough to make her wince and she held in a smile. She hadn’t lied about bruising easily. Ross was just digging himself a deeper grave. The agent directed her to a truck and motioned for her to get inside. Then he reached into the glove compartment and brought out a pair of handcuffs.
Maryse stared at him. “Seriously?”
“You’re a suspect.”
“Suspected of occupying my own property? Technically speaking, you guys are the ones trespassing.”
He clicked the handcuffs around her wrists. “You can tell all that to your attorney.”
Before she could reply, he slammed the door. She watched as he walked around the vehicle, unable to believe how ridiculous the entire situation had become. Looking in the side mirror, she could see Ross, directing the extraction of the car from the pond. Farther up the bayou, a boat approached. Apparently, Ross’s backup had arrived.
The arresting agent climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled away from the pond. Only then did the entirety of her situation hit Maryse, and a sliver of panic ran through her. Not because she had been arrested—she knew good and well they couldn’t make anything stick—and facing a judge didn’t worry her in the least.
Facing her husband was an entirely different story.