Chapter Two
Maryse stopped at the office with the intention of making a quick in-and-out stop. The state was trying to determine if the orchid cypripedium kentuckiense, known to regular folk as the Southern Lady’s Slipper, was reproducing as a poisonous hybrid. All she needed to do was get the picture the state had sent her and head for the bayou where things were safe, sane, and normal.
Except that the office wasn’t empty.
A man sat at her desk, his back to the door. A man she’d never seen before. A man with a lot of nerve, since he was trying to log in to her computer.
Apparently, the hacking effort had him totally engrossed because he didn’t seem to hear her come in. Maryse pulled the door shut with a bang and got a small satisfaction out of making him jump. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my office?” she asked.
The man turned around in the chair, and Maryse felt her breath catch in her throat. He was gorgeous. Long black hair pulled into a ponytail, dark eyes, and skin with that deep brown coloring that implied Creole or Native American. He smiled at her, and she blinked. Even his teeth were perfect.
He rose from the chair and extended his hand. “I’m Luc LeJeune.”
Maryse stared at him a moment more, then shook his hand. “And you’re doing exactly what in my office, trying to break into my computer?”
Luc glanced back at the computer, then looked back at her. “Oh, that. Well, you see, I’m a zoologist for the state. I’m going to be working here with you for a while…maybe a couple of months, and this is the only computer in the office I could find.”
Maryse’s head whirled. “Working here? There’s barely room for me.” Technically, there were two offices, but one was her lab, and by God, she wasn’t giving it up. “There’s only one bathroom.”
Luc smiled again. “I don’t mind sharing as long as you leave the seat up.”
Good looking and funny too. God help her. “This is not going to work,” Maryse said. “There is one desk in here, one computer. There’s no way we will both fit.”
Luc shrugged. “Guess we’re going to have to. I have a job to do, and this is where the state sent me. Based on the time you showed up here today, I assume you spend most working hours in the bayou. Either that or you’re really not a morning person.”
Maryse bristled. “I’m fine in the morning, Mr. LeJeune. This morning I was attending a funeral for my mother-in-law. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Luc glanced at her bare left hand. “You’re married? That’s a shame. This assignment was starting to look interesting.”
“No, I’m not married. Well, technically, I’m married, but not really.”
Luc looked at her in obvious amusement. “You’re not really technically married? I’m fascinated. What’s the story?”
She paused for a moment, deciding on an answer. “I’m getting a divorce.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Maryse sighed. “Look, Mr. LeJeune, I don’t really care to discuss my personal life with you, I don’t care to share my office with you, and I sure as hell don’t care to leave the seat up on the toilet. Now, if you don’t mind removing yourself from my desk, what I do care to do is use my computer so that I can manage a bit of work today before the daylight is gone.”
Luc slid the chair to the side and grinned, aggravating her even more. “All yours.”
Maryse pulled a metal chair up to the computer since the rude zoologist apparently had no intention of giving up her comfortable leather chair. First thing tomorrow morning, she was calling the state about this. There was no way she was going to have that man snooping around her research, using her computer, looking over her shoulder.
Like he was doing now.
Luc LeJeune had rolled his chair back toward her and now the arm of her leather chair was almost touching the arm of the cheap metal thing she currently sat on. In the cool, air-conditioned office, she could feel the heat from his body as he shifted toward her, his arm and shoulders not even an inch from hers.
She lifted her arm away from his warmth and leaned forward in her chair and slightly to the side in order to block his view of the keyboard. Then she tapped in her password. The screen flickered, and she opened her mailbox and started scanning for the picture she needed. Leaning back again in her chair, she clicked to open the e-mail she’d been searching for.
“So who was your mother-in-law?” Luc asked. She could feel his breath on her neck.
Silently willing her hormones into submission, she frowned. “Ex-mother-in-law. And why would you want to know? You’re not from Mudbug.”
Luc shrugged. “My grandparents used to live on the bayou in the next town. They have friends in Mudbug. I figure your mother-in-law might have been someone they knew.”
“Ex-mother-in-law, and her name was Helena Henry.”
Luc let out a laugh. “You’re the one who married Hank Henry? Wow, that sucks. No wonder you’re not technically married. Hank’s been gone for, what, a year now?”
Maryse gritted her teeth and worked to control her voice. “Two years actually, but I’m sure that’s about to change.”
Luc studied her for a moment, then frowned. “So the wicked witch is dead. Ought to make things interesting.”
Maryse clicked on the picture she was looking for and sent it to print. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “She was filthy rich, right? Always interesting when someone with that much money dies.”
Damn. His words brought her right back around to Hank’s likely reappearance and Helena’s definitive one. She grabbed the printout from the printer and was about to shut down the computer when the office phone rang. She reached for it, but Luc got there first, sliding the headset just out of her grasp.
“Luc LeJeune,” he answered and gave her a lazy smile.
Maryse turned back to the computer, determined to ignore him, but his next words caught her attention.
“Yes, sir,” Luc said, his voice the epitome of respect. “She just walked in. Can I ask what this is concerning?”
Maryse jumped out of her chair and grabbed the phone from Luc. She covered the headset with one hand and glared at him. “When I need someone to screen my calls, I’ll hire a secretary.” She moved her hand and turned her back on Luc. “This is Maryse Robicheaux.”
“Ms. Robicheaux,” an ancient, very proper-sounding voice spoke. “My name is Randolph Wheeler. I’m the attorney for Helena Henry’s estate.”
Unbelievable. Helena was planning on collecting Hank’s debt even from the grave. Maryse gritted her teeth and tried to modulate her reply. “If you’ll give me your mailing address, Mr. Wheeler, I’ll be happy to mail the last two payments to you tomorrow.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, then Maryse heard the attorney clear his throat. “I apologize, Ms. Robicheaux, but apparently there’s a misunderstanding here. I’m not calling to collect anything on behalf of the estate. Quite the contrary, actually. My call is to notify you that you’ve been named in Helena Henry’s will and your presence is requested at the reading tomorrow.”
Maryse sank into her chair, stunned. “Helena named me in her will? What the hell did she leave me—more debt?”
There was another pause and Maryse could feel the attorney’s disapproval coming across the phone line. “Ms. Robicheaux, I’ll be happy to cover all of that tomorrow. The reading will begin at one o’clock at my office in New Orleans. The street address is 115 Morgan. Do you need directions?”
“No,” Maryse said, her aggravation slowly giving way to disbelief. “I’ll be there.”
“Then I’ll see you at one o’clock.” The lawyer disconnected.
Maryse dropped the phone from her ear and sat completely still. What the hell? Life had offered her far more surprises lately than she’d ever asked for, and none of them the pleasant kind. Whatever Helena had left her couldn’t be good.
“So,” Luc said, “the old bat left you something. Cool.”
Maryse stared at Luc, momentarily surprised that she’d completely forgotten he was in the room. “I seriously doubt anything to do with Helena Henry will ever be called cool.” She reached for her mouse and closed her e-mail.
She’d been given more to worry about in this single day than a person should have in an entire lifetime, and more than anything, she needed to get out in the bayou and away from people. If there was any chance of getting a grip on her racing thoughts, the bayou was the only place it would happen.
She grabbed her printout off the desk, shut down her computer, and jumped up from her chair before Luc realized he still didn’t have access to her PC. “I’ve got work to do,” she said as she headed out the door. “We’ll settle this whole office thing tomorrow afternoon, but I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were you.”
Luc LeJeune watched as Maryse slammed the office door shut behind her. Things hadn’t gone exactly as he’d planned. He had intended to waltz into the office, charm the woman who worked there, get the information he needed, and get the heck back to DEQ headquarters in New Orleans before he remembered why he hated small towns.
But Maryse Robicheaux might prove to be more of a problem than the Department of Environmental Quality had originally thought.
He turned to the computer, his fingers posed to start an intensive search of her personal files, when he realized the password box was flashing at him again. Damn it. She was sneaky. He’d give her that. And if he hadn’t been pressed for time on this case, he might have even been amused. He yanked his cell phone from his shirt pocket and pressed in a number.
“Wilson,” the man on the other end answered.