Body on the Bayou (17 page)

The others stared at him. They were aware of Xander’s selective mutism. “No,” he repeated. He walked over to Gran’, gently picked up Jasmine, and sat on the floor with the pup on his lap.

The two “nos” that he uttered were the first words the Crozats had ever heard him speak. Maggie suppressed the urge to burst into tears and throw her arms around the boy. Instead, she asked in a calm, even tone, “Dad, will you get me two sleeping bags?” The family kept a tent and a handful of sleeping bags on hand for families that wanted the experience of sleeping outside for a night during their stay. Tug nodded and left the room. Maggie sat on the floor with Xander. “Okay, buddy,” she told the boy. “We’re spending the night with Jasmine. But how about I hold her while my mom takes you to wash up and get ready for bed?”

Xander thought for a moment. He stroked Jasmine on her head a few times and then handed the pup to Maggie. Ninette smiled at him. “Come with me, sweetie. I promise
we’ll do everything real fast so you can get back to your little friend.”

She led Xander out of the room, crossing paths with Tug as he returned with the sleeping bags. He set them up while Maggie fed Jasmine some puppy formula.

“He
talked.
Did you hear that?! He said
words.
” With Xander out of the room, Maggie felt free to shed a few happy tears.

“It’s truly a breakthrough for him,” Tug said. “Are you going to call Bo?”

“I’ll tell him in the morning. If I call him now, he’ll just drop everything and drive home. For one thing, I don’t want him on I-10 all sleep-deprived. For another, if he just rushes in here, it might startle Xander back into silence. We shouldn’t make a big deal out of it, even though it
so
is one. If we act like it’s normal, then Xander will be more relaxed and hopefully start talking more.”

Gran’ watched them both from her comfortable roost on the room’s settee. “Anything I can do?” the senior asked. “I doubt it, but it would be rude not to at least ask.”

“How about you make us a couple of nightcaps?” Tug said as he put air in one of the two air mattresses he’d pulled out of the room’s closet.

“Sir, yes sir.” Gran’ responded. “Whiskey neat for you, son. Maggie, what can I whip up for you tonight?”

“Nothing. I want to be alert for Jasmine. And for Xander.”

Gran’ got up, went to Maggie, and deposited a kiss on her head. “I am so proud of my darlin’ girl.”

“For what?” Maggie laughed. “I’m basically a tour guide and hotel housekeeper.”

“You are so much more, and never, ever forget that. Tug, your drink will be waiting for you in the front parlor. My age gives me the liberty to start without you. I could pop off at any minute, and I’d hate for the last thing I see to be an untouched Sazerac.”

Gran’ sauntered out the door. Tug put air in the second mattress and then placed a sleeping bag on top of each one. “There, that should be pretty comfortable.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Tug wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead. “If I haven’t said it lately, I want you to know that your mama and I are real proud of you too, sweetheart.”

Maggie cast her gaze down at the puppy in her lap. “I wish y’all would stop saying that. You’re going to make me cry.” She looked up at her father. “I honestly don’t feel I’ve earned all this pride. But I will, I swear. I’m going to do something someday that will
really
make you proud.”

“Maggie, it’s never about what you do,” her dad said. “It’s about who you are.” He leaned down and hugged his daughter.

Ninette returned with Xander, who was wearing the pajamas from his overnight bag. They were light blue and decorated with a pattern of orange and yellow aliens. “Let Dad and me know if you need us,” Ninette told Maggie. She kissed her daughter good-night and then left the room with Tug.

Xander got into one of the sleeping bags. He held his hands out to Maggie. She got up, carried Jasmine over to the boy, and tucked the pup in next to him. “I’ll be right here next to you,” she said. “And I’m going to check on Jasmine every couple of hours to make sure she’s doing okay.”

Xander nodded and closed his eyes. He fell asleep, and his steady breathing seemed to have a soporific effect on Jasmine, because soon she was also sound asleep with her tiny head resting on his chest. It was such a sweet sight that Maggie snapped a few photos to send Bo in the morning. She checked on the other animals and was relieved to see that none seemed to have any symptoms. Maggie set the alarm on her phone, then climbed into the other sleeping bag and fell asleep.

*

Waking up every couple of hours was not easy on Maggie’s constitution, but she was relieved to find Jasmine sleeping relatively comfortably each time she checked. She fell back asleep after the four
AM
pup exam and dreamed she was wandering through the abandoned property that Ginger visited on her morning jogs. In the dream, Maggie climbed over fallen beams and broken glass, not sure what she was looking for. Then she stopped short. “I found it!” she called out to someone. There were footsteps, and Maggie turned. A face was hidden by a shadow, but Maggie knew it was not the person she expected. They came toward her and she ran, tripping over broken furniture and rotting wood. She heard a voice calling to her—the voice
of salvation. “Maggie,” it called out. “Maggie, where are you?” The stranger gained on her. “Help!” she screamed. She managed to get out of the broken building and began running out of the woods. She heard her name called again and looked around to see where the voice was coming from. She didn’t see the fat tree root in her path and tripped on it, slamming to the ground. She lay there in pain. A hand reached out and grabbed her arm. The stranger yanked her up and Maggie found herself face to face with—

“Maggie, wake up. Maggie?”

Maggie started out of her disturbing dream and bolted up. Her rapid move startled Bo, who was kneeling next to her, and he almost lost his balance. “Way to give me a heart attack,” he said as he righted himself.

“I’m sorry. I was having a nightmare.”

“I could tell. I’ve been trying to snap you out of it. What’s going on? Why are you and Xander sleeping in here on the floor?”

Maggie rubbed her eyes, which were dry and itchy. Her body ached from a lack of rest, and her mouth felt dryer than her eyes. She swallowed a couple of times to wet it. “I need coffee before I give you any details.” She checked on Xander, who was sleeping the sound sleep of children who were able to shut out the world. Then she leaned down to feel Jasmine’s nose, which was cold and wet, and listen to her breathing, which had only the slightest hint of raspiness. The puppy was on the mend.

Maggie looked at her phone and saw that it was six
AM
. She stood up and stretched. “The most important thing,” she told Bo, “is that Xander talked.”

He stared at her. “He what?”

“He talked. He said ‘no.’ Twice.”

“He did?”

“Yes.”

Bo sat back on his haunches. “Sonuva . . .” He got up, went to his son, and gently laid a hand on the boy’s cheek. Xander sighed in his sleep, and Jasmine burrowed her tiny head under his chin.

“You stay with him so he sees you when he wakes up,” Maggie said. “I need to get ready for Van’s big day.”

Bo nodded but didn’t take his eyes off his son. “He talked, Maggie.” His voice was thick with emotion. “My boy talked.”

*

Maggie fought off fatigue with a bracing cold shower. She checked her phone afterward and saw a text from Bo: “Xander woke up. And said ‘hi.’” Maggie shared Bo’s joy over that one small syllable. The joy dissipated when she saw that there were six texts from Vanessa. It was seven fifteen
AM
. Maggie counted to ten to calm herself and then scrolled through the stream of messages. There was nothing that couldn’t wait until a couple of hours before the wedding, so she texted back “I’m busy!” and turned off her cell’s text alert. She drove over to Fais Dough Dough to retrieve her maid of honor dress from Lia and found her cousin in
the kitchen pulling a pan of sticky buns out of the oven. The air was warm and so rich with the scent of butter and sugar that Maggie had to stop herself from drooling. Lia saw the look in her cousin’s eyes and extricated a gooey bun from the pan. She plated the tempting treat and handed it to Maggie. “You’ll burn it off running around for Vanessa,” Lia said.

“I’d like to say you’re wrong, but you’re not.” Maggie waved her hand over the bun to cool it off and then bit into it. The rich pastry melted in her mouth. She saw a bright-purple gown embellished with gold lace hanging from the store’s bathroom door. The dress beamed like a neon casino sign through the plastic that covered it. “That’s the finished product?”

“Yes, and believe it or not, it’s flattering, in a Vegas showgirl way.”

“I never heard of a Vegas showgirl wearing LSU bows in her hair.”

“Yes, well . . . there’s that,” Lia said. Maggie offered up the last bite of her sticky bun, and Lia took it. “Vanessa was in the middle of her last fitting, and Tookie was all over her about that baby weight. ‘You gain any more weight, girl, and you’re gonna need a tentmaker instead of a dressmaker.’”

“Way to show motherly love.” Maggie used her finger to retrieve an errant glob of bun on her plate. “I wonder if Vanessa’s farther along than she thinks.” She placed her empty plate in the store’s dishwasher. “I better go. I need to rest up for tonight’s festivities.”

Maggie hugged her cousin good-bye and took off for home. As she drove past Vanessa and Ru’s property, she saw
workers erecting a tent next to the one framed wall of their future McMansion. She was relieved that the couple had decided to save money by having a potluck reception on their own land. It was tacky as the day was long, but it beat the terrifying alternative Maggie had envisioned—Vanessa insisting that the event be held at Crozat.

Maggie parked in the family lot and saw her dad walking toward her carrying a large, full plastic bag. “Hey, chère,” he greeted her. “We took Jasmine to Dr. Wags. She gave us some more medicine and said the pup’ll be fine. And Xander’s mom stopped by to pick him up.”

“Thanks for letting me know. What’s in the bag?”

“Some of Trent’s things that were left in his room. I asked his wife what to do with his stuff and she said to burn it. Doesn’t seem right, so I’m going through it all to see if there’s anything we can donate.”

It occurred to Maggie that there might be some clue to Trent’s death in his belongings. The police had already gone through everything in the room, but given the limited resources of the PPD and the equally limited experience of Cal and Artie heading up an investigation, there was a good chance they’d missed something. “I’ll do that for you, Dad. I’ll sort it all for charity. It’ll be my good deed for the day. That and everything I do for Van’s crazy wedding. All I ask is that if she calls on the home phone, you tell her you don’t know where I am, but that I’ll be at her place by two. I think three hours of prep time is plenty.”

“Sounds good.” Tug handed Maggie the plastic bag. “This is just a bunch of papers and stuff that were cluttering
his room. PPD’s already been at them, but I’m sure you’ll be able to dig up some clue that they zoomed right by.”

Tug smiled at Maggie. He knew his daughter well.

*

Maggie sat in the middle of the floor of Trent’s guest room, surrounded by the ephemera of the murder victim’s stay at Crozat. Pelican PD had carted away whatever they thought was of interest to the case, but there was enough left behind to keep her busy. She’d already gone through every scrap of paper and was now focused on clothing pockets. She found nothing in his jackets and moved on to pants pockets. Maggie didn’t need price tags to know that Trent’s wardrobe was high-end. The man had expensive tastes that would benefit some of Saint Tee’s poorest parishioners when the Crozats donated his belongings to the church’s outreach program.

She pulled a pair of women’s panties out of the back pocket of a pair of slacks and recoiled. Going through a dead man’s belongings was a creepy business. But in a low, zipped pocket on the calf of a pair of trendy cargo pants, Maggie finally unearthed something interesting. She pulled out a crumpled business card. It was tattered and faded almost to oblivion, indicating that it had been through a couple of wash cycles. She peered closely at the card. All she could make out were faint letters that spelled out Sunset Properties under what was left of a drawing that appeared to be a housing development. Sunset Properties—the company that bought the old Callette place. Maggie couldn’t make out
anything else on the front of the card. She turned it over and saw illegible remnants of letters and numbers. But someone had scribbled a number that had managed to survive the laundry: 1147. Maggie pondered the card. What was Trent doing with it? She could hardly see him as the brains behind some big real estate venture. And what did the four digits, 1147, represent? An address? A locker combination? Part of a phone number?

Maggie’s cell rang, startling her. She saw the caller was Vanessa. She also noticed the time and realized that she was supposed to be at the bride-to-be’s home fifteen minutes ago. She jumped up as she answered the call. “I’m on my way,” she said, then disconnected before Vanessa could dump any crazy on her. She ran back to the shotgun and grabbed her wedding prep supplies. Then she sprinted to the Falcon and peeled out of the driveway.

*

Maggie shoved her way into Vanessa and Ru’s trailer, which was packed with bridesmaids and the bride’s prep team. Lia and Gaynell, already in their bright-purple bridesmaid dresses, were pressed against a wall to stay out of the way, while Ione focused her attention on trying to get one of the trailer’s tiny windows open. “I have got to get more air in this shack,” she said. She gave the window a hard yank and it finally succumbed.

Tookie, fully made up and clad in a sequined, lavender mother-of-the-bride dress, snapped at Maggie, “About time
you showed up. Fix your hair—it looks like crap. Once you put your face on, hand out the bows and pom-poms.”

“Mama, I’m not poufy enough,” Vanessa whined.

“Gimme that.” Tookie yanked a teasing comb out of the hair stylist’s hand and teased up Vanessa’s thick head of hair. She grabbed a can of hairspray and let loose, cementing the style in place. Everyone in the trailer coughed from the fumes.