Trouble in Mudbug Read Online Free Page B

reputation among the bureau as a ladies’ man, he probably had that one coming. “No, I’m not losing my touch, but our research department needs a swift kick in the ass. This is no lonely, single scientist living like a hermit on the bayou.”
“No? What part’s wrong?”
“For starters, she’s married—to the local cad, no less—and he ran out on her years ago. To top it off, the cad’s mother died recently. The woman was filthy rich, and the reading of the will is tomorrow. Which means this town is probably about to be a clusterfuck of money-grabbing relatives—the least of which is going to be the disappearing husband, since he was an only child.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is this woman is so distracted she barely noticed me, except to be angry about my being in her space. She doesn’t want me in the office and made that perfectly clear. I don’t think this is going to be as easy as we originally hoped.”
“Well, easy or not, it’s still your job. We need to know if that woman’s up to something. Do what you have to—pick locks, read diaries, whatever—just don’t put it in your report. Either she’s part of the problem or she’s not. We need that information sooner than later.”
Luc looked across the tiny office to the locked door. “There is another room here that’s locked. I guess I need to get in there and see what she finds so important that she’d deadbolt an interior door.”
“Sounds like a plan,” his boss said. “And, LeJeune, don’t take rejection so personally. Even a guy like you can’t have them all.”
Luc flipped his phone shut and glanced at a photo on the desk of Maryse and some other woman standing in front of a bar in downtown Mudbug. Her wavy brown hair was longer now, but the body was still the same—toned, tight, and tan. He knew he couldn’t have them all. Hell, he hadn’t had them all, and apparently this was going to be another one of those times.
But damned if he wasn’t going to try.
Maryse rolled out of bed the next morning wishing her life belonged to anyone but her. She fed Jasper before he started wailing for his morning tuna, then walked over to her closet and peered inside, wondering what the heck you wore to a will reading. Business, casual, formal wear? Knowing Helena, and from the pompous sound of her attorney, it was probably somewhere between business and formal. And since her only good suit was still at the dry cleaners, courtesy of cleaning the funeral home floor the day before, her choices were seriously limited.
She sighed as she flipped through T-shirt after T-shirt and realized her wardrobe needed some serious updating if she ever planned to do anything but toodle around the bayou in her boat. God forbid she ever had a date. She would be one of those women who “didn’t have a thing to wear.”
At the thought of dating, Luc LeJeune flashed to mind. Oh, no. She blocked out the thoughts of his tanned skin and muscular build and dug into the back of the closet for something, anything but ratty old jeans. No way was she allowing any thoughts of Luc LeJeune to leak in, especially while she was standing in her bedroom, half-clothed.
Luc LeJeune was the hottest guy she’d seen in forever, and her body’s reaction to him had confused and scared her. Sure, it had been a long time since she’d been with a man…okay, more like two years since there hadn’t been anyone since Hank…but that was no cause to go jumping on the first good-looking man she saw. Especially when she couldn’t afford distractions. Especially when a good-looking man was what had gotten her into the situation she was in right now.
Which brought her back to Helena.
She hadn’t seen the ghost since her visit to the cabin, and Maryse hoped things stayed that way. Maybe there was a delay in transitioning to the other side, and she’d simply gotten the raw end of Helena’s transfer. Surely God wouldn’t let Helena roam the Earth alive and dead. He was