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“What?”
“Even though you look like you went twelve rounds with Mike Tyson, you are so damn beautiful it makes me ache.”
Breath caught in the back of Nola’s throat.
“Oh, Tate, I—”
The front door opened, bringing a brisk wind, and Wade and Cameron with it.
Nola stifled a groan as Wade walked in, talking in his usual bullet-point format.
“Three checked out clean. One checked out of Queens Crossing.”
It wasn’t easy, but Tate made the shift from Nola to business without giving himself away.
“Which one?” he asked.
“Leon Mooney.”
“I remember him,” Nola said. “He was that stocky, middle-aged guy with a gray ponytail, right?”
Cameron nodded. “Right. Good eye. Anyway, we got the tag number of his truck and travel trailer, and put out a BOLO to the Louisiana Highway Patrol. If they find him, they’ll detain him for us to question.”
“And if they don’t?” Nola asked.
“Then we wait,” Tate said. “If it’s him, bodies will show up somewhere else, but if they don’t, there’s every reason to assume our killer’s still here.”
That was a kick-in-the-belly answer she didn’t like.
“So what now?” Cameron asked.
Nola glanced at Tate, and then got up and walked out of the room. They were partners and he was going to tell them about his mother. They deserved that time together without her.
* * *
Laura Doyle was running shorthanded to the point that people who’d come seeking shelter finally stepped up and stepped in for the ones who’d quit.
Peg and Mary were stirring up their usual nonsense with the chili they were making for the evening meal. As if operating shorthanded wasn’t enough to cope with, the weather was turning on them again. Another storm system was sweeping through the state and bringing yet another round of thunderstorms, which meant the flood was going to worsen.
People who had been holding firm on their land had given up and were coming into Queens Crossing seeking shelter, and there was nowhere left to put them. The gym floor was packed to capacity with cots, and after a few frantic phone calls Laura had two churches volunteering their dining areas as new refugee centers. She was shuffling supplies and bedding to both places in hopes they had enough on hand to meet the increased need.
And then the storm hit.
CHAPTER TEN
The first clap of thunder rattled the windows in the deluxe model trailer, waking Wade up with a start. Then he heard the wind and thunder, and relaxed. As long as the noise was nature-made instead of ghosts, he was fine.
Cameron had just finished up the report on the day’s activities and hit Send when the lights flickered. He groaned as he looked down at the laptop, but the backup battery had saved him. The report had gone through. Relieved, he got up to refill his coffee cup and see if there was anything left to eat.
Nola woke up crying and realized her arm was aching.
The bottle of pain pills was on the nightstand, but her water bottle was empty. She shook out a pill and headed down the hall, meeting Tate coming out of his bedroom.
He smoothed the scattered wisps of hair away from her forehead and then cupped her cheek.
“Are you all right?”
“I need to take this, and I’m out of water.”
