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“Careful what you wish for, ’Toinette,” he warned, pinching her bottom through the baggy plaid boxer shorts she liked to lounge in.
She scooted away, laughing as she went into their room. Nick darted after her, caught her, and wrapped her in a hug.
“How you doing,bébé?” he asked. “I know you had a rough day.”
“There’s an understatement,” she said, looking up at him. “One dead witness, one battered wife, and my missing guy might turn out to be involved in something criminal.”
“Past performance being the best predictor of future behavior, will that be a surprise?” he asked.
“No, but it will be a disappointment for his mom. I’m rooting for her in this. She’s been through the wars for him. I can’t help but want a good outcome for her.”
“Don’t get your hopes up too high,chère,” Nick cautioned, stepping back.
“I know.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, looking a little forlorn, then concerned as she watched him. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“No,” he said, stripping his shirt off and dropping it in the laundry basket. “But I have a question: Is there any history of violence in his record?”
“Violence? No. Why?”
“Just trying to make some sense of that phone call to Melissa Mercier and that pile of money you found. Add a missing husband into that equation…”
“You can’t think she hired Robbie Fontenot to kill her husband,” Annie said.
“I’m just trying to put puzzle pieces together to see what fits.”
“What about Cody Parcelle?”
“One puzzle at a time.”
“I thought you said the wife doesn’t know Robbie.”
“I’d say I didn’t know him either if I’d hired him to kill my husband, wouldn’t you?”
“I wouldn’t hire anyone to kill my husband,” she said.
“Glad to hear it.”
“I’d kill him myself and dump his body parts in the swamp.”
Nick chuckled. “Well, you are a Cajun girl after all, yeah? She’s not.”
“Do you get that vibe from her, though? That she’d want her husband dead and see it done?”
“No, but people are full of surprises, no?” he said, sitting down on the bed beside her to take off his socks. “I’m not sure what to make of that situation—her and Will Faulkner. They say they’re not sleeping together, but they act like a couple. If they’re having an affair, they’re not doing anything at all to hide it, which makes me think maybe they’re not. They’re either absolutely genuine or they’re the best liars I’ve come across in a while.”
“I thought he was gay,” Annie said.
Nick shrugged. “You’re not the first to say it, but I think if he was, he’d be up front about it. He doesn’t seem to care what people think at all. He knows tongues are wagging about him spending the night at the Mercier house, but he’s there again tonight because he’s not about to leave her home alone when she doesn’t feel safe. She says he’s her only friend here.”
“He sounds like a good friend to have.”
“Yeah. Like he’d do anything for her. Or would he do anything to have her?”
“I don’t know,” Annie said, getting up to turn down the bed, “but I can’t think about it anymore tonight. This day’s been sad enough. Take your shower and come to bed, Mr. Fourcade. I need your arms around me. The world will be just as messed up tomorrow.”
“That’s a fact,” Nick said. “Trouble is a thing that has no end.”
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