Page 68 of Xavier

“Or, he might be scared enough to want protection,” Xavier pointed out.

Energized by the chance to confront Nub LeJeune for his part in luring her out for her attackers, she hurried across the dock, dropped into the boat, and started the engine.

Once Xavier was settled, she spun the boat around and took off toward the location pinned on Xavier’s GPS.

Her previously exhausted body hummed with a combination of anger and anticipation. Nub ran a salvage business and had never been charged with theft or fencing stolen items. Yet he was known for finding almost anything, whether it moved through legal or illegal channels.

As they skimmed the bayou, the sun dipped low over the treetops, casting long shadows and making the still water look dark and inky. Lissette couldn’t help but feel the calm before the storm. The wind would pick up as the hurricane drew closer to shore, sending the first bands of rain slashing through.

She’d really like to be out of Bayou Mambaloa with the rest of the evacuees before it got too bad. She worried it would be a challenge to convince her grandmother to go with her.

The missing reliquaries and the attacks on her might be the least of her worries as the hurricane moved ashore.

She followed the tributaries through the bayou and rounded a sweeping bend into a cove. A weathered cottage stood on stilts, with enough clearance below to shelter trailers, a mower, and a rusty older model car. Beside the house was a large truck, like those used to deliver furniture.

A man with scraggly gray hair and an equally gray beard hefted an ice chest into the cab and turned to watch as Lissette guided the skiff to the dock. She could tell the moment he recognized her.

Nub stiffened but stayed where he was. The man who’d set the lure for her attackers didn’t run.

Chapter 13

Xavier was the first out of the boat. He tied the line to the dock and reached down to help Lissette onto the landing, noting that the water was high enough that it would soon cover the planks. The surge had begun.

He walked slightly ahead of Lissette, shielding her body with his as they crossed the dock and walked up to the house and Nub LeJeune.

The man didn’t run. He stuck his hand in the bib of his overalls and stood as if he’d expected them to come.

Xavier watched that hand he’d hidden, looking for the telltale sign of a gun behind the bib. He couldn’t detect one, but he remained on alert, ready to reach for his own, if he had to.

His instinct was to grab the man by his overalls and jack him up against his truck. This man had played a part in the attack on Lissette. He deserved to be roughed up. Pushing back that urge, he stopped in front of the man. “Nub LeJeune?”

Lissette touched his arm. “It’s him.”

Nub lifted his chin. “That’s me. I’m Nub. What do you want? I’m in a hurry.” He nodded toward the bayou. “Water’s rising. My place is one of the first to flood when storms come in. I don’t have much time before I’m cut off.”

“You found the Gautier reliquary,” Xavier stated. Not a question.

Nub’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The box you found for me,” Lissette said. “The one you left for me to find in the alley behind the yoga studio.”

Nub shrugged. “Okay. Didn’t know it was the Gautier reliquary. You just asked me to look out for those fancy boxes like that. That’s what I did. That’s what I found for you.”

“Why didn’t you just give it to me instead of leaving it behind the yoga studio?” Lissette asked.

“Look,” Nub lifted his chin, “I work in salvage. I find it. I move it. I don’t ask questions, and I keep my head down.”

“And you just happened to put it behind the yoga studio instead of Lissette’s store?” Xavier clenched his fists and spoke to the man through clenched teeth, his anger rising as his control slipped. “Who told you to put it where you did?”

“It’s okay.” Lissette laid a hand on Xavier’s arm, her gaze meeting and holding Nub’s. “What did they threaten you with?” she asked softly.

The older man opened his mouth, closed it and stood stiffly for a long moment. Then his shoulders sagged, and he shoved a hand through his shaggy hair. “They came to me a few days ago and said that if Lissette should contact me about missing reliquaries stolen from the Bayou Mambaloa cemetery, to let them know. Hell, I’d only just heard about the thefts.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sure enough,” he tipped his head toward Lissette, “you contacted me, so I let them know, and that’s when they handed me the fancy box and told me to leave it behind the yoga studio for you and tell you to pick it up at midnight. I told them to go fuck themselves.”

Lissette’s lips curved upward briefly. “I’m sure that went over well.”

Nub shook his head. “They told me that if I didn’t do it, I’d lose everything I own—and my good hand.” He pulled his hand out of his overalls bib. The pinky finger had been splinted and wrapped. “And they weren’t bullshittin’. They only broke this one but said they’d cut off all five fingers if I didn’t do what they said.”

“Bastards,” Lissette said. “I know what it’s like when someone offers you the only choice you can live with. I’ve taken that choice, too, and I’ve regretted it ever since.”