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“I suppose that could be right,” he replied. “So who else have you been thinking about?”
“Charles Lathrop was initially on the cop’s suspect list and as far as I’ve heard he’s still on it. He’s a wealthy businessman who came to my mother for a love spell.”
“Yeah, I remember. The spell didn’t work, and he was angry with your mother. What do you think about him?”
She frowned thoughtfully. “I’m not quite sure what to think about him. I’ve heard that he’s an arrogant ass, but my gut says he isn’t the killer. Still, he should continue to be on our suspect list. The only other person left on our original suspect list is Jeb Tyler, the owner of the bank.”
“Was he seeing your mother?” Jacque asked.
“I have no idea, but he is a prominent member of town who might have secrets he didn’t want exposed. That ends the list we had made, but I’ve thought of a few others to add.” She winced as she shifted positions, her pain ever-present.
“And who would those be?”
“First of all is Greg Hatterly, who is on the city council. Secondly is Hugh Lauren, who owns the Voodoo Lounge and last is Howard Griffen, who owns the grocery store.”
“Speaking of the grocery store, when I pick you up after work tomorrow, we need to stop in there so I can get some groceries.”
“What do you mean when you pick me up after work?”
Once again, his gaze was intent as it held hers. “I will be taking you to work and picking you up afterward,” he replied.
“Oh, Jacque, surely I can drive myself without any issues,” she protested.
“Nope, not going to happen,” he said firmly.
“You didn’t sign up for all this.”
“Yes, I did,” he replied with a little bit of terseness in his tone. “When I signed on to help you with your plan, I also signed on to deal with whatever came up. Somebody tried to kill you, and I’m not going to allow that to happen.”
“I wonder why they aren’t going after you?” she mused.
“Probably because you’re the brains of the operation and whoever is after you knows that if you’re no longer around, our little investigation will stop.”
“You wouldn’t keep investigating to see who killed me?” She shifted positions once again.
He released a deep sigh. “I’ve already done at least a thousand investigations in my lifetime. I would probably tell Daniel everything I know and then leave it up to him. That’s what we need to do now.”
She ignored his last statement and instead focused on the first thing he had said. “At least a thousand investigations? What does that mean?”
He broke eye contact with her and instead gazed at some point over her shoulder. “In my former life before coming to the swamp, I was a Baton Rouge homicide detective.”
He hadn’t really wanted to share that information with anyone here in Dark Waters. He was aware of her staring at him in stunned surprise. He finally returned his gaze to hers.
“I knew it,” she said softly, her eyes still widened in response to his confession. “I knew you were smarter than the average Joe when it comes to these matters. What made you quit that job to move to the swamp?”
He felt as if he’d opened up a whole can of worms, and more than anything he wanted to put the lid back on. “Burnout,” he replied curtly, hoping not to invite any more questions. “And I’ve watched you for the past twenty minutes squirming with pain. You need to take another pill.”
She narrowed her beautiful eyes. “Are you wanting me to take a pill in the hopes that I’ll fall asleep and stop talking…stop asking questions?”
“Maybe,” he replied. “But I can also see that you’re in a lot of pain.”
“I am,” she admitted. She leaned forward and grabbed the pill bottle from the coffee table.
“I’ll go get you a glass of water.” He got up from the chair and a moment later handed her the glass.
She shook out a pill and chased it down with the water, then handed him back the glass. “I still have questions for you. Jacque, I’d like to know you better. I believe you’re worth knowing better,” she said, her voice soft and her gaze caring.
It touched him. She touched him, and he hated it. “Get some rest,” he replied gruffly.
