Page 26 of Cursed (Decorah Security 2.0, #14)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Looking to his right Andre saw Morgan staring wide-eyed at him as men’s angry voices shattered the warm mood of the bedroom.

She sat up, exposing her beautiful breasts.

When she saw him staring at her, she dragged up the sheet, and he marveled that she was thinking of modesty.

Or maybe she was right. Maybe the uninvited guests in the front hall would come pounding up the stairs and burst into the bedroom.

That thought had him scrambling out of bed and searching for the clothing that he’d left scattered around the room.

“What’s going on?” Morgan asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered, as he thrust one foot into a pants leg, then the other. Still, he had a good idea of what he was going to hear, if he made it downstairs. Someone had found another body out in the bayou. Another man killed by a large cat.

The front door rattled. Then footsteps hurried across the hall. The door opened, and Janet was speaking to someone.

He had pulled on his jeans and tee shirt. He saw Morgan doing the same.

“Stay here,” he tossed over his shoulder as he scuffed his feet into his shoes.

He was thinking that he was probably wasting his breath by giving Morgan Kirkland orders.

One of the basic things he’d learned about her was that she did what she thought was best. He could only thank the Lord that she’d had sense enough to stay out of the bayou last night.

As he dashed from the room, she followed a few paces behind.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, He found Janet standing against the wall, pushed to the side by a whole crowd of men—Sheriff Jarvis, Dwight Rivers, Bob Mansard.

And Rick Brevard. Relief flooded through Andre when he saw Rick standing there.

He was one of the missing men, apparently alive and well.

The feeling of relief evaporated like water on a scalding griddle as Jarvis got right to the point. “Where were you last night?” he demanded.

“Why do you want to know?” Andre asked.

“Because Henri Dauphin is dead,” Jarvis said, his voice flat.

Morgan stepped up beside Andre and put a hand on his arm. “If you’re here, I suppose you suspect Andre. He was here all night,” she said in a firm voice. “With me.”

All eyes shot to her. From the way the crowd was looking at her, it was pretty clear that they knew Morgan Kirkland and Andre Gascon had just climbed out of bed. The question was—how long had they been there?

Apparently, Jarvis’ had already considered that line of inquiry. “All night?” he asked, tipping his head to one side, looking her up and down, taking in her tousled hair, rumbled clothing and sleepy face.

She kept her face turned toward the sheriff, and Andre waited to see if she was going to back down on the lie.

“Yes. All night,” she answered,

“So, you’re doing more out here than just cataloguing the books in the library?”

“My personal relationship with Mr. Gascon is none of your damn business,” she said.

“It is when it’s tangled up with a murder investigation.”

“You’re saying Henri Dauphin was murdered,” she asked carefully.

Carl Brevard answered. “Yeah. I was there. I couldn’t see nothin’, but I heard a big cat growl. Heard Henri scream. Heard the claws tearing at him.”

“But you didn’t see anything?” she clarified, her voice cool and collected, and if he had ever doubted her abilities as a detective, Andre could see now that she was a thorough professional in her job.

“I didn’t see nothin’,” he admitted. “Henri, he got up to take a leak. I was in the tent.”

“What were you doing camping in the bayou?” she demanded.

He looked down as he scuffed his foot against the Oriental rug, leaving a track of mud which Janet eyed with distaste. “After we dropped the car off, we was plannin’ to do some fishing.”

“You mean alligator poaching, don’t you?” Dwight Rivers muttered, voicing what Andre had been thinking.

“And you didn’t bother telling anyone you’d be gone,” Morgan clarified. Which means you’ve had people running around looking for you since you left here.”

Rick looked defiant. “I don’t have to tell no one my business, Anyways, that’s not the point. The point is that the big cat killed Henri.”

Everyone else knew where this was going. But Morgan, who had been here less than a week, asked the obvious question. “And what does that have to do with Mr. Gascon? Are you accusing him of having a pet jaguar in the bayou?”

Andre felt his heart block his windpipe as he waited to hear how the man would answer.

The sheriff cleared his throat. “We found a leather jacket near the campsite. A jacket people in town have seen Mr. Gascon wear.” He turned to Andre. “I’m going to have to take you in.”

Even as he felt panic threaten to swallow him up, Andre struggled to keep his voice even. “Was the jacket worn at the elbows?” he managed to ask.

“What about it?” Jarvis said, not exactly answering the question.

“That jacket was in my SUV. I was taking it to a church sale. But with everything that’s been going on out here, I didn’t get a chance to drop it off.”

“So you say,” Jarvis answered. His voice turned hard as brass. “We’ll straighten this out down at the police station.”

“No!” Unable to control a spurt of panic, Andre backed away. Maybe he intended to run. Maybe not. All he knew was that he couldn’t take a chance on spending the night in a jail cell. He had to stay out here—at Belle Vista, where he was safe.

He realized instantly that he had made the wrong move. All at once, a gun materialized in the sheriff’s hand. “Hold it right there,” he said with the finality of the guy who holds the winning hand. “You’re coming with me.”

Andre went stark still. In a moment of panic, he had made a terrible mistake. Now he was a dead man. Or as good as dead.

As if from a long way off, he heard Morgan speaking. “You can’t do this.”

“I’m afraid he can,” Rivers said.

The sheriff pulled Andre’s hands behind his back.

As if it were happening in a dream, he felt cold metal clanking around his wrists.

He could hear the sheriff reciting his rights.

When he was asked if he understood, he answered with a mechanical “yes.” He understood all right.

This was the end of his life as he knew it.

His gaze shot to Morgan. There were so many things he needed to say. But he couldn’t tell her any of them in front of this crowd.

“I’ll get you out,” she said.

All he could do was nod wordlessly, because whatever happened, it was too late now for him—for them.

As Jarvis hustled him toward the door, he saw Carl and Rick Brevard looking on in satisfaction. But Dwight Rivers didn’t seem quite so gleeful. Maybe Rivers really was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. But he wasn’t the man holding the power.

Jarvis kept the gun in his hand as he hustled the prisoner to the police cruiser in the driveway. Opening the back door, he helped him inside, then slammed the door.

Andre looked wildly around. A metal grill separated the back seat from the front. And the door panel held no handle. The only way out of here was if Jarvis let him out. And that wasn’t going to happen until they arrived at the police station in St. Germaine.

And probably a crowd would have gathered—courtesy of Carl and Rick.

From a long way off, he heard Morgan’s voice. “Sheriff,” she called.

Jarvis turned to her.

“Mr. Gascon’s lawyer will be in touch with you.”

“You know where to find me.”

The lawman walked around to the front seat and slid behind the wheel, and Andre felt his vision go black as they drove away. Morgan might think she had a way to get him out. But he was sure it wouldn’t be in time.

Morgan watched the Brevard brothers swagger to their vehicle and leave. Had they stolen the jacket and planted the evidence? Or had it been Jarvis himself?

Dwight Rivers lingered. “Sorry,” he said.

“About what?” Morgan snapped.

“Jarvis has been looking for an excuse to arrest him.”

“On trumped-up charges.”

“I hope so.”

She might have stayed to talk about it; instead she charged into the house. Janet was standing in the hall, looking sick and frightened.

“It will be all right,” Morgan called to her as she dashed down the hall to the office.

Snatching up the phone, she called Decorah Security, aware of Janet watching anxiously from the doorway.

Zane Marshall answered.

“Zane, thank God!”

“Morgan, what’s wrong?” he asked as soon as he heard the panic in her voice.

“My client, Andre Gascon, has been arrested. We need a lawyer down here.”

“My first choice would be Dan Cassidy. But I’ll have to check his schedule.”

“Get him to clear it. This is an emergency. Andre will be in a completely hostile environment.” She went on to describe what had happened, and Zane promised to get Dan down to Louisiana as soon as humanly possible. She was about to hang up when Jonah Raider came on the line.

“I’ve researched the maps you faxed.”

Morgan wanted to shout that she wasn’t interested in the damn maps right now. But she knew she’d just sit here brooding. “He found something interesting?” she asked.

“As we guessed, they’re part of a geological survey. If they’re accurate, the Belle Vista property is sitting on a huge reservoir of oil. Enough oil to make someone very rich, Jonah says.”

Morgan whistled through her teeth. Oil. And Andre had said someone was trying to get him off his land. Could that be the reason why?

“When was the survey done?” she asked.

“Last July.”

“About six months before Andre had started having problems with the town,” she mused. “Who commissioned the survey?”

“I haven’t found that out yet.”

“I have to know if it was Andre—or someone else.”

“I’ll tell you as soon as we know. And legal help will be there ASAP.”

That was good to know. But it didn’t calm her fears as she hung up the phone.

“What survey? What are you talking about?” Janet asked.