far wall. Marie Letaux obviously had a taste for whimsy and showed it in little things with which she surrounded—
He stopped inside the door, his gaze drawn to the woman crumpled on the floor beside the stove.
A small, dark-haired woman with hair swept back in a chignon, her eyes wide open, as if she was staring up at him.
Probably Marie Letaux.
Undoubtedly dead.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this happened on your first night here.” Senator Kendal Melton’s first words were spoken with heartfelt sincerity.
“I don’t think it would have been any more pleasant on any succeeding night,” Eve said dryly.
“No, of course not. How do you feel?”
“Lousy. My ribcage is so sore I can hardly breathe.” Eve sat up in bed and gazed at him appraisingly. He appeared far more cosmopolitan than Tanzer. Melton’s gray-streaked hair sported white sideburns, complementing a tan that looked pure West Palm Beach. “But I’m better than I was this morning. I’ll probably be able to work tomorrow.”
“I hope so.” He came closer to the bed. “Was Paul Tanzer helpful? I told him to give you the VIP treatment.”
“He was very kind.”
“It’s our intention to give you all the support you can possibly want.”
“Then tell me what I’m supposed to be working on. I’m getting very tired of all this hush-hush stuff. I took the job; now fill me in.”
“I’ll tell you all I know, but I’m afraid it won’t be as much as you’d like. Hell, I don’t know as much as I’d like. I’m asking you to determine the identity of a skeleton discovered quite recently in the swamps south of here.”
“Discovered by whom? And why wasn’t the skeleton turned over to the local police?”
“Sheriff Bouvier of Jefferson parish got a tip about the possible identity of the skeleton and its location. He was the one who excavated it. The sheriff is a personal friend and notified me. He gave me full permission to try to discreetly discover the identity before he turned in his report. He knew the discovery might present difficulties for me with the media if it wasn’t handled correctly.”
“Why? Whose skull is this supposed to be?”
He hesitated.
“Senator Melton, remind me to tell you about the Miami drug lord who asked me to do a reconstruction on a skull that—”
“No, no. It’s nothing like that. The only reason that we’re trying to keep it under wraps is that we don’t want to raise false hopes. We believe he may be Harold Bently.” He paused. “You don’t remember the press on Bently?”
She shook her head.
“Well, it was over two years ago, but there was a big furor over his disappearance. Bently was a candidate for the senatorial seat I now hold. He was supposed to be a shoo-in, but vanished four months before election day. He was a solid citizen, a man who wouldn’t just disappear of his own accord, so foul play was suspected. But no clues were found. His disappearance has hung like a cloud over my career and I want to lay it to rest.”
“Because you may want to run for president?”
“That’s in the hands of Providence, but I do want to keep climbing. Is that so strange?”
“No.”
“Then help me out. The Bently file has remained open, but nothing has surfaced . . . until this skeleton was found.”
“Have you told his family?”
Melton shook his head. “Not yet. As I said, I was afraid to raise false hopes. Please believe me. I’m not totally selfish. Sure, I want to protect my career, but I also want to be able to give Bently’s wife advance notice before she has to face a media storm again. She’s been through enough.”
“Why do you need me? What about DNA?”
He grimaced. “Unfortunately, the body of the skeleton seems to have disappeared.”
“What?”
“Don’t be alarmed. You’re perfectly safe.”
“Sure I am. Except that someone doesn’t want this body identified. What about the teeth?”
“No teeth. And the skull was burned, but we hoped . .
He stopped inside the door, his gaze drawn to the woman crumpled on the floor beside the stove.
A small, dark-haired woman with hair swept back in a chignon, her eyes wide open, as if she was staring up at him.
Probably Marie Letaux.
Undoubtedly dead.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this happened on your first night here.” Senator Kendal Melton’s first words were spoken with heartfelt sincerity.
“I don’t think it would have been any more pleasant on any succeeding night,” Eve said dryly.
“No, of course not. How do you feel?”
“Lousy. My ribcage is so sore I can hardly breathe.” Eve sat up in bed and gazed at him appraisingly. He appeared far more cosmopolitan than Tanzer. Melton’s gray-streaked hair sported white sideburns, complementing a tan that looked pure West Palm Beach. “But I’m better than I was this morning. I’ll probably be able to work tomorrow.”
“I hope so.” He came closer to the bed. “Was Paul Tanzer helpful? I told him to give you the VIP treatment.”
“He was very kind.”
“It’s our intention to give you all the support you can possibly want.”
“Then tell me what I’m supposed to be working on. I’m getting very tired of all this hush-hush stuff. I took the job; now fill me in.”
“I’ll tell you all I know, but I’m afraid it won’t be as much as you’d like. Hell, I don’t know as much as I’d like. I’m asking you to determine the identity of a skeleton discovered quite recently in the swamps south of here.”
“Discovered by whom? And why wasn’t the skeleton turned over to the local police?”
“Sheriff Bouvier of Jefferson parish got a tip about the possible identity of the skeleton and its location. He was the one who excavated it. The sheriff is a personal friend and notified me. He gave me full permission to try to discreetly discover the identity before he turned in his report. He knew the discovery might present difficulties for me with the media if it wasn’t handled correctly.”
“Why? Whose skull is this supposed to be?”
He hesitated.
“Senator Melton, remind me to tell you about the Miami drug lord who asked me to do a reconstruction on a skull that—”
“No, no. It’s nothing like that. The only reason that we’re trying to keep it under wraps is that we don’t want to raise false hopes. We believe he may be Harold Bently.” He paused. “You don’t remember the press on Bently?”
She shook her head.
“Well, it was over two years ago, but there was a big furor over his disappearance. Bently was a candidate for the senatorial seat I now hold. He was supposed to be a shoo-in, but vanished four months before election day. He was a solid citizen, a man who wouldn’t just disappear of his own accord, so foul play was suspected. But no clues were found. His disappearance has hung like a cloud over my career and I want to lay it to rest.”
“Because you may want to run for president?”
“That’s in the hands of Providence, but I do want to keep climbing. Is that so strange?”
“No.”
“Then help me out. The Bently file has remained open, but nothing has surfaced . . . until this skeleton was found.”
“Have you told his family?”
Melton shook his head. “Not yet. As I said, I was afraid to raise false hopes. Please believe me. I’m not totally selfish. Sure, I want to protect my career, but I also want to be able to give Bently’s wife advance notice before she has to face a media storm again. She’s been through enough.”
“Why do you need me? What about DNA?”
He grimaced. “Unfortunately, the body of the skeleton seems to have disappeared.”
“What?”
“Don’t be alarmed. You’re perfectly safe.”
“Sure I am. Except that someone doesn’t want this body identified. What about the teeth?”
“No teeth. And the skull was burned, but we hoped . .
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