Body on the Bayou by Ellen Byron Page A

buddy,” she said, bending down to rub his ears. But the dog, which usually collapsed at her feet and begged for more ear love, wouldn’t stay still. He ran a few circles around her and then took off, looking back now and then to make sure she followed. They reached a clearing near Ginger and Trent’s rendezvous locale, and Maggie heard the thin cry again. Gopher nudged her leg with his nose, and Maggie looked down. She was stunned by what she saw. “Oh my gosh.” Nestled on a bed of leaves was a beautiful but thin calico cat. Three kittens were nestled between her legs.
    As were three Chihuahua-mix puppies.
    “Sweet, sweet babies,” Maggie murmured as she dropped to her knees and petted the mama cat and tiny creatures. “We’ve got to get you to the house. But where’s Momma Doggy?”
    Maggie looked around but saw no sign of another dog. “Come on, Gopher, she must be here somewhere.” Gopher barked and wagged his tail, then headed toward the swampy stream. “You found her?”
    Gopher stopped at the edge of the bayou and barked furiously. “I hope you didn’t find that poor little doggy lying in the water,” Maggie said as she made her way to the basset hound. She looked to where the basset hound was standing and screamed. Gopher hadn’t found the puppies’ mother. But he had located another body . . .
    The lifeless body of Ginger Fleer-Starke.

Chapter Seven
    Ginger lay on her side, her head resting on a rock. Her platinum hair floated in the shallow water at the bayou’s edge; she might as well have been napping. But three Crozat guests had died only months earlier, leaving Maggie all too familiar with what death looked like. A small stream of blood leaked from the back of Ginger’s head into the bayou.
    Maggie pulled out her cell phone. Before she could place a call, she heard footsteps and heavy breathing. Vanessa shoved her way through some bushes and made her way toward Maggie. “I really should follow my doctor’s orders and get some exercise,” Vanessa said between huffs and puffs of breath.
    “What are you doing here?” Maggie asked, stunned to see the woman.
    “I tried texting you, but you didn’t answer.”
    “Yes. There’s a reason for that.”
    “Whatevs. Anyway, I’m glad I tracked you down. We have an emergency. The rental company called and they’ve discontinued carrying the chairs I want for the reception.”
    “Vanessa,” Maggie responded, choosing her words with care as she dialed 9-1-1. “Something has happened.”
    Vanessa’s eyes followed Maggie’s gaze and landed on Ginger’s body. She let out a shriek and then fainted.
    The 9-1-1 operator came on the line. “Hello, help!” Maggie cried out. “There’s a dead woman and an unconscious one, and she’s pregnant, and there are puppies and kittens and a cat, but no mama dog!”
    “All right, honey,” the operator said cautiously. “Now are you able to tell me exactly what drugs you’ve taken?”
    “I know this sounds crazy, but it’s all happening. Send the police and an ambulance to Crozat Plantation. Tell them to go up the side road to the back where the bayou is.”
    “Maggie Crozat, is that you? It’s Delphine Arnaud. I’ll get someone out there right away.”
    Maggie ended the call and then speed-dialed her father. “Dad, emergency! GPS me and bring Mom and the wagon and blankets. Get Ru here, too.” She hung up without waiting for a reply and rushed to Vanessa. She lifted her to a sitting position, which was no easy feat since the pregnant woman had added sixty-five pounds of baby weight to her already-zaftig figure. She slapped the unconscious woman’s face a few times. “Van, wake up. Wake up!”
    Vanessa started, then heaved in a big gulp of air and opened her eyes. “Wha . . .” she said in a weak voice. She saw Ginger’s body and started to sway.
    Maggie shook her to prevent another faint. “Stay with me.”
    “Okay,” Vanessa murmured, still in a daze.
    “Maggie! Maggie, honey,