to the quiet, and I heard a twig snap. I called out, but no one answered. I had the creepiest feeling I was being watched, so I started the car and made sure the windows were up and the doors locked. It was probably a deer or something. I didn’t wait around to find out. I just wish I felt safe going in the house. I need to get in there and make some notes.”
“I’d change the locks again if I thought it would do any good,” Ethan said. “But the sheriff’s deputies didn’t see any sign the locks had been tampered with.”
Vanessa felt her skin turn to gooseflesh. “We know Carter didn’t see a ghost. So how did the man get in?”
“Maybe there was no man, except in Carter’s imagination.”
“Why are you hedging? We can’t just blow off the lemon drop.”
Ethan pushed his glasses up higher on his nose, his dark hair curlier from the night’s humidity. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this, honey. A number of people have been in the house. Any one of them could’ve set down a package of lemon drops and not remembered where. Isn’t it possible that Carter found them and incorporated them into his imaginary story?”
“Ethan, if you really believed that, you wouldn’t care if I went out there alone.”
“The truth is I don’t know what to believe, other than it’s not smart to take chances.”
“I didn’t. But how long are we supposed to live like this?”
CHAPTER 6
Sheriff Jude Prejean folded Wednesday’s edition of the Les Barbes Ledger under his arm and pushed open the door at Zoe B’s, the jingling of the bell causing a number of folks to look up. He recognized most of the faces. Too early for tourists.
Jude nodded a few hellos while he waited for Savannah to come seat him. The healthy green plant hanging from the ceiling above the window gave the eatery a homey touch.
“Hey, Sheriff. Table for one?”
Jude smiled. “Not today. Two of my deputies will be joining me.”
Savannah picked up three menus. “Right this way.”
He followed her to an empty table in the corner. Outside, the glowing pink sky formed a worthy backdrop for the row of historic buildings across the street. No clouds. It was going to be another scorcher.
“I’ll bring your coffee,” Savannah said. “Are you going to wait to order until your deputies arrive?”
“Yeah, thanks. Shouldn’t be long.”
Jude turned over his cup. Half a minute later Savannah came back to the table and filled it with coffee.
“Pierce is cranking out the beignets this morning,” she said. “Why don’t I bring you some—on the house? You can enjoy them while you’re waiting.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.”
Jude blew on his coffee and took a sip. Best coffee in Saint Catherine Parish. And he’d probably tried them all.
He glanced over at Hebert Lanoux, who was having breakfast with his cronies. Had it really been thirty years since this sweet old gentleman had given him a job stocking shelves at the corner grocery after school? Monsieur Lanoux had outlived his wife and his son and lived a fuller life than a lot of guys twenty years his junior.
Savannah hurried past his table, her brown ponytail swaying, her right hand balancing a large round platter filled with orders. How did such a tiny woman do that? She couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds.
The door opened, and Deputy Chief Aimee Rivette and Chief Detective Gil Marcel came inside.
Jude raised his hand, and the two walked in his direction, their boots clicking on the wood floor.
“Good morning, Sheriff,” Aimee said. “That’s some sunrise.”
“Yep. Enjoy it. Once that sun’s up high, the thermometer will follow.”
Savannah came over to the table and set down a white carafe of coffee and a plate of beignets. “That should get y’all started. I’ll be back to take your order in a few minutes.”
“Help yourselves,” Jude said. “A little lagniappe on the house.”
Gil rubbed his hands together. “Nothing can compare with homemade
“I’d change the locks again if I thought it would do any good,” Ethan said. “But the sheriff’s deputies didn’t see any sign the locks had been tampered with.”
Vanessa felt her skin turn to gooseflesh. “We know Carter didn’t see a ghost. So how did the man get in?”
“Maybe there was no man, except in Carter’s imagination.”
“Why are you hedging? We can’t just blow off the lemon drop.”
Ethan pushed his glasses up higher on his nose, his dark hair curlier from the night’s humidity. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this, honey. A number of people have been in the house. Any one of them could’ve set down a package of lemon drops and not remembered where. Isn’t it possible that Carter found them and incorporated them into his imaginary story?”
“Ethan, if you really believed that, you wouldn’t care if I went out there alone.”
“The truth is I don’t know what to believe, other than it’s not smart to take chances.”
“I didn’t. But how long are we supposed to live like this?”
CHAPTER 6
Sheriff Jude Prejean folded Wednesday’s edition of the Les Barbes Ledger under his arm and pushed open the door at Zoe B’s, the jingling of the bell causing a number of folks to look up. He recognized most of the faces. Too early for tourists.
Jude nodded a few hellos while he waited for Savannah to come seat him. The healthy green plant hanging from the ceiling above the window gave the eatery a homey touch.
“Hey, Sheriff. Table for one?”
Jude smiled. “Not today. Two of my deputies will be joining me.”
Savannah picked up three menus. “Right this way.”
He followed her to an empty table in the corner. Outside, the glowing pink sky formed a worthy backdrop for the row of historic buildings across the street. No clouds. It was going to be another scorcher.
“I’ll bring your coffee,” Savannah said. “Are you going to wait to order until your deputies arrive?”
“Yeah, thanks. Shouldn’t be long.”
Jude turned over his cup. Half a minute later Savannah came back to the table and filled it with coffee.
“Pierce is cranking out the beignets this morning,” she said. “Why don’t I bring you some—on the house? You can enjoy them while you’re waiting.”
“That’d be great. Thanks.”
Jude blew on his coffee and took a sip. Best coffee in Saint Catherine Parish. And he’d probably tried them all.
He glanced over at Hebert Lanoux, who was having breakfast with his cronies. Had it really been thirty years since this sweet old gentleman had given him a job stocking shelves at the corner grocery after school? Monsieur Lanoux had outlived his wife and his son and lived a fuller life than a lot of guys twenty years his junior.
Savannah hurried past his table, her brown ponytail swaying, her right hand balancing a large round platter filled with orders. How did such a tiny woman do that? She couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds.
The door opened, and Deputy Chief Aimee Rivette and Chief Detective Gil Marcel came inside.
Jude raised his hand, and the two walked in his direction, their boots clicking on the wood floor.
“Good morning, Sheriff,” Aimee said. “That’s some sunrise.”
“Yep. Enjoy it. Once that sun’s up high, the thermometer will follow.”
Savannah came over to the table and set down a white carafe of coffee and a plate of beignets. “That should get y’all started. I’ll be back to take your order in a few minutes.”
“Help yourselves,” Jude said. “A little lagniappe on the house.”
Gil rubbed his hands together. “Nothing can compare with homemade
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