“Out at her place? Long way out there. When are you going to persuade her to move into town?”
“I’m making headway,” Stan lied, knowing that Doral was ribbing him about his running argument with his daughter-in-law.
Stan wanted her to move into town. She demurred. He understood her wanting to stay in the house that she and Eddie had moved into as newlyweds. They’d put a lot of themselves into making it a home, spending most weekends applying elbow grease until they’d got it the way they wanted it. Naturally she would feel a strong bond to the place.
But it would be easier for him to keep an eye on her and Emily if they lived closer to him, and he didn’t plan to give up the argument until Honor came around to his way of thinking.
“I’ll catch up with you after the party,” he told Doral. “But it won’t be late.”
“Hopefully we’ll have Coburn by then. If not, ask around if you don’t see me or Fred right away. We’ll need you.”
“Challenging?”
“Not to Fred and me.”
Coburn figured Honor Gillette would jump at the chance to speak to her father-in-law, but she put up an argument. “He’s not due here until five-thirty. You’ll be gone by then.”
He hoped so, too. But he didn’t want the old man showing up early. He nodded at the phone in her hand. “Make up something. Convince him not to come.”
She used speed dial to place the call.
“Don’t try anything cute,” Coburn warned. “Put it on speaker.”
She did as he asked, so he heard the crispness in the man’s voice when he answered. “Honor? I tried to call you earlier.”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t get to the phone.”
Immediately he asked, “Is something wrong?”
“I’m afraid the party has to be postponed. Em and I both came down with a bug. A stomach virus. I’d heard that one was going around. Two of the kids in Vacation Bible School-”
“I’m on my way.”
Coburn gave his head a hard shake.
“No, Stan,” she said quickly. “We’d expose you, and there’s no sense in your getting it, too.”
“I never catch these things.”
“Well, I’d feel awful if you did. Besides, we’re fine.”
“I could bring you Gatorade, soda crackers.”
“I’ve got all that. And the worst is past us. Em’s been able to keep down some Sprite. She’s napping. We’re feeling a little wrung out, but I’m sure this is one of those things that runs its course within twenty-four hours. We’ll have your party tomorrow evening.”
“I hate to postpone it for Emily’s sake. She’s going to love her present.”
She smiled wanly. “It’s
“Which entitles me to spoil my granddaughter if I’ve a mind to.”
Background noise, which had been loud during their conversation, turned into a racket.
“What’s all the noise? Where are you?” Honor asked.
“Just leaving Royale’s warehouse. If you’ve been sick you might not have heard about what happened here last night.” He encapsulated it. “Fred’s in charge of the posse. Doral briefed me.”
Her eyes on Coburn’s, she said, “This man sounds dangerous.”
“He should be scared silly. Regardless of the holiday, every badge in five parishes is on the lookout. They’ll run this murderer to ground soon enough, and when they do he’ll be lucky if they don’t string him up in the nearest tree. Everybody’s jumpy and wants to avenge Sam Marset.”
“Any fresh leads?”
“A woman’s boat was stolen overnight. They’re checking that out now. And the FBI is on board.”
Honor gave an appropriate murmur that could have been interpreted any number of ways. Stan Gillette must have taken it to mean that she was weary.
“Rest while you can. I’ll call later to check on the two of you, but in the meantime, if you need anything-”
“I’ll call, I promise.”
They exchanged goodbyes and Stan Gillette clicked off. Coburn extended his hand and, with reluctance, Honor dropped her cell phone into it. Meanwhile he was using his own phone to redial the number he’d called earlier. He got the same recorded message. “What holiday is it?”
“Yesterday was the Fourth. Since it fell on Sunday-”
“Today’s the national holiday. Shit. I didn’t think of that.”
He pocketed both phones, then stood there considering the boxes he intended to pillage. “How long will the kid sleep?”
“An hour. Sometimes a little longer.”
“Okay, into the bedroom.”
He nudged her elbow, but she balked. “Why? I thought you wanted to go through the files.”
“I will. After.”
Her expression went slack with fear. “After?”
“After.”
Chapter 9
He nudged her toward the bedroom. Her heart was hammering, and as she entered the room, she frantically looked about for a possible weapon.
“Sit on the bed.”
There was nothing she could reach and utilize before he shot her, but the least she could do was to make a stand. She turned to face him and defiantly asked, “Why?”
He’d removed the pistol from the waistband of his jeans. He wasn’t pointing it at her, but even holding it down at his side and lightly tapping his thigh with the barrel was threat enough. “Sit down on the end of the bed.”
She did as told but with attitude.
He backed up through the doorway and into the hall. Keeping his eyes on her, he used his foot to push the opened box of clothing from the hallway into the bedroom, moving it along the hardwood floor until it was within her reach.
“Pick out some clothes I can wear. It makes no difference to me what it is, but it might to you. I don’t want to defile some sacred garment.”
It took her a moment to comprehend that she wasn’t about to be raped, and that all he wanted from her was a change of clothing. But not mere clothing. Clothes that Eddie had worn.
She started to tell him that he could rot in his bloodstained clothes for all she cared. But he would only take something from the box himself, so what would be the point?
She knelt beside the box and rifled through the garments, choosing a worn pair of jeans and an LSU Tigers T-shirt. She held them up for his inspection.
“Underwear? Socks?”
“I didn’t keep any.”
“Okay, bring the clothes with you into the bathroom.”
“Into the bathroom? What for?”
“A shower. I’m sick of my own stink.”
She looked through the connecting door into the bathroom, then came back to him. “Leave the door open. You can see me from here.”
“Not an option.” He flicked the barrel of the pistol toward the bathroom.
