“I think I should go back,” I said.
“Going back is for quitters,” Scarlet said. “Charge!”
It was too late by then. The muddy, swampy road had taken control of the van, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it but hold on to the wheel like an idiot. We started sliding, and then it was nothing but screams, curses, and a thunk from the back when Rosemarie fell onto the floor. We slid off the road and the van plunked into the marsh.
“Everybody out of the van,” I said. “I don’t know how deep this is.”
“It’s always been my biggest fear to die in quicksand,” Rosemarie said, throwing open the back door.
“Grab whatever you can carry,” I said. “I’ve got some blankets and an extra coat back there.” I hauled Scarlet across my lap and got her out my side and back on solid ground.
“How about that?” Scarlet said. “Turns out you should’ve gone back the other way.”
“Okay,” I said. “Here’s the deal. You two are going to stay here and try to call for help. No,” I said when it looked like Scarlet was going to interrupt. “I’m in charge now. Call for help. I’m going to follow the main road while it’s still light and see if I can find the cabin. I can move faster without you two.”
Scarlet looked like she wanted to interrupt again, but I shot her a look to be quiet.
“Vince has his car. I’ll borrow it and then come back and pick the two of you up. It doesn’t look like the van is moving any, so just open up the back doors and sit in the back and bundle up while you wait for me. I won’t be long.”
“Can I say something now?” Scarlet asked.
“Make it quick.” I was in no mood for any more of Scarlet’s suggestions.
“I just wanted to tell you your pants are unzipped.”
I put on my new leather jacket, zipped my pants, and flounced off down the boarded road where we’d come.
Fifteen minutes later, I had to admit defeat. I was lost.
Not only was I lost, but I was lost in the bayou. The bayou had me, and once it had you it would never let you go. I’d give birth alone, surrounded by nothing but swamp and snakes and gators, and I’d raise him to be a hunter and trapper and we’d live in the marsh. They’d tell stories of us in town and we’d become an urban legend. Unless I got eaten by an alligator, leaving my son to fend for himself like Mowgli in The Jungle Book.
My GPS was having a stroke and the sexy Australian I’d chosen to give me directions kept saying he was rerouting and that we were going on a walkabout. I was about to throw my phone into the trees when I came upon a road slightly hidden behind overgrown brush. But I could see fairly fresh tire tracks.
I started down the road, walking as fast as I dared so I didn’t slip until I came into a clearing. And then I wanted to give a great big shout. In front of me was a tiny fishing cabin with a green tin roof. The cabin was on stilts and there was a bridge that led from the porch, across the marsh, to the levy where Vince’s bright red SUV was parked.
I started running, and then I hit a wet patch and I skidded all the way to the bridge post. If I hadn’t caught it I would’ve ended up face-first in the marsh.
The front door opened, and Vince came out onto the porch with a shotgun. His hand was wrapped in a white bandage, and his face was scraped and bruised. He looked like he’d been through the wringer.
“Don’t shoot,” I said.
“I wasn’t sure what was making all that racket,” he said. “But it makes sense now.”
“Boy, you’re in a lot of trouble.”
Vince smiled. “I can only imagine. You better get in here and get something warm to drink.”
“I can’t stay long,” I said. “The van slid off the road and Rosemarie and Scarlet stayed with it. I told them I’d borrow your car and pick them up.”
Vince nodded. “Keys are in the magnetic box under the tire well.”
“That’s where Dad used to keep them,” I said, remembering fondly. “I don’t mean to be rude, Vince, but what the hell were you thinking? We’ve been looking all over for you. Mom was convinced you were having an affair. I assured her you’re not, so she probably won’t kill you when you come home.”
“I’ve always enjoyed Phyllis in a temper,” he said.
“I’m sure that will be a comfort after the last month,” I said. “I found the file in Dad’s shed on the RICO case. And I tracked down Angelica in Miami. Maybe you could fill in some of the blanks for me.”
Vince’s face went stark white, only emphasizing the cuts and bruises. “You talked to Angelica? Are you out of your mind? Do you know who she is?”
“She told us,” I said.
“Us?”
“Me and Kate. We were there together. And Scarlet,” I added. “But we left her at the hotel.”
“This whole thing is such a mess,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Here, let me put some coffee on while I explain.”
I felt bad about telling him I was off coffee, but I wouldn’t mind holding a hot cup considering my leather jacket wasn’t as warm as it had been in Miami, so I didn’t stop him from making it.
“You know about the RICO case?” he asked.
“Yeah, Kate filled me in on a lot of it. And I found out some from Angelica. She’s a complicated woman. Crazy. But complicated. Who sends their husband and children to prison on purpose?”
“You don’t know the half of it,” he said. “I’ve learned something important over the course of my career.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“To never trust anyone,” he said. “And when Angelica reached
