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“Any news on the missing girls?”
Erica’s thoughts shifted. She doubted she’d ever forget the image of the man’s head. It had been beaten unrecognizable, a large chunk of it stuck to a nearby tree. He’d been dressed only in a robe, so there had been nothing to immediately identify him. Her mind hadn’t stopped racing since the discovery.
For some odd reason, Erica wanted to tell Pamela what she and Guitreaux had found. To just blurt out the news. But she didn’t.
“No, no news,” she said, then took off down the hallway.
“Erica?”
Erica turned. “What?”
“You goin’ back out?”
Erica frowned. She didn’t have to answer to her.
“Because if you are, I want you to be very careful. Those girls didn’t just run off. No,” she said, shaking her head. “They met with someone bad. I sense these things. . . I have since I was a little girl. And I haven’t been wrong yet.” Pamela sighed. “They’re go
Chapter 64
RACHEL OPENED THE front door and walked in. The house still smelled the same, although she knew her life would never be.
The four nights at her mother’s had been therapeutic. Her mother had listened as Rachel filled her in on her life. It was the first time in almost a year that she felt she could be honest about her marriage troubles, but once she started talking, it all came pouring out effortlessly. When she finished, her mother hugged her and told her that she and the kids weren’t just welcome but were expected to stay with her until Rachel could find a teaching position and get on her feet.
Oddly enough, Kelsey had softened a lot during their days in Phoenix. Rachel knew she’d scored brownie points by finally standing up to her situation with Tom. Little Tommy, on the other hand, was angry and wanted to go back home. He hated Phoenix and he missed his dad. Rachel told him they’d work everything out in due time. But for now, she had to return to Louisiana alone, to see to their affairs.
Now, standing inside the front door, she called out for Tom but there was no reply. Without bothering to set anything down, she walked upstairs to talk to him, to tell him her plans. His keys and wallet were on the bureau in the master bedroom, but he was nowhere in sight.
“Tom?” she called.
Nothing.
She checked the bathroom and the kids’ rooms. No Tom.
She was confused. The car was there, his keys, wallet. Maybe he was in the living room and hadn’t heard her.
She went downstairs and when she stepped into the living room, her hand flew to her mouth. One of the big windows was shattered and glass was everywhere.
She hurried to the phone and dialed the detective’s line, but got his voice mail. She dialed the sheriff. Again, voice mail. As she began to dial 911, there was a knock on the door.
She hurried down the foyer, but when she opened the door, no one was there. An envelope lay on the porch step.
She looked at it for a minute, a sense of foreboding deep inside her gut, then she bent and picked it up.
A crow cawed from the side of the house. Rachel quickly glanced its way, then returned her focus to the envelope. She opened it and unfolded the letter inside.
Your husband won’t hurt you anymore.
***
DETECTIVE GUITREAUX SHOWED up at Rachel Anderson’s within seconds of her call. It was almost as though he’d arrived too quickly.
They stood in her kitchen. “And you don’t know who dropped this off?” he asked, his face flushed.
For the first time since she’d known him, he didn’t look so calm and cool. In fact, he looked oddly disheveled with his shirt untucked and his shirt sleeves were rolled up in a hasty fashion. His thick hair was even mussed as though he’d spent hours ru
She shook her head, waves of nausea cascading through her stomach. She thought again of what the note had said. Had someone hurt Tom?
“No. I answered the door and no one was there,” she said.
“And you have no clue what happened to that window? Or where your husband is?”
She shook her head and glanced at the windowsill. Her sunflowers were limp, their leaves dehydrated. Tom hadn’t taken care of them. In fact, he hadn’t nurtured anything in a long while. Still, he didn’t deserve to be hurt.
“And you said you just got back from Arizona.”
“Yes, Phoenix.”
“Right, Phoenix. And you’ve heard nothing from the FBI?”
Rachel’s brow furrowed. “FBI? Why would I hear anything from the FBI?”
“You know a Chris Guidry?” Guitreaux asked.
Rachel was confused. She gazed past the detective, at the lacy towels that hung from the handle on her stove, blue pastel towels lined in red flower petals. They’d been expensive but didn’t even absorb water. They were a façade. Once this was over, she’d get a place in Phoenix, close to her mom’s, and buy only things that were real. Things that were honest, that made sense. “Doesn’t he own Luke’s Diner?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Then yes. I know who he is.”
“How about a Sarah Greene?”
Rachel blinked. Of course she knew Sarah. She’d known Sarah since she’d been a baby. “Why do you ask?”
“You’re telling me you don’t know that she went missing? Chris Guidry, too?”
Her heart leapt into her throat. “Missing? Oh my God.”
“Don’t look so surprised. It’s not becoming.”
But she was surprised. She’d always loved Sarah. What. . . was going on?
“And I suspect you’ll tell me next that you had no idea that Tom and Sarah Greene were having an affair?”
“An aff—?”
Guitreaux shook his head in disgust.
Rachel felt as though a bus had hit her.
“Your husband doesn’t seem to keep to himself very good,” he said. “I’d think you would be very angry with him. And possibly very angry at the girls with whom he transgressed.”
Her voice came out as a squeak. “And you wouldn’t?”
“Oh, of course I would. Anyone in their right mind would. Hell, I, myself, may even go as far as having murderous thoughts. After all, we’re only human. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Blood rushed into Rachel’s cheeks. She was beyond exhausted. But she had to regain her composure. She’d deal with the shock, and the pain later.
“I don’t like what you’re saying, Detective, or how you’re saying it. I didn’t do anything to Tom and I didn’t do anything to those girls. And I’m begi
“Two of your husband’s lovers have disappeared, ma’am. Not one. Two. And this ain’t a big town like Washington, D.C., cher. This is Grand Trespass.”
Lovers. Tom’s lovers.
“And we have a body at the morgue now,” he added, “about ready for identification.”
“Body? Who? One of the girls?”
Guitreaux stared deeply into her eyes as though he were trying to pry something from them. It infuriated her.
She took in a deep breath. “Are you arresting me?”
“No. . . not yet.”
“Then get the hell out of my house. Now. I don’t have time for your games, Detective. I need to find my husband.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but his cell phone rang.
He answered it. “One second, sheriff.” He covered the receiver with his hand and said, “Looks like you got your wish for the meantime. I’m goin’ now. But you might want to stay put. I’ll be back real soon.”
Chapter 65
ERICA’S HAND JERKED opened and the fruit fell, splattering against the moist earth. The taste of decay rocked her taste buds, the not-so-subtle taste of the tomato’s slow death.