The Vanishing (17 page)

Family.

Colette sighed. That summed it up, really. They were a family—able to tease each other about their shortcomings, able to share the good things and the hard things, always there for each other when support was needed, even if that meant taking risks.

The old feelings of longing crashed into her, and she struggled to keep from tearing up. She hadn’t felt the loss this strongly since she was a child, watching other children play with their siblings and parents, watching them get ice cream at the corner store, watching them in their frilly dresses and suits going to church on Sunday.

All the things she’d never had.

Alex slid a plate in front of her. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” she said, trying to collect herself. “Just wandering.”

Alex placed her hand on Colette’s arm. “Take a break from thinking. We have a rule here—no shoptalk over meals. When we’re done eating, we’ll all lay our ideas on the table. We’re going to get through this. I promise you.”

Colette nodded. Alex’s words and the tone of her voice held so much conviction that it was impossible not to believe them.

“I hope everyone’s hungry,” Holt said as he placed a huge plate of pancakes and bacon on the table, “because I have outdone myself.”

“You say that every time,” Max teased as he slid into a chair next to Colette.

Holt grinned and sat across from Colette. “I’m right every time.”

Alex handed each of them silverware and napkins and slid into her chair. “Before we dig in, I just want to say that I’m grateful that Max and Colette are safe with us this morning.”

“I second that,” Holt said and held up his coffee cup in salute. “Now, dig in.”

It was hard not to relax while they ate. The horseplay between Alex and the two brothers and the macho one-upping between Holt and Max were lighthearted and fun. It was so obvious how much they cared for each other and how comfortable they were. Part of that was likely because they’d all grown up together and shared so much history, but the rest of it was because of the great respect they had for each other.

She ate way too much, but with Holt insisting on seconds and Max slipping extra pieces of bacon on her plate, it was hard to resist. Alex, always the hostess, was ready with fresh coffee each time a cup emptied.

Finally, when everyone was stuffed and the last of the dishes was cleared from the table, Holt put on his serious look and Colette knew it was time for business.

“Colette, we didn’t want to worry you with this last night,” Holt said, “but someone broke into your apartment yesterday. That’s why we insisted you come home with us last night.”

“Oh, no!” Of all the things she’d expected Holt to say, this one wasn’t even on the list.

Holt explained how the manager became aware of the break-in and called the police. “It doesn’t look like anything was taken, but they need you to say that for sure.”

“I’ll take you to your apartment first,” Max said, “to take care of things there before I head back to Pirate’s Cove.”

“Actually,” Holt said, “Alex and I wanted to poke around Pirate’s Cove ourselves.”

Max shook his head. “I can’t let you do my job.”

“It’s the agency’s job,” Alex pointed out, “and while we appreciate your dedication, we also think it might be time to change tactics.”

“What do you mean?” Max asked.

“When you first went to Pirate’s Cove looking for Anna,” Alex said, “you introduced yourselves as a couple, so no one knows you’re a detective. If Holt and I show up there with credentials and asking about Anna and the attack on you yesterday, it might change the attacker’s point of view.”

Max frowned. “You think if he knows professionals are working on the case, he’ll back off of Colette?”

“I can’t know for sure, because I have no idea how much the attacker has invested in the information he thinks Colette can give him. If he’s an opportunist only, then I do think there’s a chance he’ll back off.”

Max blew out a breath and Colette could tell he was struggling between wanting to keep her safe and wanting to be in the middle of things. “So what am I supposed to do here?”

“Take care of things at Colette’s apartment,” Holt said, “then do some background work on the people in Pirate’s Cove. Maybe try to run down some leads on the coins. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but you can’t go back into the swamp until we have a better grip on what we’re dealing with, and I don’t want to leave Colette exposed.”

“I don’t, either,” Max agreed.

Colette was torn between wanting Max with her and wanting him to do what he clearly preferred to be doing. “If Max wants to go with you, I’m sure I’d be fine by myself—”

“Not an option.”

“No way.”

“Not going to happen.”

All three of them spoke at once, and Colette gave them a shaky laugh. “I guess I’m outvoted.”

“We just want you safe,” Alex said. “He’s targeted you twice already.”

“And my home,” Colette said. “I can’t even be safe there.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Alex said. “Holt and I have to testify tomorrow in a case in Lafayette. We’re leaving this evening as soon as we get back from Pirate’s Cove. That will leave plenty of room here, so you’ll stay with Max.”

Colette looked over at Max but couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking. His expression was serious and he had a far-off look in his eyes, as if his thoughts were far beyond what was being said in that room. Probably he was thinking that if she hadn’t gotten in the way to begin with, he’d be the one going to Pirate’s Cove to investigate.

Instead, he was stuck playing babysitter.

* * *

C
OLETTE STARED AT HER
formerly tidy apartment and wanted to cry. It wasn’t the mess but the violation she felt at the intrusion into her personal space. She picked pieces of a broken vase up from the floor and placed them in the trash can, not knowing what to do or where to start. The smell of spoiled milk and rotting food assailed her senses, forcing her to place her hand in front of her nostrils.

Max picked up the torn milk carton from the floor and poured what was left of the milk into the sink. He turned on the hot water and grabbed a roll of paper towels from the counter. “Based on the decomposition of the food and milk, the police estimated the break-in happened sometime yesterday morning. I’m guessing it was while we were at Anna’s apartment.”

Colette scooped up broken eggs with what was left of the carton. “What makes you say that?”

“If we assume it’s only one man, then he had to have done this early enough to get back to Pirate’s Cove and follow us into the swamp.”

“If it’s one man.”

“So far, my gut is telling me that it is.”

Colette tossed the eggs and carton into the garage and blew out a breath. “Well, what does your gut tell you he’s going to do next?”

“He thinks you know something, and it’s important enough to him that he risked trying to kidnap you in the middle of the swamp. I think he’s going to continue to come after you until he gets what he wants or gets caught. I’m planning for the latter.”

“Ha. Me, too.” She glanced around at the mess once more. “I guess I should start picking up the worst of this, at least so that the stench doesn’t get any worse.”

“Let me take some pictures first.”

“For your investigative files?”

“Yes, and for your insurance company.”

Colette sighed. Filing an insurance claim hadn’t even crossed her mind. If Max hadn’t been here, she probably would have cleaned it all up and moved past it without even thinking about her insurance coverage. A week ago, something like that would never have skated past her, but since she’d been looking for Anna, her mind seemed unable to focus on anything besides the mystery surrounding her friend.

If only Anna would wake up, but the nurse had confirmed that Anna was still unconscious when she’d called earlier.

As Max snapped pictures, she dug out cleaning supplies and trash bags from the cabinets. When Max finished snapping photos in the living room, she took a trash bag in there and started picking up broken items, then moved back into the kitchen and started clearing the mess from the refrigerator off the floor. A couple of minutes later, Max joined her with paper towels and cleaner.

“This is just so silly,” she said as she picked up a broken jar of jelly. “What in the world would I have hidden in milk or eggs or jelly?”

“Nothing. My guess is he was mad because he didn’t find what he was looking for and had a bit of a fit.”

“That doesn’t sound much like a professional.”

“No, which makes him harder to predict.”

“I wish he would have spared that jelly,” she grumbled as she pulled out her mop and bucket. “It was homemade.”

It took another hour before she was willing to call the apartment in habitable condition. The worst of the mess was cleaned up, broken items were thrown away, and scattered items were collected and sorted into stacks to be dealt with later. Now that she had a reasonable grip on her home, Colette wanted to pull out her laptop and do some research.

She pulled the book of fairy tales out of Max’s backpack and placed it on the breakfast table next to her laptop. Max grabbed two of the few undamaged sodas out of the refrigerator and took a seat across from her.

She pulled the drawings out and flipped through them until she reached the one of the old man. “This is the one,” she said and slid the drawing across the table. “The man looks familiar, but I think in the picture he’s older, which is why I can’t place him exactly.”

He picked up the drawing and studied it, his brow scrunched as he analyzed every inch of the paper. Finally, he frowned and handed it back to her. “You’re right. There’s something vaguely familiar about him, but I can’t place him, either.”

Colette stared at him. “That’s interesting, because the odds of us knowing the same person but when he was younger can’t be very high.”

“Maybe we’re both thinking of different people but he resembles both of them.”

“Maybe, but what if we both think he’s familiar because he’s someone famous? Not A-list-actor famous, but maybe a local politician or television news reporter.”

His eyes widened and he nodded. “That’s a great thought. So we have to think younger and someone we probably saw on television or in print, like a newspaper.”

“Yeah, but that’s when I run out of steam. And somehow, it feels to me like I haven’t seen the face in a long time. I mean years and years.” She frowned. “The first time I saw it, I had the fleeting image of elementary school in my mind, but it passed so quickly, I didn’t think anything of it. Do you think it could be that old? Something we saw in schoolbooks?”

“Maybe.” He got out of his chair and moved behind her, then leaned over to study the drawing again.

She could feel the heat from his body on her back and was dismayed to find her skin starting to tingle from such minimal contact. Before she could stop herself, a mental picture of her and Max at the cabin flashed through her mind—the two of them preparing a meal, as Alex and Holt had done that morning.

As fast as it came, she forced it out of her mind, but still her heart ached just a bit at the vision that could never be. She knew Max was attracted to her, but the walls he’d erected around himself were too high for her to scale. She wouldn’t even know where to start.

“It’s not a president,” he said.

“No,” she agreed, forcing her mind back on the drawing. “I don’t think it would be anyone that important, or the answer would be obvious.”

“Maybe Louisiana history?”

She narrowed her eyes at the drawing, tilting her head first one direction, then another, and suddenly it hit her. She pulled the laptop toward her and began typing.

“What is it?” Max asked.

“An idea. A far-fetched, really crazy idea that happens to fit.”

She clicked on the first link that her search returned and cried out, “Look!”

Max leaned over her shoulder to look at the laptop screen. “Jean Lafitte?”

“Yes.” She fairly bounced in her chair, unable to contain her excitement.

Max frowned. “I guess the drawing does look a bit like him, but I don’t see—”

“Jean Lafitte disappeared and no one knows what happened to him or his treasure. There’s a ton of speculation, but one of the theories is that he died right here in Mystere Parish and took his treasure with him to the grave.”

Max’s eyes widened and he stood upright. “You think he died in Cache? And the coins that Anna spoke of belonged to him? Wow. You’re right. That is far-fetched.”

“But it fits. They even named the town outside of Cache Pirate’s Cove, but I’ll bet no one knows why.”

Max stared at the computer screen again and then back at the drawing, slowly shaking his head. “I guess it’s no more ludicrous than anything else we’ve encountered.”

“Do you realize what this could mean?”

“Yeah, it could mean that Anna knows the location of the most sought-after treasure in the state. And someone thinks that she told you.”

Colette let out her breath in a whoosh as his words registered. She felt the blood drain from her face and clutched the table as a wave of dizziness came unbidden.

“Hey.” Max pulled a chair close to her to sit and placed his hand on her arm. “Nothing is going to happen to you. Not on my watch.”

She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Looking him straight in the eyes, she could see the determination and conviction. “I believe you,” she said, not even a bit surprised that she meant it.

He gazed at her, not moving, and for the first time, she saw a glimpse of the man who hid behind the wall. The man she knew was there.

“Colette…I…” He started to lean toward her, and her heart began to pound. Never in her life had she wanted someone to kiss her more than she wanted Max to kiss her now.

The inches between them disappeared, and just as their lips were to come together, her cell phone blasted through the silence of the apartment. Max jumped up from the chair and walked into the kitchen, as if that was always his plan. Colette looked at his retreating back and sighed as she answered her phone without even bothering to check the display.