The Vanishing (20 page)

“That’s putting it mildly,” Colette said. “Do you think he’s that strange all the time or was that show supposed to scare us?”

“He didn’t decorate that room in the time that it took us to drive up from the gate, and based on the liquid wax in the tops of the candles, they’d been burning a while before we got there.”

“He’s definitely the guy in the drawing. Do you think he was telling the truth about the pawnshop guy giving him all the information on Anna?”

“I don’t know. Something about him was entirely off, and I don’t mean his decorating choices, but what he told us is plausible enough. Most people’s ethics have a price tag, and it looks like Lambert could afford to breach a lot of them.”

“That’s depressing.”

“Yeah…hey, what do you make of that junkyard museum he’s got going on in there?”

“I’d never hire on as a housekeeper. It would take an eternity to dust it all. What are you getting at?”

“I was thinking more from a mental perspective. I know people who have a tough time getting rid of stuff, but all that stuff cluttered in the hallway was over-the-top.”

Colette frowned. “I see. You’re thinking some sort of mental illness? It’s entirely possible. Alex would be the best person to ask.”

“I have a couple of things I want to run by them before they leave. Let’s make a stop by your apartment to pick you up some clothes and then head to Holt’s cabin. I also want to do some research on our friends the pawnshop owner and Lambert. I have a buddy back at the Baton Rouge Police Department who’ll be willing to break a few rules and give me the lowdown.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind my staying with you at Holt’s cabin? I feel a little strange about it.”

“Don’t. They want you to be safe and so do I. Staying at Holt’s is the best way to accomplish that.”

Colette nodded but didn’t look convinced. Surely her unease didn’t come from trusting him with her safety. Clearly, she did. Was it because he’d almost kissed her earlier? He would have gone through with it if that well-timed phone call about Anna hadn’t come through. The reality was, the more time he spent with Colette, the more time he wanted to spend with her. He was drawn to her in a way he never had been to another woman. Not even the last one—his ultimate failure.

He stared out the windshield down the busy street. It was going to be a long night in very cozy surroundings.

Colette wasn’t the only one uneasy about that.

Chapter Sixteen

“I don’t like it,” Holt said as he frowned down at the laptop sitting on the kitchen table in his cabin.

“I don’t, either,” Max agreed.

“So this Lambert is in hock up past his eyeballs?”

“Yeah. My buddy at the Baten Rouge P.D. called his sister-in-law at the tax assessor’s office and got the whole story. Unless he pays his back taxes, his house will be foreclosed on. His credit cards and every line of credit he’s been extended are maxed out.”

“Probably from buying all that stuff he’s hoarding,” Colette said. “The place had more artifacts than any museum I’ve ever been in.”

“That combined with the state of his house,” Alex said, “makes me think something psychological is going on there.”

“Like he has an overwhelming compulsion to be surrounded by stuff?” Max asked.

“It’s far more complex than that, but yes, that’s the bottom line.”

“So he’d be willing to do anything to obtain what he wanted, right?” Max asked.

Alex nodded. “That’s a very real possibility.”

“The room we saw was full of masks,” Colette said. “If he found Cache, he could have easily played the part of the bokor.”

“What about our friends Danny and Tom?” Holt asked.

“Danny is straightforward. He grew up in Pirate’s Cove and did eight years in the Marine Corps after high school. His dad owned the gas station and passed away when Danny was doing his last tour. He came home after that to take over the place. Mother’s been dead for years. He has no debt, no big assets and a DUI conviction from a couple of years back.”

“Typical small-town boy. And Tom?”

Max shook his head. “Not a thing on him in the system, but the interesting thing is that he inherited the café in Pirate’s Cove from the previous owner when he was eighteen. Before that, there was no record of a Thomas Pierre Fredericks anywhere in the public school system in Louisiana.”

“You think the name’s a fake?”

“I think he’s hiding something. He’s consistently denied the existence of Cache, but we all know it exists. Why keep insisting on that line of argument?”

“That’s a good question.” Holt rubbed his chin. “Any ideas on what to do about him?”

“Not much we can do. No one could shadow him in a place that small.”

“True. What about Lambert?”

“I’ve got a buddy watching his house. If Lambert leaves, he’ll follow him.” Max leaned back in the chair and blew out a breath. “But I still don’t have any idea what to do about Cache or the coins. As long as those coins are in the swamp, the villagers will always be in danger. Even if we catch the guy this time, the press is going to have a field day with it, and then everyone will know their secret.”

Holt clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll figure something out. You always do.”

Max watched as Holt and Alex left the kitchen to finish packing for their trip. He hoped his brother was right, because at the moment, he didn’t have a single idea.

Which meant Colette, Anna and the villagers would remain in danger.

* * *

T
HE SUN WAS STARTING
to set as Colette watched Alex rushing from room to room in the cabin, each dash taking only a dozen steps in the small space.

“There’s extra blankets in the hall closet,” she told Colette, “and there’s a casserole in the refrigerator that Holt made last weekend. It’s enchiladas, and you have my word that it’s fantastic.”

“Sounds great,” Colette said.

“If you need to use it, please remember that the hot and cold water faucets are reversed in the master bath.” Alex shot an aggrieved look at Holt, who stood in the kitchen in deep conversation with Max. “So I suggest you get the water to the right temperature before stepping into the shower. Otherwise, you’ll scald or freeze yourself. Neither is good first thing in the morning.”

Colette laughed. “The guest bath is fine. Stop worrying.”

Alex put a stack of clean towels in the second bathroom and stepped back into the living room. “I can’t help it. Worrying is what I do best, especially if I can’t fix it.”

“I understand.”

Alex smiled. “I know you do. Sometimes I wonder if our professions make us want to fix things or us wanting to fix things drove us to our professions. Ah, well, that’s one to ponder sometime when I have nothing to do.”

Holt and Max walked into the living room, and Holt pulled out his car keys while giving Max last-minute instructions.

“There’s no storm in the forecast for tonight, but if you lose power for any reason, the generator is gassed up and ready to go. If you have to leave the cabin tonight for any reason, turn on the alarm.”

“I know,” Max said, guiding his brother to the door. “You’ve already told me twice.”

Holt paused in the doorway and cast one last anxious glance around the cabin then at both of them. “You’re sure there’s nothing we’ve forgotten?”

“I’m certain. Go take care of that trial.” Max gave Holt one final push and closed the door behind him. Then he leaned against the door and sighed.

Colette smiled. “Holt certainly takes his older-brother role seriously. How much older is he?”

“Four months.”

“Oh.” She stared at him, all the implications of what he’d said running through her mind. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize…”

“That our father was a serial cheater? That my mother was sleeping with a married man, trying to get him to leave his wife?” He crossed the room and sank down in the recliner next to her.

All the anger and misery were so clear in his expression, and she struggled to understand what kind of woman deliberately sought to tear down another’s family. And what kind of man pitted his mistress against his wife?

“I don’t even know what to say,” she said. “I guess I assumed since you had different last names that you shared the same mother and different fathers. I can’t even imagine how difficult that situation was for your mothers and mostly for you and Holt.”

“Oh, my mother was just fine. She treated getting pregnant with me like the calculated risk of any other business decision. When our father refused to leave Holt’s mother, she hired nannies and babysitters and domestic help, gave up men completely and moved on to conquer the business world instead.”

“But surely…I mean, she was your mother.”

“She gave birth to me, but she didn’t care for me. I’m not certain she likes me even now. I look like our father. I was a constant reminder of the one thing she truly wanted and couldn’t have.”

The heartbreak in his voice was buried under so many years of explaining things away and making excuses to himself, but she heard it—that unmistakable voice of an unloved child. She knew it all too well. All of a sudden, it was so clear why he’d erected such an impenetrable wall around himself and why she’d sought relationships with the wrong men, looking for the family she’d never had.

They’d taken entirely opposite approaches to fix their wounded inner children, and yet both of them were still broken.

“I don’t even know what to say,” she said. “Your mother’s actions are something I can’t wrap my mind around on so many levels. Having a family is something I dream of, a happy, intact family. I can’t imagine taking such a risk to start one, but even more so, I can’t fathom emotionally abandoning my child.”

He shrugged. “I got used to it. The only time it really bothered me was when I’d stay with Holt. His mom was great. She invited me to stay over all the time, and when I was there, she treated me the same as Holt. I had rules to follow and chores to do and even punishment when I did things wrong.”

“She sounds like a wonderful woman.”

“She was. Still is. She stayed in Vodoun to raise Holt after our father was murdered, but part of her died that day. No matter all the grief he’d put her through. No matter that he cheated again every time she took him back, she still loved him. Right until the bitter end.”

“So she’s no longer in Vodoun?”

“She moved to Florida as soon as Holt went into the service. I’ve visited her there. In Vodoun, there was always a dark cloud over her. Even when she was smiling, it was there like a thin veil of sadness. It’s not there anymore.”

“I’m glad she found happiness. She was a strong woman to have endured all that and still keep her heart open.”

“She was a saint. You know we have another brother, right? Tanner’s only a year younger than Holt and me. When my mom pulled up stakes, dear old Dad just moved right on to the next willing woman.”

Colette stared at him for a moment. “It boggles the mind. So what happened to Tanner’s mother?”

“Our dad played her and Holt’s mother against each other right up to the day he died. He moved her out of town when she came up pregnant, but he didn’t stay with her. He bounced back and forth from woman to woman, ignoring all of his children and pretty much only caring about himself. She moved around a lot and passed away a while back. I’m not clear on the details.”

“And where is Tanner?”

“He’s a game warden in the Atchafalaya Basin.”

“Really? That sounds like an interesting job.”

Max shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess. Holt’s talked to him some about coming in with us on the detective agency. Our father made plenty of money and left it all to his sons. We all have the flexibility to do whatever we want. It’s the one thing I’m grateful for.”

“So do you think Tanner will join forces with you?”

“I hope so. I’m a good tracker, but Tanner makes me look like an amateur. We could have used him on your case.”

“Seems like you did fine to me.”

Max gave her a small smile. “Thanks.”

He rose from the chair. “It’s getting dark. I better check on the boat and lock up the shed. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Okay. I’ll put that casserole in the oven.” She followed him into the kitchen and watched as he walked out the back door and down the path to the dock. So much hurt at such a young age. She’d give anything to have Max’s mother and father right here in front of her.

She’d probably throttle them both with dish towels.

* * *

M
AX WALKED DOWN THE PATH
to the dock, a million thoughts running through his head. He hadn’t meant to dump his miserable childhood and his poor excuse for a father onto Colette that way. The horrified look on her face had said it all.

Not that he blamed her. It was a fairly gruesome tale.

She’d surprised him a bit with her disapproval of his mother’s actions. He’d have thought a successful woman like Colette would have understood better his mother’s desire to be at the top of her profession, but then, maybe the loss of her parents as a child had given her all the more reason to want something different for her own children.

Maybe he’d misjudged her.

Maybe his own mistakes and prejudices were causing him to make incorrect assumptions about other people’s beliefs and desires. Holt had said as much that day when he’d talked to him out on the dock. His older brother had known his thinking was flawed, but he hadn’t pressed the issue. He’d simply put some thoughts out there and left Max to roll them around in his mind as he always had. Holt always believed a man should make up his own mind.

Maybe it was time for him to man up and do it.

He checked to make sure the boat was securely tied and then locked the storage shed. He could see Colette through the kitchen window as he walked back toward the cabin. She was taking dishes down from the cabinets. Her long dark hair was up in a ponytail held in place with a blue ribbon that matched her T-shirt.

She was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen.

He walked in the back door to a wonderful smell coming out of the oven. “That smells incredible.”

Colette grinned. “It does, doesn’t it? If that tastes half as good as it smells, I’m giving Holt an award for best husband ever.”