them, and later I’d like you and Andrew to head into town and start asking questions.”
“Breakfast first, and then work,” Andrew said as he ambled into the room and headed toward the coffee.
“Of course, breakfast first,” Jackson said with a grin. It was office intrigue about what Andrew loved most: his job, his girlfriend or food. There was a rumor that he’d once eaten his weight in meat and desserts at a local buffet in Baton Rouge.
Andrew joined them at the table, and for the next few minutes the men spoke about the interviews they’d conducted the night before with the gardener, John Jeffries, and Marlena’s brother, Cory.
John Jeffries was thirty years old, originally from New Orleans, and his alibi for the night of the disappearance was that Cory had been at his cabin and the two of them had been watching horror films and had fallen asleep. According to both Cory and John, they’d slept through the night, John on the sofa and Cory in a recliner, and had both awakened around seven the next morning.
They all stopped talking when Marlena walked in carrying a huge basket of biscuits, a small tray of butter and a variety of jellies. “I’ll be right back with the gravy,” she said, looking at none of them as she set the basket and tray in the center of the table between where the three sat.
“And what are our thoughts of the lovely manager?” Jackson asked in a low voice.
“The verdict is still out,” Gabriel replied. What he’d like to know is if her hair was as soft, if her lips were as hot as they’d been in his dream. He frowned, shoving away these unwanted thoughts. “As far as I’m concerned right now, she’s at the top of our suspect list. If nothing else, she’s a person of interest who might know something that will solve this disappearance.”
He slammed his mouth shut as she returned to the room, carrying a large bowl and ladle of sausage-scented gravy.
“Mmm, smells good,” Andrew said, having already opened a couple of the biscuits on his plate.
For the first time Marlena smiled, and the sight of it shot unwanted warmth through Gabriel’s stomach.
“I hope it tastes as good as it smells,” she replied, and then once again left them alone.
What was wrong with him? Why was this woman already under his skin? Gabriel grabbed one of the warm biscuits and tore it open, irritated by the unfamiliar feelings Marlena Meyers evoked in him.
Although Gabriel had enjoyed sex with a number of women over the years, it hadn’t been that often, and it had always been just sex, with the understanding that he wasn’t a forever kind of man. There was no place for love in his life, never had been, never would be.
Still, something about Marlena Meyers made him think of hot sex, of tangling his hands in her impish blond curls, of feeling the spill of her naked breasts in his hands. It had been a very long time since any woman had affected him this way.
Get a grip, he told himself irritably. She was at the very least a tool to use to gain information on a potential crime, and at the most, potentially responsible for the disappearance of the Connelly family. Not a woman to fantasize about, not a woman to get close to in any way.
All he wanted from her was answers, and to that end, once the meal was over and he knew he’d given her enough time to clean up the kitchen, he went in search of her to accompany him for a walk around the grounds.
It had been too late last night to fully view the surrounding area, and it was possible that some clue or bit of evidence might be found outside.
If the family were being held alive someplace on the property, then before dusk fell, Gabriel would find them. If the family was dead and their bodies were still on the property, then they’d be found as well, before the end of the night.
It was just after eight-thirty when he and Marlena left by the front door, the heat and humidity already like a slap in the face as they walked outside.
“I thought it was humid in Baton Rouge, but this makes Baton Rouge feel positively arid,” he said as they stepped off the porch.
“That’s why July and August are our slowest months of the year. We only had two couples booked for the next few weeks, and I emailed them this morning to cancel their visit.”
“Hopefully we can tie things up here before the next couple of weeks,” Gabriel replied. He pointed toward a shed near a dock that extended out over the pond. “What’s that?”
“It’s a bait shack. You don’t think...” Her voice trailed off as if her thought was too horrible to say out loud.
“I need to check it out,” he said grimly.
“I’ll wait here.” Her voice trembled as he left her side and walked onto the planks at the front of the dock. The bait shop was an oversize shed, and the door was closed.
From outside the wooden structure, he could hear the faint hum of something electric, probably a refrigerator and tanks to hold live bait. He pulled from his pocket a thin latex glove and then reached out for the doorknob, his heart taking on an unsteady rhythm.
Were Sam and Daniella and little seven-year-old Macy dead, their bodies shoved inside this small building? Although Gabriel had worked difficult cases in the past, it never got any easier to work a case where a small child was involved.
He grabbed the doorknob, drew in a deep breath and then opened it. A whoosh of relief escaped him as he saw exactly what he’d hoped to see: a refrigerator, several wells holding minnows, a screened-in box full of live crickets and no bodies.
He looked back at Marlena and shook his head. Even from this distance, he could see the relief that washed over her pretty face. He met her on a graveled path that led near the edge of the water.
“Does the pond have big fish?” he asked as they fell in step together.
“Some of the guests have pulled out real beauties,” she replied. “Mostly catfish and bass and the ever-present bottom-feeding carp.”
“Do you fish?”
“No way. This is as close as I ever get to the pond or any body of water bigger than a bathtub.” Her eyes darkened with a hint of fear. “I never learned how to swim.”
He absorbed this information as he did every minute detail about her and his surroundings. “What other buildings are on the property?” he asked, focusing back on the reason they were taking this walk.
“Just a big gardening shed, John’s place and the carriage house,” she replied.
“We’ll check out the gardening shed, and then I want you to let me into the carriage house. It was too late last night to search there by the time we processed the kitchen and interviewed you, your brother and John, but we need to check the place and make sure nothing is out of order there.”
“Okay,” she replied, her voice filled with anxiety.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, following the path that edged the side of the pond. “You think I’m guilty of something, don’t you?” she said, finally breaking the tense silence between them.
She was definitely guilty of stirring an unexpected, unwanted
