“Then how did I get to the hospital?”

“You don’t remember?”

“The last thing I remember was being out on the balcony and thinking I was going to die. Then there was a man… dark hair.”

“That figures. The emergency room people said you were admitted by a small, dark man who handed them your purse with a card that had Paul Tanzer’s name and phone number. He told them to check for food poisoning. He left before they could get any other information. Recognize the description?” Eve shook her head. “I only remember him carrying me and telling me not to go to sleep:”

“How did he get in? Was the house unlocked?”

“I locked the front door myself, and Marie said she was going to lock the back door. She might have forgotten.”

“Maybe.” Galen shrugged. “And maybe he was a Good Samaritan who heard you calling for help and broke in. I’ll check the doors. We may hear from him again. Good Samaritans who don’t expect compensation are rare these days.” He lifted his hand.

“See you. I’ll pick you up tomorrow and take you back to the apartment.” He was gone.

Good Samaritan. If what Galen said was true, he had probably saved her life.

But how had he gotten into the apartment? Well, maybe Marie had forgotten.

She’d ask her tomorrow. She was too sleepy now…

Chapter 4

« ^ »

THE SMALL HOUSE WHERE MARIE LETAUX LIVED WAS ON A TWISTING STREET ON THE

south side of Baton Rouge. Like the rest of the houses on the street, it was old but washed to pristine cleanness, and a pot of pink geraniums bloomed on the doorstep.

She didn’t answer Galen’s first knock. Nor the second or third.

He waited for a few minutes and then tried the door.

Locked.

He examined the lock. Piece of cake. It took him only a few minutes to spring it.

He entered a living room that contained comfortable furniture, but nothing ostentatious. He noticed there were more geraniums on the coffee table. Several family pictures in matching maple frames stared at him from the bookcase across the room. The overall impression was that this was a nice house occupied by nice people.

But Galen’s experience was that things were rarely as they appeared to be. He walked over to the desk and went through it. Letters with a New Orleans return address. A checkbook and savings account passbook, a receipt for the rental of a safety-deposit box dated two days ago. More pictures, unframed, showing a young man in a green T-shirt.

He closed the drawer and moved across the room toward the far door that must lead to the kitchen. He could see the white refrigerator with small colorful magnets against the far wall. Marie Letaux obviously had a taste for whimsy and showed it in little things with which she surrounded—

He stopped inside the door, his gaze drawn to the woman crumpled on the floor beside the stove.

A small, dark-haired woman with hair swept back in a chignon, her eyes wide open, as if she was staring up at him.

Probably Marie Letaux.

Undoubtedly dead.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this happened on your first night here.” Senator Kendal Melton’s first words were spoken with heartfelt sincerity.

“I don’t think it would have been any more pleasant on any succeeding night,” Eve said dryly.

“No, of course not. How do you feel?”

“Lousy. My ribcage is so sore I can hardly breathe.” Eve sat up in bed and gazed at him appraisingly. He appeared far more cosmopolitan than Tanzer. Melton’s gray-streaked hair sported white sideburns, complementing a tan that looked pure West Palm Beach. “But I’m better than I was this morning. I’ll probably be able to work tomorrow.”

“I hope so.” He came closer to the bed. “Was Paul Tanzer helpful? I told him to give you the VIP treatment.“

“He was very kind.”

“It’s our intention to give you all the support you can possibly want.”

“Then tell me what I’m supposed to be working on. I’m getting very tired of all this hush-hush stuff. I took the job; now fill me in.”

“I’ll tell you all I know, but I’m afraid it won’t be as much as you’d like. Hell, I don’t know as much as I’d like. I’m asking you to determine the identity of a skeleton discovered quite recently in the swamps south of here.”

“Discovered by whom? And why wasn’t the skeleton turned over to the local police?”

“Sheriff Bouvier of Jefferson parish got a tip about the possible identity of the skeleton and its location. He was the one who excavated it. The sheriff is a personal friend and notified me. He gave me full permission to try to discreetly discover the identity before he turned in his report. He knew the discovery might present difficulties for me with the media if it wasn’t handled correctly.”

“Why? Whose skull is this supposed to be?”

He hesitated.

“Senator Melton, remind me to tell you about the Miami drug lord who asked me to do a reconstruction on a skull that—”

“No, no. It’s nothing like that. The only reason that we’re trying to keep it under wraps is that we don’t want to raise false hopes. We believe he may be Harold Bently.” He paused. “You don’t remember the press on Bently?” She shook her head.

“Well, it was over two years ago, but there was a big furor over his disappearance.

Bently was a candidate for the senatorial seat I now hold. He was supposed to be a shoo-in, but vanished four months before election day. He was a solid citizen, a man who wouldn’t just disappear of his own accord, so foul play was suspected. But no clues were found. His disappearance has hung like a cloud over my career and I want to lay it to rest.”

“Because you may want to run for president?”

“That’s in the hands of Providence, but I do want to keep climbing. Is that so strange?”

“No.”

“Then help me out. The Bently file has remained open, but nothing has surfaced…

until this skeleton was found.”

“Have you told his family?”

Melton shook his head. “Not yet. As I said, I was afraid to raise false hopes. Please believe me. I’m not totally selfish. Sure, I want to protect my career, but I also want to be able to give Bently’s wife advance notice before she has to face a media storm again. She’s been through enough.”

“Why do you need me? What about DNA?”

He grimaced. “Unfortunately, the body of the skeleton seems to have disappeared.”

“What?”

“Don’t be alarmed. You’re perfectly safe.”

“Sure I am. Except that someone doesn’t want this body identified. What about the teeth?”

“No teeth. And the skull was burned, but we hoped…” Melton shrugged.

“Extracting DNA may be very difficult and time-consuming. We’ll naturally pursue that avenue, but there may be a media leak at any time. I have to have some warning of the identity.”

“So you can put a spin on whatever I find.” Eve shook her head. “It’s not worth it to me.”

“You’re afraid?”

“I’m not dumb. Why should I risk my life for you and your career?”

“The skull was moved to the church in great secrecy. No one will suspect it’s there, and we’ll have people at the church at all times to protect you.” Eve shook her head.

“I don’t blame you for not caring about my problems, but Bently was a good man.” Melton paused. “And he had a wife and three children. I guess I don’t have to tell you what hell they’ve been going through for the last two years.” Good move, she thought bitterly. Calculated or not, the words struck exactly the right note. She knew the agony of going through years of waiting with no closure.

“Think about it. It’s only a few days, a week at most. I’ll get what I want, Mrs.

Bently and the children’s years of agony may be over, and you’ll have the satisfaction of working on an interesting project. Everybody wins.”

“Why didn’t you just send me the skull?”

“We were planning on doing that before the skeleton disappeared. After that happened, I thought we should have increased security. I was also concerned about the media, since you have a greater visibility in your hometown.” Melton grimaced.