“And Tanzer will call Melton.” Galen nodded. “I might be able to get one of my contacts to work it.” He smiled faintly. “After all, Tanzer is a trou du cul.” Jesus, it seemed a long time since Marie Letaux had used that phrase. So much had happened, so many deaths…

“Be careful,” Nathan said soberly. “I wouldn’t want you to be caught in the trap you’re setting for Hebert. The man gives me the willies.” She had a sudden memory of the chill she had felt when talking to Nathan earlier in the evening. “You be careful, too.”

“I’m always careful.” He finished his coffee. “I have to live to get my Pulitzer.” He started for the door. “Come on, Galen. Get off your ass and take me to the airport.” Chapter 16

« ^ »

LOUISIANA STATE UNIVERSITY

11:45 A.M.

October

"IT’S TERREBONNE PARISH.” PROFESSOR GERALD CASSIDY STRAIGHTENED HIS

bifocal glasses on his nose before looking up at Eve and Joe. “I’d bet on it.”

“You haven’t even tested it,” Joe said. “How can you be sure?”

“I’ll take it to the lab and run some tests, but I’ve seen this dirt before. It’s unusual.

I did a paper on the area for my doctorate.”

Which couldn’t have been too long ago, Eve thought. Cassidy didn’t look a day over twenty-five. “Why is it unusual?”

“High concentration of calcium.” Cassidy pointed to the minute white chips embedded in the dirt. “Shells. Hundreds of years ago, the entire area was flooded and the shells were deposited all over.” He frowned. “But I’ve never run across this heavy a percentage of shells in the soil samples I took. I’d be interested to know where it’s located…”

“We need to be absolutely sure we can start at Terrebonne,” Joe said. “Will you run some tests?”

Cassidy shrugged. “Sure. Come back this afternoon.” He paused. “Why do you want to know? What are you looking for?”

Eve hesitated. “A grave.”

Cassidy made a face. “Good luck. That’s bayou country. Hundreds of waterways, and the Cajuns aren’t all that communicative. They don’t like strangers. It took me months to gather enough information for my thesis.”

“But you must have made a few contacts. Can you put us in touch with anyone who might be able to pinpoint the area where this might be found?”

“Jacques Dufour. If he needs money and wants to cooperate, he knows the bayous better than anyone else I was able to hire. I’ll give you his phone number in Houma.” He opened a desk drawer, took out a black leather address book, and flipped through it. “I wouldn’t use me as a reference. He made no bones about showing his contempt for me.”

“Why?”

“I was twenty-four years old, a little bookish, and not Cajun. All sins in his eyes.” He studied Joe. “Somehow I don’t think you’ll have a problem with him.”

“I won’t.” Eve wrote down the phone number and stood up. “When will you know for certain?”

“It should be about four this afternoon. Are you coming back here?” Eve shook her head as she went toward the door. “Joe will give you our cell number. We’re leaving for Houma right away.”

“They’re going to Terrebonne parish,” Melton said as soon as Hebert answered the phone. “They’re after the grave. For God’s sake, can you screw up any worse than you’ve been doing?”

Hebert smothered the surge of anger. “They won’t find anything.”

“I’m not so sure. You’ve screwed up everything about this business from the beginning.”

“It will be all right. Maybe better than all right. I know those swamps, and the people who live there. Etienne and I grew up near those bayous.”

“Listen to me. I want no disruption. Get rid of them quickly, quietly, and then get your ass back to Boca Raton. Christ, I can’t believe you’ve cut it this close. You’re sure that everything’s on schedule down there?”

“It’s all in motion. I’m sure your informants have already told you that the plan’s working beautifully.”

“Yes, there was an article in the newspaper this morning. Security?”

“In place. As soon as I finish, I’ll get back and tie up any loose ends.”

“Then do it, damn you.” Melton hung up.

Arrogant son of a bitch. Hebert didn’t need Melton to tell him how tight the time frame was getting. His gut twisted every time he let himself think about it. Every move he had made lately had been either threatened or checkmated. It was as if there were some force keeping him from succeeding.

Etienne.

He closed his eyes. Ridiculous superstitious nonsense. He mustn’t panic. All he had to do was remove Duncan and Quinn, and he’d be free to concentrate on his job in Boca Raton. It would be easy to do.

Unless it was a trap.

But even if it was a trap, he’d have the advantage. Every year people disappeared into those swamps and never came out. There was death waiting for the careless around every bend of the bayou. But he was experienced enough to spring any trap—or set a deadly one of his own.

A two-hour flight and he’d be in New Orleans.

An hour later and he’d be deep in the swamp.

Waiting.

HOUMA

4:05 P.M.

October

“Shells?” Jacques Dufour shrugged. “There are shells all over the parish.”

“But this place has a very high concentration of them,” Eve said. “Professor Cassidy said you might know where it was located.”

“I might. I’ll have to think about it.”

Eve gritted her teeth. The man was as arrogant as Cassidy had told them. “Then think about it.”

“Maybe we should just go looking. My swamp tour is the best in the bayou.”

“I don’t want a tour. I want to find a place with—”

“How much?” Joe asked curtly.

“I didn’t say—” Dufour stopped as he met Joe’s gaze. “I have an idea where it might be. My cousin, Jean Pierdu, lives in an area where there are many shells.”

“Then give me his telephone number. I want to talk to him.” Dufour smiled. “He has no telephone. People are very poor here. You’ll have to go to him. Five hundred.”

“Three hundred. And you’d better be right about the shells. I wouldn’t want you to waste your time.” Joe’s voice lowered to silky softness. “Or mine.”

“Too cheap. It’s deep in the bayou, and I might have to—”

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” Joe took a step closer. “Three hundred, and you might come out of that bayou with your skin intact. Annoy me with this bullshit and you may end up alligator bait.”

Dufour’s lips tightened. “You should remember that a bayou can be a dangerous place for someone who isn’t familiar with it.”

“Three hundred.”

Dufour hesitated, then shrugged. “Three hundred.” He turned away. “We leave tomorrow morning.”

“Now.”

“I have a swamp tour in forty minutes, and after that it will be too dark to see.” He smiled maliciously. “We go very close to the trees. I think you’d want to be able to see a coral snake before it dropped in the lady’s lap.” Joe muttered a curse as he watched Dufour swagger away from them.

“It might have gone a little better if you’d been more patient and not threatened him with the alligator,” Eve said.

“I’m tired of being patient.”

That was evident to Eve. Ever since they’d arrived at Houma, she’d been aware that Joe had gone into battle mode. She had seen that side of him only a few times since she had known him. He tried to keep the violence of both past and present apart from her. Yet she still recognized the tension, the alertness, the barely contained eagerness. Yes, eager was the word. He was eager, wanting to break loose, wanting to strike out. No wonder Dufour had backed down. “We might as well find a hotel to check into for the night,” she said. “I need to call Galen and make sure Jane’s safe.”

“Of course, she’s safe,” Galen said. “I believe I’m insulted.”

“Insulted? May I remind you that she and my mother were almost blown up?”

“Good point. But now I have them surrounded by so many of Hughes’s security men that it would take an army to get near them. Even if Hebert could breach the FBI and police guards, it would— ” He stopped. “But Hebert is going to be too busy to make an attempt, isn’t he? Any sign of him?”