“Not yet. But we have a lead on the grave site. We’re at Houma and we go into the swamp tomorrow.”

“I’m very good in swamps. I think you need me. Hughes could do my job here, and I—”

“We don’t need you. Stay with Jane. Have you heard from Nathan?”

“No, but he’d more likely contact you. For some reason, he finds me a little annoying.”

“I wonder why. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She hung up.

Eve was relieved. The odds that Hebert would strike again at Jane were slim, but that hadn’t stopped her from worrying. Galen’s attitude might have seemed light, but she knew him well enough now to know that he was dead serious about his job.

Jane was safe in his hands.

She stood up and moved over to the window. It had started to rain; the distant swamp looked gloomy and menacing in the early dusk.

“Did you reach Galen?”

Eve turned to see Joe standing in the doorway. “Yes, Jane’s fine.” She smiled faintly. “He wanted to come and help us. He says he’s good in swamps. I told him we didn’t need him.”

“Thank God. In my present mood I don’t think I could handle Galen’s humor. As it is, I may have to drown Dufour before this is over.”

“Did you find out anything from the department about Jennings?” He shook his head. “Not yet. The FBI took the forensic testing away from them, but the chief is pushing hard to get all the reports as soon as they come out of the FBI labs. I asked Carol to call me as soon as the reports hit any desk in the precinct.” He made a face. “And Rusk isn’t at all pleased about our disappearing before his team got down to Georgia. He’s raising hell.”

“Tough.”

“That’s what I said.” Joe paused. “I don’t suppose you’d let me go alone to see Dufour’s cousin?”

“No.”

“I’m pretty good in the swamps myself. I learned a lot on assignment in Nicaragua when I was a SEAL.”

“I bet you did. And you can’t wait to use it.”

“No.” He held her gaze with a searing intensity that caused her eyes to widen with shock. “You’re not the only one who’s mad as hell. I almost lost you. He’s got to pay.”

Jesus.

She finally managed to tear her gaze away. “I’m going.”

“Just thought I’d try.” He turned away. “I’ll see you in the morning. I’ve got the room next door. If you need me, call.”

Eve stood staring at the door that had closed behind Joe before finally forcing herself to turn back to the window.

If you need me, call.

Her hand clenched on the drape. She did not need him.

But, God, she wanted him.

Chapter 17

« ^ »

1:10 p.m.

October

"HOW CLOSE ARE WE?” EVE ASKED. “IT SEEMS AS IF WE’VE BEEN IN THIS BOAT FOR

days.“

“Only four hours.” Dufour maneuvered the motor-boat around a huge mangrove branch jutting out of the water. “These bayous wind around like eels. You’re lucky you have me to guide you.” He darted a glance at Joe. “Maybe you pay me more money to take you back.”

Joe didn’t look at him. “You’re pushing it.”

“It’s a terrible thing to be lost in the swamp.”

“I’m not lost.” Joe’s gaze shifted to Dufour’s face. “I memorized every turn you’ve taken from the time we left the dock. Do you want me to repeat them back to you?” Dufour blinked, disconcerted. “No.” He quickly looked back at the muddy water ahead. “Can’t you take a joke? A deal is a deal.” Joe smiled without mirth. “That’s my philosophy.” Eve didn’t doubt that Joe had told the truth about knowing where they were, but she didn’t see how. The weather was chilly and damp, and ever since they had left the dock, it had been like being in an alien world. Scraggly cypress trees formed a dark canopy over the narrow, muddy waterway. Brown-black snakes occasionally glided by the boat, and skeletal trees clung with desperation to the bottom of the bayou, fighting for life in this hostile environment. And the vegetation was not the only thing fighting for life.

“What are those shacks on those little islands? Do people actually live there?” Eve asked.

“My cousin, Jean, would not be pleased to hear you call his home a shack. His place is very like those houses. Though most of the places we’ve passed are used primarily as camps by hunters and fishermen,” Dufour said. “But as you go deeper you find Cajuns who live as well as hunt in the swamps and marshes. I told you the people were poor here; they don’t have the guts to get out and earn real money like I do. So they’re lucky to have a roof over their head.”

“Sometimes overcoming poverty isn’t a matter of guts.” He shrugged. “Guts or stupidity.”

“Why are the houses built on stilts? The ground comes up to the front door.”

“That’s not the ground, it’s mud. This area is close to the ocean and, when the tide comes in, it brings the mud with it. When the tide goes out, the houses would sink below the water if they weren’t on pilings.”

“What a precarious way to live,” Eve murmured. Precarious and sad. “How deep is that mud?”

“Sometimes five or six feet.” Dufour grinned. “Not good if you’re a sleepwalker.

You drop off the porch and you have a mouthful of slime.“ He pointed to a shack several yards ahead. ”That’s Jean’s place.“

It was another small cypress shack, built on stilts and linked to the bayou by a narrow pier. A woman came out onto the porch and stood staring unsmilingly at them. She was small, thin, and very pregnant. Two small boys garbed only in dirty Tshirts and underpants were clinging to her skirts.

“Don’t stand there gawping at us, Marguerite,” Dufour said as he guided the boat close to the makeshift pier. “Tell Jean he has guests.”

“We don’t want the kind of guests you bring us. We’ve no use for tourists.” She glanced at Eve. “If you want to see how we Cajuns live, then go somewhere else.

Leave us alone.”

“Such rudeness.” Dufour clucked reprovingly. “I’ll have to tell Jean to beat you more often.” He tied the boat and jumped out on the pier. “Is he here?” She nodded. “He won’t want to see you.”

“Yes, he will. There’s money to be had.” He glanced at the woman’s swollen belly.

“And you can obviously use money right now. Two children under five years and another mouth to feed on the way?”

She hesitated, then turned on her heel. “Bring them.”

“Stay here, Eve.” Joe jumped out of the boat and strode toward the shack. “I’ll just take a little look around.”

Eve stiffened as he disappeared into the house. Joe was obviously in protective mode. The hell she’d stay here.

She scrambled out of the boat, but was only halfway up the wooden dock when Joe came to the door and waved for her to come in. She breathed a sigh of relief.

They were safe.

For now.

“I might know of such a place,” Jean Pierdu said slowly. “How much?”

“Five hundred to take us there,” Joe said. “And another five hundred if you can tell us anything that might be of interest to us about it.” Jean gazed at him impassively. “I know nothing about shells.”

“What do you know about graves?” Eve asked.

His expression didn’t change. “We keep to ourselves here.”

“But that doesn’t mean you don’t know exactly what’s going on,” Dufour said. “I heard rumors there were outsiders here a few years ago. We don’t care about outsiders, Jean. Why not get a little money for yourself?”

“We need it, Jean,” Marguerite said quietly. “He’s right, why should we care about outsiders?”

“Don’t interfere, Marguerite.” Jean was silent a moment, and then slowly nodded.

“A thousand.”

“I can tell you and Dufour are related,” Joe said dryly. “Seven hundred.”

“Give him the thousand, Joe.” Eve’s gaze was fixed on Marguerite and the two children.

Joe smiled faintly. “Okay.” He turned back to Jean. “Where is it?”

“The money.”

Joe reached for his wallet and counted out the cash. “Satisfied?” Jean nodded and stuffed the money in his pocket. “There are two islands about four miles from here. They’re in a little natural pocket of the swamp, and they caught the bulk of the shells when the floods came. That might be what you’re looking for.”