rumored to have put a curse on in the mid-1800s, was none other than Henri Durand, the great-great-great-grandfather of Rufus. And Bo.
Bo smiled slightly. Was he making fun of the curse? Was he serious? Maggie didn’t know him well enough to tell.
“I’m sorry about your divorce,” she said, “but I really don’t think you can hold some nineteenth-century hocus pocus responsible for whatever happened.”
Gopher started barking again, this time with genuine anger. The target of his wrath, Rufus Durand, came around the corner of the house. It was a steamy day, the kind that made sweat pour off some people, and Ru was one of those people. He glared at Gopher, who barked even louder.
“Gopher, shush,” Maggie said, reaching to pet and calm him.
“I’m looking forward to the day when I find that mutt loose and can ship him off to the pound,” Ru said. “Hey, Coz, glad you made it okay. I’m guessing you met the Crozat clan by now. If they give you any trouble, just let me know.”
“So far they’ve been very helpful,” Bo said as he shook Ru’s hand. “Thanks again for working out my transfer. I owe you.”
“I’ll remember that. What’s the line from that movie, The Godfather ? ‘Someday I may ask you to do me a favor.’ Or something like that.” Ru turned to Maggie. “Bo’s ex remarried and the guy got a job on one of the rigs, so they moved down thisway with his son, Xander. I got Bo Buster’s job so he could be closer to his boy.”
“That was really nice of you,” she said with genuine sincerity.
“Family is number one, as I’m sure you Crozats know.” Rufus gave Bo a poke in the ribs. “So remember the family that brought you here . . . and the family that brought your marriage down in the first place.”
Rufus gestured for Bo to follow him back into the house. As soon as they left, Maggie groaned and threw herself on the grass next to Gopher. “Can you believe that idiot, Goph? If there was ever an excuse for a poisoning by arsenic—”
She bolted up from the ground, her memory jogged. She knew where she’d seen arsenic before. She sauntered slowly away from the main house, and then as soon as she was out of anyone’s eye line, broke into a run.
Maggie was out of breath by the time she reached the plantation store. She was about to go in when she realized that she didn’t have the key. “Dammit,” she said, giving the door a frustrated pound. She almost fell into the store when the door unexpectedly swung open. She checked the door handle and lock. It didn’t take a law enforcement expert to see scratches on the metal where someone had jimmied it open, something that wouldn’t be too hard to do on an old door that was half off its hinges.
She stepped into the room and studied all the shelves until she found what she was looking for. There were a few cleaning products left on a shelf once dedicated to them, all coveredwith dust. But there was also a clean, empty rectangle. Clean because someone had taken the product that had been sitting there untouched for eighty years—a box of rat poison with a skull-and-crossbones insignia and, in large letters, the words, “DANGER—ARSENIC.”
Chapter Eight
Maggie stared at the empty spot on the shelf. All of Crozat’s guests except for the Clabbers had accompanied her on the plantation tour. Any one of them—including the Ryker kids—could have easily slipped back into the old store and taken the poison. Then again, so could anyone who lived in Pelican—or who knew the area. It was like looking at one of those online maps that started in tight on a location and then widened out to Planet Earth.
A bead of sweat dripped from Maggie’s forehead into her eye, stinging it. The room’s air was so oppressive that it had actual weight, and she needed to escape. As she closed the door, Maggie checked to make sure no one had seen her and then headed into the woods. She kept walking until she came to an old tree stump, where she
Bo smiled slightly. Was he making fun of the curse? Was he serious? Maggie didn’t know him well enough to tell.
“I’m sorry about your divorce,” she said, “but I really don’t think you can hold some nineteenth-century hocus pocus responsible for whatever happened.”
Gopher started barking again, this time with genuine anger. The target of his wrath, Rufus Durand, came around the corner of the house. It was a steamy day, the kind that made sweat pour off some people, and Ru was one of those people. He glared at Gopher, who barked even louder.
“Gopher, shush,” Maggie said, reaching to pet and calm him.
“I’m looking forward to the day when I find that mutt loose and can ship him off to the pound,” Ru said. “Hey, Coz, glad you made it okay. I’m guessing you met the Crozat clan by now. If they give you any trouble, just let me know.”
“So far they’ve been very helpful,” Bo said as he shook Ru’s hand. “Thanks again for working out my transfer. I owe you.”
“I’ll remember that. What’s the line from that movie, The Godfather ? ‘Someday I may ask you to do me a favor.’ Or something like that.” Ru turned to Maggie. “Bo’s ex remarried and the guy got a job on one of the rigs, so they moved down thisway with his son, Xander. I got Bo Buster’s job so he could be closer to his boy.”
“That was really nice of you,” she said with genuine sincerity.
“Family is number one, as I’m sure you Crozats know.” Rufus gave Bo a poke in the ribs. “So remember the family that brought you here . . . and the family that brought your marriage down in the first place.”
Rufus gestured for Bo to follow him back into the house. As soon as they left, Maggie groaned and threw herself on the grass next to Gopher. “Can you believe that idiot, Goph? If there was ever an excuse for a poisoning by arsenic—”
She bolted up from the ground, her memory jogged. She knew where she’d seen arsenic before. She sauntered slowly away from the main house, and then as soon as she was out of anyone’s eye line, broke into a run.
Maggie was out of breath by the time she reached the plantation store. She was about to go in when she realized that she didn’t have the key. “Dammit,” she said, giving the door a frustrated pound. She almost fell into the store when the door unexpectedly swung open. She checked the door handle and lock. It didn’t take a law enforcement expert to see scratches on the metal where someone had jimmied it open, something that wouldn’t be too hard to do on an old door that was half off its hinges.
She stepped into the room and studied all the shelves until she found what she was looking for. There were a few cleaning products left on a shelf once dedicated to them, all coveredwith dust. But there was also a clean, empty rectangle. Clean because someone had taken the product that had been sitting there untouched for eighty years—a box of rat poison with a skull-and-crossbones insignia and, in large letters, the words, “DANGER—ARSENIC.”
Chapter Eight
Maggie stared at the empty spot on the shelf. All of Crozat’s guests except for the Clabbers had accompanied her on the plantation tour. Any one of them—including the Ryker kids—could have easily slipped back into the old store and taken the poison. Then again, so could anyone who lived in Pelican—or who knew the area. It was like looking at one of those online maps that started in tight on a location and then widened out to Planet Earth.
A bead of sweat dripped from Maggie’s forehead into her eye, stinging it. The room’s air was so oppressive that it had actual weight, and she needed to escape. As she closed the door, Maggie checked to make sure no one had seen her and then headed into the woods. She kept walking until she came to an old tree stump, where she
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