fingerprint is going to hit the national database—it’sprobably going in as we speak—and before you know it, this building will be surrounded by local FBI, all wanting to lock me up or spirit me off to Kansas to be a chicken farmer.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” Sabine asked.
“It is if I want to catch Melissa Franco’s kidnapper,” Raissa said. “I know I’m close. I can feel it, just like last time. If Sonny hadn’t made me as an agent when he did, this would all be over already. The FBI can’t force me to do anything, but I’m sure they’ll send someone to try anyway.”
Maryse looked over at Sabine, who nodded. “All the more reason to get you out of here and hidden in Mudbug,” Maryse said. “I don’t suppose it will take the FBI long to track you down there, but it might buy you a day or two.”
Raissa downed the rest of her scotch. “I’m hoping the presence of more FBI in New Orleans, especially around my shop, will spark whoever took Melissa Franco to make a move they hadn’t planned. I’m sure someone will be checking there. I just have to hope that they report to Sonny, and that Sonny is somehow involved, and that he gets word to whoever…What a mess.”
“And you didn’t even mention the part where you can see Helena. Not sure which is worse, her or Sonny Hebert.”
Raissa sighed. “Thank you for reminding me. I guess the least of my worries is a sexy detective?”
Sabine shook her head. “The understatement of the century. But the first thing we’re going to do is get you out of here and into the Mudbug Hotel, where at least you’ll have people around looking out for you, and hopefully it will take the feds a while to catch on.”
“And your choice of many, many hotel beds, just incase the sexy detective finds you first,” Maryse said and winked at Raissa. “You’d better get to packing. Throw in something slinky, just in case.”
Sabine wagged her finger at Maryse. “You are supposed to keep her out of trouble, not get her in more.” Sabine looked over at Raissa. “Give me a hug and wish me well. I’ll be going straight to Beau’s place from here, so this is the last time you’ll see me before I get back.”
Raissa rose from the table and gave Sabine a hug. “Have a wonderful time. And don’t worry about anything here. I’ve got it handled.”
Sabine released Raissa and nodded, but didn’t look convinced. She gave Maryse a hug and left the apartment.
Raissa headed to her room to pack a bag. This might be her last chance to catch the kidnapper. Her last chance to stop another family from going through the agony and grief of losing their child, then the hundreds of unanswered questions that had followed every return. Hiding in Mudbug wasn’t her first choice, but Maryse and Sabine were right. She wasn’t going to get much done with the FBI—or Zach Blanchard—hounding her.
Maryse’s comment about beds flashed through her mind. Who was she kidding? If anyone was going to hunt her down in Mudbug, she couldn’t help hoping it was Zach.
Maybe it would be easier if Sonny Hebert just killed her.
Zach paced impatiently behind the computer, and the tech, Casey, glared at him for at least the hundredth time. “This isn’t going to go any faster with you pacing,”Casey said. “Don’t you have someone to arrest…a doughnut to eat?”
Zach stopped pacing and shot Casey a dirty look. “I’m trying to avoid pro cessed carbs, and I might have someone to arrest, if I had the results from that fingerprint trace.”
“It’s a national database, Detective, not internal.”
“Damn it, I know what it is. Do you think I don’t know? This is important, is all, and there’s a lot of pressure right now.”
Casey’s expression changed to one of sympathy. “You working the kidnapping?”
Zach sank into a chair next to Casey, watching data whirl by on the monitor in front of them. “Yeah.”
“I think the captain’s got the whole department on
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