Read Online The Helena Diaries - Trouble in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law Series Novellas) by Jana DeLeon - Free Book Online
Authors: Jana DeLeon
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responsible for Maryse’s cabin explosion. All of them agreed that he definitely had motive and opportunity, but no one could get a grasp on Harold having the skill set to deliver.
One of them was about to launch a theory when a man burst into the bar, claiming someone had tried to shoot Maryse in front of the Mudbug Hotel and that Hank, of all people, had pushed her out of the way and gotten shot in the process. I ran out of Johnny’s just in time to see the ambulance screeching to a stop in front of the hotel. I hoofed it down the street and made it just in time to leap inside before they took off for the hospital.
I almost passed out when I saw all the blood. Can a ghost pass out?
Hank moaned the entire ride, and the moaning got louder as they wheeled him into the emergency room and lifted him off the gurney and onto a hospital bed. I dashed down the hall after them as they moved into a private room and stood at the end of the bed as the nurses and doctor went to work cleaning the wound.
My knees almost buckled with relief when I saw that the bullet had only grazed him on the side. The doctor declared that all his internal organs were intact and in working order, and one of the nurses began to clean and bandage the wound.
Of course, Hank wailed like he was dying, but as he’s a man, it was expected. I swear, if men had to give birth, society would have died out a long time ago.
Once they got the wound cleaned and dressed, they moved him to a room on the second floor and gave him something for the pain. He took the meds and promptly started snoring. I took a seat in the corner, figuring the police would show up here eventually, and I wanted to hear everything Hank told them.
Part of me was happy because Hank getting shot meant it wasn’t him and Harold trying to kill Maryse. The other part of me was worried.
If it wasn’t Harold and Hank, then who was it?
Trouble in Mudbug—Chapter Seventeen
Wherein Helena’s cat is out of the bag
Since no one thought to bury me with a watch on, I had no idea how long I’d sat there before I heard the room door creak open.
Make a note, people: Bury your relatives with watches. You never know.
I perked up from my stupor as a detective walked in and roused Hank from his slumber. Hank looked a bit groggy, but as the blue uniform and badge came into focus, he shifted from groggy to panicked. The officer immediately launched into a million questions about what had happened and what he’d seen.
Once Hank realized the cop had no interest in the many other indiscretions he was wanted for, he relaxed, but was unable to provide much information. Hank said he’d been on his way to the hotel to speak to Maryse when he saw her outside the hotel on the sidewalk. As he approached, he heard a whiz and the sound of cracking glass, then a second whiz sounded and he saw bits of brick fly off the hotel wall.
When he realized what was happening, he tackled Maryse to the ground and took a bullet to the side in the process. The officer went on to ask him some pointed questions about the inheritance and Harold, and Hank surprised me once more by telling the officer where he could find his useless father.
The detective appeared frustrated at the lack of information Hank could provide on the shooting, but I knew when my boy was lying, and this time, he was telling the truth.
The officer ducked out of the room to make a call—probably to send someone to round up Harold—and I watched Hank as he fiddled with his bandage and winced. Damned kid never could leave things alone.
The door opened again a minute later and I expected to see the officer come back in, but Harold stepped inside. Hank bolted upright, then grabbed his side and groaned.
“Are you crazy?” Hank asked. “The police were just here, and they’re looking for you.”
“I was waiting outside and saw the detective leave. From the way he tore out of the parking lot, he’s not coming back any time
One of them was about to launch a theory when a man burst into the bar, claiming someone had tried to shoot Maryse in front of the Mudbug Hotel and that Hank, of all people, had pushed her out of the way and gotten shot in the process. I ran out of Johnny’s just in time to see the ambulance screeching to a stop in front of the hotel. I hoofed it down the street and made it just in time to leap inside before they took off for the hospital.
I almost passed out when I saw all the blood. Can a ghost pass out?
Hank moaned the entire ride, and the moaning got louder as they wheeled him into the emergency room and lifted him off the gurney and onto a hospital bed. I dashed down the hall after them as they moved into a private room and stood at the end of the bed as the nurses and doctor went to work cleaning the wound.
My knees almost buckled with relief when I saw that the bullet had only grazed him on the side. The doctor declared that all his internal organs were intact and in working order, and one of the nurses began to clean and bandage the wound.
Of course, Hank wailed like he was dying, but as he’s a man, it was expected. I swear, if men had to give birth, society would have died out a long time ago.
Once they got the wound cleaned and dressed, they moved him to a room on the second floor and gave him something for the pain. He took the meds and promptly started snoring. I took a seat in the corner, figuring the police would show up here eventually, and I wanted to hear everything Hank told them.
Part of me was happy because Hank getting shot meant it wasn’t him and Harold trying to kill Maryse. The other part of me was worried.
If it wasn’t Harold and Hank, then who was it?
Trouble in Mudbug—Chapter Seventeen
Wherein Helena’s cat is out of the bag
Since no one thought to bury me with a watch on, I had no idea how long I’d sat there before I heard the room door creak open.
Make a note, people: Bury your relatives with watches. You never know.
I perked up from my stupor as a detective walked in and roused Hank from his slumber. Hank looked a bit groggy, but as the blue uniform and badge came into focus, he shifted from groggy to panicked. The officer immediately launched into a million questions about what had happened and what he’d seen.
Once Hank realized the cop had no interest in the many other indiscretions he was wanted for, he relaxed, but was unable to provide much information. Hank said he’d been on his way to the hotel to speak to Maryse when he saw her outside the hotel on the sidewalk. As he approached, he heard a whiz and the sound of cracking glass, then a second whiz sounded and he saw bits of brick fly off the hotel wall.
When he realized what was happening, he tackled Maryse to the ground and took a bullet to the side in the process. The officer went on to ask him some pointed questions about the inheritance and Harold, and Hank surprised me once more by telling the officer where he could find his useless father.
The detective appeared frustrated at the lack of information Hank could provide on the shooting, but I knew when my boy was lying, and this time, he was telling the truth.
The officer ducked out of the room to make a call—probably to send someone to round up Harold—and I watched Hank as he fiddled with his bandage and winced. Damned kid never could leave things alone.
The door opened again a minute later and I expected to see the officer come back in, but Harold stepped inside. Hank bolted upright, then grabbed his side and groaned.
“Are you crazy?” Hank asked. “The police were just here, and they’re looking for you.”
“I was waiting outside and saw the detective leave. From the way he tore out of the parking lot, he’s not coming back any time
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