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“So now what?” asked Heather, dusting off the back of her lightweight green slacks.

Anthony hopped out of the boat, automatically testing the strength of the boards as he moved. “Now we check out the neighborhood.”

There could be a grow operation or a drug cache of some kind, maybe even a hidden safe house. He didn’t want to speculate about shallow graves. Although he imagined the forest would have swallowed up anything like that over the past twenty years.

Joan glanced down at her open-toed sandals. “We’re going trekking.”

“You two can wait in the shack,” said Samuel. “Or out here, if you want.”

Anthony moved toward the stairs to see if the Kanes’ shack was still standing. There were walls and a roof, at least, although the porch sagged to one side of the small, square plywood building.

Heather smacked a mosquito on her bare arm. “I vote for the shack.”

“Let’s go check it out.” Anthony started up the stairs.

The wind freshened as he climbed, easing the number of insects buzzing around his head. He was too proud to bat at them the way the women were doing. As long as Samuel remained stoic, Anthony would, too.

After a few days in the heat and raw earthiness of Indigo, he was gaining a whole new respect for the residents of Louisiana. The song said if you could make it in New York, you could make it anywhere. He was beginning to think some of these Southerners could kick New York’s butt.

They crossed the canted porch and Samuel eased the door open.

It was surprisingly neat inside.

The floor was dusty, but you could see it had originally been sanded and polished. The walls were painted a bright white, and the furniture was protected by dust covers. Whoever last left the shack hadn’t been in a hurry. And there were certainly no signs of foul play.

Samuel opened the curtains on two small windows. Then he pulled back one of the dust covers to reveal a willow rocking chair with brightly colored cushions. Next, he uncovered a small, floral couch. There was a dusty kitchen table and three chairs in one corner, and two beds against a back wall.

“Toilet’s out the back.” He gestured with his thumb.

Heather groaned.

He chuckled at her reaction. “I’ll check it for snakes before we leave.”

This time, Joan groaned, and Anthony snickered. He wasn’t too crazy about an outdoor privy, but he’d be a man about it. “I’ll get the water bottles out of the boat.”

Luc had thoughtfully provided them with a knapsack stuffed full of drinks and baked goods from the B and B. Smart man. Anthony was already thirsty.

Heather thumbed through a stack of magazines on a side table Samuel had uncovered. “Good Housekeeping,” she said, turning to grin at Joan. “Maybe we can learn something useful.”

“Speak for yourself,” Joan returned. “You’re spoiled.”

Heather flipped open the magazine. “I suppose that’s true enough. I’ve never used an outhouse.”

“It’ll teach you a little humility,” said Samuel, as Anthony left the shack. Anthony didn’t hear Heather’s response.

The dock was in full shade now. Between the bent branches of the oak trees, Anthony could see clouds forming above them. He hoped that would bring the temperature down a few degrees. If fall was this hot, he honestly didn’t know how people around here survived the heat of summer.

He turned at a series of splashes out in the bayou channel and thought he saw a scaly, green tail disappearing on the far bank. He continued to wonder how anyone survived down here. If the insects didn’t get you, the alligators would. And that was before you worried about snakes lurking in the outhouse.

Give him rats and muggers and street gangs any day of the week. At least he knew how to avoid those.

He hopped down into the airboat and grabbed the knapsack from the bench seat. Another breeze came up, and he inhaled the cooler air in relief as he climbed back onto the dock and headed up the stairs.

“You have everything you need?” Samuel was asking the women as Anthony came through the door.

“Anthony.” Heather rushed toward him. “My hero.”

Samuel snorted. “I cleared the cottonmouth out of the privy.”

“I need water before I worry about the outhouse,” she retorted. “There’s biology at play here.”

Anthony grinned. Okay, so Heather could grow on you after a while. He unzipped the pack and handed a water bottle to each of them, then opened his own and drank half of it down.

“So, what else is around here?” he asked Samuel.

Samuel nodded toward the north. “Old Man Barns used to live about a mile up the shore. I’m sure he must be dead by now. And there was a bizarre little hippie place down the other way. Don’t remember anyone living there full-time. There’s a network of trails out back that’ll take us to both.”

“Quieter than using the boat?” asked Anthony.

Samuel nodded.

Joan looked at Anthony. “You think there’s someone out there now?”

“The guy who broke in the second time pretty much vanished into thin air.”

The night photographs Samuel had taken had turned out not too badly, but nobody had seen the man around town.

Joan looked worried. She also looked as if she needed a hug of reassurance. She was obviously holding back because of Heather and Samuel. She and Anthony hadn’t announced their new relationship to the world. Not that he knew what their new relationship was, exactly.

He only knew he wanted to hug her, too.

He touched her shoulder, but it was wholly unsatisfying. “We’re just going to look around. If we see anything suspicious, we’ll report it to the police.”

Joan gave a slow, uncertain nod. “Okay.”

He turned to Samuel. “You ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

ANTHONY WAS dripping with sweat by the time they found Old Man Barns’s shack. Despite the earlier tease of a wind, the air had stilled and the temperature had crept up several degrees. They found the hippie place easily enough. But it was empty, and had been for some time.

Then they’d circled back farther into the forest, trying to find evidence of human activity. Again, nothing.

They were coming up on the Barns shack along a trail through the bush. There was nothing to indicate humans had used it recently, but then it wasn’t completely grown over like some of the old trails Samuel had pointed out.

Suddenly, Samuel put a hand on Anthony’s shoulder.

Anthony came to an immediate halt, twisting his head to look at Samuel’s expression. Samuel tapped his ear and then pointed to the shack. Anthony cocked his head.

They waited without breathing for a few seconds, and Anthony heard a thump. Somebody was inside the shack.

His heart rate jumped, and his sweat turned cold against his skin. The thump was replaced by a scraping noise, as if something were being dragged across the floor.

Samuel indicated with hand signals that he thought they should approach from the back. Anthony nodded.

They backed into the underbrush and made their way around in a wide circle. Scrapes and scratches formed on Anthony’s bug-bitten face and arms. Deep down, he wondered if they were crazy. But he also knew he had to figure out who was threatening Joan.

They made it within ten feet of the back wall of the shack, still camouflaged by the underbrush and the hanging moss.

The noise continued without pause or change. Whoever was inside didn’t know he’d been discovered.

Anthony pointed to the right. “Meet at the front door?” he whispered.

Samuel nodded. “Might as well find out if he’s armed.”

They split up to round the building.

On the way, Anthony checked the small window at his side of the building, but it was dusty and greasy and impossible to see through.

He carefully rounded the final corner to see Samuel coming the other way. Samuel checked out the front window, then shrugged his broad shoulders. He obviously couldn’t see anything, either.