“You sure?”
“Heath, I’m not some rookie who doesn’t know his head from his backside.” Jeb’s voice held more than a touch of defensiveness. “You asked me to keep my eyes open, and let you know if I spotted anybody around town who looked suspicious.”
“Sorry. This whole situation has got me on edge. Tell me what you saw.”
Heath picked up his cup, drank the rest of the coffee, and waved at Daisy for a refill. He’d driven into town early. He had a lot on his plate to handle today, and meeting up with Jeb hadn’t been on his list of things to do. Jeb waved him down as he’d headed into the sheriff’s station, and they’d walked to the diner together.
“Doing my rounds, I noticed a couple of cars in the B&B’s parking lot. Nothing odd about that, I know. One is a rental out of Houston, and before you ask, yes, I checked the plate, which is how I know it’s from Houston. I’ve got the info on that, but I doubt you’ll need it. The other car has Louisiana plates.”
Heath’s body went on alert at the mention of Louisiana. Could be a coincidence. After all, they were the next state over, and people from there drove into Texas all the time. But his instincts, his intuition, that special knack which kept him on the balls of his feet when something big was about to happen, pinged inside his skull.
“Tell me about the Louisiana car. Did you run those plates?”
“Yep. Vehicle went missing two days ago in New Orleans. Owners reported it stolen last night. They thought their teenage son took it out joyriding with his buddies. When he came home and they discovered he didn’t have their car, they reported it to the police.”
“Is it still in the B&B parking lot?”
Jeb nodded. “It was twenty minutes ago.”
Daisy stood beside their table with a coffee pot in her hand and began refilling Heath’s cup. She leaned her hip against the side of the upholstered booth, and whispered, “Couldn’t help overhearing y’all. You talking about the couple from Louisiana?”
“Couple?”
She nodded, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. “They stopped by last night, not long before closing. Asked about a place to stay for a night or two, and I referred them to Edna’s. Gotta tell you, something about the husband gave me the willies. His eyes,” she gave an exaggerated shiver, “they were cold and dead. Kinda like a shark, only he seemed so ordinary. You’d probably pass him on the street and never blink. Unless you looked into his eyes. Then you’d pray he didn’t slit your throat.”
“Whoa, pretty vivid description, Daisy.” Jeb leaned back and stared at her, his eyes wide. Heath didn’t blame him. He’d known the pretty, perky waitress ever since she’d come to Shiloh Springs to help run the family business, and her words sent chill bumps spreading across his arms.
“Did they talk much? Mention why they were in Shiloh Springs?”
“No. They barely said anything, except to place their order. The man ordered for them both. Come to think of it, they didn’t talk much to each other, either. They ate and left, didn’t linger.”
Heath tossed some money onto the table and stood, Daisy stepping back out of his way. “Jeb, feel like going and having a chat with our Louisiana friends?”
Jeb’s answering grin held a touch of unrestrained glee, like he’d been waiting for Heath to ask. “Sounds good.”
“Thanks, Daisy.”
“No problem. Give me a shout if you need anything else.”
The drive to the only bed and breakfast in town took about ten minutes, and Heath parked beside the car with the Louisiana plates. The silver-colored sedan wouldn’t warrant a second look in most cases, but the out of state plates stood out in a small town like Shiloh Springs. A cursory glance through the windows didn’t reveal anything out of the ordinary for a couple traveling. A plastic bag sat on the floor of the passenger side, and looked like it held fast food napkins and snack cake wrappers.
He and Jeb headed up the front steps, and Heath couldn’t help noticing the place was starting to look the worse for the wear. The paint on the shutters was peeling in spots, and a couple of the boards on the porch had nails popped up. He remembered a couple of summers when he’d been a teen, the church had rounded up volunteers, and they’d helped Miss Edna fix the place up. She was a widow lady who’d lived in Shiloh Springs for as long as he could remember, and inherited the bed and breakfast when her husband passed. He made a mental note to talk to his momma. Might be time to gather the troops and give Miss Edna’s place a little sprucing up. The bed and breakfast itself was a grand old place, and with a little elbow grease and spit and polish, would again return to the showplace it had once been.
Opening the front door, he strode through with purpose, Jeb following close behind, and headed for the front desk. Glancing through the open office door behind the polished wooden surface, he spotted Miss Edna seated in an overstuffed chair with her feet propped up on a footrest. Not wanting to make her come to him, he skirted around the reception desk and walked through the office doorway.
“Heath Boudreau, is that you?” Her booming voice echoed through the tiny office space, and he grinned. He’d forgotten Miss Edna’s frail appearance might fool you into thinking she was old and delicate, but when she opened her mouth, a longshoreman’s voice came out.
“It sure is, Miss Edna. How’s my favorite gal?”
Laying her book on her lap, she fluffed her hair, a soft pink blush staining her cheeks. “I’m hanging in there. I haven’t seen you in forever. Have you finally stopped all your foolishness and come home?”
“I’m only visiting this time, Miss Edna. I needed to talk to a couple of your guests, so I headed over. I get the added bonus of seeing your beautiful face.”
“You always were a flatterer.” Dropping her feet off the footrest, she stood. Heath’s hand gently cupped her elbow, giving her support as she swayed for a second. Because she was a Shiloh Springs institution, he sometimes forgot she was older than she looked.
“Which one of my guests are you look for?”
“A couple who checked in yesterday. From Louisiana.”
Edna nodded, and headed for the reception desk. “You’re talking about the Shacklefords. Nice enough folks. They’re only staying for the night and are leaving this morning.”
“Good thing we got here early then.”
She glanced past him, to where Jeb stood. “See you brought a copper with you. Should I be worried?”
Heath’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter at her old-fashioned term, but he quickly assured her there wasn’t anything wrong. Not yet, anyway. If the Shacklefords turned out to be after Camilla, things might degenerate rapidly. Nobody was getting to his girl. Nobody.
He turned at the sound of footsteps on the stairs from the first floor, and spotted a man and woman coming down. Tall and lean, with longish hair the color of tar and eyes to match, Heath instantly realized this was the man Daisy described. His expression held a somber look, though his gaze took in everything around him, finally meeting Heath’s intent stare. An almost subtle stiffening of his body caused his step to falter before he resumed his pace down the stairs.
A step or two behind a young woman followed, obviously several years younger than her companion. Her eyes were red-rimmed, evidence she’d been crying. The blouse and jeans she wore appeared to have been slept in, wrinkled and disheveled.
Heath stood at the bottom of the stairs and held out his hand. “Mr. Shackleford?”
“Yeah?”
“My name’s Heath Boudreau. I’ve got a few questions, if you and your companion don’t mind.”
Shackleford’s gaze shot to Jeb, taking in the uniform and the weapon on his hip. “What’s this about?” His posture shifted, becoming defensive, and his hand unconsciously blocking the girl from advancing. It almost looked like he was protecting her, raising Heath’s curiosity.
“The car you’re driving has Louisiana plates, correct?”
Shackleford’s brow furrowed. “Yes, why?”
“Did you know that car has been reported stolen?”
“Oh, no!” This from the girl standing behind him. Heath wondered why she looked so panicked at the news.
“Sorry, I have no clue why it would be reported stolen. My cousin loaned us the car.”
Jeb pulled a notebook from his pocket. “What’s the cousin’s name, sir?”
Shackleford gave him a name, and Jeb nodded to Heath. “The last name matches the people who reported the vehicle stolen.”
“Why’d you need to borrow a car, Mr. Shackleford?”
He shot a worried glance to the woman. “Gail?”
“It’s my fault! We were supposed to take my car, but it broke down. We needed to leave right away. I borrowed Ronny’s car, so we could get out of Louisiana.” Tears began streaking down the woman’s cheeks, and Heath took a better look at her. Shoot, she was barely more than a teenager.
“Why’d you need to leave Louisiana? Did something happen?” The sensation in his gut told him these two didn’t have anything to do with Camilla or her shooting. If he had to guess, he’d say the girl was knocked up and they’d run away, eloping, to get away from parents who didn’t approve of her choice of baby daddy.
“How is this your business?” Shackleford folded his arms across his chest, his dark-eyed gaze boring into Heath with an intensity that sent chills down his spine. The guy looked to be in his mid to late twenties, far too old to be hanging with a barely legal girl, but this dude gave off a worrisome vibe. Too bad he couldn’t arrest somebody simply because of a lousy first impression. So far, he hadn’t done anything illegal—at least that he knew about.
“Because of the stolen car, Mr. Shackleford, you’ve gotten mixed up in the middle of an attempted murder investigation.”
“Murder?” Heath watched Shackleford swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing. ‘Gail and I don’t know anything about a murder! Look, things were lousy for her at home, so we decided to leave. That’s it.”
“Why’d you pick Shiloh Springs? We’re not exactly a top tourist destination or the place runaways head to as their first choice.” Jeb’s shoulder bumped Heath’s after he asked the question. He’d obviously come to the same conclusion Heath had: these idiots weren’t the people after Camilla.
Shackleford shrugged, his face turning red. “I got too tired to keep driving. We pulled off the interstate and ended up here. This place is in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t think we’d draw any attention, stopping for one night.”
“Guess you shouldn’t be driving a stolen car then.” Heath turned to Jeb. “Check with the people who reported the car stolen and see how they want to handle things.”
“You got it.” Jeb walked several feet away and pulled out his cell.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to stick around for a little longer until we can get things settled regarding the car. You’d better hope they don’t want to press charges.”
Heath had forgotten about Miss Edna standing over by the reception desk until she walked across and hooked her arm through Gail’s, her hand patting the other girl’s arm softly.
“Why don’t we head to the kitchen, and I’ll make you and your fella some breakfast. Don’t worry, Heath’s good people, he’ll get to the bottom of this in no time.”
Heath watched them walk away, a bemused expression on the younger girl’s face. A smile tugged at his lips, but he quashed it, hoping Shackleford hadn’t noticed. Jeb hung up the phone and walked back over.
“The owner is willing to let things slide if Mr. Shackleford delivers the car back to him by the end of the day—undamaged.”
Heath’s hand came down hard on Shackleford’s shoulder, and he quipped, “Looks like it is your lucky day. You can easily make it to New Orleans by tonight. And keep your nose clean. I’ll ask my uncle to check in with you in a couple of weeks, make sure things are going okay with you and Gail.”
“Your uncle?”
Heath grinned a shark grin, making sure to put the fear of getting caught into the younger man. “Yeah. You might’ve heard of him. Gator Boudreau.”
All the blood rushed from Shackleford’s face, and he audibly gulped. “Guh…Gator Boudreau?”
“Uh-huh. I’m sure he won’t mind checking in, making sure everything’s copacetic.”
“Are we done here? I—we need to get on the road.” Shackleford picked up the bag he’d set down earlier and yelled toward the kitchen. “Gail, we don’t have time for breakfast, we’ve gotta leave now.”
Heath almost felt bad about scaring the dude, but figured the girl’s parents were probably worried sick. A little judicious threat might set them on the right path by the time they got back to New Orleans.
Gail sprinted through the opening from the kitchen, and within a minute they’d taken care of their bill and were in their car headed home. Miss Edna turned to face Heath, a huge grin on her wrinkled face.
“Well, that was fun.”
“Always a pleasure providing entertainment, Miss Edna.”
“Miss Edna,” Jeb took a step forward and touched her arm. “There was another car in the parking lot this morning, a rental from Houston. Did they check out?”
“Oh, dear, they left about fifteen minutes before y’all got here. Did you need to talk to them, too?”
“Can you give their contact information to Jeb, Miss Edna? I’ll get in touch with them later.” He bent down and brushed a light kiss against her cheek, his mind already focusing on Camilla. Too bad this tip hadn’t panned out. It would’ve been nice to take out some of his aggression on somebody.
“Sorry things didn’t work out, buddy. I’ll keep looking.” Jeb clapped him on the shoulder and headed down the front porch steps.
Frustrated, Heath followed, softly cursing the lousy turn of events, and wondering if he’d ever find the threat to Camilla.