Page 73 of Cursed
“What were you doing over there?”
“I found this place a few days ago. I saw boot prints on the log and on the ground. I figured someone had been over there. I wanted to know what they were hiding.”
“Well, this is Gascon’s property.”
“Right. And someone has been watching the house. I found a bunch of cigarette butts on the ground.”
“Where are they?”
“Unfortunately, I think Rivers knew I discovered them. So, he cleaned up after himself.”
She stepped away from the bank. “I’d like to go back to the house and change my torn clothing, if you don’t mind.”
Jarvis might have objected, but the rain that had been threatening began to fall, and she took off quickly through the trees.
Janet was standing on the back porch, anxiously following her progress across the lawn.
“What happened?” the housekeeper demanded, as she and the lawmen climbed the steps.
“Dwight Rivers was the killer. He was wearing gloves with animal claws. But he ended up in an alligator’s mouth,” she said, then added, “I’ll give you the whole story later.”
“Where’s Andre?” Janet asked.
Morgan paused in mid-stride, eyeing the men who had entered the kitchen and were listening with interest. Her throat constricted, but she managed to say, “I haven’t seen him.” Before Jarvis could say anything else, she added. “I’m going to take a shower and change. I’ll talk to you later.”
She saw his jaw muscles work and knew that he wanted to force her into an interview now.
“I need to get out of this bulletproof vest,” she added, then pulled off her jacket and tossed it over a chair. “You’ll want this for evidence,” she said. While she was in a reckless mood, she also pulled off her shirt in front of the goggling men. The Kevlar vest kept her modest. “And take the shirt too,” she said, before racing for the stairs. “When you find Rivers’ claws, you can match them to the scratch marks.”
In her room, she slammed the door, wondering what she was going to do now. She needed time to herself—time to get her story straight, since Dwight Rivers wasn’t going to contradict her.
She stared around, feeling disoriented, noting that Janet had come in while she was gone and made the bed. What did the housekeeper think about what had happened between her and Andre?
And why should she care, Morgan asked herself. It was a logic question, but she knew that she wanted Janet on her side.
That was the least of her problems at the moment. She’d come up here to think before she spoke to Jarvis. What was her story? What exactly had happened? She knew she wasn’t going to tell the sheriff that a big cat had come leaping to her rescue—like he cared about what happened to her. She wasn’t going to mention the jaguar. But deep down, she knew there was more to her reluctance to talk about the animal. She was struggling with something she wasn’t quite willing to face.
She grabbed clean clothing, then stepped into the bathroom and shucked off her muddy jeans and shoes, before taking her time under the hot water. Finally, when the water started to cool, she climbed out, and toweled off, and dressed before using the hair dryer.
As she stepped into the bedroom, her jaw fell open. She’d locked the door, but someone had opened it.
Dan Cassidy to be exact. He was sitting in one of the chairs by the window, his leg crossed to make a writing surface as he scrawled notes on a legal pad.
“You’ve got some guys downstairs chomping at the bit to quiz you,” he said mildly.
“You were taking a chance on my being dressed,” she answered.
“Nah. Not with Jarvis in the house.”
She charged across the room. When he stood, they embraced. “It’s good to see a friendly face,” she breathed. “Thank you for getting here so quickly.”
“It sounded like you needed help,” he answered in a matter-of-fact voice. Yet she could hear his friendship and concern beneath the surface. ‘You all right?”
“Yes.”
“Hang in there. It’s almost over.”
“I hope so. But … but …”
