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An hour later she was in the shop waiting for customers to come in. While she waited, she worried about the man she loved. She didn’t like the idea of him being out and about where the killer might be. He might ask the wrong question to the wrong person.
What was to stop the perpetrator from murdering him? That would then leave her vulnerable and easy to kill. But that wasn’t the worst thing. If Jacque got killed, she would be responsible and would mourn his death for the rest of her life. Her heart cringed at the very thought of losing him.
He’d been living a peaceful, solitary life before she’d gotten him involved in all this. She would never forgive herself if something bad happened to him.
The hours at the shop passed quickly as she was busy for most of the day. At two o’clock, she breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of his car pulled against the curb.
“Cynthia, my ride is here, so I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said to the woman who had arrived minutes before.
“Okay, see you tomorrow, Monique,” she answered and then Monique left the shop and slid into Jacque’s car.
“Well, you don’t look any worse for the wear,” she said as she eyed him.
“Did you expect me to show up here with a missing arm or leg after fighting with the killer in the swamp?” he asked in obvious amusement.
“No, that’s the way I would expect you to show up after fighting with a big gator in the swamp,” she replied. “But it’s not funny, Jacque, I’ve been worried about you all day.”
His smile faded, and he put the car into gear. “There’s no need to worry about me, Monique. I can take care of myself.”
He roared away from the curb. “Well, excuse me for worrying about somebody I consider my best friend,” she replied.
He cast her a half smile. “Okay, I forgive you. How was work?”
“Good. It was a fairly busy day, and the time flew by.”
“What about your ribs? How do they feel?”
“They’re still sore, but the pain is mostly manageable now. So dare I ask, how did your day go?” she asked.
“I had a pretty good day. I did walk around the swamp a bit. I visited for a little while with George and Louis. I looked around for Bill, but he must work at the café today.”
“Did you get any helpful information or strange feelings from them?” she asked.
“No, not really. As gator-hunters both George and Louis would have guns, but I don’t know if Bill owns a gun or not. As a busboy at the café, he would really have no need to own one.”
“But most people who live in the swamp do have guns.” She released a deep sigh. “Maybe Daniel will come up with something,” she said hopefully.
They fell silent for the rest of the drive home. Once they reached the shanty, she went into her bedroom to change out of the attractive black-and-white dress she’d worn to work. Instead, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a dark green T-shirt. She then went back into the living room where Jacque was seated in his chair.
“How about I make dinner for you tonight?” she suggested. “You’re always cooking for me, so it’s way past my turn to cook for you.”
“Well, that sounds great to me. Feel free to use whatever is in the cooler and my pantry,” he replied. “And I’ll just sit here and relax.”
“Then I’ll head into the kitchen and get busy.” After she got out the cookstove and he went out to start the generator, she found three chicken legs and three thighs in the cooler that she decided to fry up.
It was about an hour later when she had everything ready to serve. The chicken had fried up nice and crispy, and she’d made a ranch macaroni salad that she’d found in the pantry. There was also corn and bread and butter. They small-talked through the meal.
This is what it would be like to be married to him, she thought. They would share the events of their days and would make and eat their meals together. Then they would go to bed together where they would make love and then she would fall asleep in the warmth of his embrace. She wanted that. Oh, she wished for it so badly.
It was around five thirty when the kitchen was clean and they returned to the living room. Her love for him was so full in her chest, it ached.
He had told her many stories about his previous work as a police officer. He’d also shared with her his childhood antics. There seemed to be only one subject they hadn’t really talked about in depth.
“Jacque, tell me about your wife,” she asked.
He looked up at her. His green eyes were dark, and his features were taut with a sudden tension. “I’ll tell you all you need to know about my wife and my four-year-old daughter. I killed them. I killed them both, and that’s what ended my marriage.”
Jacque saw the horrifying shock on Monique’s features. Hell, he had shocked himself by blurting out the words. He’d never spoken about what had happened to Lauren and Lily. Even now thoughts of them caused an enormous pressure in the center of his chest.
