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“Oh, honey…are you sure he isn’t in love with you?” Nola asked as she continued to hold Monique in her arms.

“P-positive. He told me.” Once again Monique attempted to gain control of herself.

“Well, the sad thing is these things happen,” Nola replied.

Monique sat up straighter and swiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry… I just… I needed to talk to someone,” she said.

“I’m glad you came here. You know you can always talk to me,” Nola replied sympathetically.

Monique wound up telling Nola most of her conversation with Jacque, although she didn’t tell Nola about the loss of Jacque’s wife and child. She knew Nola could be a bit of a gossip, and telling her about that would be a complete betrayal of Jacque’s privacy and trust.

Instead, what she spoke about was all the things that had made her fall in love with the handsome loner. She talked about carnival rides and dancing, about long talks and shared laughter. She told Nola about silly jokes and how safe he made her feel, not just physically but emotionally as well. When she finished, she was utterly depleted.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Nola said. “It would be nice if every woman who fell in love with a man would have that love returned tenfold. But sometimes it just doesn’t happen that way.”

Monique gazed at the woman who had been like a mother to her. “Why have you never married, Nola?”

“Sometimes a broken heart lasts a lifetime,” Nola said softly. Her eyes grew distant and hazy as she looked toward the front window. “I was thirty-three when I met the man of my dreams. His name was David, and he was from town and owned a construction company. I was positively crazy about him. He came here two or three nights a week, and we dated for about eight months. I thought for sure we’d eventually get married, and I’d move into town with him and live happily ever after.”

She released a deep sigh and looked back at Monique. “But he had bigger plans for himself. When he broke it off with me, he told me his future wasn’t in a small swampy town with a swamp woman. Two days after he broke up with me, he picked up and left Dark Waters, and I never heard from him again. I spent months hoping he’d come back for me, praying that he would realize he loved me and couldn’t live without me. But of course, that didn’t happen.”

She grabbed hold of one of Monique’s hands. “The whole experience soured me on love. I became a bitter woman and decided I would live the rest of my life alone. Don’t be like me, Monique. Don’t let this heartache close you off from finding another. You’re young and beautiful. There will be another man for you, one you’ll love and he’ll love you to distraction. You can still have a happily-ever-after ending with another man.”

“It’s hard to even think about another man right now,” Monique replied mournfully.

“Give it time, honey. Like I said, you’re young and have your whole life in front of you,” Nola said. “Are you going to still remain at Jacque’s shanty?”

“Right now, I need to be there,” Monique said and then told Nola about being shot at. “I have to stay there for my own safety.”

“Good luck navigating that with the way you feel about him,” Nola said sympathetically. She released Monique’s hand and stood. “Sorry, but right now I need to use the restroom. You just sit tight, and I’ll be right back.”

As Nola disappeared into the bathroom, Monique got up from the sofa. Her mouth was dry, and she needed something to drink. She knew that Nola often kept a pitcher of iced tea in her cooler.

Nola’s shanty had an actual room that served as the kitchen area. It contained a small table and four chairs, a bookcase filled with recipe books and a counter where the cooler sat next to a deep bin that was her sink.

Monique went into the room and walked directly over to the cooler. Sure enough, there was a pitcher of chilled tea inside. She pulled it out and set it on the counter and then opened one of the cabinets to grab a glass. Finally, she settled in one of the chairs at the table with some tea.

Talking to Nola had certainly been cathartic, but it had hardly solved anything. She was still in love with Jacque, and he still wasn’t in love with her. She would remain under his protective care, but there was no question that things were going to be awkward and different between them from now on.

In fact, it was probably time for her to head back there now. The only thing she could hope for was that Daniel would solve the crimes sooner rather than later, and she would be able to move back to her own shanty and somehow get over loving Jacque.

For a moment her gaze drifted over the many cookbooks Nola had lined up on the bookshelf next to the table. Nola was a great cook and had often made dinner for Mystique and her three daughters when the girls had been small.

Monique suddenly froze as her heartbeat accelerated with shock. There, tucked between two of the cookbooks, was a very familiar dark blue book.

Her mother’s client book.

For just a moment she couldn’t make sense of it being there. Nola? Nola had the book? Her brain struggled to make sense of it all. But that meant…oh God, that meant Nola had killed her mother. Nola had beaten Monique and tried to kill her?

She had to get out of here. She needed to tell Jacque. Daniel needed to know. The killer had been identified, and Monique’s head whirled with the sickening truth of it. She jerked up out of the chair and put her glass in the sink.

“Monique? Oh, here you are.” Nola came into the kitchen.

Act natural, a voice whispered inside Monique’s head. Don’t let her know that you saw the book. “I just came in to get a quick drink of tea.” She was grateful that her voice sounded completely normal despite the intense horror that bubbled up inside her.

“I see you found it okay,” Nola replied.

Monique forced a smile. “I did. You’ve always made the best sweet tea. And now it’s probably time I head back. If Jacque wakes up, he’ll worry that I’m gone.”