Page 58

“That’s utterly ridiculous,” Nola scoffed. “Can’t you see her grief has obviously muddied her brain?”

“I told you to shut up,” Jacque said. “Monique, honey, do you have your phone?” In his peripheral vision, he saw her move to the sofa and grab her purse. “Call Daniel. Tell him to hurry before I kill Nola.”

“I’m an innocent woman,” Nola cried. “I didn’t do anything but try to protect myself.”

Jacque kept his gun pointed at her while Monique made the call. The wound in his back burned, and chest pain radiated out to his shoulder, making it difficult for him to draw a deep breath. However, he wasn’t concerned about himself. He was worried about Monique. How many times had Nola stabbed or cut her?

After she made the call to the police, she collapsed, still weeping softly, in a chair by the sofa while he held Nola captive on the floor.

Monique’s eyes were now closed, and she’d gone silent, making Jacque’s worry about her rise higher. “Monique…you with me?” he asked.

Her eyes fluttered open. “I’m here.” She closed her eyes once again.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before he heard the sounds of sirens in the distance. And it wasn’t long after that when Daniel and four of his men came into the shanty.

Daniel took one look at the scene and then gazed at Jacque. “Somebody want to tell me what’s going on here?” he asked.

“Nola killed my mother,” Monique said as more tears once again filled her eyes. “She has Mama’s client book. It’s in the kitchen with her cookbooks. She confessed everything to me. She was going to blackmail the clients, but my mother refused to do that, so Nola killed her.”

“Jacque, put your gun away,” Daniel said. He reached down and yanked Nola to her feet.

Jacque put his gun back into his holster as Daniel handcuffed Nola.

“They have it all wrong,” Nola said desperately to anyone who might listen to her. “Monique has gone crazy. I would never harm a hair on Mystique’s head. I would never…”

“Shut up, Nola,” Jacque said once again. “We need an ambulance for Monique,” he said urgently to Daniel. “As you can see, she’s been hurt.”

“EMTs are coming,” Daniel replied. He turned and looked at Luke Madison, one of the officers who had come in with him. “Get Nola out of here,” he said. “Get her into a jail cell, and we’ll sort all this out later.”

By the time Nola was escorted out, the EMTs came in with a stretcher. It was only when Monique was carried out that Jacque felt a sense of relief.

“Johnny… Roger, keep this shanty locked down and under guard until I sort things out at the station,” Daniel instructed. “And get that client book into an evidence bag. Before you do that, make sure you take plenty of photographs showing where it’s located.” He turned back to Jacque. “Needless to say, I need you to come into the station so I can get a full picture of what happened here.”

“No problem,” Jacque replied. He turned to head out the door, hoping he had enough breath to walk to his car and drive into town.

“Dammit, Jacque, your whole back is bloody,” Daniel said in alarm.

“Yeah, Nola managed to stab me before I got her under control. I think she might have nicked my lung because I’m having a bit of trouble breathing,” he admitted.

Daniel released another string of curses. “The ambulance has already left. Can you make it to my car? I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

Minutes later, in the passenger seat of Daniel’s car, Jacque leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

It was over. It was finally all over. The killer had been identified and arrested, and Monique was no longer in any danger. It would be safe now for her to go back to her shanty, back to her own life. And he would return to his own life. It was what was best for both of them.

Eventually she would forget that she’d thought herself in love with him. She would find a man who could love her without reservation, and he’d go back to his life as a loner.

He just didn’t know why these thoughts made it even more difficult for him to breathe.

Chapter Thirteen

Monique was taken directly into the emergency room where Dr. Harmon treated her for her wounds. She received eight stitches for a slice in her arm, although no stitches were required for the wound on her chest which had just been a glancing swipe of the knife. Dr. Harmon was confident it would heal up nicely on its own.

What wouldn’t heal up for a very long time to come was the utter devastation of Nola’s betrayal and her killing Mystique. Monique couldn’t even begin to understand that kind of evil, and it made her sick to think about.

“I think that does it,” Dr. Harmon said as he finished bandaging the chest wound. “Keep antibiotic cream on it and keep it covered for the next couple of days. If it gets red or looks like it’s getting infected, come back in to see me immediately.”

“I will and thank you, Dr. Harmon,” she replied.