Page 95 of Hiss and Make Up
Sierra fought the sudden and overwhelming urge to rush the woman and beat her with her own flashlight.
Lynette’s shoulders dropped and a deep frown settled on her face. “Not you again.”
Sierra opened her mouth to say something snotty but stopped short and pointed at the shovel. “Did you—” Her hand shot up to cover her mouth and catch the scream threatening to escape.
Lynette’s brow furrowed, and she followed Sierra’s gaze to the shovel. “Good God, no! Your precious Dale is fine, and I’m not out here to bury him if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Sierra released a sigh of relief, but an empty pit remained in her stomach. “Then where is he? Why do you have his truck? And what the hell are you doing in Denise’s back yard with a shovel?”
The woman frowned at her again. “You sure do ask a lot of questions for someone who doesn’t belong out here either.”
“I belong here more than you do, so start talking, lady. Or I swear I’m calling the cops right now.” The woman couldn’t know she didn’t have a phone, and Sierra would use that to her advantage for as long as she could.
Lynette sighed and rolled her eyes upward. "Dale's fine. Out of the way, but fine."
Sierra exhaled. Dale was safe. For now.
But that wasn’t enough.
This woman wasn’t taking one step off the property until Sierra got answers. And she sure as hell wasn’t getting away with everything she’d done. Sierra hadn’t tracked this woman through two parishes to let her slink off. Plus, they still had to settle up on that little incident where the woman tried to blow up Marc's house with Sierra still in it.
"So if you aren't burying Dale, what are you doing out here in the middle of the night with a shovel?"
"Not burying a body, honey.” She flashed a saccharine smile. “Digging one up."
Sierra couldn’t even feign shock at this point. "Your husband.”
"Smart girl." Lynette nodded and frowned like Sierra had ruined her surprise. She held out the hand with the shovel. "Here, take this one. I saw another one in the back of the shed.”
Sierra stared at the outstretched garden tool with her mouth hanging open.
"Not so smart after all?” Lynette Guidry’s frown flipped as an expression of amusement replaced her frustration. "Oh, bless your heart! You think I killed him, don't you? You think I killed him, and I'm out here digging him up to cover my so-called crime. Oh, that is the best thing I've heard in years!"
Confused, Sierra took the outstretched shovel. Mrs. Guidry disappeared inside the shed with the flashlight, and the yard darkened.
Sierra stood frozen in place. She had no idea what she was supposed to do with the shovel. Dig up a dead man? All Sierra wanted to do with it was take out the woman who had handed it to her, but not until she got the whole story.
Lynette returned with a second shovel. "Let's get this over with.” She walked past Sierra to a spot near Dale's truck.
With no better plan and a butt load of unanswered questions, Sierra followed.
24
Marc pointed ahead at the red Forerunner. “Park behind it.”
Chloe shut off her lights and cut the engine, coasting to a quiet stop along the curb behind Sierra’s vehicle. For the second time that night, Marc wondered how this could be the same Chloe he’d written off from the moment he’d met her. In his defense, she never stood a chance in his eyes, coming on the heels of his Sierra heartbreak. But even when all she’d wanted was to sit with him on the bus and talk about school, he'd brushed her off.
Yet there she was, hopping bushes and sneaking up on a suspect. Helping him.
Once they found Sierra, he’d have to apologize to Chloe for what a jerk he’d been for so many years. If he could forgive her for hiding information while they’d been hunting the person terrorizing his family.
He still couldn’t believe it had been Lynette Guidry all along.
The dog barked in the back yard, and relief washed over Marc. If Puck and the Forerunner were here, Sierra couldn’t be far away.
Across the field, a dim, bouncing light caught his attention near the back of Denise’s property. They exited the car and hurried down the road. Marc considered telling Chloe to stay in the car, but she’d already come this far with him. If Sierra had taught him anything, it was that ordering a woman to stay out of danger wouldn’t get him very far. Besides, if that light near the back of the house was Mrs. Guidry, having Chloe with him might come in handy.
They tiptoed along the side of the house, still reeking of smoke, to the end of a beat-up old pickup truck. Chloe pointed at a spot where she could see and hear around the corner, but also where she’d be safe.
