Page 96 of Hiss and Make Up
Marc listened at the corner of the house. He couldn’t see anything around the truck except the bobbing of a small light source. Aside from the frogs singing to each other across the banks of the bayou, the sounds coming from the other side of the truck didn’t make sense.
Digging?
Why would Sierra or anyone else be digging out here in the middle of the night?
He crouched and inched around the truck. With his back resting against the front bumper, Marc listened again. No voices. Only digging. He leaned sideways and chanced a look around the truck.
He’d guessed right. Digging.
Marc snapped his head back and leaned against the bumper again.
He couldn’t have seen that. He must have been mistaken.
Marc craned his neck and peeked again. He crouched low and stared off into the night. Listening. Waiting for some new clue and trying to make sense of the image he’d just seen.
* * *
Sierra straightened and looked around. “You didn’t hear that?” she asked for the second time.
Lynette stabbed her shovelhead into the ground, resting against the handle while she wiped her forehead. “Just shut the hell up and dig already, so we can both get on with our lives.”
At first, Sierra had taken the shovel to buy herself some time. Digging alongside a delusional woman and prodding her to talk was the best option so far, but the deeper they dug, the more Sierra wondered what they would find. Or who.
How long had this been buried in Denise’s yard? Ten years? She couldn’t remember when Marc said they moved in or when Mr. Guidry went missing. Nor could she remember from her biology classes how long it took for a human body to decompose. She could guess how long a half-decomposed bird had been lying on the side of a road, but a half-rotted human body was much larger. And uglier.
Lynette had said she didn’t kill anyone. Technically, she hadn't outright denied it, but she’d laughed at the suggestion. Sierra wasn’t convinced. Not with this woman’s track record, two missing men, and the whole digging in the middle of the night thing.
Sierra had no idea what they were going to uncover. A skeleton? Something worse? There wasn’t much worse thanpartiallydecomposed flesh.
She threw down her shovel. “No.”
“No? We’re almost done. The quicker you help me, the quicker I’m out of your hair. For good.”
Sierra shook her head. “I’m not moving one more inch of dirt until you tell me what I’m about to find. I don’t want to be surprised. And I want thewholestory.”
Lynette rolled her eyes to the heavens. “Good Lord, what is it with you? Huh? Why do you have to snoop around in everything? Especially what’s none of your business.”
“None of my business?” Sierra’s fists trembled with rage as she clenched and unclenched them. “Look, lady, I’m the one who got called out here to deal with the snakes you planted. I’m the one who almost got blown up in Marc’s kitchen. And I’m the one who was out looking for Dale all night because no one has seen or heard from him for hours. Oh, and don’t forget,youhanded me a shovel to help dig up your dead husband. So don’t for one minute tell me this isn’t any of my business!”
Sierra sucked in a long, satisfying breath. She’d been holding back that tirade for a while. Thankfully she hadn’t blown up at Marc or Liz or some other innocent person who’d happened to be within striking distance, but Lynette definitely had it coming. And more.
“You’re right,” Lynette said. “I got you into this. Somehow. God knows if I’d have thought things through or had any ideayou’dget involved, I might have gone another route.” She shook her head. “Oh, who am I kidding? I should have taken a different route from the start.” She took a deep breath, centering herself before she continued. “It’s just…well, a woman will go to any lengths to protect her children.”
Sierra mock laughed. “Your data’s off on that one.”
Lynette aimed the flashlight at Sierra and examined her up and down. “No mama, huh? That explains a lot.”
“We’re not talking about me, so can we focus here? What were you protecting Chloe and Adrien from? If you were protecting them from their father, that’s justifiable homicide. Or something. Right? We can go to the police and clear this all up and they would understand and you could—”
“Good Lord, girl. Don’t you listen? I didn’t kill the man. Now shut up and keep up, or I swear to the Good Lord and Savior I will knock you over the head with this shovel, and you can spend the rest of the night beside your precious Dale.”
Sierra opened her mouth to snap back, but she shut it and nodded when she caught a glimpse of Lynette’s grip on the shovel. Husband-killer or not, the woman was not afraid to go to extremes to get what she wanted. Lynette stood in front of her like a threatened animal, and while Sierra didn’t have experience with irrational, shovel-wielding women, she’d been trained to handle desperate, aggressive animals.
“Sorry. Continue.”
“Thank you. Now, as I was saying, a woman will do anything to protect her children. A father will do the same. Or anyone with common sense and decency. You don’t have to be a mama or have one to know that. Didn’t your Daddy try to protect you from her? Somehow? Whatever way he could?”
Sierra had blocked out most of those memories. She’d loved her mom, but the woman was long gone. After her mom hadn't bothered to call on Christmas or Sierra’s birthday—no phone call, no belated card, nothing—her dad had taken down all the photos of her. He kept them in an album in case Sierra wanted them later, but he’d said they were too painful to see. He said she'd cut him open when she left, and seeing her on the walls had been like bleeding fresh again every night after work.
