Eden's Shadow by Jenna Ryan

Author:Jenna Ryan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2004-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

ARMAND SPENT THE BULK of those two days immersed in the Burgoyne case.

He put his father’s phone calls on hold and set his mind on his computer. He watched Eden from a distance and kicked himself again for his involvement in this. He sent the splintered syringe and substance samples for analysis, ran background checks on Lucille, Mary and Lisa and went after Robert Weir with a vengeance. He also checked out Maxwell Burgoyne from every conceivable angle, both on a personal and a professional level.

Finally, on the morning of the funeral, he gave in and drove to his father’s home which was much deeper in the swamp than Eden’s grandmother’s place.

J. C. LaMorte had been a large, powerful man in his prime. He’d played football in high school and might have turned pro if he hadn’t met Armand’s mother and fallen in love. He’d gone to work instead of college and done better than most in his position. Unfortunately his wife had died, and work in the area had declined. His job had grown increasingly difficult, so much so that his shoulders, once broad and sturdy, had begun to sag.

Today, he sat in his chair on the porch, puffing on a cigar he wasn’t supposed to smoke and poring over the photos in his favorite old album.

He knew Armand was there but didn’t look up from his pictures.

“She was a beauty, sure enough,” he said and ran a thick finger over his late wife’s face. “French on her mama’s side, Venezuelan on her pa’s. She shouldn’t have died so young. Shouldn’t have died at all, come to that. We were gonna go to South America when we retired. Had it all planned. Just needed to work hard and put money away every year. But you and I both know those plans would’ve blown up on us even if she hadn’t passed on.”

Armand hoisted himself onto the weathered porch rail. “I know you hold a grudge better than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Not a grudge. When it’s about friends and family, it’s loyalty. You need to learn the difference if you haven’t already. You planning to be at the reading tonight?”

Armand’s gaze strayed to the murky bayou water. “I told you I would.”

“Wish I could go, too.”

“Why? So you can drink a toast to his death?”

“Murder,” his father corrected. “Be clear on that point, boy. Everything’s riding on you keeping what needs doing in the forefront of your mind.” He stabbed the air with his cigar. “Remember, as paybacks go, this is top of the heap.” He puffed again and turned to the next page in his album. “What’s eating at you, anyway? Lots of lies have been told in that police department over the years. What’ll a few more hurt?”

“Maybe I’m still not comfortable with the idea of murder.”

His father waved him off. “I told you before, no one’s gonna shed tears over Maxwell Burgoyne’s being gone. Unless…” He sent his son a shrewd look. “I hope you’re not developing any untoward feelings here.

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