Sunrise in a Garden Of Love and Evil by Barbara Monajem

Author:Barbara Monajem [Monajem, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Love Spell
Published: 2011-01-14T00:00:00+00:00

Gideon left the crew at the crime scene for his appointment, still in a cold rage directed mostly at himself. His desire for Ophelia simmered in some corner of his gut, stowed until the investigation was over and he could quell it properly. An appointment at the house directly across from hers didn't help, but since he would have to pass her place every day going home for the rest of his life, he might as well start getting used to it.

Her house was dark except for the porch light, and her driveway was empty, but a deserted pickup a quarter mile earlier told him Jabez was already in position. Nobody ever saw Jabez unless he wanted to be seen. Gideon dropped a hand in silent acknowledgment and gave thanks, not for the first time, for the Bayou Gavotte underworld. Separately, neither the cops nor the underworld could keep a handle on things. But with the underworld taking care of transgressions in the clubs and the cops handling the rest, they kept their kinky little tourist town safe. The murder rate for innocent people was at an astounding low.

Except for today. Not the blackmailer--better for everyone he was out of the way--but that poor girl in the staircase. Shit. But it's not my fault, he reminded himself. Yet his own appalling behavior was eating holes in his brain. Which he couldn't afford during a murder investigation.

When this is over, he told himself, I will regain my sanity. Maybe I will even recover that tiny bit of instinct that got me laid now and then. It won't get me Ophelia, but... Oh, hell. What was the goddamn use?

He parked behind Plato's old Chevy pickup and composed himself. Ophelia's neighbor waited in the doorway, drawn and desperately uneasy.

"I appreciate your agreeing to talk to me here, Officer O'Toole," he said. He stood back to let Gideon into a room full of baskets.

Really, really full. All over the walls, ovals and rounds mostly, with the occasional rectangle or square to break the monotony. Piles of baskets nested together, crammed against the ceiling, almost blocking the narrow entry to the bedroom hall. Delicate and intricate, thick and rustic, tall hampers, squat picnic baskets with hinged lids: every available surface was covered with baskets, except the kitchen table and one wooden chair. Tangles of green wisteria hung across the table, and beside them lay a yellow utility knife.

Plato tenderly removed a pile of baskets from the other kitchen chair and balanced them on the end of the counter. "Please sit down." He stood rigid, hands twining together, even when Gideon took a seat.

"Relax, Mr. Lavoie. I didn't come to give you a hard time."

"I can't afford to lose my job," Plato said, clasping and unclasping his hands. "Even in Bayou Gavotte, there are plenty of people who wouldn't be able to forgive my oddities. But I'm a good pharmacist. I don't make mistakes. I double-check everything. I'm scrupulously careful about contraindications. My oddities have no effect whatsoever on my performance at work.

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