Mardi Gras Murder by Leslie Langtry

Author:Leslie Langtry [Langtry, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romantic suspense, comedy, humor, dark humor, amateur sleuths, ci
Publisher: Gemma Halliday Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"You have to tell me who Seraphine and Gustave sold out," I demanded. "No more games. Whoever it is may be the killer. And Gustave could be in danger." I paused.

Seraphine and Gustave were traitors. Oh sure, they gave up the Russians, but only to save their own skins. I didn't like traitors, and nothing they did after that, no matter how saintly, would make me trust them.

"I still think Gustave is a suspect," I added. "He could've killed her to keep her from revealing who they really are."

I thought about what Maria said about Gustave wanting a divorce and Seraphine refusing. But then, Seraphine asked me to help her get out of here. She didn't say both of them. Was she already afraid of Gustave? Or was she afraid of one of the people she'd ratted out to the Russians?

Riley shook his head. "I can't tell you who they are. Langley only told me so much. But they said it was a couple and a single person."

"It could be anyone," I thought out loud. "Tib, Clara Sue, Beth Ann, those twins, the McQuistons, the Miklauses, or people I haven't made yet."

Riley nodded.

"What about Clara Sue? How does your late squeeze fall into the picture with the Kents?"

He shrugged. "She only worked in Central and South America. There's no connection that I can think of." He moved toward the door. "I'd better go. Beth Ann is waiting for me, and I've been up here too long."

The door swung open, and Ava stood in the doorway, holding a sock. "Why is there a sock on your doorknob?"

Riley danced out of my reach and grabbed the sock. "Thanks Ava. I was looking all over for that."

I could've killed him.

Kelly appeared in the doorway, right eyebrow raised. "You and Riley, eh?"

"How would you like to take over the agency when he's dead?" I asked.

"Yes please!" She smiled. "Want to help me get the girls in bed?"

The moment we entered the room, the girls all took the pieces of paper they were working on and shoved them under one of the beds. I was too worried to wonder what they were up to. My mind was elsewhere as I stood over them as they brushed their teeth. Even after lights out, I was standing in the hallway for a long time, staring into space.

This puzzle was mutating. Seraphine was dead either at the hand of her husband, who may have known she wanted to leave, or at the hand of someone she'd betrayed years ago. Or she was killed by the Russians, who had dire plans for this place.

I thought about the letter, pulled it from my pocket, and re-read it, but I still had no idea who it was from or to, for that matter. Through various vagaries, like most spy letters are, it implied that an attack on Who Dat was imminent in order to destroy all traitors.

Hopefully, this was some sort of hoax. If it wasn't, we were all in trouble.

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