Body on the Bayou Read Free

making them a wedding present, Mama. I’m painting their portrait. If Vanessa lives that long. I swear, I may kill her before I finish it.”
    “Watch your words, dear,” Gran’ said. “I’m guessing a cocktail is now in order.”
    “Not right now. I have to drive over to Bon Bon. But trust me, I’ll be hitting the bottle as soon as I get back.”
    Maggie marched out of the main house to the small shotgun house that she shared with her grandmother. Gopher tagged along with her. “I love them, I truly do,” she complained to the hound as she opened the creaky wooden door and followed the dog inside. “But honestly, sometimes I think my parents are so nice, it’s dangerous.” Gopher, distracted by some muffin crumbs he discovered on the floor, didn’t respond.
    Maggie went into her bedroom, pulled off her clothes, and threw them into the bathroom hamper. She took a quick shower and slipped into faded brown ankle boots, jeans, and a caramel sweater that brought out the orange in her hazel eyes. She grabbed a leather jacket and headed out of the house to her car.
    As the sun began its twilight descent over the Mississippi River, Maggie drove down a two-lane road into the historic center of Pelican. The town featured a village green surrounded by centuries-old brick buildings sporting lacy iron balconies. One of them housed two quaint shops, Bon Bon Sweets and Fais Dough Dough Patisserie. Both were owned by her cousin, Lia Tienne. Maggie was thrilled when Lia, widowed young, found love again with a Crozat guest—Kyle Bruner, who’d lost his wife in a tragic accident. Some Pelicaners believed in magic; some didn’t. But pretty much all agreed that Fate had a hand in uniting those two grieving souls.
    Maggie parked behind the shops and hopped out of the Falcon. She opened the car’s trunk, pulled out a small box, and walked into Bon Bon. The shop smelled of chocolate and salted caramel, a scent so delicious that Maggie felt she could bite into it. The walls boasted a display of paintings, vibrant contemporary renderings that celebrated Cajun Country’s lush landscape and rich architecture. Small, discreet signs next to each painting indicated its name, price, and the artist. All were by Magnolia Marie Crozat—Maggie.
    Lia and Kyle were behind the counter, huddled over what Maggie saw were interior design renderings for their new home. Kyle, a wealthy software engineer, had bought the Durand family homestead—Grove Hall. The couple planned to restore the run-down plantation, which suffered from years of neglect by Rufus Durand, who had enjoyed taunting concerned citizens like the Crozats with the plantation’s dilapidated condition.
    “Hi, sweetie,” Lia greeted her cousin. “Tell me you brought souvenir thimbles and spoons.”
    “Yes, I surrendered to kitsch.” Maggie, who’d channeled her artistry into a line of souvenirs, reached into the box and pulled out a thimble decorated with a colorful illustration of Doucet. “I’ve made them for ten of the local plantations. Same with the spoons. They may be cheesy, but they could also be big sellers.”
    “Exactly,” Lia enthused. “Visitors can collect them.” Lia opened the cash register and took out a check that she handed to Maggie. “Here’s the money for your mugs and mouse pads. I’m also putting together a box of candy for the family.”
    “Yum! Sample, please.” Lia tossed a chocolate rum truffle to her cousin. Maggie caught the truffle, popped it her mouth, and savored the marriage of tangy liquor and rich, bittersweet ganache. As she chewed on the sweet treat, she unpacked her box of souvenirs and began setting them out, moving them here or there to create a more interesting display.
    “Maggie, what do you think of these drawings?” Kyle brought over printouts of the future Grove Hall dining and living room. Each room was so stuffed with antique furniture and knickknacks that they seemed more museum than home to Maggie.
    “Truthfully?