The Secret of Cypriere Bayou. Jana DeLeon

about as well as anyone did. Well enough to know that John wouldn’t bail on the investigation without a really good reason—like a lead that the police didn’t have the authority to pursue.

      “Not much. Harrison was just here and said they found a store clerk about twenty miles outside of New Orleans on I-10 who remembers your sister filling up there five days ago.”

      John felt his pulse quicken. He’d driven past that filling station on the way to laMalediction. Rachel could have been pursuing another house in the same direction, but there was no mention of another house on her calendar until weeks later. At least it was something. “Is the filling station guy certain it was Rachel?”

      “Yeah. I got the impression he liked what he saw. Described her and her car pretty well and seemed certain when Harrison showed him the picture.”

      “But no indication of where she was going?”

      The captain hesitated. “He says she asked about Cypriere.”

      “Damn! I knew it. Now, are you going to get a warrant?”

      “I hung up with the district attorney right before you called. It’s thin, probably not enough for a warrant, but he’s going to ask one of the judges for a favor given this is a cop’s family. The judge has a cousin who went missing twenty years ago and was never found. The D.A. thinks he’ll be sympathetic.”

      “How soon can we get access?” If he didn’t have to hide, he could flood the house and grounds with men and equipment. No sneaking around and making excuses. No more hiding behind a stepladder or a chain saw.

      “The judge he thinks will give the warrant is out of town for two days.”

      “You’ve got to be kidding me! Tell him to get another judge.”

      “There isn’t another judge who’s willing to put his neck out. The D.A.’s already asked around on this and been told no. There’s entirely too many things that could have happened to Rachel between that filling station and wherever she was headed. Unless someone can put her in Cypriere, then none of the other judges are willing to risk it.”

      “I don’t have to tell you how much time has passed.”

      “No, you don’t. I don’t like it any more than you do, but I have to tell you John that if you do anything to risk this investigation, it will not be good for your career. Do not go near that property until we have a warrant. Are we clear?”

      “Crystal.”

      “I mean it, Landry. Do not set foot in Cypriere.”

      “No problem.” John closed the phone. He hadn’t really lied. He had no intention of setting foot in Cypriere, the town. If his sister was going to be found, he had a feeling it would be at laMalediction.

      He tucked the phone into his pocket and headed downstairs. There had been no sign of Rachel on the second floor, so he’d save the attic until last. The basement was his next destination and he’d seen an access door in the kitchen. He hurried into the kitchen and almost collided with Olivia.

      A camera slipped in her hands, and she clutched it to keep from dropping it. He grabbed her shoulders to steady both of them. “Sorry. I keep forgetting there’s someone else here.” He looked down at the camera and blinked. “Nice camera.”

      Olivia frowned. “Yeah, it is. I found it in the cabinet when I was putting up my supplies. I thought maybe it was yours. I was coming to ask.”

      John’s pulse began to race. He’d bought that exact model for his sister for Christmas. “No, but maybe the old caretaker kept it here to take pictures for Wheeler.”

      Olivia shrugged and handed him the camera. “Maybe so. Guess you’ll need it then. I’d start with that ceiling upstairs if I were you. It didn’t come down by itself. If there’s a leak somewhere it can get way worse for you.”

      John took the camera and turned it on, pleased that the batteries were good. “You’re absolutely right. I think I’ll do that now.” He left the kitchen, studying the display on the camera. Twenty-two pictures stored.

      Maybe one of them would give him a clue to finding Rachel.