Maggie wished that she could argue her cousin’s point, but she couldn’t. Kyle was the PPD’s primary suspect, and Maggie blamed herself. If she’d never seen that picture, if she’d never confronted Kyle about it, she wouldn’t be sitting on a cold, hard bench comforting Lia as she was about to lose another love, this time to the brutal Louisiana penal system. “This is all my fault.”

“No it’s not. Kyle wanted to go to the police right away and share his connection with that woman, but I begged him not to. And now everything just looks worse because he withheld information. It’s my fault if he goes to jail.”

“If it makes you feel any better, there’s a real good chance you could go to jail with him,” a male voice said.

The women looked up to see Rufus Durand looming over them. Occasionally, Rufus transformed from a lazy sack of cow manure into a genuinely dark presence. This was one of those times. “You withheld evidence,” he told Lia, his tone hard and angry. “That’s a crime. A jailable crime.”

“There’s no such word as ‘jailable,’” Maggie blurted without thinking.

“Lock this one up for contempt,” Rufus told Artie, who looked confused.

“I’m sorry,” Maggie said. “That just came out.”

“Cuff her,” Rufus ordered Artie, who shrugged and came around the entry desk, cuffs in hand.

“Oh, come on.” Maggie gave the officer a look. “Artie, really?”

“You wanna add resisting arrest to the charges?” Rufus asked.

Maggie knew by his tone that Rufus was serious. She shot him a venomous look and placed her hands behind her back. Just as Artie was about to slap handcuffs on her, Bo appeared from the hallway. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Your girlfriend here has been mouthing off to law enforcement,” Ru said.

“I’m not his girlfriend, and if I offended law enforcement in any way, I am truly sorry.” Keeping her apology generic and not specific to Rufus somehow made the whole nauseating business more bearable for Maggie. She could see in Bo’s eyes how much he despised his cousin and admired him for keeping his tone polite when he spoke.

“She apologized, Ru. You really want to waste your time on this? That’s giving her the power, man.”

Ru contemplated this new angle and then nodded curtly to Artie. “Let her go. But take this as a warning, Magnolia. You better show me and my boys respect every time you see us or you’ll be making your home in the cell next to Kyle Bruner.”

“He’s in jail?” Lia cried out.

“I’m sorry, Lia,” Bo said. “Between the strong circumstantial evidence and the fact that he has no alibi, we had enough to charge him with first-degree murder.”

Lia grew so pale that Maggie was afraid she might faint. “He needs a lawyer.”

“He has one. I recommended Quentin MacIlhoney. He’s on his way down from Baton Rouge. He’s one of the best in the state.”

“Hey, whose side are you on?” Rufus demanded.

“I’m on the side of what’s fair, Cousin. That’s it.”

“Can I see him?” Lia asked. “Please, even just for a minute?”

Bo shook his head. “Look, the most important thing he needs to do right now is to meet with his lawyer. Why don’t you two grab some coffee and come back in an hour? MacIlhoney should be here by then.”

Maggie held a hand out to Lia. “Coffee nuthin’. We’re going to Junie’s. Come on.”

Lia took Maggie’s hand and allowed her cousin to lead her out of the police station. The women climbed into the Falcon and drove to Junie’s.

“I was right,” Lia said, her voice dull. “The police are going to stop looking for other suspects and just lay this on Kyle.”

“I can’t argue with you. But what I can say is that they would really need to find some actual evidence to get him convicted of first-degree murder. And if he didn’t do it, there won’t be any.”

“‘If.’ You said ‘if.’ Even you think he might have done it.”

“You’re right. My bad. What we need to do is focus on other suspects. If you have faith in him, I do too. And he certainly scored points by turning himself in.”

*

Since it was Friday night, the New Orleans crowd had come upriver for a little local color, and it took longer than usual to find a parking space. Maggie and Lia walked into Junie’s just as Gaynell and the Gator Girls were ending a set, and they were jostled by a throng of people abandoning the dance floor for the bar. But when JJ saw them, he shooed away a too-cool-for-school city couple and claimed their stools for the women. JJ was clad in an elegant sleeveless black linen caftan over white slacks. But even with the ceiling fans going full blast, the place was sticky with heat, and JJ’s mascara dripped down from the corners of his eyes, giving him the look of a mournful clown.

“What can I get for my two favorite dollies?” he asked Maggie and Lia.

“Two Jim Beams, neat.”

JJ eyed them curiously. “It’s a hard liquor night, huh? Something must be up. Talk to me.”

Before either woman could say anything, Gaynell joined them at the bar. Her Zachary Richard concert T-shirt was so drenched with perspiration that she looked like she’d run through a sprinkler, but she had the afterglow that came with a great performance.

“Hey,” she greeted the others, who responded in kind.

“Dolly, I order you to stop being so good,” JJ mock-scolded Gaynell as he pulled her a beer from the tap. “I do not want to see you lured away from me to some hot club in New Orleans.” He turned to Maggie and Lia. “Now, back to you two.”

“Kyle . . .” Lia stopped, too emotional to continue.

“PPD arrested him for Beverly Clabber’s murder,” Maggie said, stepping in for her cousin. The others reacted with shock. “We’re sure he didn’t do it,” she continued, emphasizing the “we” for Lia’s sake, “but it turns out he did have an incriminating history with Mrs. Clabber.”

Maggie brought JJ and Gaynell up to speed on Kyle and then started listing other potential suspects. “Of anyone local, Gran’ really had the most reason to kill off Beverly/Francine, but Bo agreed that we can basically rule her out. The Georgia boys are up to something, but I haven’t figured out what yet. At first I thought there was something hinky about Suzy, but turns out she’s okay. But her fellow board member, Debbie Stern, is planning a coup d’ Cutie, so covering that up gives her a motive. Then there are the Butlers, who spend way too much time in their room for a couple on a vacation. Nobody has that much sex.”

“Except maybe a couple that’s hot for each other and is on vacation,” Gaynell said with an impish smile. Maggie snorted dismissively.

“Oooh, jealous much?” JJ teased her.

“Uh, noooo.” The others cast skeptical looks at Maggie, and she caved. “Okay, fine, a little. Anyway, back to suspects. There’s also whoever’s been digging for treasure. I’m sure it’s one of our guests, but which one I don’t know. Could be the Butlers, the Rykers, even the Georgia boys. If they did actually find something, covering that up gives them a motive.”

“Hmm,” JJ said as he dabbed his shiny forehead with a cocktail napkin. “First off, you need to find out what those college kids are doing and who’s diggin’ up the pea patch.”

“Believe me, I’ve tried. I took over housekeeping to do some snooping, but it’s hard, because I actually do have to clean, which eats up a lot of time. Curse my parents for maintaining such a high standard.”

“I’ll help,” Gaynell volunteered, much to Maggie’s surprise.

“Really?”

“Sure. It’ll make cleaning and snooping go faster.”

“If you’re sure . . .”

“I am. I used to help my Gran’ clean the Cavalier Motel off I-10, so I pretty much know the drill.”

“That makes one of us,” Maggie smiled at Gaynell. “Okay then, thanks.”

Lia checked her phone. “It’s been almost an hour. We should go back. Hopefully the lawyer has gotten there by now.”

After confirming a meeting time with Gaynell and arguing with JJ, who refused to accept money for their drinks, Maggie and Lia drove back to the police station. There was a new car in the parking lot—a bright purple Bentley with a vanity plate that read, “LWYR UP.”