I nodded. I was sure the CIA lab could find differences, but both Harrison and I had been trained to recognize features such as cheekbones and jawline and the shape of the forehead and how the eyes were centered. Basically, we had needed to be able to recognize people in disguise. Sometimes, our lives had depended on it.
Ronald asked for my phone and flipped back and forth between the pictures. “Definitely the same structure. Even the shape of the eyebrows is the same and the set point as well.” He handed the phone back to me. “When you’re dependent on makeup to achieve the look you want, you learn all about facial anatomy. If these two people aren’t related, I’d be shocked.”
“I agree,” Harrison said.
“So is this why you created all that drama at the hospital and rumpled my good wig?” Ronald asked. “Because I thought you took a picture of the girl on the boat.”
I shook my head. “Before we descend on this girl and her family, we have to be sure. Blanchet has a hair sample—”
Ronald covered his mouth with his hand. “You stole that girl’s hair, didn’t you?”
“Just a couple strands.”
“Was that her who screamed? It sounded like a horror movie.”
“She woke up after I took the hair. She was in REM state. I’m pretty sure she was having a nightmare.”
“My wig has been part of a theft and an assault. It’s really made the rounds.”
Harrison looked a little pained.
“See,” Gertie said, and pointed at him. “That look is why we don’t tell Carter things.”
“You could have just waited until she woke up and asked,” Harrison said. “Or asked her parents when we locate them.”
“Really? And would you willingly give samples of your minor daughter’s DNA just because she favors someone who went missing long before she was ever born?” I asked. “And since the missing woman claimed she had no family, that might include giving up family secrets in order to answer questions.”
Ida Belle nodded. “But if you have proof, then the cat’s out of the bag, and denial is a waste of time. It’s messy, but I would have made the same call. On the plus side, if it’s not a match, we can all write this off as one of those weird doppelgänger things that happen and worry about what kind of heat Nora’s cat will be packing at her party instead.”
“Nora’s cat is in heat?” Ronald asked. “Or Nora? Because the second sounds completely plausible if not somewhat daunting.”
“Packing heat,” Gertie said. “Didn’t you hear about her cat shooting a gun?”
Ronald looked at all of us, as if trying to determine if we were punking him. I was waiting for him to check for a television crew.
“It’s true,” Harrison said, chuckling. “Blanchet elected not to file charges against the cat, so there was no official police report, but it was a darn good story over lunch.”
Ronald sighed. “As if it wasn’t enough that the wildlife here is always trying to kill me, now I have to worry about the domesticated fare as well.”
“Maybe you could design a fashionable bulletproof vest,” Gertie suggested. “I’m getting Madonna cone bra vibes, especially given the extra storage capacity.”
“Hmmm.”
“So back to the case, how is Blanchet going to handle that DNA test?” Harrison asked.
“He’s not,” I said. “I’m going to use a friend of a friend and get it done.”
“Good. So what do you need from me?”
“I don’t need anything from anyone yet. I’ll get the DNA processed and then we’ll see what we see.”
“And if it’s not a match?” Gertie asked. “Are you really going to leave Blanchet hanging with no answers? It’s his one true love. We can’t just forget about it.”
I smiled. “You’re such a romantic, Gertie. But I will admit, I feel sorry for the guy. So no matter what this test turns up, I’ll probably still do some asking around. The original police reports would be a good starting point, but I think it’s best if Blanchet pulls them, given that he’s the one who made the connection.”
“And because you don’t want me in trouble,” Harrison said.
I nodded. “I’m afraid that target on my back is now built for two.”
CHAPTER FIVE
I was up early the next morning, ready to get going on the investigation. I placed a call to the Heberts first—my friends with a friend—and asked if they’d call in another favor from their contact at the DNA lab client who’d processed a test for me before. Little called back in a matter of minutes letting me know the whole thing was arranged and I was welcome to drop off the samples at any time. So the only thing I was waiting on was the other sample from Blanchet.
He'd already sent a text this morning asking if I wouldn’t mind picking him up from the hospital when they released him, which was fine by me. The sooner he got that sample, the sooner I could get this ball rolling. And once he got me that original police report, then I’d be able to see if anyone was still around Mudbug from back then that I could question.
The big one, of course, was identifying the girl, but that was Blanchet’s purview, and I knew he’d be on that the instant he walked out of the hospital. Harrison and Ida Belle were planning a run into the bayou again at first light, so if there was anything to be found on that end of things, she’d let me know. So unfortunately, after I finished my call with the Heberts, I was left with absolutely nothing to do and the energy to move mountains.
Story of an investigator’s life.
I made use of the free time by feeding Merlin and unloading the dishwasher and spent all that time wondering where Carter was and how things were going. My biggest concern was that the military hadn’t been up-front about the mission. I had personal experience with government agencies and their ‘need to know’ policies, and they were never favorable to the person who didn’t get to know.
My phone rang as I put the last dish away, and I saw Blanchet’s name come up on the display.
“You need to get down here and straighten this doctor out,” he said as soon as I answered.
“What’s wrong?”
“He won’t release me! That’s what’s wrong. My head is just fine. I’ve had worse cuts from a house cat. Hell, that cat yesterday almost shot us.”
“So why won’t he let you out?”
“He’ll let me out of the hospital, but he won’t release me to work. Says he has concerns about my heart. Some irregular rhythm BS he’s pushing. Wants to do more tests, and all that takes time. Time I don’t have.”
He sounded stressed enough to give himself a heart attack, so I grabbed my keys and wallet and headed for the door. “I’m on my way. Just hold tight and we’ll figure it out. Don’t go shooting people.”
“They took my gun when they admitted me. Communists.”
I made the drive to the hospital in record time—not Ida Belle record time, but fast for me and my Jeep. Blanchet had been moved to a regular room and was stomping around like a soldier going to war when I walked in.