Lottie gave her a grateful look. “I know you’re probably right, but guilt is a powerful thing. Almost as powerful as love.”
“I agree with Gertie,” I said. “I’ve spent most of my life working with men like Andy. Some might even accuse me of being the same way. You did the best thing for him at the time. But now maybe we can get some answers. Do you think there’s anyone who would know more about the Brethren?”
She rubbed the side of her jaw as she considered. “Might be. There was a hermit—lived off Chapel Bayou just north of here. Can’t say where exactly. I haven’t seen him in years and he wasn’t young back then, but he might still be around. He probably knew these bayous better than the tide, and I saw him talking to one of the Brethren at the dock behind the General Store one day.”
I nodded. It wasn’t much—in fact, it was practically nothing—but at least we had something to pursue tomorrow. I thanked Lottie for the information and gave her my card in case she remembered anything else. She gave me a big hug and said she was going to pray for the girl and for me, so I’d get answers for everyone.
We were halfway back to Sinful when my phone rang. It was the lab tech.
“Ms. Redding. I’ve got the results of your test. There’s a 25 percent match between the two samples. That usually indicates a twice-removed relationship. So a cousin or grandchild or great-niece or -nephew.”
“But they’re definitely related.”
“Without a doubt.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
We headed straight for Carter’s house when we got to Sinful, and I was relieved to see Blanchet’s truck in the driveway. At least he’d done as promised and was staying put. Granted, it had only been a couple hours, but I knew all too well how hard it was to sit on your hands when you had a personal stake in things. He must have heard us pull up because he had the front door open before we even made it to the porch. I could tell by the expectant look as he waved us back to the kitchen that he was about to burst from wanting answers.
“I’m going to owe Carter a new rug in the living room, I’ve been pacing so much,” he said. “Do you ladies want anything to drink? I haven’t even checked stock, but Fortune probably knows it as well as Carter.”
Since we were all still full from Lottie’s tea and excellent cookies, we declined, then Blanchet asked, “Do you have news?”
“Yes, and you should probably sit. You can pace later.”
He nodded and walked over to the refrigerator and took a bottle of whiskey down, then grabbed a tumbler. He pulled out a chair and sat across from me, poured a shot, and then looked straight at me.
“Hit me with it.”
“The DNA test was a match.”
He’d poured the whiskey for just this reason, but apparently, taking a shot was far too passive for such a huge statement. He jumped up from his chair, sending it tumbling over backward, and let out a choice few expletives as he went. Then he paced the kitchen, which was more like a stomping-mad march, so his comment about Carter’s living room rug made sense. Finally, he stopped at the table and righted the chair, then ran one hand through his hair and looked at me.
“I knew it. I know you weren’t sure I was right, but you took my word and moved forward with it anyway. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. Most people wouldn’t have.”
“Carter speaks highly of you. He doesn’t of most people. And yeah, I had some doubts but only because I was afraid emotion could be influencing you to see more than what was there. But that was before you showed me your picture. You weren’t imagining the similarities. Not even by a tiny bit. And you were right. It was a 25 percent match. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what that implies.”
He nodded and sat down again, then grabbed the tumbler and tossed back the shot of whiskey. “I knew it. I knew it in my bones and my heart but hearing it is still stunning on some level.”
“I’ll bet. We also spoke to Lottie Pendarvis. I showed her the picture I took in the hospital and she was shocked as well. She said if she hadn’t known when the picture was taken, she would have assumed it was Lara.”
His eyebrows went up. “You talked to Lottie already? You definitely get right on with things, don’t you?”
“Unanswered questions make me itchy, and when they involve the safety of a child, they make me feel like I rolled around in poison ivy.”
“I did that once,” Gertie said. “Not on purpose, of course, but you know how things happen.”
Blanchet smiled. “I had some concerns when Carter described the three of you. That whole cat-toting-a-gun thing didn’t help negate any of his warnings, either. But he also said you’re honest, loyal, and direct, and that if a person ever needed someone they could count on, they couldn’t do better than the three of you. I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate what you’re doing. Especially now that I’ve been cut out of things by that aaa—butthead Herpes.”
Gertie chuckled. “Herpes. That makes me laugh every time I hear it.”
“It’s the only legal way I can punch him, so to speak. So you had a visit with Lottie. What was your impression of her as a witness?”
“Solid, honest, reliable,” I said. “And her observation and listening skills are stellar. So is her ability to draw conclusions from both.”
I told him about Maya’s clothes when she arrived versus what she sewed after arrival and the other ‘off’ things that Lottie had noticed. He remained silent the entire time I talked, but I could tell by the way his jaw flexed that he was getting worked up again. When I finished, he slammed his hand on the table.
“Why didn’t she tell me all of that? I could have been out in the bayous looking!”
“And that’s exactly why she didn’t tell you. Because she was afraid you would have wasted your life in those bayous finding nothing, or worse, finding something and putting you all at bigger risk. I don’t know for sure what circumstances drove Maya into Mudbug, but I think Lottie is right in her assessment. She was running from something. And if she made the decision to return to that something, then you showing up wouldn’t have been good for either of you or for Lara.”
He threw his hands up. “I would have protected her. Why didn’t she believe that? I must not have—”
“Don’t do that,” Ida Belle interrupted. “Don’t start thinking that there was something you could have done differently that would have changed the situation. People always said the Brethren were a cult. If that’s the case, then you know if they didn’t want to let her go, they had all kinds of ways to get her back and make her stay. If you’d headed out into those bayous looking for her, that’s where they’d have buried you.”
He slumped back in his chair and blew out a breath. “I know. I know. I worked a case involving a cult once. I’ve read the studies, seen the worst of them play out on the five o’clock news. I get it, but if it meant leveling the place, I would have done it for her.”
“Maybe she didn’t want you taking those risks,” I said quietly. “I have a tiny lead—I’m talking thinner than a hair—that might be able to help us locate the Brethren. And I was all set to head out tomorrow, but before I do that, I have to ask you, given what we now know and also what we suspect, do you still want to pursue this?”