Read [Bayou Gavotte 03.0] Heart of Constantine for Free Online Page B

lab—”
    “No,” Marguerite said.
    “This doesn’t prove he didn’t drug you or have you drugged, and it doesn’t prove he didn’t intend to rape you. Or murder you.
Sacrifice
you.” Lavonia’s nostrils flared. “Are you
listening
, Marguerite?”
    “It was almost dawn,” Marguerite said. “If he wanted to kill me, he had plenty of opportunity during the night. In fact, maybe it was Constantine’s presence on the mounds that stopped whoever really did want to light that fire from doing whatever… he had planned.”
    Lavonia pounced on the catch in Marguerite’s voice. “You
are
scared.”
    “Of course I’m scared, but not of Constantine!” Not really.
    Her friend glowered. “What happened to all the paraphernalia you described? I suppose, in your dippy fan-girl state of mind, you let him take it away.”
    “He didn’t have a vehicle with him,” Marguerite said. “It’s in my car.”
    The dense warmth of a Louisiana summer morning greeted them outdoors. Marguerite shed the throw and sipped her coffee, and the shaking subsided to the merest quiver in her gut. Lavonia gave the strange loot a once-over. “The cup looks vaguely familiar, but for all I know, they sellthem at Walmart. The bowl, not at all.” She took out the bird mask, stroking the shining copper and the feathers. The beads winked in the sunshine. “It’s beautiful, but sort of scary. Look at that cruel curved beak! Where have I seen one like this? At the mound museum?”
    “It may have been modeled on an artifact on display there,” Marguerite said. “There’s also a book with paintings of what they think the original masks looked like, but no reconstructions, as far as I know.”
    Lavonia laid the mask in the trunk. “You said something about a knife. Where is it?”
    “It wasn’t there.” Marguerite described the imprint on the chamois as she shut the trunk.
    Lavonia huffed. “Constantine must have hidden it because it would incriminate him. I bet there’s a cover of
Rolling Stone
where he’s brandishing that very knife. Why aren’t you terrified?”
    Marguerite hesitated.
Because he kissed me?
That wouldn’t cut it with Lavonia; it would only make matters worse.
Because he seems headed toward self-destruction, and I can’t bear that?
Lavonia would reply that if Constantine’s guilt was destroying him, it was exactly what he deserved.
    “That’s it.” Lavonia swiveled and made for the house again. “I’m calling the cops.”
    “I’ll deny everything you say.” Marguerite hurried after her, slopping coffee onto the paving stones.
    “Why?” Lavonia cried. “Even if Constantine didn’t do it, someone did.”
    “Right, so I want to find out where all the paraphernalia came from, especially the mask. I thought you might have some ideas.”
    Lavonia put her hands on her hips. “The only idea in my mind at the moment is that you barely escaped grave danger, and now you’re putting yourself right back in.”
    “It might be someone at Hellebore U,” Marguerite persisted. “At least half the people at that concert were students. Quite a few profs were there.”
    “Sure, but you should leave the investigation to the cops.”
    Must she be so stubborn? “Also, there’s another reason I don’t want anyone else involved.”
    “And what might that be?”
    Again, Marguerite hesitated. For obvious reasons, she couldn’t mention Zeb. If she did, Lavonia would go straight to his father, Al Bonnard. Zeb would feel betrayed, and any hope of getting information from him would be gone.
    “There’s nothing, is there? Stop trying to stall me.” Lavonia marched indoors.
    “I’m not stalling.” Marguerite followed her and shut the door, trying to sort things out in her mind. If some lunatic really had planned a rape or human sacrifice, how had Nathan found out? If it was just a setup to discredit Constantine, had they seriously expected Marguerite to back up their ugly story? Regardless, what did Zeb have to do with