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“And it sounds good. I’m happy for you both. This thing with the tour is horrible and scary. There could be more. And you can’t believe the e-mails we’re getting. I’ll read you one of my favorites.” He tapped the keyboard on his desk. “‘You irresponsible asses. A few years up north and you forget who you are and what you came from. Money hungry asses. You’ve awakened the rougarou. Death is on your hands. You’re murderers.’ Here’s another one, really concise. ‘Fuck you, monster men.’” He shook his head and looked up. “Do you believe this crap?”
    “Why not?” David asked wearily. “There are television shows dedicated to chasing the yeti or abominable snowman. People love legends more than the truth.”
    “And,” Danni said, “some people are just superstitious, and really stupid, cruel, rude, and horrible. It’ll go away when the police find the killer.”
    Julian looked up at her. He was about her age, still not thirty, but looked younger with thin dark hair and wide eyes. Usually quick to smile, today he looked as if he was simply beaten down.
    “They didn’t catch the guy when we were kids,” he said. “Could that same murderer have waited for twenty years to start over again? Or did we somehow really awaken the soul of Count D’Oro and let him run around as a rougarou again?”
    “Someone is obviously playing on legend,” Danni said. “Julian, did you see anything?”
    He shook his head with disgust. “I was just maneuvering through the swamp, like I’ve done most of my life. We had a good group on board. They listened, joked around, laughing. It was good. Then I heard the scream and saw the body.”
    “What about the young man you didn’t hire? David said that you don’t have any enemies, but that you didn’t hire a guy who was being a jerk.”
    “That guy? He didn’t seem smart enough to kill anyone. Maybe you don’t have to be smart. His name was—” He paused and hit a few keys on his computer again. “Jim Novak. Thirty-three. No college. But somehow graduated high school. He claimed that he’d been a tour guide in Savannah. I never tried to verify his résumé since I knew we weren’t hiring him.”
    “Address?” Danni asked.
    Julian drew a notepad toward him, checked the computer screen, and scribbled down the address. He handed the paper to her.
    “Can you think of anyone else who might not want you guys to make a success of this tour? Or anyone who might want to somehow use the two of you as scapegoats?”
    Julian looked at David. “What’s her face? The woman who owns that other tour company. Victoria—”
    “Miller,” David added.
    “She was ticked-off about us doing this tour,” Julian said.
    “I think she was madder because her boyfriend, that Gene Andre guy, thought it was a great idea. And then there’s the realtor, your dad’s old friend, Julian,” David said.
    “He wanted to buy the property with the docks,” Julian said. “Guess they’re pretty worthless now.”
    “What’s the guy’s name?” she asked. “There are lots of realtors around.”
    “Byron Grayson. Old, smart-looking dude,” Julian said. “Always in a gray suit.”
    “To be honest,” David said. “I can’t even imagine him in the swamp.”
    Danni nodded. “I’m going to head back and start doing some research. Here’s the thing, whoever killed that man knew the legends. I’ll see what I can find.”
    “I’ll walk back with you,” David said. “Julian, I’ll be back—”
    “I’m going home to my apartment, not out to any of the shacks by Honey Swamp,” Julian said. “I’m going to duck and cover for a while.”
    “We will figure this out,” Danni said,
    But what if they couldn’t? They were talking about the swamp.
    A great place to hide a million sins.
    She said good-bye to Julian and Sandy, then she and David walked the few blocks from the Legends office back to the Cheshire Cat. They came through the shop and spoke briefly with Billie