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“Danny, it’s not your fault,” Jacques said. “You didn’t assault that woman. He did.”

Remy’s cell phone chirped. He glanced down at it and frowned. “Just got a text from Deputy Cleyburn. They found a match on the partial plate of the vehicle that parked across from Yaya’s studio. It belongs to a local named Joe Sarley. He lives between here and Bayou Miste. Deputy Cleyburn contacted him. He’s willing to meet with him.”

“I’d like to be at that meeting,” Danny said. She doubted Sarley was her attacker, but if someone had paid him to break into her apartment to steal her medical records, that someone might be who they were looking for.

Remy’s thumbs moved over his cell phone. A moment later, he nodded. “Cleyburn arranged for an interview with Sarley. He sent the address, and he’s already on his way. If we leave now, we can meet him there.”

Danny was out of her seat and headed for the exit before Remy finished speaking.

Jacques and Remy weren’t far behind.

CHAPTER 10

After he cleared the outskirts of Bayou Mambaloa, Jacques floored the accelerator to keep up with Remy in the truck ahead.

Halfway to the address, his phone rang. Remy’s name flashed across the screen.

Jacques answered. “What’s the word?”

Remy’s voice sounded over the SUV’s speakers. “I just got off the phone with Cleyburn. He’s getting there first to start the interview. Danny, can you hear me?”

“I can,” Danny responded.

“When you get there, stay in the car. Don’t get out until we give the all-clear.”

Jacques shot a glance toward Danny.

Her lips thinned, and her brow furrowed in a stubborn line.

“Remy’s right,” Jacques said. “You have a stronger reason to speak with Sarley than anyone else, but you need to err on the side of caution. Sarley could be the bait to lure you out in the open.”

“If he’s not the attacker,” she said, “and I suspect he isn’t, he could’ve been hired by the attacker.”

“Exactly,” Remy said. “I’ll pass the turnoff, park a little farther away and come through on foot. Let Cleyburn conduct his interview. I’ll clear the perimeter before you approach. Danny, you need to stay back until I give the word.”

When Danny didn’t respond, Jacques pressed, “Danny…?”

She sighed. “I want to hear what he has to say. But I’ll stay back until you give me the go-ahead.”

Jacques understood her need to gather more information. He wanted it, too.

Remy pulled off the highway onto a side road and slowed as he reached a driveway. Instead of stopping, he briefly flashed his blinker, then continued past, disappearing around a corner.

“This must be it.” Jacques turned into a driveway leading to an old house with a wide front porch.

The house had seen better days. The porch sagged at one end, and the once-white paint had long since faded to a dull gray or peeled away to reveal the weathered wood beneath. A dark sedan sat at the side of the house, its license plate clearly visible and matching the last four characters they’d gleaned from Gisele’s security footage.

Deputy Cleyburn stood in the yard below the porch steps, speaking to the man on the porch, dressed in baggy blue jeans and a misshapen wife-beater tank top.

Jacques assumed this was Joe Sarley, the man who owned the sedan that had been seen lurking across the street from Yaya’s Yoga Studio.

Both Cleyburn and Sarley looked toward Jacques’s SUV as it rolled to a stop a few yards away.

Danny lowered the window and sat with her hand on the door handle, her head turned slightly to catch the conversation between the deputy and Sarley.

“I can’t hear what they’re saying,” she whispered.

Before he could stop her, she pushed the door open and dropped to the ground.