Free Patricia Dusenbury - Claire Marshall 01 - A Perfect Victim by Patricia Dusenbury Page A

deputies appear capable, but..."
    Vernon said he'd assign the new head of the homicide division to the case. If there had been
foul play, they'd be one step ahead. If not, no harm done.
    "Robinson came to us from the Army. He was an outstanding officer and an excellent
investigator." Vernon's review of Robinson's exemplary career--military police, college and law
school at the government's expense, the Judge Advocates General Corps--came with a subtle
warning. You won't be the only smart lawyer in the room.
    Paul had assured Henry that he would welcome working with someone who knew the
law.
    He wondered what had brought this paragon of virtue to New Orleans and how long it
would take him to succumb to the local culture.

CHAPTER 9
    Daniel Doucet saw the Sheriff Department's launch, but not soon enough. They signaled for
him to come alongside. When he did, Bill Reese, one of the deputies, leaned over the rail and tossed
him a line.
    "Morning, Daniel. You're getting a late start this morning."
    "Life of leisure, that's me."
    "Life of poaching is more like it."
    "You come all the way out here to waste the taxpayer's money, hassling me when I ain't
done nothing wrong, or are you actually working?"
    "A cabin burned last week, over on Bayou Perdu. We're looking for a witness."
    "Can't help you," Daniel said. "This is the first I've heard about it."
    "Well, you hear anything, contact the Sheriff's Department."
    "How come the sheriff cares about a cabin fire?" He considered it good riddance. If he'd
thought of it, he'd have blown the asshole's place up himself.
    "Owner was inside," Bill said, "a guy named Frank Palmer. He's dead."
    Daniel crossed himself. It had never occurred to him there was anyone in the cabin. If he'd
known, he would've tried to help. Then he remembered the loud whoosh , the flames
shooting into the sky and the heat on his skin. That cabin and anyone in it were history the minute
it blew. He would have gotten himself killed if he'd tried to be a hero.
    "You're not looking too good. Was Palmer a friend of yours?"
    He shook his head. "I don't like to think of bad stuff happening around here."
    "Weren't for bad stuff, I'd have to get a real job." Bill pulled his line back. "See you
'round."
    Daniel watched the launch move away. If deputies were out looking for witnesses, he'd best
keep to legal water. Regardless, he'd be staying away from that end of Bayou Perdu. A violent death
meant the asshole's spirit might linger looking for vengeance. Palmer's spirit, he corrected himself.
He rubbed his Saint Andrew medal and asked forgiveness for thinking ill of the dead.
    He motored over to the closest legal bed, dropped anchor and picked up his oyster tongs,
but his mind was elsewhere. Whoever torched the cabin must have killed Palmer. He mulled that
over for a moment. He, Daniel Doucet, a man who believed in minding his own business, had
witnessed a murder.
    Not that he actually saw the killer. He'd picked himself up off the bottom of his boat, with
no thought to anything but getting out of there. But the killer might have seen me.
    With sickening certainty, he realized there was no might about it. He'd sped right up the
middle of the bayou. A blind man could have seen him. A deaf man could have heard him. The killer
who was most likely up top of the levee by then would have seen and heard. Fear quickened his
pulse. No killer wants a witness.
    His first thought was to hole up in the swamps until things blew over. He knew his way
around these bayous better than anybody. A second thought said that was a lousy idea. This time of
year, the mosquitoes were a plague. He'd have to run into town for supplies, which meant people
would know he was around. Hiding wasn't the answer. He needed to put distance between himself
and the burned cabin. A quick review of acquaintances who had moved away produced no one
who'd be happy to put him up for a couple weeks, and he couldn't afford a motel.
    The solution stared him in the face. He just