The utilities weren't working.
I'd told Frank not to bother getting them fixed. I didn't want repairmen hanging around, asking questions, scaring away the wildlife. Besides, I'd camped out in worse places than this. I tugged out my battery-operated coffeemaker and got down to business.
"I'm Detective Conner Sullivan - New Orleans PD."
I'd already figured him for a cop. No one showed up this early in a suit and tie unless they were badge happy. What I couldn't figure out was what a guy like him was doing in a place like this. So I asked.
"Why is the New Orleans PD in St. Tammany Parish?"
I managed to get the coffee grounds into the proper container, then poured distilled water into the carafe and waited. I'd learned a long time ago that shaking the thing only made a mess. It didn't make the coffee come out any faster. More's the pity.
"I'm not squatting," I said when he didn't answer right away. "I rented this place fair and square. Or my employer did."
Sullivan stared at me for several seconds. His eyes were brown, which didn't seem right, but then, not every person of Irish descent possesses the blue or green gene.
"I'm not here to roust you," he murmured. "We don't usually send detectives for that."
"Good point." I picked up the coffeepot and lifted a brow in his direction.
"No thanks. I've already had so much I might jump out of my skin."
My lips twitched at the thought of this laconic man jumping anywhere over anything. I wondered if he were trying to make a joke, except he just kept staring at me with his curious cop eyes and flat, unsmiling mouth. Guess he was serious.
I poured myself a cup, then sat on my sleeping bag, leaving the only chair, a foldout canvas model, for him. He ignored it, choosing to stroll around the room peering into corners.
"I know you rented the place," he said, "but why?"
"I'm investigating reports of a wolf in the swamp."
"In Louisiana?" He cast me a quick glance. "I don't think so."
"I'll find that out and be on my way."
"What do you know about Adam Ruelle?"
I bid my surprise behind a sip of coffee. Why was everyone so interested in him? "According to the locals, he's dead."
Sullivan turned quickly for such a big man. "According to you, he isn't."
Hmm. He'd been busy this morning, checking my rental status, reading Cantrel and Hamilton's report.
I slurped more coffee, took my time swallowing, then lowered the cup. "A man who says he's Ruelle has been around."
"Where is he now?"
Good question. I had no idea where Adam lived. He just turned up wherever I was. Which was downright odd now that I thought about it. "Why do you care?"
Sullivan kept his dark gaze on my face. "A man was killed."
"Charlie. I know."
"Not him. Another man. Last night."
The cup halfway to my lips again, I had to tighten my fingers quickly before I dropped it into my lap. "Where?"
"Not far from the incident with Charlie Wagner."
I'd sworn I'd heard a growl, seen an animal, but what if I'd killed a person?
My hands started shaking, and coffee nearly cascaded over the edge of my cup. I set it on the floor as I took several deep breams and forced myself to mink.
I'd walked around, hadn't found anything. Not a person, not an animal, no blood. But it had been dark, and I wasn't Outdoor Girl no matter how much I liked to pretend that I was.
"Shot?" I blurted.
He gave me a strange look. An animal had killed the others. To know the man was shot - well, basically I'd just confessed.
Sighing, I ran through the names of everyone I knew. Not a lawyer among them. Hell.
"Not shot," Sullivan murmured.
Since I'd already fitted myself for a pair of handcuffs, my mind groped for meaning and quickly found one. "Another animal attack?"
I started to get to my feet, intent on seeing the body, checking the tracks, but his next words had me sitting right back down.
"Strangulation."
Now my mind was really groping. "Strangled? How?"
"Bare hands are the usual method."
I blinked at the repetition of my own thoughts of the night before. Adam had given me his gun. He'd had only his hands for protection. Had he used them?
"Fingerprints?" I asked.
" 'Bare hands' was just a figure of speech. A rope was used. Probably gloves. Not much evidence." He took a deep breath. "There've been more disappearances than usual in and around New Orleans."
I narrowed my eyes. "And you're starting to think