“Someone has to tell the truth here, Saria. Charisse, everyone tells me you’re a brilliant woman,” Drake was more exasperated than ever. “You know you are as well, yet you let everyone treat you as if you’re a small child that’s not quite bright. So your mother says you’re not beautiful enough to hold a man like Mahieu Boudreaux. Why in the hell would you ever believe her? Mahieu is a man of principle. Do you think he’s after you for your money?”

Two spots of color flamed into Charisse’s pale face. “Every man I’ve ever gone out with has dumped me for my mother. She sends them on their way and crows about it for months.”

He heard Saria inhale sharply and he glanced at her. She pressed a hand to her stomach as if sick and he felt an answering lurch in his gut. “Are you telling me your mother really seduced your boyfriends?”

Charisse stiffened. Shame crept into her expression. She nodded. “Even in high school. They always slept with her. I was never pretty enough, or smart enough . . .”

“That’s sick, Charisse. And abusive. If you’re so damned bright, how the hell did you not figure that out? Your mother has something wrong with her and she took it out on you. Did you really think Mahieu would sleep with her?”

“Mon dieu, cher, tell me you didn’t accuse Mahieu of sleeping with your mother,” Saria pleaded. “Please tell me you didn’t do that.”

A whisper of unease slipped into Drake’s mind and lodged there.

“I did though,” Charisse sobbed. “I did and he left. You should have seen the look on his face. He’ll never talk to me again. I tried callin’ him over and over. I texted him. He didn’t answer. And I went by your house before dawn and Remy said Mahieu never came home.” Her sobs went up another notch, reaching a crescendo. “My mother wasn’t home either last night.”

Drake stiffened, his mind racing, fingers of fear creeping down his spine. “I need you to calm down for me, Charisse. Stop crying. You won’t be of any help if you keep crying.” That terrible thought continued to drift unchecked through his mind. Impossible. Totally impossible. Yet that little tendril of suspicion refused to go away. “Is there a phone in this cabin, Saria?”

“Yes. Cell phones don’t work here.”

“Call Remy and tell him to get over here now,” Drake said. “Tell him to send the team to Fenton’s Marsh. I want them to spread out and look for any signs that someone has been there. And tell him to bring the photos you took out there.”