The Vanishing by Jana DeLeon Page A

crept up from her neck. “Thank you. If anyone would have told me during nursing school that this is what I’d be doing today, I would have laughed. I wasn’t always this capable. Being a nurse gave me confidence in myself that I’d always lacked.” She frowned. “It was doing the same thing for Anna.”
    Max placed his hand on hers and gave it a squeeze before releasing it. “And it will again. Soon, you’ll both be back to saving lives.”
    Colette nodded as she studied Max’s face. The words had been delivered almost with hesitation. It was very slight, but she had become very adept at picking up even the most obscure indication from people. Was Max more worried about the situation than he’d let on?
    Or had his words pricked a personal sore spot within herself? Lately, she’d been restless with her job, her satisfaction with her work diminished from what it used to be. She’d thought it was just a slump and it would go away, but over the months, it had festered, there in the back of her mind despite all attempts to push it back. Maybe when all this was over, she’d feel differently, and if she didn’t, then it was time to admit she was ready for a change.
    They rode in silence the remainder of the way to Pirate’s Cove, her mind racing with the events of the past twenty-four hours. The facts alone were a lot to absorb, but her emotions were the part she struggled with the most. This situation had brought to the surface issues she’d pushed back in her mind, not wanting to deal with them. Now it seemed they were all catapulted to the forefront.
    “Where will you launch the boat?” Colette asked as they pulled into Pirate’s Cove.
    “I figured I’d ask the gas-station owner, Danny. His boat launch was good enough for small craft, and he was helpful before.”
    He parked in front of the gas station and Colette climbed out of the Jeep. She’d taken only one step toward the gas station when bony fingers grabbed her shoulder. She spun around to find an old Creole woman looking at her.
    The woman’s hair was silver with only a few streaks of black remaining. It fell to her waist, like a wiry shawl. Her skin showed the years spent on the bayou with no protection from the sun. Black eyes stared at Colette as if they could see inside of her.
    “Don’t go into the swamp,” the woman said, her voice low and raspy. “Only death awaits you.”
    A wave of panic spiked through Colette’s body. Her chest tightened and her pulse leaped. Before she could formulate a response, Tom rushed out of the café and placed his arm around the old woman, pulling her away from Colette.
    “Now, Marie,” he said, “you shouldn’t try to scare people with your nonsense.”
    The woman pushed his arm off her shoulder and pointed one bony finger at Colette. Her dead eyes stared. “Mark my words, if you enter the swamp, you’ll kill us all. The curse will descend on this swamp and all its inhabitants.”
    She began to back away as if she were afraid to turn her back to them. “He’s one of them. He knows,” she said and cast her gaze at Tom.
    Then with more speed than Colette would have imagined she was capable of, the old woman hurried down the embankment and into the line of cypress trees that marked the edge of the swamp.
    Max stepped beside her as Tom gave her an apologetic look.
    “I’m sorry about Marie,” Tom said. “She’s not all there anymore.”
    “She said something about a curse?” Colette asked.
    Tom shrugged. “Marie’s always talking about curses and omens and such. She was raised in the swamp with the old ways. Everyone around here knows not to pay her ramblings any mind.” He gave them a nod and walked back across the street and into the café.
    “Well,” Colette said and looked at Max, who stared at the line of trees where Marie had entered the swamp. “What do you make of that?”
    Max shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe nothing.”
    “But maybe something.”
    “If she lives in the