“It’s going to be a lovely gazebo, Boudreaux,” Luci said. Working together, they’d been able to get the frame in place without the concrete Reggie had been so sure was necessary. Over Boudreaux’s shoulder she could see the bougainvillea with yellow Police tape still around it. “Not exactly original, but a workable plan, I will admit.”
Boudreaux, not following her train of thought, mumbled a question.
“The body under the gazebo thing. Think about it. You strip the body, remove all identifying clothing and jewelry—except for that touch of squeamishness about the privates it would have worked like a charm for him with Reggie and the bougainvillea—bury him, add a little cement and a gazebo and let nature take its course. In this climate, nature wouldn’t take long. Moisture would accelerate d
