Bayou Corruption (18 page)

“Y
ou'll never believe it, Al.” CoCo rushed into Alyssa's bedroom, her face flushed.

Alyssa set down the Bible. After Jackson had left her so abruptly, she'd had the strongest urge to read some Scripture. She'd changed into comfortable jeans and a T-shirt before diving into reading. “What?”

“The sheriff. He's come out of the coma!” Her sister danced across the floor. “Isn't it wonderful?”

Incredulity mixed with the desire to believe filled Alyssa. “When? How?”

“God's miracle. His healing touch. Our prayers have been answered.”

“I don't understand.”

“A nurse called Luc while I was at his house and told him. Said that Jackson had been visiting, talking to the sheriff, when suddenly he grabbed Jackson's arm.”

“I don't know what to say. This is amazing. The doctors told Jackson they didn't have much hope, since he'd been in a coma for so long.”

“I know. It's all God, Al. He's so amazing.”

Alyssa pushed to her feet, hesitated, then dropped back into the desk's chair. “I'm at a loss as to what we should do.”

“Praise God, that's what we do.” CoCo laughed. “Luc rushed to the hospital. He said he'd call later and let me know the details.”

She caught her sister's happiness, laughing. “This is great news. We'll know who assaulted him.”

CoCo froze, the smile falling from her face. “Oh, my. I just thought of something.”

“What?”

“What if his attackers find out he's out of a coma?”

The same thought had crossed Alyssa's mind, along with her suspicion of Martin Gocheaux's involvement in the crime. His own deputy. If the nurse called Luc, she'd surely called the police. Putting the sheriff in danger.

Alyssa jumped to her feet. “We've got to get to the hospital.”

“Why?”

“We need to make sure they post an officer at the sheriff's door. Not anyone with the local department, but one of those FBI agents.” Alyssa rushed down the stairs and grabbed her keys. “Deputy Gocheaux might be involved.”

“Should we call the hospital?”

“Get in. We'll call from the cell.”

Alyssa stepped on the accelerator, spinning out of the driveway. Gravel pinged against the back bumper. CoCo jabbed the numbers on her cell phone. She let out a growl. “It's busy.” She pushed the Redial button, then slammed the phone into the console. “Still busy. Does Jackson have any proof yet?”

Why did her sister assume Jackson would be the one securing proof and not her? Alyssa pushed down her inferiority complex, refusing to lose focus. As she steered the Honda toward the hospital, she relayed all she and Jackson had figured out.

CoCo shook her head. “And that's not enough to take to the FBI?”

“Not yet. It's all falling together in our minds, but we can't make the physical connection.”

“You know, Felicia's fiancé works on the dock. Maybe you could talk to him and see what he knows.”

Alyssa whipped into the parking lot, her mind stuttering. Jackson had said the sheriff set him up with someone working on the dock already. Someone who vouched for Jackson. Someone the sheriff apparently trusted. Could Luc's future brother-in-law be the one?

They rushed into the hospital's main entrance, passed the nurses' station and slipped into the elevator. Alyssa jabbed the button for the fourth floor. “What I still can't connect is if they are moving drugs, why didn't the DEA unit with the dog find them?”

“That is odd. Maybe they aren't smuggling drugs at all.”

The elevator door opened and they turned down the hall.

“What else could it be? That money dropped has to be payment for something.” Alyssa marched past the ICU waiting room.

“I'm working on trying to figure that out. Unless it's a new street drug the DEA hasn't made public yet. Takes time to train their dogs to pick up the new substances.”

A nurse stopped them.

“We're here to see Sheriff Theriot,” Alyssa said.

“I'm sorry. He's having tests conducted. No one is allowed inside right now.”

“Is there a guard outside his room?” Alyssa blurted out.

The nurse flashed a look of pure annoyance. “That's really of no concern to you.”

“CoCo.”

They turned to see Jackson and Luc striding down the hall toward them.

Alyssa's heartbeat hitched as the men drew closer. Her tongue suddenly felt as crisp as the garlic bread she'd burned.

Luc draped an arm over CoCo's shoulder. “He's awake and alert. They're running tests now. Isn't it a miracle right from God's finger?”

Jackson didn't speak, just pinned Alyssa to the spot with his stare.

The stare that probed deep into her spirit.

She dropped her gaze to the floor and studied her shoes. She slowly took in her attire. Faded jeans and a large shirt. For a moment, panic pounded. She looked like the hillbillies she despised. But then she realized she didn't care what she wore or how she appeared. Right here, right now, none of that mattered.

“Did he say anything?” CoCo asked.

Jackson shook his head. “The tube's still in his throat. They'll take it out for the tests.”

“Maybe he'll be able to tell us who did this,” Luc said.

“Is anyone here from law enforcement?” Alyssa asked softly.

Luc nodded. “Deputy Anderson and one of the FBI agents are in the cafeteria getting coffee. The doctor told them it'd be about an hour or so before they were done running the tests on Bubba.”

“Will he be put in a regular room?” Alyssa couldn't stand Jackson's staring. She shifted to face Luc and CoCo.

“Far as I know. Why?” Luc lowered his arm to her sister's waist.

“Because we have reason to believe someone in the sheriff's office was involved in the attack on Bubba,” Jackson said quietly, still staring at her.

What was up with him? She'd apologized, and he seemed to have accepted. Then, as if he'd suddenly been doused in printer's ink, he'd rushed off to run an errand. Ran away from her. A splinter of hurt jabbed her heart. She shoved the feeling aside. Why did she care so much?

Because her heart had already become involved with Jackson Devereaux.

She gave herself a mental shake to concentrate on the conversation. Jackson and CoCo brought Luc up to speed on what they'd uncovered.

“So you think Martin was involved?”

“I do,” Alyssa said.

“Have you shared this information with the FBI agents?”

Jackson shook his head. “They should have run a background check on every person connected to Bubba. If they had, they would know about Martin Gocheaux.”

“But what if they didn't?” Luc asked. “Shouldn't you at least tell them? Isn't it irresponsible if you don't?”

“The thing is, my friend who gave me the information is in the FBI. They aren't supposed to share information with anyone outside the agency.”

“Ah. I see.” Luc ran a hand over his face. “So, what can we do?”

“Let me try to talk to Agent Lockwood.” Alyssa surprised herself with her suggestion. “I think I might be able to convince him there's a threat without breaking any confidentiality.” She didn't like either of the agents, thought they'd done a poor job of investigating, but she didn't want to put Jackson in an awkward position.

“What will you say?” CoCo asked.

“I'll think of something.” Alyssa smiled. “They're in the cafeteria?”

Luc nodded. Alyssa strode toward the elevators, her mind racing. What would she say? She stepped inside the car. Just as the doors slid shut, a hand pushed them back. Jackson stepped into the elevator with her.

He made the tiny space seem even smaller. She inhaled, drawing in the fresh and spicy hint of his cologne. Her heart twisted into a knot.

“I thought maybe you'd like a little support.”

She did. But could she appeal to the agent with Jackson close by? He already had her all tied up in knots. “Thanks, but I think I should probably do this myself.”

Another one of those unreadable expressions carved into his face. “Then I'll just ride back up.” The muscle in his jaw twitched.

“Jackson, I don't know—”

The doors slid open.

“Forget about it, Alyssa.”

She stepped into the hall and faced him. “I don't know what's wrong between us. I—”

“Just go do what you need to do.”

The doors closed before she could argue. Her heart sinking into her stomach, Alyssa headed to the cafeteria. Spotting the two lawmen wasn't difficult. Deputy Anderson wore his uniform, and Agent Lockwood had on a black suit. Big surprise. She approached them with small steps.

“Ms. LeBlanc.” Deputy Anderson stood, color rising to his face. “Have you come to check on the sheriff?”

“Yes.” She flashed him a smile. “I actually need to speak to the agent here in private for a minute, though.”

Confusion clouded the deputy's face. “Oh. Okay.” He grabbed his foam cup. “I'll just head back up.”

“May I sit?” Alyssa asked when Anderson had left.

Agent Lockwood waved his hand over the seat. “What can I help you with, Ms. LeBlanc?”

She crossed her ankles under the metal table. “I've been doing some investigating in this situation.”

“Have you, now?”

Alyssa ignored the sarcasm. “Yes. I've discovered some things I think might be of interest to you.”

“Please enlighten me.”

Okay, now his sarcasm just out-and-out annoyed her. She cleared her throat. “Deputy Martin Gocheaux has been implicated in crimes before. Never charged, of course, but it's on his record.”

That got the stiff-neck's attention. “How do you know this?”

“I can't reveal my sources. But if you run a background check on him, you'll see what I mean.”

“What's that got to do with the sheriff?”

Here's where the situation got sticky. “Well, I believe it's possible that Deputy Gocheaux's involved in the attack on Sheriff Theriot.”

“What?” Agent Lockwood laughed. Literally threw his head back and gave a belly laugh. “Why would you even think such a thing?”

She gritted her teeth. “Did you know Martin Gocheaux is the nephew of former sheriff Roger Thibodeaux?”

“So? Lots of families have members going into the same profession. It's not uncommon.”

“Are you aware of the accusations and unexplained coincidences revolving around Thibodeaux?”

“Hearsay.”

He truly set out to grate her nerves. “What about the missing money from the sheriff's evidence room?”

“How did you know about that?”

Ah, now she had him. “Sources.” She leaned her forearms on the table. “Don't you find it odd that evidence—money, at that—comes up missing from the locked sheriff's office? Unless, of course, a certain deputy removed the money.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. Good. About time he got emotional over this case.

“I don't know who's leaking information to you, but you're interfering in a federal investigation.”

Now she laughed. “Interfering? Tsk, tsk, Agent Lockwood. Seems I know more about your case than you do. Could it be you aren't exactly doing your job?”

His face turned an interesting shade of red.

“Look, I don't want to get into a testosterone contest with you. All I'm asking you to do is to dig deeper into the deputy. Check out his connections and contacts.” Alyssa took in a deep breath. “And post an agent at the sheriff's door. Not one of his own deputies.”

The lines around his eyes had hardened with his tone.

“Please, Agent Lockwood.”

His expression softened. “I'll post an agent at his door.”

“Thank you.” She stood, her knees nearly knocking together. How she crossed the cafeteria floor and slipped into the elevator without falling on her face was a mystery to her. As she pressed the button for the fourth floor, she mentally celebrated her victory. The door whooshed open and Jackson stood back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

The elation joined her heart in her toes.

 

Did she have to look so vulnerable?

Jackson pushed off the wall and moved in step with Alyssa. “So? How'd it go?”

“He'll assign an agent to guard the sheriff's door.” Her gaze darted along the hall.

“What else?”

“He made no other promises. I thought that would be enough.”