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Authors: Jana Deleon

BOOK: Resurrection in Mudbug
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Jadyn pulled a hush puppy out of the bag and took a bite. “Not at all,” she said after she’d swallowed. “Sure, it’s not what I expected, especially on my first day, but it’s part of the job. The reality is, I could run into the same problem anywhere.” 

“All the same,” Mildred said, “I still wish it hadn’t happened here.”

“It may not have,” Jadyn said. “Think positive, remember?”

“What do you mean?” Maryse asked.

“Jadyn thinks the storm might have blown the boat off-course,” Mildred explained, “and that it could have been bound for somewhere other than Mudbug.”

“That would be great,” Maryse said. “Not that I wish the problem on any other town, but I’d sorta prefer it if Mudbug wasn’t the one-stop shop for trouble this year.”

“Fingers crossed,” Jadyn said. “Hey, who was that woman you were arguing with outside of the café this morning?”

Maryse clenched the counter with one hand as the blood drained from her face. “What woman?” 

No way. No way was this happening. Not again.

“Sixties, overweight, wearing skinny jeans and shouldn’t have been. I ask because she looked familiar and you looked really pissed.”

“She’s a relative,” Maryse said, struggling to sound normal. “A really distant relative who lives out-of-state.”

Mildred scrunched her brow and stared at Maryse, knowing full well that Maryse had precious few blood relatives left and she knew all of them. Maryse prayed that Mildred wouldn’t chime in.

“I hope she doesn’t visit often,” Jadyn said, “because you sure didn’t look happy to see her.”

“She’s a trial,” Maryse said. “Fortunately, I don’t see her often.”

“Well, I hate to be rude,” Jadyn said, “but if I don’t eat, I’m going to pass out. Thanks for bringing this over, Maryse.”

“No problem,” Maryse managed as Jadyn grabbed the bag and headed upstairs. Maryse waited until she heard Jadyn’s room door slam shut before she turned to Mildred.

“What’s wrong?” Mildred asked. “It’s all over your face. Something awful.”

Maryse nodded. “Worse than awful.”

Mildred clenched her hands together. “Spit it out. Then we can figure out what to do about it.”

Maryse took a deep breath and steadied herself, knowing that even saying the words would make her weak.

“Helena is back.”

“Oh, God!” Mildred clutched the counter and lowered herself onto the stool behind her. “I knew. Before you even said it, I knew. There was something about your expression—something I haven’t seen since last year.”

“It’s probably an overwhelming look of doom.”

“Yeah, that about describes it.” Mildred ran one hand through her hair. “What did she say? Why is she back?”

Maryse relayed her conversation with Helena. Mildred made the sign of the cross when she got to the part about Helena pissing off God.

“That woman is going to bring the Revelation,” Mildred said. “She’s the rider on the pale horse.”

Maryse nodded, unable to disagree.

“So where is she now?” Mildred asked.

“I don’t know. I took off from the café and headed into the swamp for work. I haven’t seen her since.”

“Maybe she left again.” The hopeful sound in Mildred’s voice was clear.

Maryse shook her head. “Somehow, I don’t think so.”

“Have you told Sabine?”

“No. She and Beau don’t get back from their cruise until next week. I figured it would be cruel to tell her they’re returning to Mudbug complete with Helena Henry.”

Mildred nodded. “You’re right. Best wait. What about Raissa?”

“All I can get from her handler is that Raissa and Zach are deep undercover and can’t be reached. I left a message for her to contact me, but that’s all I can do.”

“And Hank?”

“I left a message for him to call, but I haven’t heard back yet.”

“What are we going to do?” Mildred asked. “We can’t have normal lives with Helena running around, especially now that she can stroll through locked doors.”

“We’ve got an even bigger problem than the loss of sanity and privacy.”

“What’s that?”

“The woman Jadyn saw me arguing with outside of the café this morning—that was Helena.”

 

 

Chapter Four

 

Despite her overly long and eventful first day, Jadyn was up early and out the door. She grabbed a quick breakfast at the café, then headed to the garage where the boat was stored. She figured the good sheriff would be at the garage first thing and didn’t want to give him any ammunition to pull the case from her. It wasn’t what she’d hoped for her first day on the job, but she was determined to prove she could handle anything the swamp could dish out.

She smiled when she saw the sheriff’s truck pulling up to the garage just ahead of her. Perfect timing. He stepped out of his truck and waited on Jadyn to exit her Jeep before motioning to the end bay on the huge metal building. 

“It’s in the last stall,” he sad. “I don’t suppose you thought to bring a camera, did you? I’m afraid ours met with a drunk and disorderly accident.”

Jadyn held in a grin as she and lifted the camera bag from the backseat. Score number two. “Are you kidding? I’m not about to miss documenting this.”

Colt nodded and started toward the stall. Jadyn fell into step behind him, her adrenaline starting to pump. At first, she’d been overwhelmed with the thought of such an investigation landing in her lap so soon. She had little knowledge of criminals beyond poachers, and aside from Maryse and Mildred, zero knowledge of Mudbug. It wasn’t the best set of credentials for this level of trouble.

But if it happened that the problem was Mudbug’s, no way was she shirking her duty. In fact, the longer she’d thought about it, the more excited she became about the possibility of making a name for herself so soon. If she could solve this, she’d be golden. No more backhanded comments about women and quotas. No more sly up-and-down looks from men, making the insinuation that something besides her ability to do her job had gotten her the positions she’d gained.

It was an opportunity to cease being Jadyn the hot woman in hiking boots and become Jadyn the game warden. Period. At least, that’s what she could hope for.

Colt unlocked the padlock on the door and rolled it up. Jadyn stepped inside and pulled the camera out, wanting to get some shots of the boat intact—well, as intact as it came out of the water—before she and Colt started tearing it apart.

“No name on the back,” she commented as she worked her way around.

Colt, who was also doing a walk-around, nodded. “I’ll bet there’s no license, registration, or any other identifier. Whatever the owner was up to, it wasn’t shrimping.”

Jadyn froze and lowered the camera, an awful thought crossing her mind. “You don’t think the owner is still…”

“In the boat? No. With the summer humidity, the smell would have hit us as soon as we got it out of the water.”

Jadyn relaxed a bit. It wasn’t the most pleasant of explanations, but he was right. 

“So what do you think happened to him?” she asked.

Colt shook his head. “Could have bailed during the storm and swam for shore. Could have gotten pitched out during the storm and drowned. If it’s the latter, we’re unlikely to find a body.”

“Not even this quickly? The boat couldn’t have been there more than twelve hours, right?”

“Crabs alone will skin a body in a matter of a day or two. And they’re not the only scavengers in these waters.”

Jadyn frowned, thinking about the crab dinner she’d had at Carolyn’s her first night in town. Maybe she’d cross crab off her list of acceptable dinner items.

“Had the crab at Carolyn’s, didn’t you?” Colt asked and grinned.

“Yes, but I don’t see why you find that amusing,” she said, irritated that he found her so transparent.

“No one’s gone missing in the bayous here in years, so you don’t have to worry about becoming a cannibal. Lots of people stop eating crab after big hurricanes, though.”

Okay. Ick.

“You really know how to launch a great morning conversation, Bertrand.”

He laughed. “You’ll get used to it. I know you think you’re a Louisiana native, but coming from north Louisiana, you may as well be a Yankee. Things are completely different in the bayous versus the piney woods.”

“Yeah, I got that loud and clear, but you don’t need to worry. I’m more than qualified to handle anything this town throws at me, Yankee or no.”

He studied her a couple of seconds before replying. “Maybe. But if it’s all the same, I’d like to keep my nose in things for a while. I have a vested interest in keeping this town safe. If something nasty is going on here, I want it gone.”

She bristled a bit at his words and his scrutiny. He wasn’t her boss or her employer. Who was he to sit in judgment of her abilities? For that matter, what of his own abilities if this had been going on under his nose? She could draw a line in the sand and tell him to back off her investigation, but for now, she’d keep quiet, a decision she’d probably end up regretting. 

The sheriff was a little too good-looking, a little too smooth for her comfort. But he knew the town and the people, and for all she knew, might even have experience with this sort of thing. The stark reality was that she felt better knowing someone had her back, even if he might try to nudge her out of the way. Things here were too different…too strange for her to feel comfortable going it alone just yet, but damn if she was letting him take over. She could already hear the locals commenting on that one—“the pretty little girl couldn’t handle the job so the big, bad sheriff had to rescue her.”

No way was that happening.

“I appreciate the help,” she said, deciding that sticking with the simplest sentiment was probably best.

He looked a bit surprised at the genuine tone in her voice.

“Not what you were expecting me to say?” she asked.

“It’s usually not the response one law enforcement officer gets when they try to horn in on another officer’s territory.”

“I can appreciate that, but the thing you need to know about me is that I’m not stupid. And as I have no male ego to get in my way, I see the advantage of having help from someone who knows the people and the lay of the land. I plan to stay in Mudbug a long time. I want the locals to know they can count on me to keep their town safe.”

He smiled. “It’s going to be nice having a smart woman around. Sometimes it seems there’s a shortage on brains all the way around in Mudbug.”

Considering that it was only the day before that she’d watched a bunch of men jump into alligator-infested water for the chance to fight over plastic bags of money, Jadyn was inclined to agree with Colt’s assessment.

“I am smart,” she said. “I’m also in charge. I would definitely appreciate your help, but it has to be my investigation and my terms. Is that all right with you?”

“It’s all good,” he said, but Jadyn got the impression that Colt had a completely different agenda. No way was the cocky young sheriff going to play second fiddle to a woman for long. She’d use him for the investigation, but if he stepped over the line, she’d cut him loose. It wasn’t a balancing act she was completely comfortable with, but she’d make it work. 

She didn’t see another choice.

###

Colt studied Jadyn as she worked the boat, careful to go about his scrutiny unobserved. She was thorough—he had to give her that—documenting everything with the camera and voice-recorded notes before allowing a single item in the boat to be moved. She’d donned plastic gloves before boarding, but he doubted it was because she thought any prints remained. More likely, she was simply trying to minimize direct contact with the nasty mud and swamp foliage strewn all over the boat. Being a guy, Colt didn’t have the same issues with dirty or stinky hands, so he went commando.

He’d been a little surprised when she’d accepted his offer to help so readily, but then he’d seen something in her eyes shift and she’d come back with the whole “but I’m in charge” statement. Apparently, the sexy game warden had something to prove. He’d been the same way when he’d made detective with the New Orleans PD. He could only imagine that the pressure for a woman in a traditionally male role would be even worse.

But all the same, how much he respected her desire to be in control depended on exactly where this whole mess was headed.

Even though they were thorough, it only took a couple of hours to determine that no identifiers existed on the boat. No registration, no license, no paperwork of any kind, except the Baggies of money that hadn’t floated away. But that wasn’t the thing that bothered Colt most. What worried him more was the fact that they still had no idea what the money was to be used for.

“I know this is a pointless question,” Jadyn said, “but I have to ask if we can drag the pond?”

“A net wouldn’t make it six inches before it hung on something it couldn’t pick up. Not to mention, we’d probably snag some alligators in the mess.”

“That’s what I figured.” She took a few final pictures of the outside of the boat, then packed her camera away in its bag. Leaning back against the metal wall of the garage, she stared at the boat and blew out a breath.

“So what do you think?” she asked.

“I think a lot of things, but none of them based on evidence, because we don’t have much to speak of.”

“I know. My mind’s rolling through all the things a boatload of money might be used to fund, and each one is worse than the one before.”

“Yep.”

She looked over at him. “You know this area—these people—what’s the most likely option?”

“With this area and these people specifically…none of them. I’ve known most everyone in town since I was a kid. I think I would have noticed if they were drug runners or something equally as despicable.”

Jadyn frowned.

“What?” he asked. “You think I’m wrong?”

“Not necessarily.”

“What then?”

“I think if someone has been conducting this level of business in Mudbug and not gotten on your radar, then it’s something new or it’s someone who’s above reproach.”

“That’s a nasty thought.”

“But not an inaccurate one. If this boat was headed for Mudbug, and if you really intend to help, you’re going to have to let go of any assumptions you’ve made about the people here.”

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