Rumble on the Bayou (19 page)

***

The mention of Sheriff Berenger was all it took to kick Richard into action. He wasn't about to give the old man the satisfaction of knowing exactly how he and Dorie had settled their differences. That would be far too embarrassing.

Hurrying into the other room, he located his clothes and tugged the clingy material on as quickly as possible, still amazed that things had gone as far as they did between him and Dorie.

He'd only intended to kiss her, but the touch of her lips and the knowledge of her naked body resting just inches away under an easily removable barrier had taken his breath away. Feeling like a teenager parking for the first time, he'd tried to reel himself in, afraid if he didn't show restraint, she'd throw up that wall around her all over again.

But when she'd dropped the blanket, there had been no mistaking the desire in her eyes, and there was no force on earth that could have made him resist her.

Even if he'd wanted to.

Making love to Dorie had been everything he'd thought it would be. He only hoped that when they were out of the camp and back to relative safety, she wouldn't decide it had been a mistake. There was a huge passion inside of her, but it seemed to only run outward, rarely allowing anyone to touch her life the way she'd touched theirs.

That was all about to change. Now that he'd seen an entirely different side of her, there was no way he was letting her slide back into her comfortable cocoon and shut him out. There was plenty of protected land around the D.C. area that needed watching, and Dorie seemed to have no problems at all with her game warden duties. If her disgruntled father came with the deal, then Richard would figure out what to do with him along the way.

As he slid on his shoes, he heard engine noise right outside of the camp. Peering out of the bedroom window, he saw Joe dock his boat, then pull out his weapon and proceed cautiously toward the camp.

He had just stepped off the pier and onto the path when Dorie yelled at him from the camp that everything was clear. Richard tied his shoes, threw on his shirt, and hurried to the front room just as Joe stepped inside.

***

"What the hell happened?" Joe asked. "Why are you wet and where is your boat?" He looked more upset than angry, and Dorie knew he wouldn't take the news of an attempt on her life lightly.

Placing one hand on his arm, she said, "I'm fine, but we have a serious problem here." She told him what had happened to her and Richard.

Joe banged his fist on the table and swore. "Damn it, Dorie! You could have been killed. It's a miracle that you weren't. What the hell kind of position would that leave everyone in?"

Joe turned and glared at Richard. "And what were you thinking?" he continued to rant. "Were you thinking at all? You knew damn good and well what you were after when you came here. Are you willing to make anyone expendable to get your man?"

She started to defend Richard, but didn't. Joe was on a real tear, and when he got that way, it was better to just ride it out. The normally mild-mannered deputy didn't get upset often, but when he did, it was a sight to behold.

"You're right," Richard said, obviously keying in on Joe's mood and not wanting a fight. "It is all my fault. I should never have asked Dorie to come out here. It won't happen again."

Joe blinked, apparently expecting an argument and caught by surprise with the apology. Dorie bit her lip and tried not to smile. Richard sure had a way of twisting things around. He even had Joe confused.

"Well," Joe said, finally relenting a little. "I guess it's not all your fault." He gave Dorie a stern look. "But you will not do any more investigating without proper backup. If this guy is crazy enough to take shots at a DEA agent and a deputy in broad daylight, then he won't hesitate to try again."

She shook her head. "There's only three of us. We can't stick together all of the time or we'll never cover any ground. And besides, you know better. If this guy wants me dead, he will get me. That's the odds."

"To hell with the odds," Joe said. "You know I suck at gambling so I'm not about to use you as a playing chip."

"I don't think he's going to come after me personally. What happened today was probably a fluke. We came up on him and he took an opportunity. I don't think he planned it that way. Besides, Roland has to know that we've already got an ID on him. It's not like I have more damaging information than Dick already had when he came here." She looked at Richard.

"She's probably right," Richard agreed. "In the big scheme of things, Dorie is relatively unimportant. Roland won't expend the energy to come after her. It's not worth it. But he would take advantage of an opportunity if it presented itself."

"Like today?" Joe asked. "My point is, Dorie spends her entire night and day presenting someone with an easy opportunity."

She started to protest, but Joe cut her off. "You know I'm right. You spend all day as an open target in the bayous and you live on that boat docked out in the middle of nowhere. It wouldn't take any more effort than a ten-minute drive to catch you there alone. And not a person in the world is close enough to even hear the gunshots, much less a call for help."

Joe ran one hand through his hair, the concern on his face unmistakable. "At least move in closer to town until this guy is caught," he said. "You can have the spare room at my place."

He looked at Richard, apparently expecting him to protest, but Richard nodded. "It's not a bad idea, Dorie. Your place is isolated. You'd be a sitting duck."
No way." Dorie said, shaking her head. "I'm not leaving my house. I have to be there to think. I can't operate at full capacity on anyone else's turf." She gave Joe a small smile. "Besides, you snore like a freight train."

Joe swore again, but she knew he wouldn't push. He was smarter than that.

"So where do we start?" Joe asked. "I know you're waiting on the DNA results, but isn't it just a formality at this point? No one in Gator Bait would take a shot at Dorie. At least not sober. And no one but Maylene is drunk this early."

Dorie let out a breath and lowered her eyes, unable to look at Joe with what she had to say. She had been dreading this all along and now the moment was upon her. "I think it's time we questioned a couple of people in town. Dick and I will start with Buster. This is his camp, and as much as I hate to think anything bad, it's the logical place to start."

Joe stared at her for a moment, then nodded, obviously resigned to the unpleasant task. "Who do you want me to start with?"

She considered this for a moment. "Try Pete at the bar and Sammy at the grocery store. Ask if they've heard of any trouble at the camps or if any boats have come up missing lately, even if they were returned. Ask if they've seen anyone around they didn't know. Aside from Lake Charles fishermen, of course."

"Okay. I can cover both of them this afternoon. You gonna get Stella?"

“
Yeah. We can talk to her after Buster and check out her rental sheets. Unless he imported it, Roland got that boat from someone in Gator Bait. I want to know who."

"What about Jenny?" Joe asked, and lowered his eyes to the ground.

Dorie glared at him. "Joe Miller, I'm surprised at you. I understand thoroughness in your job, but if Jenny Johnson is involved in this, then I'll kiss your butt right in the middle of Main Street." She looked at Richard, hoping for confirmation.

"It's not very likely," Richard agreed. "Even if I hadn't met Jenny and already formed an opinion, Roland, as a rule, doesn't deal with women. Besides, Jenny is a little young for him to trust on this kind of deal. Roland likes his partners a bit older and much more desperate."

Joe nodded in obvious relief. "How about we meet back at the sheriff's office around five? Will that give you enough time to get some dry clothes and talk to everyone?"

Dorie looked over at Richard, who nodded. "That's fine," she said.

Their afternoon of work planned, she waved Richard and Joe out of the camp and stepped out onto the porch, tugging at the ring of keys in her still damp pocket. She locked the door and started down the steps behind them, an uneasy feeling settling over her that had nothing to do with the job she was about to perform.

Her morning with Richard had opened too many doors that had been sealed for a long time basically, a lifetime. And that frightened her. Sleeping with him was a lapse in judgment that she normally would never have made. Not that she regretted the sex. It was fantastic and quite frankly probably the best she'd ever had, but still something nagged at her, not allowing her to bask in the afterglow of their incredible passion.

The real problem was that this time hadn't felt casual to her, like the occasional ones in the past had. And since Richard was just stopping by and she wasn't leaving Gator Bait, anything more than a physical release wasn't a possibility.

She shook her head at her line of thinking and stepped onto the pier. What in the world was wrong with her? Good Lord Almighty, was she actually starting to think like a girl? Had the orgasm affected her mind? That would be disastrous. She had to focus, remember her credo--a good time for a short while. Long term was not in her vocabulary.

She needed to concentrate on the job and forget the things that had happened today. Weakness was not an option and getting involved with Richard would make her anything but strong.

***

Shawn Roland lowered his binoculars and frowned, unhappy that the problem he thought he'd taken care of that morning was strolling down the pier in front of the camp. How could he have been mistaken? He'd waited for almost twenty minutes after firing and never saw movement.

He shook his head in disgust. They must have hidden under the pier, although how they managed to get there unscathed was beyond him. Roland didn't believe in luck. Luck was something counted on by people who didn't plan, and he planned everything, down to his meals and the color of his socks.

There had been a time once, when he wasn't that way, and it had almost cost him his life. He looked through the binoculars again at the tall blonde climbing into the boat.
Women. A woman was almost my undoing. Can't trust them for shit, and now I've got one after me, along with that damn DEA agent.

He sat back down in the boat.
My business in this town is over.
Killing them, while seeming to be the best option this morning, would only have brought more agents into town. What he really needed to do was keep them out of his way until his shipment arrived and was transported out of Gator Bait.

The DEA agent wasn't a huge threat as far as he was concerned. He'd already managed to evade the man for years. Getting caught now by the city slicker deep in the Louisiana bayous was highly improbable. But the woman was a problem. She knew the area-everything about it-and wasn't likely to miss the slightest change in her surroundings or her residents. His associate in Gator Bait had warned him about the woman in the beginning and feared that without anything to stop her, she'd figure out his identity and the drop location before the deal could go down.

He blew out a breath and shook his head. Last time he'd made a drop in Gator Bait, he'd been saddled with another nosy bitch. He'd taken care of that one only to have this one crop up behind her - relentless, pushy and apparently not about to give an inch. What he needed was more time, and it had come to the point where the only option was to remove them permanently, and fast.

Of course, with the heavy paperwork required in any government agency, killing them would buy him all the time he needed. It would take days to reassign a DEA agent. He'd benefited from the red tape nightmare many times. Replacing the woman with someone as good also seemed unlikely. And besides, killing was so much fun. Especially with a worthy adversary.

He watched their boat fade into the distance, his mind made up. He didn't know how the two of them had survived his attempt this morning, but it wouldn't happen again. First he'd deal with the woman. She posed the biggest threat. But this time, he would have a plan. And a plan beat out luck every time.

***

Joe pressed the throttle down on his boat, forcing it faster and faster down the bayou. The sooner this was over with, the better. Life for him had come to an all-time low. Forced to question his friends as suspects, worried that something could happen to Dorie - all of it weighed on him like a ton of lead. And his conversation with Dorie was far from over. He was just waiting until he got her alone to continue it.

When they got back to the dock, Richard hurried across the street to the motel for a set of clean clothes and to put a priority order on another cell phone. Dorie and Joe went into the sheriff's office where Dorie pulled out a duffle bag containing an extra pair of jeans and a T-shirt. In their line of work, a spare set of everything was always a good idea, and Dorie managed to damage or lose things faster than most. The bayou was not always as peaceful as it seemed. In the storage closet, next to the duffle bag, was a stack of cell phone boxes. Joe removed a box from inside and tossed it on her desk while Dorie dug another pistol out of her desk drawer.