Page 16 of Landry (Bayou Brotherhood Protectors #7)

Landry swore under his breath.

As soon as Camille had touched the button and turned on the light, she hit the switch again.

Darkness descended over them.

“Why don’t you want to get their attention?” she whispered.

“We don’t know who’s out here this late.”

“It’s probably someone fishing or frog gigging,” Camille said, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced.

Landry could only hope she was right. “Sometimes, people moving around at night have more nefarious intentions.”

The light in the distance seemed to hover in place for several long seconds.

His breath lodged in his throat, Landry prayed whoever it was hadn’t seen their flashlight and would move on.

His prayer went unanswered as the light started toward them, picking up speed.

Landry glanced around, searching for a place to hide. Starlight shone down on a field of marsh grass. If he could push them into the grasses, they could hunker down and let the other boat pass by without seeing them.

He dug his pole into the soft silt of the bayou floor, sending them toward the marsh grass.

“What if there’s another alligator in there?” Camille asked.

“Stay down,” he said. “I’d rather take my chances with an alligator than potential drug runners.”

“Do you think they’re drug runners?” she asked quietly, pulling Ava closer.

“I don’t want to hang around and find out,” he said and pushed hard, sending them into the reeds.

Camille cradled Ava against her chest and slid off the bench and onto the bottom of the boat.

Landry hunched down and waited as the light moved closer. A bright beam lit up the night. Whoever was on the boat had a search light and was scanning the area.

The light skimmed over the tops of the reeds.

Landry sank lower and peered through the gaps.

A small boat, not much bigger than the skiff they were in, slid by with a single occupant. With the search light pointed in their direction, Landry couldn’t make out who was in the other boat. He closed one eye, hoping to retain some of his night vision.

“Ahoy,” a man’s voice called out. “Who’s out there? Are you in trouble? Need help?”

Landry thought he recognized the voice but couldn’t be sure.

“I saw your light,” the man said. “I assume you need help.”

As the beam turned away from them, Camille lifted her head above the rim of the skiff. “That sounds like J.D.,” she whispered.

“Are you certain?” Landry asked.

As the boat drifted by, the man inside it bent, then straightened and poured something over the side of his boat. He did it again. “Yell if you need help,” he said. “I can’t hang around long or my boat fills with water.”

“Oh, that’s him.” Camille sat up straighter. “J.D.?”

“The one and only,” the man responded. “Who dat?”

“It’s me, Camille Catoire,” she called out. “Over here.”

As the searchlight beam swung in their direction, Landry prayed that Camille was right.

“Camille, the candy lady?” the man asked. “Where you at?”

She raised her hand above the reeds. “We’re over here.”

The beam of light settled on her hand and dipped lower, shining in her eyes. “What in the fool darn heck are you doing out there?”

“We ran out of gas.”

“That’s what paddles are for,” the older man said.

“An alligator ate it,” Camille said. “But that’s another story for another time. Can you help us?”

“Sure can.” J.D. steered his boat toward the reeds. “I want to hear everything about that alligator.”

Landry dug the pole into the bottom of the bayou and pushed the skiff out into the open. He braced himself in case they were wrong.

As they emerged into the starlight, J.D. switched off the search light and set his engine to idle. The two boats drifted toward each other.

J.D. squinted in the starlight. “Who’s that with you, Ms. Catoire?”

“Landry Laurent,” Landry responded.

“Ah, Mr. Laurent, I’m glad to see our candy maker isn’t out here alone. The bayou can be a dangerous place at night.”

“Tell me about it,” Camille muttered.

“I’m not just talkin’ about ’gators,” J.D. said. “Four-legged critters are easy to handle compared to some two-legged nuisances.”

“Thus, the reason for taking cover in the marsh.” Landry dipped his head. “Glad you came along when you did.”

“Toss me a line,” J.D. said. “I’ll get you back to Ms. Catoire’s dock.”

Camille tossed the line to J.D. He tied it to the back of his little boat, scooped water out of the bottom and sighed. “I need to plug the hole, just haven’t taken the time. But don’t worry yourself. Once we get going, it won’t take on as much water.”

J.D. eased forward until the line stretched taut between them. Then he increased the speed until they were moving along at a marginally faster pace than Camille’s motor had maintained on the way out to the fishing hut.

Landry hadn’t shared why they’d been out in the bayou with J.D., and J.D. hadn’t asked. But then, J.D. hadn’t offered his reason for being out after dark.

What surprised Landry was that Camille hadn’t mentioned the fact they’d been out to J.D.’s fishing hut looking for a boy. Landry wondered if J.D. had been out there recently and if he knew he had a ten-year-old squatter living there.

The ride back to the dock took less than fifteen minutes from the time they’d tied off to J.D.’s boat to when they arrived, none the worse for their adventure.

“Can I pay you for towing us in, Mr. LaDue?” Camille asked.

“No way,” J.D. said. “Just being a good neighbor.”

“Then stop by the store sometime, and I’ll make up a special batch of Rocky Road Fudge with extra marshmallows and nuts.”

“Now that would be right kind of you, Ms. Camille.” He untied the line from the back of his boat. “You can tell me about the alligator then.”

Camille smiled. “You’re on. See you soon.”

“Thank you, Mr. LaDue,” Landry said.

“Call me J.D.,” the older man said.

“You know, I also work at the old boat factory,” Landry said. “Bring that boat by and we’ll see what we can do to plug the hole.”

“Might just do that. Thanks.” J.D. gave a mock salute, turned his boat around and slipped back into the bayou.

Landry tied the skiff to the dock and climbed out of the boat. He reached down and took Ava from her mother’s arms and settled her against his shoulder. Then he reached out his free hand to help Camille out of the boat.

She stepped up onto the dock and into the curve of his arm.

For a long moment, Landry held Camille and Ava against him, glad the night hadn’t ended in tragedy or stretched into morning trying to get back. “Are you all right?” he whispered against Camille’s ear.

She nodded, her arm encircling his waist, holding tightly. “I am now.” She laughed. “Remind me to never go boating in the bayou after dark again.”

“Never go boating in the bayou after dark,” he said. “Especially with a former Navy SEAL who can’t say no to a pretty woman and her adorable little girl.”

She leaned back and stroked her daughter’s back. “I feel bad that we didn’t find Billy Ray. I should’ve been more observant when Ava talked about him. I would’ve realized sooner that he wasn’t all in her imagination.”

“We live and learn every day.” He glanced down at Ava. “Let’s get her to bed.”

Camille stepped out of the curve of his arm.

Landry immediately missed the softness of her body pressed to his.

When he turned toward the cottage, Camille reached for his hand.

Landry’s chest filled with warmth and a sense of rightness. As they walked up the hill, all he could think was that this was what a family did. What a family looked like. They spent time together, accepted each other for their strengths and balanced each other’s weaknesses.

They didn’t abandon their loved ones to chase after the best business deal. They didn’t dump their kids with a nanny for months at a time, missing the important milestones of childhood—first steps, first words, first homerun, first touchdown, last game, graduation and reading a bedtime story.

Ava was a lucky little girl. Camille was a good mother who would do anything for her, the most important thing being that she loved her unconditionally.

As they approached the back porch, Camille’s steps slowed, her hand in his pulling him to a stop. “I closed and locked the back door, didn’t I?”

Landry’s arm tightened around Ava. “Yes, you did. We talked about it.”

“And I left the light on.”

The porch light wasn’t on. Nor were any lights on in the house. His gaze swept the immediate vicinity, returning to the back door shadowed by the overhanging porch. If he wasn’t mistaken, the door stood slightly ajar.

“Someone’s been in my house,” Camille whispered.

Landry couldn’t go into the house and check it out without leaving Ava and Camille in the yard. Unprotected.

“Come with me,” he said and hurried around to the front of the cottage.

Only his truck and her car stood in the drive. That didn’t mean they were the only people there.

He fished in his pocket for his keys, unlocked his truck and held the passenger door for Camille. “Get in,” he said.

She slid into the seat. “Where are we going?”

He handed Ava to Camille. “We aren’t going anywhere. I need you and Ava to stay here with the doors locked while I clear the house.” He handed her the keys and his phone, then reached across, opened the console and took out his Glock.

Her eyes widened. “Are we in danger?”

“I don’t know. But if the front porch light doesn’t come on in three minutes, or I don’t step out on it, call 911 and drive to the sheriff’s office as fast as you can.”

She raised the cell phone he’d handed her. “Shouldn’t I just call 911 now?”

“You can, if it makes you feel better. I’m going to see if the person who was in your house is still there. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’s only a ten-year-old boy.” He closed the door and tapped the window. “Lock it.”

She hit the button on the side of the door. Locks clicked in place.

Landry pulled back the slide, chambering a round, and approached the house. He climbed the steps and reached for the doorknob. They’d locked it earlier.

The knob turned easily.