Page 29 of Landry (Bayou Brotherhood Protectors #7)

With Harlan Mark Sanders lying dead at Landry’s feet, he wondered who could have killed him and how many people were involved in finding whatever it was they thought Camille had.

Camille.

Holy hell.

Landry’s heart skipped several beats and then kicked into high speed as he broke into a run, heading back around the house and up the drive toward the place he’d parked the truck with Camille hiding inside.

He'd been a fool to leave her in the truck. He should have waited for backup before heading down to the house. Or at least waited for someone else to go to the house, while he did his job and protected Camille.

If the people who’d killed Sanders were still around, they might have found her.

The more he thought about it, the more his gut told him to hurry.

As he neared the stand of trees behind which he’d hidden the truck, the wail of a siren sounded in the distance.

Moments later, the rumble of an engine firing up was quickly followed by the distinct roar of a giant fan on an airboat.

Nothing sounded quite like it. It was impossible to mistake it for something else.

Landry’s heart sank into the pit of his belly. Even before he reached his truck, he knew.

She was gone.

The passenger door stood open, the light shining from the empty interior. It hadn’t been forced open. She had gotten out on her own.

Landry fished the flashlight out from beneath his seat and ran toward the bayou.

The roar of the airboat diminished. It was moving away, probably with Camille on it.

“Camille!” he called out, hoping she’d run into the woods to hide.

As he ran, he fished his cell phone from his pocket and called Remy.

“We’re almost there,” Remy said.

“Too late,” Landry said. “Camille’s gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s gone. I think they took her on an airboat.”

“Shelby just dropped off Jean-Luc with her sister. I’ll have her go straight to the marina for a boat. She should be there in less than ten minutes.”

“Sooner, if she can.”

“Got it. I’ll be there in two.”

Landry slowed as he neared the water. The airboat was nowhere to be seen. A dull ache throbbed in his chest where his heart had once been. He’d failed her.

Clinging to that last bit of hope, he shined the flashlight at the damp dirt near the water’s edge, looking for footprints, praying he didn’t see any small enough to be the shoes Camille had worn that evening. Flat slipper-like shoes.

His heart sank further when he located skid marks created by a boat’s hull in the mud.

Nearby, he also found footprints that had to be Camille’s.

Several larger sets of prints were smeared into the mud along with another smaller set of prints from what appeared to be running shoes with very little tread left on them.

Landry moved closer to the water and shined his light over the surface.

In the shallows, he found one of the shoes that could have made the other small prints.

It was a ragged, dirty shoe around the same size as Camille’s foot.

The laces had been broken, forcing the wearer to tie them lower in the row of eyelets.

Could the owner of the abandoned shoe be Billy Ray?

In that case, the airboat that had just left had to have had both Billy Ray and Camille on it.

Landry ran back toward the road, coming to a sliding halt as the rumble of an engine and the crunch of wheels on gravel heralded the approach of a vehicle.

As soon as he recognized the oncoming truck as the one Remy drove, he stepped into the open and waved him down.

Remy slammed on his brakes, shifted into park and leaped to the ground. “I take it you didn’t find her?”

“No.” Landry held up the shoe. “I found this near the bank of the bayou, along with other footprints, including some I think were Camille’s. Looks like they have her and the runaway, Billy Ray.”

“Shelby’s at the marina. She’ll be here soon. She’ll pick us up at the dock. Get in.” Remy slid behind the wheel.

Landry climbed into the passenger seat, an internal clock ticking away the minutes they had left to find Camille and the boy before they were killed or lost forever.

Remy parked the truck beside Sanders’s SUV. “Sheriff Bergeron is on his way. He’ll have the state crime lab on their way to process the murder.”

Remy and Landry climbed out of the truck.

“I brought hardware in case we need it.” Remy opened the back door of the pickup, folded the seat forward and extracted two bullet-proof vests, handing one to Landry. “Put that on.” He shrugged into one while Landry slipped his arms into the other and buckled the front.

Remy reached again behind the seat and removed an AR-15 rifle and several full magazines. He loaded the magazines into the pockets across the front of his vest. He glanced at the pistol in Landry’s hand. “Nine-millimeter Glock, right?”

Landry nodded.

Remy handed him a full clip of bullets.

“Thanks,” Landry said and slid the magazine into a pocket in his vest.

Not done yet, Remy handed Landry a knife encased in a scabbard. “Might not need that on a date, but they come in handy in close combat.”

Landry clipped the knife onto his belt and counted the seconds until Shelby arrived with the boat. By the time she did arrive, Camille could be anywhere in the bayou.

Remy tapped his arm. “Don’t forget these.” He held out his hand and dropped a headset into Landry’s hand.

Landry slipped it over his head and adjusted the earphones to fit snugly against his ears. They tested the radios’ functionality and turned when headlights flashed behind them. Moments later, another truck pulled in.

Gerard, Lucas and Rafael jumped out, already wearing bulletproof vests. They pulled out rifles and handguns and joined Remy and Landry.

An SUV joined the other vehicles with Sinclair Sevier—Simon to his buddies—and Valentin Vachon. As they gathered their gear and headed for the dock, Landry filled them in on what had happened thus far.

Landry had just stepped foot on the dock when his cell phone chirped.

“That’ll be Swede,” Remy said. “I gave him the heads up. He had some information he wanted to share when we got to you.”

Landry answered and clicked the speaker button.

Swede’s voice came through loud and clear. “Heard your girl was taken.”

“Eight minutes ago, and counting,” Landry answered.

“Got word from the dark web that Tony Rossi sent Dion Pardeau and several of his heavies to pick up Camille’s ex, Richard DeSalle, as he was released from prison.

According to what was circulating on the web, DeSalle stole a particular diamond necklace Tony gave his girlfriend.

She couldn’t file a police report on it because Tony had picked it up on the black market from another thief who’d taken it from a Russian oligarch’s wife. ”

“Thus, the saying, no honor among thieves,” another voice said. “Hank here. Swede’s been digging up some interesting information. Apparently, Richard DeSalle’s cellmate, Carlo Morello, was one of Tony Rossi’s guys who was unfortunate enough to be incarcerated for dealing drugs. Tell them, Swede.”

“That’s right,” Swede said. “As DeSalle neared his parole date, he was bragging to Morello that he had some of his acquired stash waiting for him, and he’d be sitting pretty.

He’d hidden it in a place no one would find.

When asked where he’d hidden it, all he’d said was ‘home is where the heart is.’”

“That would explain why they gutted the house he’d lived in with Camille,” Landry noted.

“But not why they gutted Camille’s place in Bayou Mambaloa.

Unless, upon coming up empty-handed at their original address, they were under the assumption she had been hiding it all along.

” His pulse quickened. The thought of the Italian mafia torturing Camille to get information she didn’t have made Landry sick to his stomach.

“How does the prison guard fit in?” Remy asked.

“He must have overheard the conversation and gone on a softer search of Camille’s belongings,” Hank suggested.

“So, they’re looking for a missing necklace that Camille has no idea where it is. They have Camille and Billy Ray, and they’re headed into the bayou.” Remy shook his head. “That makes no sense.”

“Camille said she left their home with nothing more than a suitcase and the clothes on their backs,” Landry said. “Home is where the heart is... What does that mean if not the house they lived in?”

“Home isn’t always a house,” Hank said. “It can be wherever you are with the people you love.”

“But that’s a place,” Landry argued. “They’re looking for something DeSalle could’ve hidden the necklace in.”

“Was there any one thing that meant a lot to Camille that she would never consider throwing away?” Hank asked. “A jewel box, painting or gift someone she loved gave her? Something big enough to hide a necklace in, but small enough to keep even when she had nowhere to go but a homeless shelter?”

Landry shook his head. He should know this. He felt as if the answer was on the edge of his mind, but not coming through.

Swede continued, “Good news is that Tony’s men haven’t divested Camille of her cell phone as of this moment. I was able to hack into her carrier and track the phone. Looks like they’re out in the bayou. I can send her location to your phone and the path she’s taken so far.”

“Thank God,” Landry said. “All we need now is a boat to get us there.”

As if on cue, a light appeared across the water, speeding toward them, followed by another light.

The Sheriff’s Department boat arrived first with Shelby at the helm.

As they waited for the boats to arrive, Remy sighed. “I can understand taking Camille, but why the kid?”

That question had been nagging Landry, as well.

Then it hit him.

“The bear,” he murmured. “Oh my God, it’s in the bear.”

“What bear?” Remy asked.

“Fuzzy Bear,” Landry said. “Ava’s stuffed bear.

It belonged to Camille before Ava. Her mother had given it to her.

It was the last thing her mother had given her that she still owned.

Ava gave it to Billy Ray when he was sick.

It’s big enough to hide a necklace in, and Camille would never have gotten rid of it. I think I know where they’re headed.”

Shelby slowed her boat, slid up against the dock and threw Remy a line. He caught it and secured the boat.

The craft that had followed Shelby’s was what looked like a charter airboat. As it came to a stop on the other side of the dock, Mitchell Marceau, the owner of Marceau’s Marina, sat at the helm. Beside him was J.D. LaDue.

Remy grinned. “If anyone can find Camille in the bayou, it’s J.D. and Marceau.”

“J.D. is the exact person we need,” Landry said. “I think Billy Ray is taking them out to the Later Gator Fishing Hut.”

“No kidding?” Remy shoved a hand through his hair. “That place has seen a lot of action.”

“Some of which you can keep to yourself,” Shelby said.

Remy chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.” His smile disappeared as he nodded toward the airboat. “Landry, go with J.D. and Marceau. Take Simon, Valentin and Rafael. Gerard and Lucas, come with me.”

While Remy, Gerard and Lucas boarded the sheriff’s craft, Landry leaped onto the deck of the fan boat, followed by Simon, Valentin and Rafael.

J.D. met Landry with his hand outstretched. “I was playing cards with Mitch when I heard our candy maker was in trouble.”

Landry shook the man’s hand. “Glad you came along. We need your bayou navigation skills.”

J.D. chuckled. “You got the right team for that job.”

Landry gave J.D. and Marceau a nod and said, “They’re headed for the Later Gator Fishing Hut.”

J.D.’s eyes widened. “My paradise in the bayou? Why the fool darn heck would they go there? Don’t they know it’s practically falling down? Should’ve salvaged it sooner, but I need a decent boat to do it with, not one with a hole in the bottom.”

“You need to fix that hole,” Marceau said. “Now, stop flapping your gums and let’s get to that hunk of junk shack. Take a seat and hold on.”

Landry, Simon, Valentin and Rafael settled on the bench seats usually reserved for customers who chartered the boat for a bayou experience.

Shelby had backed her boat away from the dock and turned, facing the expanse of bayou, and waited for the other boat to lead the way.

J.D. settled on the seat beside Marceau as the captain fired up the engine, spun the airboat around and shoved the throttle forward.

Landry sat forward, the fan numbing his ears, his pulse pounding. All he could think about was that they were approximately ten to fifteen minutes behind the other airboat. His internal clock ticked away the time Camille and Billy Ray might have left to live.

He had to get there before anything happened to them. Billy Ray deserved the chance to live with a family who loved him. Ava needed the mother who cared for her and loved her unconditionally.

Landry needed Camille. She represented everything that had been missing in his life.

Unlike his cold, heartless parents, Camille was warm, loving and cared about her daughter, her friends and her community.

She helped others, not for what she could get out of it, but for what she could give selflessly.

She deserved the kind of beautiful life she gave to others.

If she lived through this...

No. She would live through this, and Landry would do everything in his power to be the person she deserved.

Someone who could love her and give her support and encouragement, who would treat her with respect and fill her life with love.

Someone who would love Ava, the center of Camille’s universe, like she loved her daughter.

And what was not to love about that little girl?

She’d had Landry wrapped around his little finger from the moment she’d thrown her arms around his neck and told him he smelled like peppermint.

She’d charged right through the wall he’d built around his heart and claimed a spot dead center.

His lips curved upward in a smile. He wanted to teach her how to fish and to read stories to her until she fell into a blissful sleep filled with unicorns and sunshine.

Then he wanted to make love with Camille late into the night and kiss her awake when the sun came up the next morning. He’d have to convince her that he wasn’t like her ex-husband. She could trust him to keep his promises and be there for her and Ava.

His smile faded, and his jaw tightened. They had to get there on time. Camille and Ava were the real deal. A family Landry wanted to be a part of. And a love he’d die fighting for.