Bayou Corruption

by Robin Caroll

• ISBN13: 9780373442799
• ISBN10: 0373442793
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2008-02-12
• Publisher: Steeple Hill

Summary

"Don't let them get away with it, Jacks--- "Those were the sheriff's last words. Left for dead in the middle of the road, Jackson Devereaux's good buddy had slipped into a coma. Well, Jackson wouldn't let them get away with it, once the ace newspaper reporter uncovered who they were. He'd start with the lovely Alyssa LeBlanc, the only eyewitness to the crime. Problem was, she hated Jackson---why?---as much as she hated being back in the Louisiana bayou. Unfortunately, the truth lay deep in the bayou's belly. And whether they liked it or not, Alyssa had to lead the way.

Excerpts

Even Mother Nature hated Lagniappe, Louisiana.Ominous fall storm clouds hung low in the sky.A bright spear of lightning flickered across the sky, then the earth trembled--positives and negatives of nature colliding.The glass doors to the parish hospital rattled. Alyssa LeBlanc darted into the old building, drenched and shivering. Why hadn't she thought to bring her umbrella? The smell of disinfectant and illness assaulted her senses and memories. She almost gagged. Her heels tapping briskly, she made her way to the nurses' station. She imagined death dogging her every step."Pardon me, what room is Marie LeBlanc in?"The nurse glanced over the counter, eyes hardening and the corners of her mouth slicing down. "Visiting hours are long over." Her gaze drifted over Alyssa, disapproval lining her plump face as she took in Alyssa's chic business slacks and silk blouse.Alyssa straightened her shoulders, despite the burning cramp caused from six hours behind the wheel. "I was called--she's my grandmother." She offered a shaky smile. Maybe Nurse Ratched would have a heart.Wonder of wonders, her tactic worked. The older woman let out a heavy sigh and softened her expression. "Room 112, just down the hall to the right. You can only see her for a minute.""Merci." Alyssa turned on her four-inch heels and strode down the hall. Not even back for an hour and already falling into the old speech patterns. She shook her head. No, she wouldn't let Lagniappe smother her again. Not when she had a hot assignment that could launch her career waiting back home.Halting at the door of Room 112, she reached in her pocket for her lip balm. She applied a thick coat, paying special attention to the burning scar just on the edge of her lower lip, and slid the tube back into the pocket of her slacks before pushing open the door.Light spilled into the darkened room from the hall behind her. Only a small beam glowed over the hospital bed. Two machines on either side--their beeps low and hypnotic--illuminated the patient lying flat. Alyssa's legs moved as if the floor were swampland. Her heartbeat pounded in her throat as she studied the frail form lying so still. Why hadn't her sister called sooner? Their grandmother looked as if she were knocking on death's door.A strange feeling rose within her, enveloping her like lichen on bayou trees. A sense of warning, of caution. She shook off the sensation and picked her way across the room on tiptoe. The metal railing felt cold to her touch, but no chillier than the regret seeping into her spirit. "Oh, Grandmere."Her grandmother's eyes flicked open.Had she spoken aloud? "Alyssa, ma chere, is that you?" Grandmere lifted a gnarled hand. "Oui." She took her grandmother's hand in her own. When had Grandmere's skin turned as thin as parchment?"I came as soon as CoCo called.""I told her not to. I'm fine. This is just a little episode." The pale skin beneath the tan from the outdoors told a different story. Alyssa swallowed. "I'm glad she did." Her voice hitched, but maybe Grandmere wouldn't notice."Ma chere, I'm well. She shouldn't have bothered you. I know you're busy with your paper." The coloring wasn't the only thing off about Grandmere--those mere three sentences stole her breath. She shifted on the bed, a wheezing noise hissing from her chest. Grandmere reached for the rail with her free hand, the one with an IV.Alyssa helped lift her grandmother into a sitting position, her head and her heart warring. She needed to pursue her career, and she had. She'd worked her way up from obits and social events to investigative reporter. Her mother had been the star photojournalist for the New Orleans Times-Picayune. One day, Alyssa would nab the position they'd denied her there twice. But seeing her grandmother like this...A cough racked her grandmother's body, bouncing off the drab white walls and filling Alyssa wi