Bayou Corruption Read Online Free PDF

control. Their nosing around could hurt Jackson. He needed to be totally undercover on the docks to get to the truth. How would he handle the agents poking around?
    Jackson Devereaux intended to find out exactly what was going on in Lagniappe.
    Purpose dogging his every step, he hurried out into the rain to his truck. Bubba wouldn’t want him to give up his undercover gig. Now more than ever, he needed answers.
    The truck tires sang on the wet pavement as he cut through Lagniappe and hit the highway. Ten minutes and he’d be at the dock. He glanced in his rearview mirror. Between the rain and the stress, he looked the role of grunt laborer.
    Jackson parked his truck and ambled to the dock. A bushy-bearded man a couple of inches shorter than Jackson approached. “Can I help ya?” he hollered when Jackson reached the dock.
    â€œFrank Thibodeaux recommended me for a temp job.”
    The man sidled up to Jackson. The stench of chewing tobacco filtered around him. “Doing what?”
    â€œLoading and unloading. Anything for pay.”
    â€œHuh. Yeah, he mentioned it.” The man’s gaze drifted up and down Jackson, taking in his ratty jeans and hole-filled flannel shirt. He held out his hand. “Name’s Burl. I’m the night foreman here.”
    Burl. Wow, did that name ever fit.
    Jackson shook his hand. “Jax Delaney.” Good thing he still had papers reflecting such a name. Who knew having an alias could come in handy so often?
    â€œEver done any dock work, Jax?”
    â€œYes, sir. Down in N’Awlins.”
    â€œMember of a union?”
    â€œNo, sir. I do scab work.”
    Burl nodded and passed him a pair of leather work gloves. “Let’s go ahead and get ya to work. If ya do a good job, I’ll put ya on the payroll tomorrow.”
    â€œYes, sir.” Jackson gripped the coarse gloves. Too bad he didn’t have to fill out paperwork before being put on the dock. He’d been counting on that. Oh, well. Go with it.
    But he’d keep his eyes open for when opportunity knocked.

THREE
    H arsh lights. Beeps. Voices.
    Her heart raced. Oh, the sting. The pain.
    The tears ran down her cheeks. Someone swiped them away with a rough cloth. Her face burned, especially just below her lip.
    Scorching. White-hot throbbing.
    A doctor prying her eyes open to shine a light in them. Bright, too bright. His voice calm, soothing, asking her if she remembered the wreck.
    The crash.
    Momee! Papa!
    Alyssa sat upright, the sheet twisted into a tight wad at her feet. Another nightmare. She shook her head. It’d been years since she’d had one. Three, to be exact—the last time she’d visited. Just being in Lagniappe brought her nightmares back full force.
    The bayou’s chief export was pain. Always had been, always would be.
    Alyssa moved to the bedroom window and watched the wind rip dried leaves from the limbs. The storm had passed through the night, escorting in a cold front. Alyssa shook her head. Yeah, right. A cold front in Lagniappe? Not hardly. Then again, she’d have said there weren’t any attractive, good men here, either. Well, aside from her sister’s boyfriend.
    The image of that handsome man, Jackson Devereaux, kept flittering to her mind. His kindness in pulling her car out of the ditch. So courteous, despite wanting to go check on his friend. His image refused to be banished from her mind. Just as it had for the majority of the night, making her sleep restless and putting her in a cranky mood. Probably partially causing her nightmare.
    Where had she seen him before?
    Movement on the bank of the bayou caught her attention. CoCo in her airboat, checking on her beloved alligators. Why her sister wasted a good college education studying the prehistoric reptiles was beyond her realm of comprehension. Didn’t CoCo see the bayou would forever be doomed?
    Alyssa turned from the window, letting the pink curtains drift back into