Bayou Paradox Read Online Free PDF Page A

rolled to a stop, followed by a truck with the gas company’s logo. Tara quickly unlocked the desk drawer, grabbed the master ledger and shoved it and the three pieces of paper into her backpack. She slammed down the windows and pulled the door behind her just as Deputy Anderson paused by her car.
    â€œWhat’re you doing here, Ms. LeBlanc?”
    â€œJust came by to get some of my things I’d left here.” She took deliberate steps to her Mustang. Spook whooshed through the cat door and scampered off into the bayou. “And I needed to feed Tanty’s cat. Poor thing’s bowl was empty.”
    â€œUh, you shouldn’t be around here anymore. Not until the sheriff clears it.”
    She tossed her backpack into the passenger seat through the open window and crossed her arms over her chest. “Is this a crime scene now?” Maybe, just maybe, they’d gotten a test result back and the sheriff would take her seriously now.
    â€œNot exactly, but until we’re sure there’s no gas leak or something, you need to steer clear of the area.”
    Tara snorted and slipped behind the steering wheel. It figured they would still blow off her beliefs. “I’m not going to let the cat starve. I’ll be leaving now, but I’ll come back tomorrow to feed Spook.”
    The deputy stared at her as she turned the car and headed home. She glanced in her rearview mirror and found him still standing in the driveway. Probably wondering if he should’ve inspected her pack.
    Too late. They wouldn’t know what to do with the information, anyway.
    Her stomach rumbled as she parked in front of her house. She’d skipped breakfast, wanting to get to the hospital to check on Tanty. Grandmere had said she’d make crawfish-stuffed pistolettes for lunch, and Tara’s mouth watered at the thought. She bounded up the creaking stairs and flew into the house.
    No enticing smell greeted her. The house stood as silent as a tomb.
    Tara stuck her head into the kitchen and took in the scene. Counters wiped clean. Cabinets shut tight. Towel neatly folded by the stove.
    Nope, Grandmere hadn’t even made the preparations for the pistolettes. Very odd. They weren’t exactly something whipped up in less than fifteen minutes. The coffeepot’s “on” button glowed. Tara punched it off. Two coffee cups sat in the sink beside two plates and forks. Grandmere’d obviously had company this morning. Who?
    â€œGrandmere,” Tara called as she headed down the hall.
    No reply. A freaky sense of déjà vu crept over Tara. So similar to…yesterday.
    Quickening her pace, Tara called out again. “Grandmere. Where are you?” She pushed open her grandmother’s door. The bed, neatly made, sat empty, just like the rest of the room.
    The icy chill returned, settling between her shoulder blades. Her head pounded as her pulse spiked. She flew into the hall, her feet moving of their own volition.
    Tara rushed to the bathroom. The door was cracked. She pushed it fully open. “Grandmere?”
    Her heart leaped into her throat. Her grandmother lay sprawled over the sink. Tara ran forward and eased the old woman into her lap. “Noooo!”
    She felt desperately for a pulse against the panic and fear hammering in her chest.
    Faint and thready, but detectable.
    Again the cold encased Tara’s heart, and the feeling came through loud and clear—someone had done this to Grandmere.
    She reached for the cell phone in her pocket but kept her eyes glued to Grandmere’s face.
    Her colorless, unconscious face.
    Â 
    The late afternoon sun kissed the top of the hospital’s roof. The sheriff stared into the sky, his thoughts and emotions uneasy. Another elderly Lagniappe citizen had fallen into a coma for no apparent reason.
    Bubba entered the hospital again, his mind reeling. No test results had come back on why his aunt had lost consciousness, and now Marie