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Colt climbed into his truck and watched as Jadyn guided a distraught Mildred and Maryse to Maryse’s truck. Both women were pale and not even bothering to disguise their immense worry for Raissa. Jadyn glanced at him before slipping into the driver’s seat, her concern no less obvious but masked with a look of determination.
As they pulled out of the parking lot, Colt started his truck. He had no doubts about Jadyn’s determination to find Raissa. In the short time she’d been in Mudbug, she’d formed hard and fast bonds with Maryse and Mildred. No doubt, she’d do anything to protect those women and that included trying to save someone she’d never even met.
No, he wasn’t worried at all about her commitment to the investigation, but he did have doubts about her qualifications to set foot into something like this. Colt had seen sordid and dirty, and the recent happenings in Mudbug had made him seriously question his decision to return to his hometown. He’d thought leaving New Orleans would mean leaving all the worst of criminal offenses behind him, but he’d been wrong. Dead wrong.
But this—the potential kidnapping of a federal agent, attempting to murder another—this was a level of callousness and ego that he’d never believed could exist in such a small place, even after everything that had gone down weeks before. He squeezed the steering wheel, looking out at the sun rising over the line of cypress trees behind the hospital.
What was happening to his town?
He put his truck in drive and headed to the place where Luc had found Zach. With any luck, he wouldn’t run into agency politics, and they’d let him stick around.
Colt counted at least fifteen federal vehicles, including two K9 units, lining both sides of Mill Highway as he parked behind one of the vans. He stepped out onto the weedy side of the road and made his way down to where a group of men were gathered. One of the dog handlers was the first man he came upon.
“Who’s in charge here?” he asked the handler.
“Special Agent Ross,” the handler replied and pointed to a man talking on the phone about twenty feet away.
“Thanks,” Colt said.
Ross finished his phone call right as Colt stepped in front of him. His rigid posture screamed former military and he eyed Colt up and down, as if mentally assessing his threat level.
“I’m Colt Bertrand, the local sheriff.” He extended his hand.
“Special Agent Thomas Ross,” Ross said and gave his hand a firm shake.
“I’m also a personal friend of Zach and Raissa.”
Ross nodded. “You been to the hospital?”
“Just came from there.”
“How’s Zach doing?”
“It’s touch and go.”
Ross’s jaw flexed. “I’ve never met the agents in person, but their reputation at the bureau precedes them. Rest assured that the bureau is putting every asset available into this investigation. We won’t settle for anything short of finding Agent Bordeaux alive and well.”
The man’s words and demeanor didn’t leave any doubt that he fully intended to live up to what he said. Colt had worked with this sort of man before. He’d pursue an angle to the ends of the earth to get an answer and would allow nothing to come between him and a solution. But Colt also knew that no one short of God could promise to return Raissa alive and be 100 percent certain they could live up to those words.
“I’m aware I don’t have any jurisdiction here,” Colt said, “and I don’t want to get in the way, but I know these swamps as well as any other man in Mudbug. I can’t track like a hound, but if they indicate a direction, I can tell you what’s located in front of you. I can tell you which way all these channels run and where they merge and end.”
Ross studied him a couple of seconds, then nodded. “I’m not foolish enough to turn down help from an expert in these parts. Especially not on something this important. Come with me. If you think of anything we need to know along the way, offer it up.”
“Thanks,” Colt said, as enormous relief swept over him. “I really appreciate you letting me stick around.”
“I’d be asking the same if it was my friend out there.”
Ross whistled and waved a hand at the men that were milling around. “I want you to split into two groups. Each group will take a dog and proceed in opposite directions along the edge of the highway. Agent Thompson, do you have the clothing?”
“Yes, sir.” A young agent standing nearby held up two Baggies with garments inside.
“You’re positive the garments belong to Agent Bordeaux and not Agent Blanchard?”
“Unless Agent Blanchard wears women’s undergarments, I’m sure.”
Ross smiled. “Seems a safe bet. Let the dog take the lead. I want everyone but the handler to case the edges of the swamp, looking for any sign of passage.”
One of the men raised a hand. “How far down do we go before circling back?”
“How far is Mudbug?” Ross asked Colt.
“About ten miles to the city limits from here.”
Ross nodded. “My team will cover ten miles moving west. Going east, the nearest structure is a diner that’s about thirty minutes’ drive. I doubt Agent Blanchard chased a car thirty miles, so cover ten miles east then circle around and cover the other side of the highway on the way back until the teams meet up.”
“Should we check the swamp?” one of the men asked.
“Yes, but not deeply. If you get an indication from the dog, call me and wait for me to arrive with the other dog before pursuing the lead. Does everyone understand your directive?”
They all nodded.
“I don’t think I need to remind any of you that this one is personal. I know we all give 100 percent to our jobs every day, but today, I’m asking you all to double that.” He hoisted a backpack over his shoulders. “Let’s get to it.”
Colt fell in step beside Ross, moving west down the side of the highway. Ross spoke briefly to the dog handler, then headed for the tree line behind the other men. “If you don’t mind,” he said, “I’d like us to step inside about ten feet. The ground looks softer where the sun doesn’t reach. Might be easier to see footprints.”
“If there are any,” Colt said.
Ross nodded and stepped into the brush. “You got any thoughts about this?”
“Me? Raissa and Zach never talked about their cases.”
Ross paused for a second, pinning his gaze on Colt’s. “Home office doesn’t think this has anything to do with a case.”
“They’re sure?”
“Seem to be,” Ross said and started walking again. “Agents Bordeaux and Blanchard have been working the same case for the last four months. I wasn’t involved and can’t provide you any details of what I was told, but I will say that the men they were after are safely locked away awaiting federal indictment.”
“No fringe elements seeking revenge?”
“It was a small operation and everyone went down in the bust.”
Colt rolled that information over in his mind, trying to make sense of it. He’d assumed since he talked to Luc at the hospital that whatever had happened to Zach and Raissa was tied to their work at the bureau, but Ross was telling him straight-out that wasn’t the case. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that the problem could be a local one, and now that it was front and center, he was even more disturbed than ever.
Realizing he’d never responded to Ross’s original question, he shook his head. “If this isn’t about the case they were working, I have no idea what to think.”
“You got no problem around here with carjackings, that sort of thing?”
“This isn’t New Orleans. We’ve had more than our share of unusual crime in the past year, but nothing like that. Besides which, who would carjack a six-year-old Cadillac? Hell, most every truck in the parish is worth more than that. Some of the bass boats cost half as much as my house.”
“So two federal agents just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when a brand-new criminal decided to launch his business?”
Colt’s jaw flexed involuntarily. He knew what Ross was implying but damned if he could find an argument to the contrary. The reality was that a hell of a lot of coincidences would have to happen in order for things to play out this way. And if there was one thing Colt had a problem with, it was coincidence.
“I hear what you’re saying,” Colt said, “but I’m being straight with you. I can’t connect this with anything I’ve run across lately. And if something was going on in my jurisdiction and Raissa and Zach found out about it, they would have told me.”
Ross studied him for a couple of seconds, then nodded, apparently satisfied that he was telling the truth. “Well, Sheriff, clearly something is going on here. Whether it’s in your jurisdiction or not remains to be seen. But for now, we’re moving forward on the assumption that Raissa and Zach walked into the middle of something.”
Colt nodded, but the uneasy feeling he’d gotten when he coupled Ross’s information with his own didn’t subside, even a bit. Granted, Raissa had disappeared outside of his assigned territory, but he didn’t think for a minute that made it any less his problem. He fell in step next to Ross, hoping Jadyn was able to figure out how to make him a contractor for the game warden’s office.
For the moment, Ross was being polite, but if this search yielded nothing, he’d call for more backup, possibly even the state police, who had far more resources than Colt did. Unfortunately, Colt’s experience with the state police had been nothing like his experience with Ross. They pretty much thought anyone but state law enforcement officers were a bunch of unqualified hicks and wouldn’t allow or appreciate any interference in their investigation. The last time Colt had inserted himself in state police business, he’d spent two days in jail for the privilege.
He looked over at the highway and watched as the bloodhound strolled on the side of the road, completely relaxed. It wasn’t a good sign. If Raissa had exited the road anywhere nearby, that dog would pick up on the scent as if it were right under his nose. If they’d driven out of this area, Colt had no idea what he could do to help. He wouldn’t even know where to start.
And if they were in the area, he could only hope that Jadyn could get both of them legitimate access to everywhere they needed to search. As he thought of Jadyn, his mind flashed back to the day before, when he was standing at the front window of the general store as she walked across the street from the hotel to the café. No one had a right to look that good in blue jeans.
He’d hoped his attraction to her had been a temporary thing—something born of near death and high emotions—but he was fooling himself. The fact of the matter was Jadyn St. James was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, and her courage and capability with a gun might just make her the best-looking woman on the face of the earth.
To a man determined to go down in the bachelor hall of fame, Jadyn was kryptonite.
Since the big showdown at the cemetery, he’d managed to put some distance between them. He’d nod or wave if he saw her, as he did with any other Mudbug resident, but he didn’t linger to chat and he tried to avoid the café when he knew she was inside. All of which made him feel like a coward, but as of yet, he hadn’t figured out another way around it. Not until the feelings went away.
And now, he might be signed up to be alone in the swamps with her every day.
He sighed. If this situation could get any more complicated, he didn’t know how.