Chaos in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law Mystery/Romance Series) Read online

  He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from it. Maybe he’d been hoping that it would feel all wrong, and then he could apologize for his presumptuousness and things could go back to normal. Normal for Mudbug, anyway. But instead, that one kiss had terrified him. And that was something a Southern man did not admit, especially when he was the sheriff.

  Fortunately, he’d had to leave the next day for a law enforcement conference that had lasted a week. He’d hoped the time away would clear his head of Jadyn, but instead, he found his thoughts constantly drifting back to her—during workshops and dinners, and even in his dreams. On the drive back to Mudbug, he’d finally decided it was time to put up or shut up. Either he believed all women were bloodsucking vipers like Maria or he believed a woman could be good-looking and capable, and still be warm-blooded.

  This was the first time he’d seen the very warm-blooded Jadyn St. James since he returned from the conference. And aside from the problem the wrecked boat presented, Colt was almost relieved that their first meeting would be over business. Working a job together was a much better way to ease back into interaction with Jadyn—get him on firm footing until he could decide how to approach the elephant in the room.

  “Morning, gentlemen,” she said as she stepped up.

  Colt introduced her to Harley, whose eyebrows lifted when he caught the “new game warden” part, but he was smart enough to keep any opinions he had on the matter to himself.

  “You thinking it got caught in the storm?” Jadyn asked.

  Colt nodded and recounted the conversation he and Harley had about the wind speed and direction.

  Jadyn blew out a breath, and Colt knew she’d already processed the variables and come up with the same conclusions he had. That was another thing—Jadyn was smart, which made it impossible to dismiss her as just another good-looking broad.

  “Can you put out a request for any missing persons bulletins for the surrounding areas?” she asked him.

  “I’ll put it on the wire and make some phone calls as soon as I get back to the office.”

  “Great. I’ll give Marty a call and see if he can get this out of the cove and towed to his shop. Maybe I’ll be able to find something in it that tells me who it belonged to.”

  “Hell,” Harley said, “if the guy’s missing, surely someone’s looking for him.”

  “Really?” Colt asked. “If you went missing, how long before someone would know?”

  Harley frowned. “Well, now that I think about it, I guess wouldn’t no one know until I missed a fishing tour. Yeah, I see your point. Hey, maybe I should get one of them girlfriend things…so’s she could set up an alarm if I didn’t come home.”

  Colt smiled and clapped Harley on the back. “I think you should get right on that. I bet there’s a girlfriend thing just waiting for you to show up and sweep her off her feet.”

  Jadyn’s lips quivered and Colt could tell she was trying not to smile.

  “How about you?” Harley asked, giving Jadyn the once-over. “You got a man?”

  Jadyn’s lips and the rest of her froze and her eyes widened. “Me? No, I’m not in the market for a man.”

  Harley nodded. “You go for women. I figured as much, being that you have a man’s job. Oh well, guess I’ll have to check out Pete’s tonight. Bet I could hook me a good one there.”

  Jadyn’s mouth dropped open as though she was going to respond, but she must have decided it was pointless, or safer, because a second later, she closed her mouth and pulled out her cell phone. “I’m going to give Marty a call and head back to town. I’ll let you know if I find something on the boat. Nice meeting you, Harley.”

  “Nice meeting you,” Harley said and shook his head as he watched her walk back toward her Jeep. “Damn shame about the woman thing. I bet she’d look good in a cast net and rubber boots.”

  Colt grimaced. “Yeah, it’s the bedroom outfit of choice for men all over the world. Listen, I best get going. I appreciate you reporting this.”

  “’Course,” Harley said, but his gaze was still on Jadyn, probably mentally dressing her in different fishing equipment.

  Before he could offer up another ensemble, Colt headed for his truck, giving Jadyn a wave before she pulled away. With any luck, the shrimper would be having coffee and cussing at his insurance adjuster. Colt gave the boat once last glance before climbing into his truck.

  The thing was, Mudbug hadn’t seen luck in a long, long time.

  Chapter Two

  Jadyn’s heart pounded in her chest as she drove down the narrow dirt road that led back to the highway. But her uptick in pulse had nothing to do with her missing boat captain and everything to do with Colt Bertrand. Since her arrival in Mudbug, her job and Colt’s had been intertwined, forcing her to spend more time with him than she was comfortable with.

  Colt was everything a red-blooded Southern woman wanted in a man and probably more than most could handle. He was gorgeous to look at, built like an athlete, smart, hardworking, and one of her personal requirements, deadly. The last thing she’d come to Mudbug looking for was a man, but Jadyn could no longer deny her attraction for the sheriff.

  The last time their jobs had crossed paths, things had ended in a gun-slinging showdown that had almost gotten them both killed. Then Colt had kissed her and despite the lack of bullet wounds, Jadyn was certain she’d been shot. Just not a flesh wound.

  Her heart, on the other hand, had clenched as though it was in a vise. Then he’d left almost immediately for a conference and she’d spent the past week watching reruns on television and taking cold showers. Colt certainly knew how to get to a woman. That one kiss had marked the moment she’d given up completely on pretending she didn’t want Colt Bertrand in every way possible.

  But was it worth the risk to go for it?

  Granted, if things didn’t go the way she wanted, the only casualty would be her ego. But romantic rejection was the worst kind of ego bruise. Jadyn would be the first to call herself tough, but she was still human. Wanting someone who didn’t want you back was the worst kind of suckage.

  And that was the crux of the issue—Colt seemed to blow hot and cold. At times, Jadyn was certain of his interest. It was as if it were written in bold lettering across his face. Then just when she thought he was going to make a move, he’d retreat. She supposed she could give him the benefit of the doubt on this last one, as he had to attend the conference for his job. It wasn’t his fault that they had a showdown with the bad guy and then he had to leave for work.

  She frowned. But had he kissed her because it was an emotionally charged moment in which they’d almost died? Or had he kissed her because he wanted to kiss her? She’d hoped when he returned from the conference she’d be able to tell, but so far, he’d been back two days and the only contact he’d made with her was over the mystery boat.

  Maybe he’s tired.

  That was certainly possible. Those professional conferences were often exhausting.

  Maybe he changed his mind.

  She sighed, certain that somewhere between “he’s tired” and “he changed his mind” was the truth. The question was, which direction did the truth lean toward—ultimate bliss or decided embarrassment? More than anything, Jadyn wished she could get the answer to that question without putting herself out there. Without risking ultimate humiliation.

  If she were a normal girl, she’d have a group of crafty girlfriends with clever ideas, just like the ones she saw on television shows. They’d be able to draw Colt’s feelings out of him without him even knowing and with no exposure for Jadyn. But she was far from normal. And although she could quite happily—and surprisingly—claim a group of girlfriends, she wouldn’t put Mildred, Maryse, and Helena in the “crafty” club, especially when it came to men.

  Which left her with sticking her neck out or waiting. Patience had never been one of her strong suits, but then neither had volunteering for a beheading. She sighed again as she pulled in front of the café. She didn’t have to make a dec
ision right now. In fact, the worst time to make a decision was before you’d had coffee.

  As she hopped out of her Jeep, Maryse bounded up the sidewalk waving and looking more like a teenager than the brainy scientist she was. Jadyn couldn’t help but smile. As a botanist, Maryse was a serious professional, but once she left the lab, she exhibited a tiny bit of immaturity that translated to playful and passionate. With most women, it would be an annoying combination, but with Maryse, it was sort of charming. Probably because it was genuine.

  “Jadyn!” Maryse called. “Are you going to have breakfast? I desperately need a cinnamon roll, or I may not make it through the day.”

  Jadyn smiled. Sometimes Maryse and Helena were more alike than either of them would be willing to admit. “I’m definitely having breakfast, but I’ll leave the life-changing cinnamon rolls to you.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re still watching what you eat.” Maryse rolled her eyes as they walked into the café. “I can’t think of anything more depressing than counting calories.”

  “That’s because you’re blessed with one of those fat-repellent bodies,” Jadyn said, a bit grudgingly. Since she’d arrived in Mudbug, Jadyn had watched Maryse consume more calories in one sitting than a lumberjack did in a week, and yet not a single extra pound ever appeared on her.

  Maryse grinned as they slid into their regular booth in the back corner and gave their breakfast order to the waitress. “Luc says I talk it all off.”

  “Maybe when he gets home, but you’re alone all those hours in the lab.”

  “I sing. Loudly. And I dance. Last week, the pest control guy caught me doing the samba with a push broom.”

  Jadyn laughed. “I would have liked to see the look on his face.”

  “Oh, it was classic, especially after I told him I’d been this way since the last time he sprayed.”

  “That’s awful! And hilarious. Did you give him a heart attack?”

  “He got all flustered and started assuring me the chemicals they use aren’t toxic.”

  “So what did you say?”

  “Nothing. I straddled the broom and started riding it around the lab like it was a stick horse. I swear he might have made two squirts of that stuff before leaving.”

  A clear mental picture of Maryse riding the push broom flashed through Jadyn’s mind, and she couldn’t help but envy her cousin’s spirit. “I bet you were hell when you were a kid.”

  Maryse sobered and shook her head. “Not at all. I was mostly a drag. My mom’s dying shook me up. I mean, I had Mildred and Sabine, but…”

  A waved of sympathy washed through Jadyn. “They weren’t your mother.”

  “No. And then I hooked up with Hank—biggest mistake of my life, but I guess I wouldn’t be where I am now if I hadn’t married him. Helena couldn’t have left me the land, giving me enough income to fund my own lab, and Luc would have never come to Mudbug, and I would have missed out on the best part of my life.”

  The expression on her cousin’s face when she spoke about Luc never ceased to tug at Jadyn’s heart. Her cousin and the sexy DEA agent were so obviously enamored with and completely perfect for each other that it was almost depressing. No matter how hard she tried, Jadyn couldn’t imagine herself in that level of bliss with a man. Perhaps it was a state of existence limited to only a few lucky ones.

  “I’m really happy for you,” Jadyn said. “God knows, you’ve gone through a rash of crap to get to where you are now.”

  “Did someone call me?” Helena popped through the café wall and into the booth next to Maryse.

  Maryse nodded. “Jadyn said ‘rash of crap.’ That must be what tipped you off.”

  “Cute,” Helena said. “You two aren’t going to rag on me the entire time I’m here, are you?”

  “That depends,” Maryse said, “on how long you’re staying. And are you wearing…is that Hello Kitty pajamas?”

  It took Jadyn a couple seconds to figure out that Maryse was right. The fabric was stretched so tightly across Helena’s more than ample body that it had been too distorted for her to recognize, but now that she looked closely, that burst of pink was indeed a bow.

  “Can’t you at least make them the right size?” Maryse asked.

  “Don’t you think I’ve tried?” Helena groused. “I practiced for hours last night, but never could get them in a larger size.”

  “Maybe they don’t exist in a larger size in real life,” Jadyn suggested, “so you can’t make them appear.”

  Helena frowned. “Hmmmm. That’s an interesting thought. I’m going to have to test that theory later.”

  Maryse stared at her in dismay. “I can’t wait to see what kind of trouble that will bring.”

  “You’re ragging again,” Helena said.

  “And I’m not done,” Maryse said. “What the hell were you thinking, stealing meat and putting a deer head in someone’s bed? That’s awful, Helena, even for you.”

  “I just spent the last thirty minutes paying for it by doing laundry and scrubbing the bathtub with bleach. The fumes almost made me pass out.”

  “Ha,” Maryse said. “If only it were that easy.”

  “I don’t know why everyone is being so pissy about it,” Helena groused. “He was a lousy cheater anyway, just like Harold.”

  Maryse’s expression softened a little, and Jadyn remembered what her cousin had told her about Harold Henry. Helena’s husband had made a career out of banging cheap women in even cheaper motels, causing Helena to adjust her will and leave him one single item of inheritance—the fleabag motel where he’d spent most of his cheating time. A prenuptial agreement prevented Helena from divorcing him without paying him a fortune, and she had been determined that he get nothing, even if it meant dying before he did just to insult him.

  Jadyn figured, even if Helena had long since ceased caring about Harold, it had to cut pretty deep that the person you married had that much disrespect for you. So she guessed a little sympathy was in order. If she’d been in Helena’s situation, she might have been tempted to do the same thing. Not saying she would have, but she understood the temptation.

  “Okay,” Maryse said, “I’ll give you a pass on this one, but only because he was a lying, cheating bastard and she was a floozy. But Mildred gets to make up her own mind on this.”

  “Fair enough,” Helena said. “So what’s up?”

  “Nothing you’d understand with me,” Maryse said. “How’s the swamp holding up, Jadyn?”

  “The swamp appears to be fine, but it may have claimed a victim. A fisherman found a shrimp boat washed up in one of the coves this morning, probably from the storm last night. The planking with the boat name is torn off and no sign of the boat captain, but we’re hoping he bailed and hiked it home.”

  Maryse frowned. “I know most every boat around here. We could go to the cove after breakfast and I could take a look.”

  “You’re not supposed to be in the swamp unless absolutely necessary,” Jadyn pointed out.

  “I know.” Maryse sighed. “But this is getting old really fast. All my research is delayed because I can’t get fresh specimens. I’m practically unemployed until I can get back in the bayou.”

  For the past couple weeks, Maryse had been working out of two rooms at the hotel, in an attempt to ease Luc’s mind. One of the drug-runners he’d taken down was out of prison and gunning for the men who’d sent him there. He’d already made one personal attack on a DEA agent’s family, so Luc had asked Maryse to limit her work to well-lit, occupied places. Jadyn knew being housebound, or hotel-bound, was putting a serious crimp in Maryse’s usual routine. Until she’d met Luc, her cousin had lived alone in a tiny cabin on the bayou that could be reached only by boat. For Maryse, being in the swamp wasn’t just part of her work. It was therapeutic.

  “All that aside,” Jadyn said, “I’m having Marty tow the boat to his shop, assuming it’s possible, of course. If you wouldn’t mind taking a look at it there, I’d appreciate it.”

  �
�Of course,” Maryse said, perking up a bit.

  Jadyn knew the restlessness her cousin felt. Even something as small as looking at a boat could make the difference between feeling as if you’d done something relevant that day or feeling as if you’d wandered around accomplishing nothing.

  She glanced over at Helena and frowned. Maybe that was the ghost’s problem. Could it really be as simple as she didn’t have a purpose? Jadyn looked at the ghost. “Do you think you can check at the beauty salon and see if anyone’s talking?”

  Helena’s eyes widened. “Me? You want me to help with an investigation?”

  “If you don’t mind. Women talk about things that don’t necessarily make it to the police. For all I know, this guy could have a wife who thinks he ran off with the babysitter and isn’t reporting him missing.”

  Helena nodded. “But she’d tell her best friend, who’d blab to someone else. That’s smart. I’ll check the beauty shop and the antiques stores—see if I can find the usual gossips. If anyone’s husband is missing, they’re sure to be talking about it.”

  “Great,” Jadyn said. “Thanks.”

  The ghost looked so pleased with herself that Jadyn almost felt guilty. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? Mildred and Maryse had known Helena before she was murdered, when she was rich and essentially useless. She totally understood why they might not make the leap to Helena wanting to feel needed. If Jadyn had known her before, she might not have latched onto that idea either.

  A loud crash in the kitchen made them all jump and swivel to look in that direction. A couple seconds later, one of the cooks came stomping out of the kitchen and behind the bar.

  “I can’t work this way,” he said to the woman at the register. “There’s no bacon in the freezer. It’s your responsibility to place the food order, yet twice this week, I’ve run out of basic ingredients.”