04 - Cry Wolf by Tami Hoag

Author:Tami Hoag [Hoag, Tami]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, Fiction, thriller, Mystery & Detective, General, Romance, Contemporary, Serial Murders, Legal, Women Lawyers, Women Sleuths, Louisiana, Detective and Mystery Stories, Romantic Suspense Novels
ISBN: 9781469213187
Google: 9bfVd-GmVdUC
Amazon: 1469213184
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 1993-01-02T06:00:00+00:00

They went out in a pirogue Laurel had more than a few reservations about. Slender and shallow as a pea pod, it was made of weathered cypress planking and bobbed like a cork on the inky, oily surface of the bayou. Laurel stood on the dock for a long moment, looking dubious, as Jack loaded fishing gear into the bow.

"Are you sure this thing is safe?"

"Oh, absolutely," he drawled, adding a cooler to the cargo in the nose of the boat. The pirogue dipped and swayed on the water as if protesting even that slight load. Unconcerned, Jack climbed in, braced his feet, and reached a hand up to help her aboard. "An old friend of mine made this pirogue for me. As he would say, 'This boat, she rides the dew.' "

Laurel swallowed hard as she stepped down into the craft and felt it bob beneath her. She grabbed hold of Jack's biceps for an instant to steady herself and to pull him with her if she went overboard. "Was he sober at the time?"

"Hard to say," Jack mused, easing her down on the boat's plank seat. He jammed a red USL Ragin' Cajuns baseball cap down on her head and stepped deftly over the seat to take up the push-pole at the stern. "Ol' Lucky Doucet, he used to be some kind of wild."

He pushed off, and they moved away from the dock, the pirogue seeming to skate across the water, as graceful as a blade on ice. Laurel took a deep breath and willed herself to relax.

"Used to be?" Tipping the oversize cap back on her head, she twisted around to look at him. "Is he dead?"

"Naw, he's married. Got himself a beautiful wife, a little daughter, another baby on the way."

"Busy man," Laurel said dryly.

Happy man, Jack thought, sinking the fork of the push-pole into the muddy bottom and sending the pirogue gliding forward. A hard, hollow ball of longing lodged in his chest, taking up valuable air space, and he scowled and did his best to smash it with a mental mallet of self-punishment. He'd had his chance, and he'd blown it in the worst possible way. He didn't deserve another.

Pushing the dark thoughts from his mind, he turned his attention on Laurel and all the little puzzle pieces he had yet to find to complete his picture of her. She sat on the hard plank seat of the pirogue with the posture of a debutante, her gaze scanning the far bank of the bayou, where an alligator was sunning itself. Even in her baggy clothes and the too-big cap she looked feminine and graceful. He shook his head at that, a wry smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

She wasn't his type. Not at all. These days he usually went for curvy, carefree girls with big breasts and uncomplicated brains, women who wanted nothing more from him than a good tussle between the sheets. He didn't know what Laurel Chandler would want. She

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