Page 12 of Stuck Bayou

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” she greeted.

She wasn’t shocked to see Zander Landry here. It seemed he and Theo were always up in each other’s business.

Though why she and her solo slumber party on the bayou had to beTheo’sbusiness wasn’t completely clear.

Anyonecould have driven her out to this cabin, she was sure.

He was absolutely going to enjoy this far too much. She knew he was expecting her to take one look at the place, turn around, and rescind her entire plan.

She was absolutely not going to do that.

And just to make it even more annoying to him when his plan went to hell, she’d worn a ridiculous outfit to this meet-up.

Oh, sure, the October weather in Louisiana wasdefinitelywarm enough for shorts. But she’d been around Autre long enough to know that you didn’t wearshortshorts, and heels on an airboat. There was far too much sun and dirt, and too many uneven surfaces and creepy-crawlies for those to be practical.

And no one would wear white to go onto the bayou on purpose. On top or bottom.

Airboats on the bayou actually had a few things in common with the subway in Manhattan—you needed to watch where you stepped, there were all kinds of things that could stain your clothes, and you definitely needed to hang on if you were standing up.

No, sunburns and mosquito bites weren’t a risk underneath the city, but she was not one of those women who wore heels to walk the sidewalks or subway platforms in the city.Thosewere tough ladies. Tuck them in her bag and put them on later? Sure. But fashion was not more important than comfort.

Unless you were trying to annoy a big, bearded, broody bayou boy.

She could already see the wheels in Theo’s head turning.Crazy city chick. She’s gonna last five minutes.

She couldn’t wait to prove him wrong.

“So, are we going or what?” she asked. She looked at Zander. “Or areyougiving me a ride, Officer Landry? That’s so nice.”

“Just on my coffee break,” Zander said, lifting his cup. “And making sure I’m not going to have to do any extra reports today. Murder takesa lotof paperwork.”

Savannah looked at Theo. “If you’ve been telling him your plan, it’s premeditated. That’s the worst kind, you know.”

“New York, I know that bayou even better than Landry does—no body, no crime,” Theo said easily.

Savannah worked on not laughing. Dammit, why did the guy have to be witty too? It was bad enough that he was wearing his uniform today.

She always got a little warmer around him. She’d seen him in blue jeans a lot and she’d seen him in athletic shorts a couple of times. He’d almost killed her one Sunday morning at Ellie’s when he’d come in wearing gray sweatpants. But there was something about his uniform that made her heart race even faster than all of those.

And the everyday uniform was nothing special. It was black boots, ugly olive green pants with dorky big pockets on the sides of both legs, a clunky black belt with a bunch of pouches and stuff strapped to it, and an olive green shirt. Today’s was short-sleeved and looked like a polo shirt that was made out of polyester with three buttons at the throat, a collar, and patches stitched on both sleeves, and the left chest. The right side also had a patch that read T. Taggart.

He also had a gold pin that was a simple metal bar pinned to his shirt, his badge, and a pair of Aviator sunglasses.

None of itshould have been sexy.

But on Theo Taggart, it made her want to call himOfficerTaggart. And tell him she’d been bad.

She didn’t even know if the agents of the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries department were called “officer”. She thought she’d heard someone call him Lieutenant once, actually. But she hadn’t asked anyone about it. Because she shouldn’t be that interested in Theo Taggart.

She had, however, Googled the department later that night, and they did have Lieutenants.

“Well, everyone I know knows what I’m doing today, that my last known location was right here, andyouwere the last one to see me alive, so good luck to you,” she said.

“Circumstantial,” he replied with a lift of one big shoulder. “Not to mention that pretty much every single law enforcement official for about eighty miles owes me a favor of some kind.”

She plopped her sunglasses back down over her eyes so he wouldn’t be able to read any amusement in them. “Are you admitting that you would bribe or blackmail your way out of a conviction?”

He straightened away from his truck. She couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses either, but she knew he was looking directly at her. “Any recording device you’ve got on you—though I have no idea where you’d be hiding it—”

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