who are so different possibly be right for each other?
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Deja Voodoo
Cajun Magic Mysteries Book #3
New York Times & USA Today
Bestselling Author
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ELLE JAMES
Chapter 1
Bayou Miste, Louisiana
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"Boyette, I hope this idea works." Edouard Fran?ois Marceau scrunched his smartphone between his ear and shoulder as he sat on the bench by the back door of the rental cottage. With his hands free, he pulled off a muddy boot and dropped it to the porch planks. "If it doesn't, we may have us one dead witness on our hands, and that bastard Primeaux will get away with murder."
"Don't worry, it'll work," Ben Boyette, his partner in the Special Criminal Investigations Unit in Baton Rouge, reassured him. "Did you have any trouble finding the old trapper shack?"
"Did anyone ever tell you GPS devices work best on roadways, not waterways? Still, we managed with a few dead ends and switch-backs. If I lose this thing, I’ll have to hire a tracking dog with gills to find them. Holy Jesus, that swamp is a freakin' maze! Marcus and I counted no less than nine alligators while we were out there. And those were the ones we could see."
"Did you point them out to our witness?"
"You bet.” Ed shifted the phone to the other ear and attacked the laces on his left boot. “That ought to make even her stay put."
"You think? After the drug-running, backstabbing, mafia thugs she's been shacking up with, the alligators probably looked tame."
"Good point." One-handed, he tugged at the remaining muddy boot. The phone slipped, and he grabbed for it. “Tell me again why we're playing babysitter to a witness and why you didn’t take this assignment?”
“Number one, I don't trust anyone else to get our witness to the courthouse alive. I suspect we have a mole in the force. And I'd have done it, but I’m up to my neck in trials over the serial rapist case.” Ben sighed. “Since I did all the legwork, I’m the one in court. God, I hate courtrooms. But, we have to nail this guy so it sticks. Otherwise, I’d be there in a heartbeat. Oh, and I have a pregnant wife at home.”
“Oh, yeah. That. Guess you’re right. Although, I’d switch with you in a second. You’re the one with all the experience wrestling alligators.”
“You’ll survive. Hopefully, the only alligator you have to wrestle is my moth—” Ben stopped in mid-sentence as if he changed his mind about what he was going to say next. “By the way, how are your digs? Mom buy your story?"
"Yeah.” Ed padded through the small cottage, appreciating the homey feel of it. This was the kind of house he’d always pictured belonging to his grandmother. If he’d ever known her. “I hate lying to your mom, though."
"She'll get over it. Did my share of fibbing to get out of doing the lawn a couple times growing up.” He chuckled. “Come to think of it, I can still taste the soap. That woman could see right through every lie. She always caught me. But she loved me anyway."
"Yeah. She had to love you, you're her son." And Boyette was damned lucky to have her.
"I’m sure your mom did the same."
"Don't bet on it. Never knew her." His voice was a little harsher than he'd intended. A twinge of longing flickered across his subconscious, which he quickly squelched. No use pining after something he never had.
After all these years, he hadn't realized how much he missed having a mother until he'd met Ben's. Barbara Boyette was the consummate maternal figure. Care and concern written in every smile, wrinkle, and gray hair.
Ben cleared his throat. "Oh, by the way, do you like kids?"
Ed pushed his boots to the side and stood. Did he like kids? "Never thought about it. Why?"
“No reason. Did mom invite you to dinner already?” Ben asked.
“Nope.”
Ben laughed. “Don’t worry, she will.”
“Is that bad?”
“Uh, no, not at all.” Ben’s answer was a little too swift for his comfort. “She moves quickly with single men.”
“I’m not single, I’m divorced. There’s a difference. Is there something you’re not telling me?” He tamped down a sudden urge to get out of town. Fast.
“No, no. Nothing at all.” Now Ben’s voice sounded entirely too cheerful.
He should definitely run from this small town stuff as fast as his Nikes could take him.
“Mom’s a great cook. She just sometimes cooks up more than her guests are ready to swallow.”
Now he knew for sure Ben was keeping something from him. “What