gave herself a silent lecture on client-investigator relations.
By the time she came down, she’d determined to get things back on the right track. But to her disappointment, only two places were set at the table. Since Morgan wasn’t in the mood to spend the meal trying to make conversation with Janet, she said she was worn out and took a tray up to her room.
After checking in with Decorah Security, she turned in early—and slept through the night again.
###
The next day, she woke up feeling refreshed—and anxious to confront Andre with some of the questions he should already have answered—like was he keeping pet alligators out by the fallen log.
Her plans were put on hold again when he failed to appear once more. Now she knew he was avoiding her. Because he was embarrassed about yesterday? Or because he didn’t want to discuss the case he’d hired her to investigate?
“He’s gone off to cut up some trees that were uprooted in the storm,” Janet explained.
“Oh, right,” Morgan answered, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “Did he fix the oven first?”
“Yes.” The housekeeper held out a basket of cinnamon buns. “I was able to make these for you.”
Morgan instantly regretted taking out her bad mood on Janet. She had to keep remembering that the housekeeper wasn’t controlling the situation. Andre was the one making the decisions.
She took one of the buns, and the first bite told her that the lack of an oven had truly deprived her of a rare experience. “These are wonderful,” she said.
Janet beamed. “I wanted to make them for you.”
The buns put Morgan in a better mood.
After licking icing off her fingers, she got up and opened the back door, listening to the sound of a chain saw somewhere in the distance. Janet hadn’t been lying, but that didn’t explain why Andre had conceived a powerful desire to go out into the bayou and saw up logs.
She thought about marching out into the wilderness area—following the sound. Then she decided that wouldn’t do her much good. He had an excellent way to keep from engaging in conversation. All he had to do was continue sawing.
Morgan went back upstairs and got a carry bag. Then she retrieved the maps she’d hidden in the special compartment of her suitcase. As far as she could tell, nobody had found it. But there was no way to be sure.
With the map in her bag, she went down to her car and started toward St. Germaine, driving slowly, testing the brakes every half mile, making sure they were working. When they proved reliable, she speeded up a bit, then slowed when she came to the place where the water had washed across the road and almost swept her away. The site of the flood was very clear, and she pulled to a stop. As she looked at the uprooted trees, logjams of man-made and natural debris and mud practically blocking the road, a clogged feeling rose in her throat.
She tried to move her foot, tried to press down on the gas pedal. But her muscles wouldn’t obey. It was like an invisible force held her in place, making it impossible for her to keep driving.
In her mind, she heard the deadly roar of onrushing water. It was coming for her again.
No. The sun was shining. She was in no danger. Not today.
Still, some part of her waited for the water to come and sweep her away. And this time, Andre couldn’t save her.
No. That was wrong. He could save her. He had saved her. He had appeared out of nowhere and dragged her to shore.
Her hands tightened on the wheel, as she fought the sensation of being pulled under and carried away. That hadn’t happened. Andre had plunged into the current and hauled her to safety.
Chapter Nine
Morgan clung to the steering wheel, fighting terror that threatened to swallow her whole. She wanted to jump out of the car and run screaming into the bayou.
Right! With the snakes and the alligators and maybe the jaguar.
“Stop it!” she ordered herself. “Stop it. You’re safe and dry in the car. You’re not in danger here.”
Yet she knew some force outside herself was affecting her perception of the world.
“You’re safe and dry,” she repeated, over and over, even as she fought the sensation of water clawing at her, dragging her under. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing. But somehow, she got control of herself.
The terror ebbed, the way the water had