Crimson Bayou (Things that go Bump in the Bayou Book 1)

by Alizabeth Lynn

  Also by Alizabeth Lynn

  Anthologies

  Cancer Sucks!

  Nightmares: In Writer’s Retreat

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, December 14, 2014

  This edition Printed, 2017

  ISBN 13: 978-1542476300

  ISBN 10: 1542476305

  © Alizabeth Lynn, 2017

  Cover Art © The Dust Jacket Cover & Design, 2017

  Editing © Belle of the Books Editing, 2017

  Formatting © Foundation Formatting, 2017

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is for Jessica and Jennifer.

  Table of Contents

  START

  Also by Alizabeth Lynn

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Sneak Peek of Savage Bayou

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  -April 08, 1939-

  Cursing, Aden McTarver pushed the engine of the ’37 pickup until it whined. Trees blurred together on the side of the road, the speed of their passing faster than that of his pounding heart. And the liquor didn’t help, either. Words bounced around his skull, blurring his vision as he sped around tight curves, his truck shuddering with each passing mile. Breast cancer. Incurable. Disease. Days to live.

  He pounded a fist on the steering wheel before lifting the whisky bottle to his lips for another drink. He’d buried his mother that morning, and found out his father never wanted him that evening. More words from the note he’d found stashed in his mother’s desk floated before his wavering eyes. Not mine. Bastard.

  So now he’d lost his job, his mother was dead, and he had no father. He had nothing left. The headlights of Aden’s truck barely cut through the darkened back roads of the little Maine town, until he hit the coast and the trees split so suddenly the moonlight blinded him. With another curse, he lifted an arm to shield his eyes. He never saw the cliff.

  -March 1, 2014-

  “So, you’re really going to do it?”

  Carissa Blaine eyed her friend over the rim of her coffee cup. “Yep. The lease is up day after tomorrow. It’s finally time, I think.”

  “But I thought you never wanted to go back?”

  “That’s what I thought, too, but if I don’t, how will I ever know what really happened?”

  Ophelia Boudreaux kicked back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe go to the library or something. Or the police department. I hear they let spouses read the reports these days...ya know, since we moved out of the Dark Ages and all.”

  Carissa Blaine crumpled up a napkin and tossed it, nailing her friend between the eyes. “Okay, smart ass. You know there’s more to it than that.”

  Ophelia nodded, sobering, as she cast her eyes around Carissa’s box-filled apartment. “I also know you never really moved into this place. I think a part of you was always hung up on going back to Jaune.”

  With a long sigh, Carissa took a sip of her cooling coffee. “I think you’re right. The thing is, I didn’t go back like I said I would the month after…everything, and I kind of regret it. That’s part of the reason I want to go back, now. I had the construction crew and home design team do everything over the internet. I only spoke to them through email or sent my sister; I never personally went back to okay any of the changes.”

  Her friend toyed with the end of her long red braid. “Well, you’d also just lost your husband. No one can fault you for that.”

  “Thanks...even though you didn’t like him.”

  “Honey, no one liked him, but we all love you.”

  “I know. You’re still here, even though you think my taste in men sucks.”

  Ophelia sat forward again, a sly smile on her face. “Oh, I have every confidence in you finding someone worth the woman you are.”

  “Yeah, I’ll believe that when it happens.” Carissa took a deep breath. “I’m worried, though. Gwen has the key to my shed. She oversaw the final plans in my stead.”

  Ophelia held up a hand. “Wait. Are you telling me Gwen actually helped you? Without setting your house on fire, or telling you how it was somehow your fault that Ryan died?”

  “Come on, Phia. My sister isn’t that bad.”

  “Your blind date with ‘Gary the Paranormal Investigator,’ the pizza delivery guy that showed up with a meal and a proposition because Gwen said you were single, the weird secrecy every time you try to talk to her about her relationship with her husband,” Ophelia ticked the points off on her fingers before grinning up at Carissa, “No, she’s not bad at all. Just an annoying, sisterly douche canoe that tries to make your life more difficult than it needs to be.”

  Carissa shook her head, laughing. “Fine, I’ll give you that, but she was helpful, and I kind of owe her for that.”

  “Just don’t let her drag you into anything you don’t want to do.”

  “But isn’t that what big sisters are for?”

  Ophelia smiled. “Probably, but the warning still stands. Just be careful, okay? It’s only been a year. You know?.”

  Carissa nodded. “I do, and I promise, but I still don’t want that key back.”

  “Why not?”

  “That’s where I had them put all of Ryan’s stuff.”

  “Ah. And his computer is in there, too, I take it?”

  “It is.”

  Ophelia leaned her elbows on the table and raised an eyebrow. “But wouldn’t
that give you some answers?”

  Carissa blew out a tense breath. “Some,” she agreed, “but you know how he was acting before the accident. He was so close to the deep end, I almost sent him to Brentwood.”

  “The mental hospital? Why?”

  “Because he tried telling me werewolves and vampires were real. This isn’t the Twilight Zone. He was unhinged.”

  “But did he say they sparkled?”

  “This isn’t a joke, Phia.” But Carissa couldn't quite suppress her smile. “He really did sound crazy.”

  Ophelia sat back again, her expression guarded. “Maybe.”

  “Girl, don’t make me call Brentwood on you. What do you mean ‘maybe’?”

  “I just mean that you shouldn’t jump to conclusions.” She shrugged. “Maybe he wasn’t as crazy as you thought.”

  “So you’re defending the loony now?”

  Ophelia chuckled. “Not at all. I just think you should take a look at his work. Maybe it was one of those cult things.”

  “And that’s not crazy? Phia, you’re beginning to worry me.” Carissa said the last as a joke, laughing lightly. “I may need to make that call after all.”

  Ophelia threw the napkin back, hitting her in the chest. “Pfft. No you won’t. You love me.”

  “And right now I’m considering drowning you in your coffee cup.”

  Her friend laughed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You know I’m right.”

  “That’s beside the point.” Carissa looked around and sighed again. “So when do you head back to Jaune, anyway?”

  “Tonight, since the weather’s clear. My vacation is almost up, and I need to get back to Baby Steps before Eleanor replaces me.”

  “She’d never do that. You’re an excellent manager.”

  Ophelia sighed. “Yeah, but a lot of stuff has been going on, and I may have to go out of town again in a week or so. I don’t know yet.”

  “And here I am complaining about my stuff. What’s going on?”

  Ophelia shook her head. “Nothing serious. I’m living with Aunt Janice, now, and I heard something about my mother being back in the state. I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to follow up on it or not.”

  Carissa reached out and tugged on one of her friend’s hands. “Well, you tell me when you decide. You know I’m here for you.”

  Ophelia smiled. “As I am for you. Now, let’s get the rest of your stuff packed up and then sign you up for that dating site.”

  Carissa threw the napkin back, bouncing it off the side of Ophelia’s head while her friend laughed.

  “Okay, okay,” Ophelia said with a twitch of her lips, “No packing. And maybe we can set you up with your neighbor or something.”

  Ophelia grinned when Carissa snarled, “You’re lucky I love you.”

  “I know.”

  Carissa squinted down at the paper in her hands, the large words at the top mocking in their italicized brilliance: A Notice of Non-Renewal. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Her year was up, and it was time to go home, but now, as she stared down at the stark-white notice from her landlord, she wondered if it wouldn’t be possible to change her mind. Surely paying next month’s rent would secure her a little more time. With a sigh, she dropped down onto the little loveseat in her living room. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, setting the paper on the cushion beside her.

  Hands shaking, Carissa clasped them in her lap and fought back her fear. It’s not as if she was returning to nothing. Her house had been renovated, her grandmother was planning to groom her to take over the family business, and Jaune was where her mother and nana lived. Shreveport, where she was staying, now, didn’t offer the same comforting sights and sounds as the little bayou town where she’d grown up. She groaned and stood up just as her doorbell rang.

  She quickly picked up the paper and shoved it into the purse on her coffee table as she made her way to open the door. Her nana, Eleanor, walked in, arms spread wide for a big hug.

  They embraced, and Carissa immediately felt better. “I was just thinking about you, Nana.”

  Eleanor leaned back and grinned. “Were you, now?”

  “Yeah.” Carissa walked over and pulled the paper from her purse. She handed it to her grandmother. “It feels more final, now, and I’m ready…but I’m not. You know?” She laughed weakly. “My head tells me I haven’t been gone long enough, but my heart says it’s time.” She sighed and plopped down on the couch before Eleanor could respond.

  “It’s only been a year since Ryan died,” Carissa choked out on a half-sob, “and even though it’s changed, I don’t know how I can go back to our house.”

  Eleanor crossed the room to sit next to her. She put her arm around Carissa’s shoulders. “I can’t make your decision for you, sweetheart, but if an old lady’s two cents are worth anything, I think it’s time for you to return to Jaune. Your mother misses you.”

  Carissa leaned her head on Eleanor’s shoulder. “I know she does, but she’s going to start matchmaking as soon as I tell her I’m on my way. You know how she is, and she never liked Ryan.”

  Her nana rubbed a hand up and down her arm. “She had her reasons, sweetie.”

  Carissa raised her head regarding Eleanor with confusion. “What reasons? She never gave me any reasons.”

  Her grandmother pulled back and turned her head away, fussing with the skirt of her floral-printed dress. “She just didn’t think he was good enough for you, leaving you alone all the time like he did.”

  “He was a journalist, Nana. He couldn’t very well do his job if he was home all the time.”

  “Your mom also didn’t like Ryan’s interest in the occult. You know how religious she is, now.”

  Carissa leaned back and watched her grandmother until the older woman turned to look at her. “I’ll admit Ryan had some strange ideas about the supernatural, but that’s no reason for mom to act the way she did whenever she was around.”

  “Honey, you need to forgive her. There will come a day when you’ll need her support, and it could be sooner than you think.”

  “Nana, why do you always talk in riddles?” Carissa laughed. “Is this your weird way of telling me it’s my destiny to go back home?”

  Eleanor pinned her with an intense stare. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Things are changing, and I think it will be good for you.” She paused to waggle her eyebrows and grin at her granddaughter. “There’s a real nice young man who just moved in across the street from your house, and he’s very, very single.”

  Carissa laughed and walked into her open kitchen to grab a Coke from the fridge. “You’re just as bad as mom, Nana. I’m not ready to date, yet.”

  The wily old woman grinned wider. “My dear, who said anything about dating?”

  Carissa nearly choked on her soda. Her eyes watered as she gasped for breath, spewing a mouthful of sticky drink down the front of her shirt. “Nana!”

  Eleanor stood up and stepped across the small space, handing her a hand towel from the counter. “Carissa,” she said, her voice gentle, “maybe your mom isn’t completely wrong. It’s been a year, sweetie, and you told me yourself that things were rocky before he left on his last assignment.”

  Carissa rolled the can between her hands, listening to it crinkle. She knew her nana wouldn’t leave until she had the information she wanted, and maybe it was time for that, too. “Let’s go back into the living room, and I’ll tell you about it.”

  She grabbed her drink and followed Eleanor back into the other room, feeling as if they were playing an absurd version of musical chairs. They sat down again, and she took a deep breath. “Nana, do you remember the case with that missing little girl a few years back?”

  Eleanor nodded. “Yes, I believe I do. Wasn’t that the child found in a field behind one of the houses near yours?”

  Carissa nodded. “That’s the one. After the story printed, Ryan started receiving a lot of late-night texts and phone calls, and he’d always leave the room with the e
xcuse that it was work related. I’d never seen his work have him so worried and tense. It didn’t help that the day after each call or message, he’d leave town for a couple of nights, and he’d always come home looking like he’d spent a week hunting big game—sweaty, disheveled, and covered in mud and ick. For the first time in our relationship, I knew he wasn’t being honest.”

  Eleanor leaned over and wrapped Carissa in a hug. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you come to me? You know I have ways of helping.”

  She hugged the older woman tightly for a moment. “I was worried about myself—the health of my brain, I guess. Everyone thought we were such a perfect couple. I thought Ryan was right, that I was being paranoid over nothing.”

  Eleanor held her out at arm’s length, eyes flashing with anger. “He told you that?”

  Carissa ducked her head. “Yeah,” she mumbled, “We’d been separated for a couple of months when he took his last assignment, and we were talking about reconciling. We were going to see a marriage counselor when he got home, but he never made it.” A tear trailed down her cheek, and her nana wiped the moisture away with a gentle hand.

  “It’s okay, Carissa. I think this is exactly why it’s a good reason to come home. You can finally put those feelings to rest and move on. If he loved you enough to reconcile, I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted you to mourn him forever.”

  Carissa wiped the next tear away herself. “That’s the thing, Nana. I’m not sure he did. I loved him, yes, but I don’t think his feelings were as strong for me. He kept trying to get me involved in his interests – which isn’t bad – but he said he had a group of friends that could change my mind about it. He was talking about us going to some sort of ritual to bring us closer. He said his friend Garrett was a good counselor, and he’d help us.”

  Eleanor stiffened. “Garrett?”

  Carissa eyed her grandmother curiously. “You know him?”

  Eleanor nodded. “I do.”

  “Well? Who is he?”

  Carissa’s nana stood up and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I expect to see you at work first thing next week. I love you, but I need to go. I want to get back to Jaune before dark.”