The Awakening. Jana DeLeon

      “I’ll make some phone calls and see if they can speed things up.”

      “Thank you,” she said, her relief apparent.

      “Is that everything?”

      “Yes.” She looked down, averting her eyes from his.

      “Are you sure?”

      She raised her eyes back to his. “It’s everything that you need to deal with. The rest is my problem.”

      “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

      She sighed. “A couple of men on the crew left the job this morning. They’re spooked, and I probably won’t be able to replace them. Word is out and there are only so many qualified workers around these parts. Most are working reconstruction in New Orleans.”

      “So you’re delayed a bit, but it’s not the end of the world.”

      “If the delays continue, I can’t open the bed-and-breakfast on time. I have people booked for New Year’s Eve.”

      “Why would swamp fencing hold up the opening?”

      “Apparently, the insurance company considers it a liability if I don’t have the fencing and won’t write the policy I need to open.”

      Okay, it was unfortunate, but not a crisis. “You can probably get some workers to come over from New Orleans if you pay a bonus. Worst case, you’ve have to refund deposits for the bookings and reschedule them if you think the property’s not inhabitable by then.”

      “Yes, I suppose so.”

      He studied her face, the way her hands shook as she poured the rest of her coffee into the sink. Why all the concern about not opening on time, but the lack of interest in paying a bonus to acquire enough workers to get things finished on time? Surely, not every contractor in Louisiana would be afraid to work in the Honey Island Swamp, especially if the price was right.

      She was hiding something, but what? Holt had warned him that the hardest part of the job was figuring out if the things people were hiding were relevant to the case. He hadn’t been on the job five minutes and could already see that clear as day. He took a sip of his coffee to avoid sighing. This sort of issue was exactly why he’d chosen a career path in the swamp among the creatures. They didn’t present complicated problems like humans.

      “Well, if that’s all,” he said, “I’d like to start by taking a look at the place you saw the creature.”

      She hesitated for just a moment, and he thought she was going to let out some of what was really bothering her, but finally, she nodded. “Let me grab a long-sleeved shirt and put on my boots. Then I’ll take you there myself.”

      She left the room without as much as a backward glance. He downed the rest of his coffee and stared across the acreage to the tree line where the swamp began. Something was moving below the surface. He could feel it.

      The question was, how much did Josie know and how involved in it was she?

      JOSIE PULLED ON HER GLOVES as they entered the trail in the swamp. Southern Louisiana rarely got cold enough for the gloves to be a necessity, but the bare branches and dying foliage were sharp and scratched the skin with direct contact. She noticed Tanner had pulled leather gloves from his jeans pocket as soon as they’d neared the tree line. He wore hiking boots and a long-sleeve shirt, which made sense as Alex had told her he was an expert tracker. Even the pistol shoved casually in his waistband only comforted her that she’d made the right decision.

      But the rest of the picture was the absolute last thing she’d been expecting when he’d introduced himself as the detective she’d hired. She’d expected someone older, rougher, maybe someone who’d lived in the swamp for a while. Someone with graying hair, scars and maybe even a limp. Or maybe she’d seen too much late-night television.

      She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Tanner’s looks should be the least of her worries. She had the bank pushing her every day for payment, and hiring a detective was the last chance she had to save her family’s plantation from foreclosure. It felt like a long shot, but if it worked, the money would be well spent, even if she had to suffer the discomfort of explaining her precarious financial position. She’d avoided the subject in the kitchen when he’d suggested paying higher wages for workers, but she wouldn’t be able to avoid it forever.

      She was a bit surprised that Tanner hadn’t asked about the creature she saw, but maybe he thought she’d been mistaken. It rankled her that people discounted what she said simply because it sounded implausible, but she wasn’t going to lie just to make people comfortable. Now, if only she could convince him to work quickly, her New Year’s business might be spared.

      “So, Alex tells me you were a game warden,” she said, unable to tolerate the silence or her mental wanderings any longer.

      “Yeah, I’ve spent almost ten years in the Atchafalaya Basin.”

      “But your family is in Vodoun?”

      “They are now. Everyone scattered after high school, but my brothers have settled down there now with their wives.”

      “That’s nice.”

      “I suppose so. If that’s what you’re into.”

      His dry tone made her smile just a bit. “It’s nice to know I’m not the only person in Louisiana jaded about love.”

      He didn’t respond, but she didn’t think much of it. In her experience, most men weren’t exactly dying to have long discussions about romantic entanglements. At the moment, the last thing she was interested in was a romantic entanglement, which was a good thing since the tall, muscular man behind her was enough to tempt any woman with clear vision.

      Something about his slightly unkempt brown hair and the two-day shadow on his face screamed masculinity in a way she’d never noticed in another man, and during her modeling days, she’d seen many prime specimens. The tanned skin and green eyes only made a beautiful picture perfect.

      And familiar.

      She frowned as the thought registered completely. There was something familiar about him. It was so brief and fleeting in her mind that she couldn’t get a grasp on it, but she had no doubt that she’d seen him somewhere before.

      “Did you grow up in the area?” she asked.

      “Mostly, but we moved around a lot. Never stayed in any one town for more than a couple of years, except Vodoun.”

      That probably explained the familiarity. She’d been a cheerleader in high school, and her school had had a big rivalry with Vodoun High School. Tanner looked about the same age as her. She’d probably seen him at a game. He certainly had the build of an athlete.

      “Is this the area?” His voice broke into her thoughts as they stepped into the clearing with the damaged fencing.

      “Yes,” she said, switching her mind back to the present. “I was standing over there, just at the edge of the water. I saw … whatever it was poke its head through the bushes on the far-side bank.”

      “And it was early evening?”

      “The sun was setting, but it was just at the edge of the tree line. The light was still reflected off the pond.”

      He stepped up to the edge of the water and studied the bank, probably trying to estimate just how good her view had been from that distance and in that amount of light. Apparently satisfied, he nodded and stepped away from the water.

      “Did you search the bank on the other side?”

      “Not that evening,” she said, embarrassed to come right out and admit she’d run for the house like a scared little girl. “But I came back the next morning with the plantation foreman, Emmett Vernon.”

      “And that’s when you took the cast of the footprint?”

      “Yes. And sent it to