Rumble on the Bayou Read Online Free
Author: Jana DeLeon
throwing around insults."
Dorie grinned and jumped into her jeep. "I'd like to see them try." She pulled on her sunglasses and backed out of the parking lot. "Say hi to Jenny for me," she yelled as she started down the road, leaving Joe standing in a cloud of dust, a chagrined look on his face.
***
DEA agent Richard Starke took his first look at the town of Gator Bait and immediately knew he was going to hate it. Bunch of rednecks and idiots, he thought as he scanned the street in front of him. The average blood alcohol content was probably higher than the median IQ. Every building was rundown, the paint peeling from constant exposure to saltwater, and from his position at the end of the street he could make out a couple of the faded wooden signs.
On the right was the sheriff's office, with a big CLOSED sign in the window. A grocery store shared one wall of the decrepit building, and a cafe shared the other. On the other side of the street stood a run-down motel next to a boat shop with a bar on one side and, ironically enough, a church on the other.
Parallel to the dusty road and behind the side with the church was a bayou that ran down past a large metal building set apart from the others. Unfortunately, he was downwind from that building, and the general odor permeating the air told him it wasn't a place he wanted to see any closer.
He considered his options again. What the hell kind of place closed their entire law-enforcement facility on Sunday? He'd driven into Hicksville thinking he'd march straight into the sheriff's office and quickly deal with his problem. Obviously, he was-wrong.
Disgusted by his lack of choices, he sighed. The cafe was probably his best bet. If he turned up anything useful, he could always get a room later at the Fleabag Inn. His skin already itched in anticipation. Studying the cafe, he mentally assessed the few people he saw through the plate-glass window. With a final disgusted look at the sheriff's office, he started across the street.
No way was this town of morons getting in the way of his finishing his job. It had already gone on too long, and he was ready for it to end.
No matter who he had to roll over to get it done.
***
Joe took a seat at the counter in the cafe and pretended to read the menu board, while casting sideways glances at Jenny, who poured coffee for a group of fishermen at a table in the corner. This was it. Today was the day he'd ask Jenny out and put a stop to Dorie's nagging. He would not fail this time.
A minute later, Jenny headed over his way and he felt his throat go numb.
"Hi, Joe," she said, flashing him a bright smile. "Would you like a cup of coffee this morning?"
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Damn it, this was not going to happen to him today. He tried again, but even the words, "yes, thank you" were unattainable. Finally, he just nodded, too embarrassed and frustrated to try anything else.
Jenny stared curiously at him for a moment and turned to retrieve a cup of coffee. He slumped back in his seat and tried to get a grip on himself. It must be his allergies. He could never talk right first thing in the morning because of his allergies. Only problem with that theory was that it was already after eleven o'clock, and he'd been up and talking for hours.
Jenny set the cup in front of him and pulled out a pad. "You want the breakfast special or are you interested in lunch?"
He took a big gulp of the coffee and burned his tongue. "Special's fine," he managed to blurt out. Jenny jotted a note on her pad, gave him a smile and walked over to the grill. Glancing up at the chalkboard on the wall, he gave a mental groan. Grits were on the breakfast special. He absolutely, positively hated grits.
If he didn't learn to speak around Jenny, he would starve to death. What the hell, he thought, giving the board another disgusted look. After that first drink of coffee, I
Dorie grinned and jumped into her jeep. "I'd like to see them try." She pulled on her sunglasses and backed out of the parking lot. "Say hi to Jenny for me," she yelled as she started down the road, leaving Joe standing in a cloud of dust, a chagrined look on his face.
***
DEA agent Richard Starke took his first look at the town of Gator Bait and immediately knew he was going to hate it. Bunch of rednecks and idiots, he thought as he scanned the street in front of him. The average blood alcohol content was probably higher than the median IQ. Every building was rundown, the paint peeling from constant exposure to saltwater, and from his position at the end of the street he could make out a couple of the faded wooden signs.
On the right was the sheriff's office, with a big CLOSED sign in the window. A grocery store shared one wall of the decrepit building, and a cafe shared the other. On the other side of the street stood a run-down motel next to a boat shop with a bar on one side and, ironically enough, a church on the other.
Parallel to the dusty road and behind the side with the church was a bayou that ran down past a large metal building set apart from the others. Unfortunately, he was downwind from that building, and the general odor permeating the air told him it wasn't a place he wanted to see any closer.
He considered his options again. What the hell kind of place closed their entire law-enforcement facility on Sunday? He'd driven into Hicksville thinking he'd march straight into the sheriff's office and quickly deal with his problem. Obviously, he was-wrong.
Disgusted by his lack of choices, he sighed. The cafe was probably his best bet. If he turned up anything useful, he could always get a room later at the Fleabag Inn. His skin already itched in anticipation. Studying the cafe, he mentally assessed the few people he saw through the plate-glass window. With a final disgusted look at the sheriff's office, he started across the street.
No way was this town of morons getting in the way of his finishing his job. It had already gone on too long, and he was ready for it to end.
No matter who he had to roll over to get it done.
***
Joe took a seat at the counter in the cafe and pretended to read the menu board, while casting sideways glances at Jenny, who poured coffee for a group of fishermen at a table in the corner. This was it. Today was the day he'd ask Jenny out and put a stop to Dorie's nagging. He would not fail this time.
A minute later, Jenny headed over his way and he felt his throat go numb.
"Hi, Joe," she said, flashing him a bright smile. "Would you like a cup of coffee this morning?"
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Damn it, this was not going to happen to him today. He tried again, but even the words, "yes, thank you" were unattainable. Finally, he just nodded, too embarrassed and frustrated to try anything else.
Jenny stared curiously at him for a moment and turned to retrieve a cup of coffee. He slumped back in his seat and tried to get a grip on himself. It must be his allergies. He could never talk right first thing in the morning because of his allergies. Only problem with that theory was that it was already after eleven o'clock, and he'd been up and talking for hours.
Jenny set the cup in front of him and pulled out a pad. "You want the breakfast special or are you interested in lunch?"
He took a big gulp of the coffee and burned his tongue. "Special's fine," he managed to blurt out. Jenny jotted a note on her pad, gave him a smile and walked over to the grill. Glancing up at the chalkboard on the wall, he gave a mental groan. Grits were on the breakfast special. He absolutely, positively hated grits.
If he didn't learn to speak around Jenny, he would starve to death. What the hell, he thought, giving the board another disgusted look. After that first drink of coffee, I
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