Page 32 of Landry

After what felt like hours but was likely only thirty minutes, Camille was second-guessing their trek into the bayou. She should have told Ava they couldn’t go until morning. Then they could have rented a boat from Marceau’s Marina and actually had a better chance of seeing what was out there.

“You know, it’s hard enough finding your way around the bayou during the day,” she said. “Do you think we should head back and try again in the morning?”

“No!” Ava cried. “We have to find Billy Ray.”

“But we’ve been out for a while now and haven’t seen any sign of him or this shack,” Camille argued. “We should head back.”

The little skiff pushed past a tree branch hanging low over the water and rounded a bend.

“This is it,” Landry said softly and aimed the bow of the skiff toward a weathered dock.

Camille turned on her flashlight and pointed it at a small, sad shack standing at the end of the dock, with sagging eaves, shuttered windows and twisted sheets of corrugated tin haphazardly covering the roof.

A fading sign, painted in blue letters, hung at an angle over the door proclaiming the structure as the Later Gator Fishing Hut.

Camille blinked. “This is the vacation destination J.D. tried to sell you?”

Landry chuckled and ran the side of the skiff up against the dock. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I can understand your hesitation and Remy’s laughter.” She shook her head. “And you think this might be where Billy Ray is staying?”

“He said he was staying in an old gator hut,” Ava said with a shrug.

Landry looped a line over one of the posts on the dock and secured the skiff.

Camille shined the light on the weathered boards. Some of them had worn through in places, leaving gaps large enough a foot could fall through them.

“You and Ava should stay in the boat while I check out the place.”

Camille shot him a glance over her shoulder and shook her head. “We’re going in.”

For a moment, Landry’s brow furrowed. Then he shrugged. “Okay. Let me get out first. I’m not sure how sturdy the dock is.”

Landry stood, rocking the little boat.

Camille held onto the side of the skiff with one hand and Ava with the other, again questioning her sanity for bringing her daughter out in the bayou at night.

Grabbing a nearby post, Landry pulled himself up onto the dock. The movement rocked the skiff again.

He grabbed the line and steadied the little boat. When it stopped bobbing, he held out his hands. “Can you hand Ava up to me?”

Camille lifted Ava up onto her lap. “Sweetie, stand on my legs.”

Ava pushed to a standing position with Camille holding her around her hips.

Landry hooked his hands beneath her arms and swung her onto the dock. “Stay right there while I get your mother out.”

“Yes, sir.” Ava, in her pajamas, looking so small and a little scared, stood exactly where he’d placed her.

Camille’s heart swelled with pride and love for her little girl.

“You’re next.” Landry held out his hand.

Camille handed him the flashlight, then laid her palm in his and stood. The zap of electricity shooting through her made her shift her feet too soon. The boat tipped.

Landry pulled her up onto the dock and into his arms. He held her for several long seconds, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Her heart raced, not so much because she almost fell into the water, but because she was pressed against Landry’s chest. She could smell his cologne and feel the solid muscles beneath his T-shirt. She didn’t want to move.

---