Page 4 of Landry

“I have a blanket I carried as a child. I keep it in my nightstand. Whenever I’m feeling overwhelmed by responsibility, I bring it out. It’s a reminder of the carefree part of my life when someone took care of me. It’s like getting a warm hug from my mother.”

“Exactly.” Camille hugged her daughter and Fuzzy. “I’d better get going. It’s getting late, and I’m sure your day starts early.”

Chrisy’s lips pressed together. “Too early.” Her mouth curved into a tired smile. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love my little terrors.”

Camille carried Ava out to her car and buckled her petite form into the backseat booster chair. Camille tucked Fuzzy against Ava’s cheek, pressed a kiss to her forehead and climbed into the driver’s seat.

It had been fun to get out with adults that night. The dancing had been a bonus. But she loved her little life in the cottage next to the bayou and managing her store on Main Street. Making candy made her happy. The candy also made the people who bought it happy. What more could she ask for?

A man to hold her, kiss her and make love to her.

Camille pressed her lips together firmly. She didn’t need a man in her life. Friends...yes.

She drove out onto Main Street. The Broussards lived on one end of town. Camille’s place was on the opposite side. Her cottage wasn’t far outside of Bayou Mambaloa. Most days, she walked to the candy store.

Headlights flashed in her rearview mirror, temporarily blinding her. The driver must have had his brights on.

Camille reached up, adjusted the position of the mirror and relaxed.

The vehicle behind her drove a little too close for Camille’s comfort. At least she didn’t have far to go to turn off onto the road running along the edge of the bayou.

Camille slowed and made a right-hand turn, sure that whoever had been behind her would keep going straight.

A moment later, the headlights flashed in her rearview mirror again, the vehicle quickly closing the space between them.

With a frown, Camille increased her speed, trying to put distance between her and the vehicle behind her.

Soon, she was exceeding the speed limit. As she approached the turn-off to her cottage, she quickly debated whether to make the turn or pass by. Her gut told her to keep going. The road eventually looped back to the main highway, which led further away from town in one direction and back into Bayou Mambaloa in the other.

As she slowed at the turn, the vehicle behind her got so close Camille braced for impact at the same time as she goosed the accelerator, spun the steering wheel and shot out onto the highway heading back into town. If the vehicle on her bumper continued to follow, she’d lead him to the sheriff’s office.

She held her breath, her gaze alternating between the road ahead and her rearview mirror.

Damn.

The vehicle fell in behind her.

What the hell was this guy’s problem? He must be drunk. All the more reason to go somewhere she’d find help. She prayed the asshat behind her didn’t get more aggressive. Her little girl was in the back seat. If anything happened to Ava...

Camille’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. As she neared the edge of town, the vehicle behind her closed the space between them and hit her bumper with just enough force to make her fishtail.

Her heart thumping against her ribs, Camille held on tight until the wheels regained traction and her car straightened on the road. She increased her speed, anxious to enter the city limits.

Lights shone from the porches of the houses lining the road into town, giving Camille a slight sense of relief. The headlights behind her slipped further and further behind. The vehicle spun on the road and headed in the opposite direction, red taillights disappearing into the darkness.

Camille kept driving until she pulled into the parking lot of the sheriff’s office and shifted into park. Not wanting to wake Ava, she pulled out her cell phone and called 911.

“You’ve reached 911, state your emergency,” a woman’s voice sounded in Camille’s ear.

“Minnie, is that you?” she said, surprised at how breathy her voice sounded.

“This is Minnie Hayes,” the dispatcher answered. “Who’s this?”

“Minnie, it’s Camille Catoire. I’m sitting in the parking lot of the sheriff’s office.”

“What’s wrong, honey?” Minnie asked.

“I was on my way home when someone followed me all the way along Bayou Road and back into town. He waited until we were nearly back and then bumped into my rear end.”

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