This was her life. Her whole life.
A light pierced the darkness of the night around them—a vehicle coming up the long road that led from the highway. The Johnson farm was remote, but then most places in the parish could be considered remote. The Johnson farm was on the north end of town, and there was no ambient light out here. When she’d first moved to Papillon, that darkness had been a foreign thing. A moonless night had felt almost oppressive. Now she appreciated the contrast. There was night here in a way she’d never experienced, and somehow the darkness of the night made the day brighter.
Yeah, she was becoming quite the poet, but one of the things she’d learned was that when she wasn’t constantly on the move, she thought way, way too much.
The car turned up the long drive, but she couldn’t make out what kind of vehicle it was. The lights weren’t the new super-bright kind, but then most of the vehicles around the parish were older. When the Burtons had gotten their brand-new F-150 complete with LED headlights, the number of UFO sightings had gone through the roof. And it wasn’t like there hadn’t been many before.
“Woman, why are you worried about my naked knees when we’ve got a rougarou on our land?” Archie asked, pointing to the barn. “You should give me back my shotgun.”
“I hid your shotgun because your eyes are going, you paranoid old man,” Caroline retorted. “That is probably a poor bunny rabbit running around out there. You don’t need to take another shot at it.”
“A bunny rabbit wouldn’t scare the goats,” Archie shouted back.
The lights turned and stopped next to her SUV. They blinked out and she hoped Major hadn’t felt the need to follow her out here. Or Armie. She knew the sheriff and her fellow deputy often monitored the radio even on their nights off. Even though she’d promised she would call if she came up against something she couldn’t handle alone.
And she would. Probably.
“All right, could someone explain what’s going on.” She needed to take charge, and that meant getting these two to focus on something other than Archie’s ragged shorts. “You said someone was in your barn. I need to know how many people you think are in there.”
“It’s the rougarou,” Archie insisted.
Sometimes she had trouble understanding some of the more rural residents. They often broke into French. She’d learned serviceable Spanish, but French hadn’t been important to policing in the city. Especially not the Cajun French a lot of people spoke around here. “Is that a name?”
“That is the imaginings of a crazy old man,” Caroline said with a long sigh, and gave Archie a stern look. “Put your robe on.”
Roxie bit back a groan. “Is there or is there not someone lurking around the barn?”
“There is.” Archie blocked his wife’s attempts to cover his body. “It’s back and we’re all in trouble now.”
“It?” She was missing something.
“He’s talking about a swamp creature,” a deep voice said.
A familiar voice.
“Zéphirin Guidry.” Archie breathed the name with a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much for coming. It’s the damn rougarou. We thought it was gone, thought your daddy killed the whole nest of them way back in ’eighty-two, but I heard that rustling tonight and knew it was back.”
Zep stepped on the porch, his long legs hauling him up with ease. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, worn boots on his feet. It was his usual outfit. Given the time of night, most people would have had to get out of bed to get dressed, but Zep had likely come from a bar. His natural habitat. The only thing that was different from his normal clothes was the bag slung over his chest. “Hey, Rox . . . Deputy King.”
She was so glad she’d perfected her poker face at a young age because every time she saw that man, she wanted to sigh and stare for a long time. Zep was a work of art. Six foot three, with broad shoulders and muscles she wasn’t sure how he’d earned, Zep was simply the most beautiful man she’d ever met. His jaw was sharp in contrast with the softness of his too-long, dark wavy hair. It had a slight curl to it that made her want to run her fingers through it right before she rubbed her cheek against his and let the scruff she found there tickle her skin.
He was the baddest boy of the parish, and she’d already made her mistake with him.
You are gorgeous, Roxanne King. I think I could spend some time with you. I think I could spend a lot of time with you.
Unfortunately, he spent time with a lot of women. And she didn’t do bad boys. Well, she didn’t do them more than once.