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"Thank you." I didn't think I was hungry, but I devoured the biscuit and then ate a second one. Jack laugh

ed.

"I'll bring you some more," he said. "I don't want you taking bites out of the table."

"I guess I didn't realize how much energy I used poling that pirogue."

"Okay," he said bringing me another biscuit. "Tell me all about it now."

Jack sat across from me and listened to my description of what had happened in the shack and how I had escaped. After I was finished, he nodded his head, his eyes fixed firmly on me, a new look of appreciation in them.

"I take back what I said before. All of that was pretty fast thinking, even for a city girl," he said.

Jack had a smile that beamed so much warmth that I thought I could remain forever in the glow. His eyes and his gentle lips made me feel more than just safe. I was where I belonged, where I was meant to be. I used to question Mommy all the time about the magic of love, wondering if there really was such a thing as two people being drawn to each other by mystical forces not explained in laboratories. I wanted to believe in it, but since it had never happened to me, I was skeptical. Then all of my cynicism melted away under the heat of Jack's warm eyes.

"I'd better call home and see how Daddy is," I said softly.

Jack nodded. "ThenI'll call the police. You'll have to tell them what happened and about where you think Buster went down."

"I don't know that, Jack. Everywhere in the swamp looks the same to me."

"Don't worry about it," he said. "My guess is no one's going to miss the likes of Buster Trahaw anyway."

Aubrey answered when I called home and told me Daddy was asleep. "He's asked after you a number of times, however, mademoiselle."

"Tell him phone again as soon as I can, Aubrey.

Tell him I'm all right, and tell him . . ."

"Yes, mademoiselle?"

"Nothing, Aubrey. call later," I added. Why give

Daddy the bad news now? I thought. I hadn't found Mommy. I had almost gotten myself trapped and maybe even killed, and I could do nothing to help Pierre.

"Don't drop the potato," Jack advised when I cradled the receiver and he saw the look of dismay on my face.

I smiled, remembering how Mommy often used that Cajun expression. "We're not licked yet," Jack added with steely, determined eyes.

I flashed another grateful smile, but in my heart I had given up hope. After all, there was nothing more to do here. I might as well head home.

Jack called the police, and a little while later a patrol car arrived with two officers. They listened to my tale, shaking their heads in disbelief.

"We'll get a couple of patrol boats into the canal and see if there's anything left of him," one of the policemen told me. "We know that your mother is missing. Your father called our station and spoke to the chief, and Mrs. Pitot has called a few times, too.

We've got your mother's description and we're keeping our eyes open."

I thanked him, and then Jack followed the two policemen outside to finish talking to them where I couldn't hear. When I looked out the window, I saw them shaking their heads with even more pity in their eyes. Jack shook their hands and they left, but almost as soon as they had, the other riggers gathered around to hear the story. Reluctantly, Jack described the events. Then they called to me and I stepped into the open doorway to hear their anger over what had occurred.

Everyone then volunteered to do something for me. One wanted to drive into Houma and buy me some new clothes. The others wanted to form a search party and traipse through the swamps searching for Mommy, but Jack explained why he didn't think that would do any good.

"Don't you worry, mademoiselle," they declared. "None of the Trahaws will ever set foot on this property again."

"You mean there are more of them?" I asked Jack.

"Cousins, but they don't live near here," he said, glaring angrily. I knew he was just trying to ease my fears.

"She'll be all right," he assured the other riggers. "Go on back to work." He came inside.


Tags: V.C. Andrews Landry Horror