Missing in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law #5)(45)

“Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’m getting.” She moved to the side of Colt, crouched a bit in the shallow water, hoping her feet didn’t sink too far into the clingy mud.

She heard Colt chamber a round and tensed, ready to spring. A couple seconds later, the shot boomed from the rifle, causing her ears to ring. Right after, a boat engine fired up down the bayou. She listened for a second as the sound got farther away.

“Go!” Colt said.

She sprang out of the water, her thighs straining to pull her feet from the thick bayou mud. When they finally pulled free, she stumbled up the bank, regaining her balance as she continued running full speed ahead. She took the steps to the camp two at a time, praying that none of the rotted wood broke underneath her, and raced across the porch and into the camp. As she slammed the door shut, another gunshot rang out.

Immediately, she bolted to the front window and peered outside, but in the dark, she couldn’t see a thing. Had the shooter circled back? Had he gotten off a lucky shot?

Clutching the rough wood of the windowsill, she strained to see or hear something. Her pulse increased with every passing second until she thought her heart would burst. It’s been too long, she thought. If the shooter had left, Colt would have made it to the camp by now.

She scampered back to the door, then crouched down, ready to sneak back into the dark and find Colt, but before she took the first step, the door flew open and Colt ran inside. She bolted upright as he flew by her, flinging the door shut. She reached for the lock and twisted it into place, although the flimsy metal on the thin door wouldn’t be much of a restraint against anyone insistent on getting through.

“Are you all right?” Jadyn asked.

The tiniest bit of moonlight streamed in through the back windows of the camp, making it possible for her to make out his shadow, but nothing more.

“Twisted my ankle a bit coming up the bank, but it’s nothing serious. Nothing compared to what could have happened.”

“Is he gone?”

“For now, but we can’t assume he won’t come back. Let’s try to find a light source and some first aid for my arm, then we need to get this salt water off our guns. We may need them.”

Jadyn followed him to the kitchenette and felt inside drawers and cabinets. Her hand locked onto a round object in one of the drawers and she drew it out. Inching her fingers up the object, she located the power switch and prayed that Bart kept working batteries in it. She pushed the switch on and a burst of light shot through the small room.

“Direct it at the floor,” Colt said. “We need light, but I don’t want anyone to pinpoint our location from outside. We should try to find something to cover the front windows. Dark blankets, towels…anything that would help block the light.”

Jadyn pointed the flashlight down and toward the sleeping area. The bedspread was dark navy and worked well to cover one of the front windows. After a bit of digging in a storage trunk next to the bed, she managed to come up with two more blankets, both dark brown. Colt hung them over the remaining front window and the one in the rear of the camp.

As soon as Colt covered the back window, she hurried into the bathroom and dug in the medicine cabinet for peroxide and bandages. Bart didn’t have any stitching supplies, so she hoped that Colt’s bullet nick was something the bandages could hold until he could get to the doctor.

She hurried back out into the main room and sat the flashlight in the middle of the camp, pointed up at the ceiling. The light cast a dim glow over the entire room. Colt had one of the blankets pulled back and was peering out the front window when she came out of the bathroom.

“Can you see anything?” she asked.

“No, but what little moonlight there is only appears for a couple of seconds before disappearing behind clouds again. Unless the timing was right, he could walk all the way up to the camp without my seeing him.”

“But we’d hear him.”

“Yeah, we’d definitely hear him, assuming he tries to get into the camp.”

“You don’t think he will?”

He dropped the blanket back in place and shrugged. “Nothing is impossible, but it would be foolish. All he has to do is sit across the bayou and pick us off when we exit the camp.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” She put the supplies on the kitchen table, fighting the feeling that the entire camp was closing in on her.

He walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m not saying that’s what he’s going to do. Maybe we surprised someone who was up to no good, and he took the opportunity to fire at us.”

“You’re saying it might not even be related to Raissa?”

He nodded. “It could be a poacher, a boat thief, someone who broke into this camp and bled on the couch. Plenty of stuff goes on out here that people don’t want the game warden and the sheriff to know about.”

“Yeah, but how many of them think killing law enforcement is a viable answer to their problem?”

He sighed. “Not many, I hope, but I’m betting the real answer would depress us both.”

“Then how about we save that discussion to have over a beer at Bill’s Bar?”

“Sounds good to me.” He lifted his left arm up and tried to look at the back of it. “This is the one that got nicked.”

She pushed his arm up a bit and saw the streak of dried blood. “Hold on a second.” She grabbed a rag and wet it, then carefully wiped his arm until she exposed the injury.