BayouBabe99er (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Read Free Page B

town.”
    “Trust me. I won’t let that happen.”
    One of the committee members jumped to commandeer the floor. “We respect what we’ve heard this evening. Mr. Cormier’s passion is to be commended.” Drake raised his eyebrows in surprise at the snub. “What we need from you is your cooperation,” the member continued. “Take care of your part and our company will handle the rest.”
    The people on the dais stood.
    “Thank you for coming.” The facilitator closed the discussion with those words against the wishes of the residents.
    They swarmed the floor as the panel disappeared through the side doors. “Traitor!”
    Drake felt the sting of that slur. He squared his shoulders on the walk to his vehicle, feeling inept at easing the pain so many experienced. A chance encounter with the disrespectful panel member was too good to pass up. “You do plan on reporting the situation at Pauchex Pass?”
    “Listen, Cormier. Don’t stir up more trouble than we already have. You are the go-between. Not the people’s spokesperson.”
    Incensed, Drake challenged. “If you don’t look into this matter, I’ll have no alternative but to submit the suspicions myself.”
    “You’ll have an answer by the end of the week.” The man’s whole demeanor swelled in rage. He confronted Drake with, “Better remember who you work for, Cormier” and marched off.
    The implied threat set Drake on fire.
    His mind stayed on the troubles he knew to come as he slid behind the wheel. The decision to volunteer as the middleman came about when he witnessed the despair on numerous news reports. The sight compelled him to act. This added crimp had him question whether he could positively impact the outcome for the people.
    Beating outside on the hood of his rental stifled the thoughts roiling in his head. The culprit never stopped moving and was out of sight when Drake stepped out of the car. He endured caustic glances as people milled around in the parking lot, at odds with approaching him directly or going about their business. He watched worry etch every face.
    It wasn’t long before he was one of the few who remained outside the gym in moderate darkness. The period of time he stood like a statue cemented in his brain the difficulty of his task. Something told him fairness and profit was like oil and water. Right now, he could think of no way to get the two to mix.
    Drake entered his car in a contemplative mood. To add fuel to the fire, Sharlene and her uncle strolled by him as if he was non-existent. He conceded this looked to be a tough assignment. However, the tools for developing a compromise strategy just got into their rust-red pickup and drove away.

Chapter Four
     
    BayouBabe99er with the latest on the Gulf crisis. The oil’s not the only thing slick down here. What’s another name for the yucky, green slime in ditches? If you answered “scum,” you’d be right on the money. The scum I’m speaking of walks on two feet and makes believe he has the best interest of the people at heart. Some may call Louisianians daft. But—I beg to differ. Stay tuned for more.
     
    Sharlene awoke in the doldrums a week after the big meeting. She muddled through the morning a bit perturbed her Uncle Moot sneaked out on a compensated fishing expedition without inviting her. There was no way he misunderstood her desire to accompany him. She made that clear last night.
    The rocker squeaked on the wooden planks of the front porch as she sipped from her coffee mug.
    Swamp sounds marred the quiet morning, from the fowls’ in-flight cries from branch to branch—to the croaking bullfrogs in the brush. Sticky humidity hung low, settling all over her. She hadn’t bothered to change and lounged about in soft, cottony sleep pants topped with a short, ribbed undershirt. Quite frankly, she was surprised anyone would pay to fish in the waters around there. In her opinion, it provided proof to the theory money, power, and access skewed the perception