Gator Bait

Home... Again (1)

Hello! I'm so excited to get this story out into the world! I hope that each and everyone of you guys enjoy it and find it interesting if nothing else. Oh! And you may be saying "romance?" well fear not because this story will have plenty of it!

Always stay beautiful~ Claisha

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The midday sun bore into my corneas as I stepped out of the police cruiser as confidently as possible. I didn't want to be in Louisiana and I definitely didn't want to be anywhere near this swamp that was assaulting my nose with its pungent odor of stagnant water and decaying plant matter. My lungs heaved from the humidity but pulled in the syrup like air against my will trying to acclimate while I scanned the scene in front of me. Deputies, a pathologist, and an FBI agent were all sweating and grunting trying to ready an air-boat for launch while others just stood around watching.

Richard Jones, the aforementioned FBI agent (and my boss), looked up and from his position at the boat and immediately made his was toward me in his usual arrogant strides smiling the entire way.

Richard was a nice man who sported a rather large belly and a shiny bald head that some how made him look tough. I grumbled to myself as he drew nearer. Sure, he had a special place in my heart considering he was the only person to ever give me a flying shot when I applied to become a member of the FBI but he was also the person I was presently pissed with for dragging me back to this hell hole much more commonly known as the south.

Yesterday morning I had been lounging on my back deck gazing over the vast, untamed wilderness of Alaska with my purple mug of hot coffee and my laptop writing the opening chapter of my third book when the universe decided to play its own cruel joke on me.  

My phone rang from inside my living room and I hastily stumbled up to go answer it before the sound caused some sort of avalanche in the distance and took out a entire town or something.  I knew before I even laid my hand on the receiver that this wasn't going to be a friendly call from my publicist telling me to hurry my happy little ass up with his next book considering i was on "vacation" (and by "vacation" I meant sitting around the house in my underwear trying to concoct an idea for the book that was I was suppose to have written a month ago) and nothing good ever comes from a ringing phone on vacation. I mean come on that's when you find out that your house has burned down or your father has gotten ran over; but I must be a masochist because I took a deep breath and pressed the phone to my ear anyway.

"Hello?" I asked in a seemingly chipper voice that I had learned to use through out my youth.

Having grown up in the south my mother had tried to teach me how to behave like a proper lady. Even though I thought half of what she said was bullshit, she still managed to convince me that having good manners on the phone was universal and could get you pretty much anything you want.

The first lesson was to always, even if your dog was chewing on your leg or there was a zombie apocalypse outside, answer the phone in a pleasant, clear tone and do not forget to smile because "people can hear when your not smiling".

"Anna?" Richard's large baritone voice squeezed through the phone.

Of course it was Richard! Who else would be calling to ruin my vacation other than my boss? I threw myself into the middle of my plum couch pouting slightly and already regretting my decision to answer the phone.

Should've just let the damn avalanche happen.

"No! No, no, no, no, no! Richard I don't know what it is, what has happened, or who is going on a murder spree! I don't care!" I whined at the receiver as my manners flew out the window and my anger bubbled up to the surface.